Romaunt of the Rose, etc.

Rev. WALTER W. SKEAT, M.A.
Litt.D., LL.D., D.C.L., Ph.D.
ELRINGTON AND BOSWORTH PROFESSOR OF ANGLO-SAXON
AND FELLOW OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE

——'blanda sonantibus

Chordis carmina temperans.'

Boethius, De Cons. Phil. Lib. III. Met. 12.

'He temprede hise blaundisshinge songes by resowninge strenges.'

Chaucer's Translation.

The present edition of Chaucer contains an entirely new Text, founded solely on the manuscripts and on the earliest accessible printed editions. For correct copies of the manuscripts, I am indebted, except in a few rare instances, to the admirable texts published by the Chaucer Society.

In each case, the best copy has been selected as the basis of the text, and has only been departed from where other copies afforded a better reading. All such variations, as regards the wording of the text, are invariably recorded in the footnotes at the bottom of each page; or, in the case of the Treatise on the Astrolabe, in Critical Notes immediately following the text. Variations in the spelling are also recorded, wherever they can be said to be of consequence. But I have purposely abstained from recording variations of reading that are certainly inferior to the reading given in the text.

The requirements of metre and grammar have been carefully considered throughout. Beside these, the phonology and spelling of every word have received particular attention. With the exception of reasonable and intelligible variations, the spelling is uniform throughout, and consistent with the highly phonetic system employed by the scribe of the very valuable Ellesmere MS. of the Canterbury Tales. The old reproach, that Chaucer's works are chiefly remarkable for bad spelling, can no longer be fairly made; since the spelling here given is a fair guide to the old pronunciation of nearly every word. For further particulars, see the Introduction to vol. iv. and the remarks on Chaucer's language in vol. v.

The present edition comprises the whole of Chaucer's Works, whether in verse or prose, together with a commentary (contained in the Notes) upon every passage which seems to present any difficulty or to require illustration. It is arranged in six volumes, as follows.

Vol. I. commences with a Life of Chaucer, containing all the known facts and incidents that have been recorded, with [viii]authorities for the same, and dates. It also contains the Romaunt of the Rose and the Minor Poems, with a special Introduction and illustrative Notes. The Introduction discusses the genuineness of the poems here given, and explains why certain poems, formerly ascribed to Chaucer with more rashness than knowledge, are here omitted.

The attempt to construct a reasonably good text of the Romaunt has involved great labour; all previous texts abound with corruptions, many of which have now for the first time been amended, partly by help of diligent collation of the two authorities, and partly by help of the French original.

Vol. II. contains Boethius and Troilus, each with a special Introduction. The text of Boethius is much more correct than in any previous edition, and appears for the first time with modern punctuation. The Notes are nearly all new, at any rate as regards the English version.

The text of Troilus is also a new one. The valuable 'Corpus MS.' has been collated for the first time; and several curious words, which have been hitherto suppressed because they were not understood, have been restored to the text, as explained in the Introduction. Most of the explanatory Notes are new; others have appeared in Bell's edition.

Vol. III. contains The House of Fame, the Legend of Good Women, and the Treatise on the Astrolabe; with special Introductions. All these have been previously edited by myself, with Notes. Both the text and the Notes have been carefully revised, and contain several corrections and additions. The latter part of the volume contains a discussion of the Sources of the Canterbury Tales.

Vol. IV. contains the Canterbury Tales, with the Tale of Gamelyn appended. The MSS. of the Canterbury Tales, and the mode of printing them, are discussed in the Introduction.

Vol. V. contains a full Commentary on the Canterbury Tales, in the form of Notes. Such as have appeared before have been carefully revised; whilst many of them appear for the first time. The volume further includes all necessary helps for the study of Chaucer, such as remarks on the pronunciation, grammar, and scansion.

^*_*^* Many of the documents referred to in the foot-notes are printed at length in Godwin's Life of Chaucer, 2nd ed. 1804 (vol. iv), or in the Life by Sir H. Nicolas. The former set are marked (G.); the latter set are denoted by a reference to 'Note A,' or 'Note B'; &c.

§ 1. The name Chaucer, like many others in England in olden times, was originally significant of an occupation. The Old French chaucier (for which see Godefroy's Old French Dictionary) signified rather 'a hosier' than 'a shoemaker,' though it was also sometimes used in the latter sense. The modern French chausse represents a Low Latin calcia, fem. sb., a kind of hose, closely allied to the Latin calceus, a shoe. See Chausses, Chaussure, in the New English Dictionary.

It is probable that the Chaucer family came originally from East Anglia. Henry le Chaucier is mentioned as a citizen of Norfolk in 1275; and Walter le Chaucer as the same, in 1292^[1]. But Gerard le Chaucer, in 1296, and Bartholomew le Chaucer, in 1312-3, seem to have lived near Colchester^[2].

In several early instances, the name occurs in connexion with Cordwainer Street, or with the small Ward of the City of London bearing the same name. Thus, Baldwin le Chaucer dwelt in 'Cordewanerstrete' in 1307; Elyas le Chaucer in the same, in 1318-9; Nicholas Chaucer in the same, in 1356; and Henry Chaucer was a man-at-arms provided for the king's service by Cordwanerstrete Ward^[3]. This is worthy of remark, because, as [x]we shall see presently, both Chaucer's father and his grandmother once resided in the same street, the northern end of which is now called Bow Lane, the southern end extending to Garlick Hithe. (See the article on Cordwainer Street Ward in Stowe's Survey of London.)

§ 2. Robert le Chaucer. The earliest relative with whom we can certainly connect the poet is his grandfather Robert, who is first mentioned, together with Mary his wife, in 1307, when they sold ten acres of land in Edmonton to Ralph le Clerk, for 100s.^[4] On Aug. 2, 1310, Robert le Chaucer was appointed 'one of the collectors in the port of London of the new customs upon wines granted by the merchants of Aquitaine^[5].' It is also recorded that he was possessed of one messuage, with its appurtenances, in Ipswich^[6]; and it was alleged, in the course of some law-proceedings (of which I have more to say below), that the said estate was only worth 20 shillings a year. He is probably the Robert Chaucer who is mentioned under the date 1310, in the Early Letter-books of the City of London^[7].

Robert Chaucer was married, in or before 1307 (see above), to a widow named Maria or Mary Heyroun^[8], whose maiden name was probably Stace^[9]; and the only child of whom we find any mention was his son and heir, named John, who was the poet's father. At the same time, it is necessary to observe that Maria had a son still living, named Thomas Heyroun, who died in 1349^[10]. [xi]

John Chaucer was born, as will be shewn, in 1312; and his father Robert died before 1316 (Close Rolls, 9 Edw. II., p. 318).

§ 3. Richard le Chaucer. Some years after Robert's death, namely in 1323^[11], his widow married for the third time. Her third husband was probably a relative (perhaps a cousin) of her second, his name being Richard le Chaucer, a vintner residing in the Ward of Cordwainer Street; respecting whom several particulars are known.

Richard le Chaucer was 'one of the vintners sworn at St. Martin's, Vintry, in 1320, to make proper scrutiny of wines^[12]'; so that he was necessarily brought into business relations with Robert, whose widow he married in 1323, as already stated.

A plea held at Norwich in 1326, and entered on mem. 13 of the Coram Rege Roll of Hilary 19 Edw. II.^[13], is, for the present purpose, so important that I here quote Mr. Rye's translation of the more material portions of it from the Life-Records of Chaucer (Chaucer Soc.), p. 125:—

And it was further alleged that the said Agnes, T., G., and L. did not cause the said heir to be married.

'Most of the rest of the membrane,' adds Mr. Rye, 'is taken up with a long technical dispute as to jurisdiction, of which the mayor and citizens of London apparently got the best; for the trial came on before R. Baynard and Hamo de Chikewell [Chigwell] and Nicholas de Farndon (the two latter sitting on behalf of the City) at St. Martin's the Great (le Grand), London, on the Sunday [Sept. 7, 1326] next before the Nativity of the B.V.M. [Sept. 8]; when, the defendants making default, a verdict was entered for the plaintiffs for 250l. damages.'

Further information as to this affair is given in the Liber Albus, ed. Riley, 1859, vol. i. pp. 437-444. A translation of this passage is given at pp. 376-381 of the English edition of the same work, published by the same editor in 1861. We hence learn that the Staces, being much dissatisfied with the heavy damages which they were thus called upon to pay, attainted Richard le Chaucer and his wife, in November, 1328, of committing perjury in the above-mentioned trial. But it was decided that attaint does not lie as to the verdict of a jury in London; a decision so important that the full particulars of the trial and of this appeal were carefully preserved among the city records. [xiii]

Mr. Rye goes on to give some information as to a third document relating to the same affair. It appears that Geoffrey Stace next 'presented a petition to parliament (2 Edw. III., 1328, no. 6), praying for relief against the damages of 250l., which he alleged were excessive, on the ground that the heir's estate was only worth 20s. a year^[17]. This petition sets out all the proceedings, referring to John as "fuiz [fiz] et heire Robert le Chaucier," but puts the finding of the jury thus: "et trove fu qu'ils avoient ravi le dit heire, mes ne mie mariee," and alleges that "le dit heire est al large et ove [with] les avantditz Richard et Marie demourant et unkore dismarie."' The result of this petition is unknown.

The fact that Mary le Chaucer claimed to be nearer in relationship to the heir (being, in fact, his mother) than the Staces, clearly shews that they also were very near relations. We can hardly doubt that the maiden name of Mary le Chaucer was Stace, and that she was sister to Thomas and Geoffrey Stace.

In Dec. 1324, John le Chaucer was, according to his mother's statement, 'under age'; i. e. less than fourteen years old. According to the Staces, he had 'completed the age of twelve before the suing out, &c.' We may safely infer that John was still under twelve when the Staces carried him off, on Dec. 3, 1324. Hence he was born in 1312, and we have seen that his father Robert married the widow Maria Heyroun not later than 1307 (§ 2). She was married to Richard in 1323 (one year before 1324), and she died before 1349, as Richard was then a widower.

The attempt to marry John to Joan de Westhale (probably his cousin) was unsuccessful. He was still unmarried in Nov. 1328, and still only sixteen years old. This disposes at once of an old tradition, for which no authority has ever been discovered, that the poet was born in 1328. The earliest date that can fairly be postulated for the birth of Geoffrey is 1330; and even then his father was only eighteen years old.

We further learn from Riley's Memorials of London (Pref. p. xxxiii), that Richard Chaucer was a man of some wealth. He was assessed, in 1340, to lend 10l. towards the expenses of the French war; and again, in 1346, for 6l. and 1 mark towards [xiv]the 3,000l. given to the king. In 1345, he was witness to a conveyance of a shop situated next his own tenement and tavern in La Reole or Royal Street, near Upper Thames Street.

The last extant document relative to Richard Chaucer is his will. Sir H. Nicolas (Life of Chaucer, Note A) says that the will of Richard Chaucer, vintner, of London, dated on Easter-day (Apr. 12), 1349, was proved in the Hustings Court of the City of London by Simon Chamberlain and Richard Litlebury, on the feast of St. Margaret (July 20), in the same year. He bequeathed his tenement and tavern, &c., in the street called La Reole, to the Church of St. Aldermary in Bow Lane, where he was buried; and left other property to pious uses. The will mentions only his deceased wife Mary and her son Thomas Heyroun; and appointed Henry at Strete and Richard Mallyns his executors^[18]. From this we may infer that his stepson John was, by this time, a prosperous citizen, and already provided for.

The will of Thomas Heyroun (see the same Note A) was dated just five days earlier, April 7, 1349, and was also proved in the Hustings Court. He appointed his half-brother, John Chaucer, his executor; and on Monday after the Feast of St. Thomas the Martyr^[19] in the same year, John Chaucer, by the description of 'citizen and vintner, executor of the will of my brother Thomas Heyroun,' executed a deed relating to some lands. (Records of the Hustings Court, 23 Edw. III.)

It thus appears that Richard Chaucer and Thomas Heyroun both died in 1349, the year of the first and the most fatal pestilence.

§ 4. John Chaucer. Of John Chaucer, the poet's father, not many particulars are known. He was born, as we have seen, about 1312, and was not married till 1329, or somewhat later. His wife's name was Agnes, described in 1369 as the kinswoman (consanguinea) and heiress of the city moneyer, Hamo de Copton, who is known to have owned property in Aldgate^[20]. He was [xv]a citizen and vintner of London, and owned a house in Thames Street^[21], close to Walbrook, a stream now flowing underground beneath Walbrook Street^[22]; so that it must have been near the spot where the arrival platform of the South-Eastern railway (at Cannon Street) now crosses Thames Street. In this house, in all probability, Chaucer was born; at any rate, it became his own property, as he parted with it in 1380. It is further known that John and Agnes Chaucer were possessed of a certain annual quit-rent of 40d. sterling, arising out of a tenement in the parish of St. Botolph-without-Aldgate^[23].

In 1338 (on June 12), John Chaucer obtained letters of protection, being then on an expedition to Flanders, in attendance on the king^[24]. Ten years later, in the months of February and November, 1348, he is referred to as being deputy to the king's butler in the port of Southampton^[25]. In 1349, as we have seen, he was executor to the will of his half-brother, Thomas Heyroun. There is a mention of him in 1352^[26]. His name appears, together with that of his wife Agnes, in a conveyance of property dated Jan. 16, 1366^[27]; but he died shortly afterwards, aged about fifty-four. His widow married again in the course of a few months; for she is described in a deed dated May 6, 1367, as being then the wife of Bartholomew atte Chapel, citizen and vintner of London, and lately wife of John Chaucer, citizen and vintner^[28]. The date of her death is not known.

§ 5. Chaucer's Early Years. The exact date of Geoffrey's birth is not known, and will probably always remain a subject of dispute. It cannot, as we have seen, have been earlier than [xvi]1330; and it can hardly have been later than 1340. That it was nearer to 1340 than 1330, is the solution which best suits all the circumstances of the case. Those who argue for an early date do so solely because the poet sometimes refers to his 'old age'; as for example in the Envoy to Scogan, 35-42, written probably in 1393; and still earlier, probably in 1385, Gower speaks, in the epilogue to the former edition of his Confessio Amantis, of the 'later age' of Chaucer, and of his 'dayes olde'; whereas, if Chaucer was born in 1340, he was, at that time, only forty-five years old. But it is essential to observe that Gower is speaking comparatively; he contrasts Chaucer's 'later age' with 'the floures of his youth,' when he 'fulfild the land,' in sundry wise, 'of ditees and of songes glade.' And, in spite of all the needless stress that has been laid upon such references as the above, we must, if we really wish to ascertain the truth without prejudice, try to bear in mind the fact that, in the fourteenth century, men were deemed old at an age which we should now esteem as almost young. Chaucer's pupil, Hoccleve, describes himself as worn out with old age, and ready to die, at the age of fifty-three; all that he can look forward to is making a translation of a treatise on 'learning to die.'

And further, if, in order to make out that Chaucer died at the age of nearly 70, we place his birth near the year 1330, we are at once confronted with the extraordinary difficulty, that the poet was already nearly 39 when he wrote 'The Book of the Duchesse,' certainly one of the earliest of his poems that have been preserved, and hardly to be esteemed as a highly satisfactory performance. But as the exact date still remains uncertain, I can only say that we must place it between 1330 and 1340. The reader can incline to whichever end of the decade best pleases him. I merely record my opinion, for what it is worth, that 'shortly before 1340' fits in best with all the facts. [xvii]

The earliest notice of Geoffrey Chaucer, on which we can rely, refers to the year 1357. This discovery is due to Mr. (now Dr.) E. A. Bond, who, in 1851, found some fragments of an old household account which had been used to line the covers of a MS. containing Lydgate's Storie of Thebes and Hoccleve's De Regimine Principum, and now known as MS. Addit. 18,632 in the British Museum. They proved to form a part of the Household Accounts of Elizabeth, Countess of Ulster, wife of Lionel, Duke of Clarence, the third son of King Edward III., for the years 1356-9^[30]. These Accounts shew that, in April, 1357, when the Countess was in London, an entire suit of clothes, consisting of a paltock or short cloak, a pair of red and black breeches, and shoes, was provided for Geoffrey Chaucer at a cost of 7s., equal to about 5l. of our present money. On the 20th of May another article of dress was purchased for him in London. In December of the same year (1357), when the Countess was at Hatfield (near Doncaster) in Yorkshire, her principal place of residence, we find a note of a donation of 2s. 6d. to Geoffrey Chaucer for necessaries at Christmas. It further appears that John of Gaunt, the Countess's brother-in-law, was a visitor at Hatfield at the same period; which indicates the probable origin of the interest in the poet's fortunes which that illustrious prince so frequently manifested, during a long period of years.

It is further worthy of remark that, on several occasions, a female attendant on the Countess is designated as 'Philippa Pan', which is supposed to be the contracted form of Panetaria, i. e. mistress of the pantry. 'Speculations suggest themselves,' says Dr. Bond, 'that the Countess's attendant Philippa may have been Chaucer's future wife.... The Countess died in 1363, ... and nothing would be more likely than that the principal lady of her household should have found shelter after her death in the family of her husband's mother,' i. e. Queen Philippa. It is quite possible; it is even probable.

Perhaps it was at Hatfield that Chaucer picked up some knowledge of the Northern dialect, as employed by him in the Reves Tale. The fact that the non-Chaucerian Fragment B of the Romaunt of the Rose exhibits traces of a Northern dialect is [xviii]quite a different matter; for Fragment A, which is certainly Chaucer's, shews no trace of anything of the kind. What was Chaucer's exact position in the Countess of Ulster's household, we are not informed. If he was born about 1340, we may suppose that he was a page; if several years earlier, he would, in 1357, have been too old for such service. We only know that he was attached to the service of Lionel, duke of Clarence, and of the Countess of Ulster his wife, as early as the beginning of 1357, and was at that time at Hatfield, in Yorkshire. 'He was present,' says Dr. Bond, 'at the celebration of the feast of St. George, at Edward III's court, in attendance on the Countess, in April of that year; he followed the court to Woodstock; and he was again at Hatfield, probably from September, 1357, to the end of March, 1358, and would have witnessed there the reception of John of Ghent, then Earl of Richmond.' We may well believe that he accompanied the Countess when she attended the funeral of Queen Isabella (king Edward's mother), which took place at the Church of the Friars Minors, in Newgate Street, on Nov. 27, 1358.

§ 6. Chaucer's first expedition. 1359-60. A year later, in November, 1359, Chaucer joined the great expedition of Edward III. to France. 'There was not knight, squire, or man of honour, from the age of twenty to sixty years, that did not go^[31].' The king of England was 'attended by the prince of Wales and three other sons,' including 'Lionel, earl of Ulster^[32]'; and we may be sure that Chaucer accompanied his master prince Lionel. The march of the troops lay through Artois, past Arras to Bapaume; then through Picardy, past Peronne and St. Quentin, to Rheims, which Edward, with his whole army, ineffectually besieged for seven weeks. It is interesting to note that the army must, on this occasion, have crossed the Oise, somewhere near Chauny and La-Fère, which easily accounts for the mention of that river in the House of Fame (l. 1928); and shews the uselessness of Warton's suggestion, that Chaucer learnt the name of that river by studying Provençal poetry! In one of the numerous skirmishes that took place, Chaucer had the misfortune to be taken prisoner. This appears from his own evidence, in the 'Scrope and Grosvenor' trial, referred to below under the date [xix]of 1386; he then testified that he had seen Sir Richard Scrope wearing arms described as 'azure, a bend or,' before the town of 'Retters,' an obvious error for Rethel^[33], not far from Rheims; and he added that he 'had seen him so armed during the whole expedition, until he (the said Geoffrey) was taken.' See the evidence as quoted at length at p. xxxvi. But he was soon ransomed, viz. on March 1, 1360; and the King himself contributed to his ransom the sum of 16l.^[34] According to Froissart, Edward was at this time in the neighbourhood of Auxerre^[35].

After a short and ineffectual siege of Paris, the English army suffered severely from thunder-storms during a retreat towards Chartres, and Edward was glad to make peace; articles of peace were accordingly concluded, on May 8, 1360, at Bretigny, near Chartres. King John of France was set at liberty, leaving Eltham on Wednesday, July 1; and after stopping for three nights on the road, viz. at Dartford, Rochester, and Ospringe, he arrived at Canterbury on the Saturday^[36]. On the Monday he came to Dover, and thence proceeded to Calais. And surely Chaucer must have been present during the fifteen days of October which the two kings spent at Calais in each other's company; the Prince of Wales and his two brothers, Lionel and Edmund, being also present^[37]. On leaving Calais, King John and the English princes 'went on foot to the church of our Lady of Boulogne, where they made their offerings most devoutly, and afterward returned to the abbey at Boulogne, which had been prepared for the reception of the King of France and the princes of England^[38].' [xx]

On July 1, 1361, prince Lionel was appointed lieutenant of Ireland, probably because he already bore the title of Earl of Ulster. It does not appear that Chaucer remained in his service much longer; for he must have been attached to the royal household not long after the return of the English army from France. In the Schedule of names of those employed in the Royal Household, for whom robes for Christmas were to be provided, Chaucer's name occurs as seventeenth in the list of thirty-seven esquires. The list is not dated, but is marked by the Record Office '? 40 Edw. III,' i. e. 1366^[39]. However, Mr. Selby thinks the right date of this document is 1368.

§ 7. Chaucer's Marriage: Philippa Chaucer. In 1366, we find Chaucer already married. On Sept. 12, in that year, Philippa Chaucer received from the queen, after whom she was doubtless named, a pension of ten marks (or 6l. 13s. 4d.) annually for life, perhaps on the occasion of her marriage; and we find her described as 'una domicellarum camerae Philippae Reginae Angliae^[40].' The first known payment on behalf of this pension is dated Feb. 19, 1368^[41]. Nicolas tells us that her pension 'was confirmed by Richard the Second; and she apparently received it (except between 1370^[42] and 1373, in 1378, and in 1385, the reason of which omissions does not appear) from 1366 until June 18, 1387. The money was usually paid to her through her husband; but in November, 1374, by the hands of John de Hermesthorpe, and in June, 1377 (the Poet being then on his mission in France), by Sir Roger de Trumpington, whose wife, Lady Blanche de Trumpington, was [then], like herself^[43], in the service of the Duchess of Lancaster.' As no payment appears after June, 1387, we may conclude that she died towards the end of that year^[44]. [xxi]

Philippa's maiden name is not known. She cannot be identified with Philippa Picard, because both names, viz. Philippa Chaucer and Philippa Picard, occur in the same document^[45]. Another supposition identifies her with Philippa Roet, on the assumption that Thomas Chaucer, on whose tomb appear the arms of Roet, was her son. This, as will be shewn hereafter, is highly probable, though not quite certain.

It is possible that she was the same person as Philippa, the 'lady of the pantry,' who has been already mentioned as belonging to the household of the Countess of Ulster. If so, she doubtless entered the royal household on the Countess's death in 1363, and was married in 1366, or earlier. After the death of the queen in 1369 (Aug. 15), we find that (on Sept. 1) the king gave Chaucer, as being one of his squires of lesser degree, three ells of cloth for mourning; and, at the same time, six ells of cloth, for the same, to Philippa Chaucer^[46].

In 1372, John of Gaunt married (as his second wife) Constance, elder daughter of Pedro, king of Castile; and in the same year (Aug. 30), he granted Philippa Chaucer a pension of 10l. per annum, in consideration of her past and future services to his dearest wife, the queen of Castile^[47]. Under the name of Philippa Chaucy (as the name is also written in this volume), the duke presented her with a 'botoner,' apparently a button-hook, and six silver-gilt buttons as a New Year's gift for the year 1373^[48]. In 1374, on June 13, he granted 10l. per annum to his well-loved Geoffrey Chaucer and his well-beloved Philippa, for their service to Queen Philippa and to his wife the queen [i. e. of Castile], to be received at the duke's manor of the Savoy^[49]. In 1377, on May 31, payments were made to Geoffrey Chaucer, varlet, of an annuity of 20 marks that day granted, and of 10 marks to Philippa Chaucer (granted to her for life) as being one of the damsels of the chamber to the late queen, by the hands of [xxii]Geoffrey Chaucer, her husband^[50]. In 1380, the duke gave Philippa a silver hanap (or cup) with its cover, as his New Year's gift; and a similar gift in 1381 and 1382^[51]. A payment of 5l. to Geoffrey 'Chaucy' is recorded soon after the first of these gifts. In 1384, the sum of 13l. 6s. 8d. (20 marks) is transmitted to Philippa Chaucer by John Hinesthorp, chamberlain^[52]. The last recorded payment of a pension to Philippa Chaucer is on June 18, 1387; and it is probable, as said above, that she died very shortly afterwards.

Sir H. Nicolas mentions that, in 1380-2, Philippa Chaucer was one of the three ladies in attendance on the Duchess of Lancaster, the two others being Lady Senche Blount and Lady Blanche de Trompington; and that in June, 1377, as mentioned above, her pension was paid to Sir Roger de Trumpington, who was Lady Blanche's husband. This is worth a passing notice; for it clearly shews that the poet was familiar with the name of Trumpington, and must have known of its situation near Cambridge. And this may account for his laying the scene of the Reves Tale in that village, without necessitating the inference that he must have visited Cambridge himself. For indeed, it is not easy to see why the two 'clerks' should have been benighted there; the distance from Cambridge is so slight that, even in those days of bad roads, they could soon have returned home after dark without any insuperable difficulty.

§ 8. 1367. To return to Chaucer. In 1367, we find him 'a valet of the king's household'; and by the title of 'dilectus valettus noster,' the king, in consideration of his former and his future services, granted him, on June 20, an annual salary of 20 marks (13l. 6s. 8d.) for life, or until he should be otherwise provided for^[53]. Memoranda are found of the payment of this pension, in half-yearly instalments, on November 6, 1367, and May 25, 1368^[54]; but not in November, 1368, or May, 1369. The next entry as to its payment is dated October, 1369^[55]. As to the [xxiii]duties of a valet in the royal household, see Life-Records of Chaucer, part ii. p. xi. Amongst other things, he was expected to make beds, hold torches, set boards (i. e. lay the tables for dinner), and perform various menial offices.

§ 9. 1368. The note that he received his pension, in 1368, on May 25, is of some importance. It renders improbable a suggestion of Speght, that he accompanied his former master, Lionel, Duke of Clarence, to Italy in this year. Lionel set off with an unusually large retinue, about the 10th of May^[56], and passed through France on his way to Italy, where he was shortly afterwards married, for the second time, to Violante, daughter of Galeazzo Visconti. But his married life was of short duration; he died on Oct. 17 of the same year, not without suspicion of poison. His will, dated Oct. 3, 1368, is given in Testamenta Vetusta, ed. Nicolas, p. 70. It does not appear that Chaucer went to Italy before 1372-3; but it is interesting to observe that, on his second journey there in 1378, he was sent to treat with Barnabo Visconti, Galeazzo's brother, as noted at p. xxxii.

§ 10. 1369. In this year, Chaucer was again campaigning in France. An advance of 10l. is recorded as having been made to him by Henry de Wakefeld, the Keeper of the King's Wardrobe; and he is described as 'equitanti de guerre (sic) in partibus Francie^[57].' In the same year, there is a note that Chaucer was to have 20s. for summer clothes^[58].

This year is memorable for the last of the three great pestilences which afflicted England, as well as other countries, in the fourteenth century. Queen Philippa died at Windsor on Aug. 15; and we find an entry, dated Sept. 1, that Geoffrey Chaucer, a squire of less estate, and his wife Philippa, were to have an allowance for mourning^[59], as stated above. Less than a month later, the Duchess Blaunche died, on Sept. 12; and her death was [xxiv]commemorated by the poet in one of the earliest of his extant poems, the Book of the Duchesse (see p. 277).

§ 11. 1370-1372. In the course of the next ten years (1370-80), the poet was attached to the court, and employed in no less than seven diplomatic services. The first of these occasions was during the summer of 1370, when he obtained the usual letters of protection, dated June 10, to remain in force till the ensuing Michaelmas^[60]. That he returned immediately afterwards, appears from the fact that he received his half-yearly pension in person on Tuesday, the 8th of October^[61]; though on the preceding occasion (Thursday, April 25), it was paid to Walter Walssh instead of to himself^[62].

In 1371 and 1372, he received his pension himself^[63]. In 1372 and 1373 he received 2l. for his clothes each year. This was probably a customary annual allowance to squires^[64]. A like payment is again recorded in 1377.

Towards the end of the latter year, on Nov. 12, 1372, Chaucer, being then 'scutifer,' or one of the king's esquires, was joined in a commission with James Provan and John de Mari, the latter of whom is described as a citizen of Genoa, to treat with the duke, citizens, and merchants of Genoa, for the purpose of choosing an English port where the Genoese might form a commercial establishment^[65]. On Dec. 1, he received an advance of 66l. 13s. 4d. towards his expenses^[66]; and probably left England before the close of the year.

§ 12. 1373. Chaucer's First Visit to Italy. All that is known of this mission is that he visited Florence as well as Genoa, and that he returned before Nov. 22, 1373, on which day he received his pension in person^[67]. It further appears that his [xxv]expenses finally exceeded the money advanced to him; for on Feb. 4, 1374, a further sum was paid to him, on this account, of 25l. 6s. 8d.^[68] It was probably on this occasion that Chaucer met Petrarch at Padua, and learnt from him the story of Griselda, reproduced in the Clerkes Tale. Some critics prefer to think that Chaucer's assertions on this point are to be taken as imaginative, and that it was the Clerk, and not himself, who went to Padua; but it is clear that in writing the Clerkes Tale, Chaucer actually had a copy of Petrarch's Latin version before him; and it is difficult to see how he came by it unless he obtained it from Petrarch himself or by Petrarch's assistance. For further discussion of this point, see remarks on the Sources of the Clerkes Tale, in vol. iii., and the notes in vol. v.^[69] We must, in any case, bear in mind the important influence which this mission to Italy, and a later one in 1378-9 to the same country, produced upon the development of his poetical writings.

It may be convenient to note here that Petrarch resided chiefly at Arquà, within easy reach of Padua, in 1370-4. His death took place there on July 18, 1374, soon after Chaucer had returned home.

§ 13. 1374. We may fairly infer that Chaucer's execution of this important mission was satisfactorily performed; for we find that on the 23rd of April, 1374, on the celebration at Windsor of the festival of St. George, the king made him a grant of a pitcher of wine daily, to be received in the port of London from the king's butler^[70]. This was, doubtless, found to be rather a troublesome gift; accordingly, it was commuted, in 1378 (April 18), for the annual sum of 20 marks (13l. 6s. 8d.)^[71]. The original grant was made 'dilecto Armigero nostro, Galfrido Chaucer.' [xxvi]

On May 10, in the same year, the corporation of London granted Chaucer a lease for his life of the dwelling-house situate above the city-gate of Aldgate, on condition that he kept the same in good repair; he seems to have made this his usual residence till 1385, and we know that he retained possession of it till October, 1386^[72].

Four weeks later, on June 8, 1374, he was appointed Comptroller of the Customs and Subsidy of wools, skins, and tanned hides in the Port of London, with the usual fees. Like his predecessors, he was to write the rolls of his office with his own hand, to be continually present, and to perform his duties personally (except, of course, when employed on the King's service elsewhere); and the other part of the seal called the 'coket' (quod dicitur coket) was to remain in his custody^[73]. The warrant by which, on June 13, 1374, the Duke of Lancaster granted him 10l. for life, in consideration of the services of himself and his wife, has been mentioned at p. xxi. In the same year, he received his half-yearly pension of 10 marks as usual; and again in 1375.

§ 14. 1375. On Nov. 8, 1375, his income was, for a time, considerably increased. He received from the crown a grant of the custody of the lands and person of Edmond, son and heir of Edmond Staplegate of Kent^[74], who had died in 1372^[75]; this he retained for three years, during which he received in all, for his wardship and on Edmond's marriage, the sum of 104l. This is ascertained from the petition presented by Edmond de Staplegate to Richard II. at his coronation, in which he laid claim to be permitted to exercise the office of chief butler to the king^[76]. And further, on Dec. 28, 1375, he received a grant from the king of the custody of five 'solidates' of rent for land at Soles, in Kent, during the minority of William de Solys, then an infant aged 1 year, son and heir of John Solys, deceased; together with a fee due on the marriage of the said heir^[77]. But the value of this grant cannot have been large. [xxvii]

§15. 1376. In 1376, on May 31, he received at the exchequer his own half-yearly pension of ten marks and his wife's of five marks, or 10l. in all (see Notes and Queries, 3rd Ser. viii. 63); and in October he received an advance from the exchequer of 50s. on account of his pension^[78]. He also duly received his annuity of 10l. from the duke of Lancaster (Oct. 18, 1376, and June 12, 1377)^[79].

In the same year, we also meet with the only known record connected with Chaucer's exercise of the Office of Comptroller of the Customs. On July 12, 1376, the King granted him the sum of 71l. 4s. 6d., being the value of a fine paid by John Kent, of London, for shipping wool to Dordrecht without having paid the duty thereon^[80].

Towards the end of this year, Sir John Burley and Geoffrey Chaucer were employed together on some secret service (in secretis negociis domini Regis), the nature of which is unknown; for on Dec. 23, 1376, Sir John 'de Burlee' received 13l. 6s. 8d., and Chaucer half that sum, for the business upon which they had been employed^[81].

§16. 1377. On Feb. 12, 1377, Chaucer was associated with Sir Thomas Percy (afterwards Earl of Worcester) in a secret mission to Flanders, the nature of which remains unknown; and on this occasion Chaucer received letters of protection during his mission, to be in force till Michaelmas in the same year^[82]. Five days later, on Feb. 17, the sum of 33l. 6s. 8d. was advanced to Sir Thomas, and 10l. to Chaucer, for their expenses^[83]. They started immediately, and the business was transacted by March 25; and on April 11 Chaucer himself received at the exchequer the sum of 20l. as a reward from the king for the various journeys which he had made abroad upon the king's [xxviii]service (pro regardo suo causâ diuersorum viagiorum per ipsum Galfridum factorum, eundo ad diuersas partes transmarinas ex precepto domini Regis in obsequio ipsius domini Regis)^[84].

While Sir Thomas Percy and Chaucer were absent in Flanders, viz. on Feb. 20, 1377, the Bishop of Hereford, Lord Cobham, Sir John Montacu (i. e. Montague), and Dr. Shepeye were empowered to treat for peace with the French King^[85]. Their endeavours must have been ineffectual; for soon after Chaucer's return, viz. on April 26, 1377, Sir Guichard d'Angle and several others were also appointed to negotiate a peace with France^[86]. Though Chaucer's name does not expressly appear in this commission, he was clearly in some way associated with it; for only six days previously (Apr. 20), letters of protection were issued to him, to continue till Aug. 1, whilst he was on the king's service abroad^[87]; and on April 30, he was paid the sum of 26l. 13s. 4d. for his wages on this occasion^[88]. We further find, from an entry in the Issue Roll for March 6, 1381 (noticed again at p. xxix), that he was sent to Moustrell (Montreuil) and Paris, and that he was instructed to treat for peace.

This is clearly the occasion to which Froissart refers in the following passage. 'About Shrovetide^[89], a secret treaty was formed between the two kings for their ambassadors to meet at Montreuil-sur-Mer; and the king of England sent to Calais sir Guiscard d'Angle, Sir Richard Sturey, and sir Geoffrey Chaucer. On the part of the French were the lords de Coucy and de la Rivieres, sir Nicholas Bragues and Nicholas Bracier. They for a long time discussed the subject of the above marriage [the marriage of the French princess with Richard, prince of Wales]; and the French, as I was informed, made some offers, but the others demanded different terms, or refused treating. These lords returned therefore, with their treaties, to their sovereigns; and [xxix]the truces were prolonged to the first of May.'—Johnes, tr. of Froissart, bk. i. c. 326.

I think Sir H. Nicolas has not given Froissart's meaning correctly. According to him, 'Froissart states that, in Feb. 1377, Chaucer was joined with Sir Guichard d'Angle, &c., to negociate a secret treaty for the marriage of Richard, prince of Wales, with Mary, daughter of the king of France,' &c.; and that the truce was prolonged till the first of May. And he concludes that Froissart has confused two occasions, because there really was an attempt at a treaty about this marriage in 1378 (see below). It does not appear that Froissart is wrong. He merely gives the date of about Shrovetide (Feb. 10) as the time when 'a secret treaty was formed'; and this must refer to the ineffectual commission of Feb. 20, 1377. After this 'the king of England' really sent 'Sir Guiscard d'Angle' in April; and Chaucer either went with the rest or joined them at Montreuil. Neither does it appear that discussion of the subject of the marriage arose on the English side; it was the French who proposed it, but the English who declined it, for the reason that they had received no instructions to that effect. On the other hand, the English ambassadors, having been instructed to treat for peace, procured, at any rate, a short truce. This explanation seems to me sufficient, especially as Froissart merely wrote what he had been informed; he was not present himself. The very fact that the marriage was proposed by the French on this occasion explains how the English came to consider this proposal seriously in the following year.

Fortunately, the matter is entirely cleared up by the express language employed in the Issue Roll of 4 Ric. II., under the date Mar. 6, as printed in Nicolas, Note R; where the object of the deliberations at Montreuil is definitely restricted to a treaty for peace, whilst the proposal of marriage (from the English side) is definitely dated as having been made in the reign of Richard, not of Edward III. The words are: 'tam tempore regis Edwardi ... in nuncium eiusdem ... versus Moustrell' et Parys ... causa tractatus pacis ... quam tempore domini regis nunc, causa locutionis habite de maritagio inter ipsum dominum regem nunc et filiam eiusdem aduersarii sui Francie.'

The princess Marie, fifth daughter of Charles V., was born in 1370 (N. and Q., 3 S. vii. 470), and was therefore only seven years [xxx]old in 1377; and died in the same year. It is remarkable that Richard married Isabella, daughter of Charles VI., in 1396, when she was only eight.

It is worth notice that Stowe, in his Annales, p. 437, alludes to the same mission. He mentions, as being among the ambassadors, 'the Earle of Salisbury and Sir Richard Anglisison a Poyton [can this be Sir Guiscard D'Angle?], the Bishop of Saint Dauids, the Bishop of Hereford, [and] Geffrey Chaucer, the famous Poet of England.' See Life-Records of Chaucer, p. 133, note 3.

The payments made to Chaucer by John of Gaunt on May 31 of this year have been noticed above in § 7, at p. xxi.

The long reign of Edward III. terminated on June 21, 1377, during which Chaucer had received many favours from the king and the Duke of Lancaster, and some, doubtless, from Lionel, Duke of Clarence. At the same time, his wife was in favour with the queen, till her death in August, 1369; and afterwards, with the second duchess of Lancaster. The poet was evidently, at this time, in easy circumstances; and it is not unlikely that he was somewhat lavish in his expenditure. The accession of Richard, at the early age of eleven, made no difference to his position for some nine years; but in 1386, the adverse supremacy of Thomas, Duke of Gloucester, caused him much pecuniary loss and embarrassment for some time, and he frequently suffered from distress during the later period of his life.

§ 17. Chaucer's earlier poems: till the death of Edward III. It is probable that not much of Chaucer's extant poetry can be referred to the reign of Edward III. At the same time, it is likely that he wrote many short pieces, in the form of ballads, complaints, virelayes, and roundels, which have not been preserved; perhaps some of them were occasional pieces, and chiefly of interest at the time of writing them. Amongst the lost works we may certainly include his translation of 'Origenes upon the Maudelayne,' 'The Book of the Lion,' all but a few stanzas (preserved in the Man of Lawes Tale) of his translation of Pope Innocent's 'Wrecched Engendring of Mankinde,' and all but the first 1705 lines of his translation of Le Roman de la Rose. His early work entitled 'Ceyx and Alcioun' is partly preserved in the Book of the Duchesse, written in 1369-70. His A. B. C. is, perhaps, his earliest extant complete poem.

It seems reasonable to date the poems which show a strong [xxxi]Italian influence after Chaucer's visit to Italy in 1373. The Compleint to his Lady is, perhaps, one of the earliest of these; and the Amorous Complaint bears so strong a resemblance to it that it may have been composed nearly at the same time. The Complaint to Pity seems to belong to the same period, rather than, as assumed in the text, to a time preceding the Book of the Duchesse. The original form of the Life of St. Cecily (afterwards the Second Nonnes Tale) is also somewhat early, as well as the original Palamon and Arcite, and Anelida. I should also include, amongst the earlier works, the original form of the Man of Lawes Tale (from Anglo-French), of the Clerkes Tale (from Petrarch's Latin), and some parts of the Monkes Tale. But the great bulk of his poetry almost certainly belongs to the reign of Richard II. See the List of Works at p. lxii.

§ 18. 1377. (CONTINUED). In the commencement of the new reign, Chaucer was twice paid 40s. by the keeper of the king's Wardrobe, for his half-yearly allowance for robes as one of the (late) king's esquires^[90]. He also received 7l. 2s. 6½d. on account of his daily allowance of a pitcher of wine, calculated from October 27, 1376, to June 21, 1377, the day of king Edward's death^[91].

§ 19. 1378. In 1378, on Jan. 16, Chaucer was again associated with Sir Guichard d'Angle (created Earl of Huntingdon at the coronation of the new king), with Sir Hugh Segrave, and Dr. Skirlawe, in a mission to France to negotiate for the king's marriage with a daughter of the king of France^[92]; this is in accordance with a suggestion which, as noted at p. xxix., originated with the French. The negotiations came, however, to no result.

On Mar. 9, 1378, Geoffrey Chaucer and John Beauchamp are mentioned as sureties for William de Beauchamp, Knight, in a business having respect to Pembroke Castle^[93].

On Mar. 23, 1378, Chaucer's previous annuity of 20 marks was confirmed to him by letters patent^[94]; on April 18, his previous grant of a pitcher of wine was commuted for an annual sum of [xxxii]twenty marks^[95]; and, on May 14, he received 20l. for the arrears of his pension, and 26s. 8d. in advance, for the current half-year^[96].

Chaucer's second visit to Italy: Barnabo Visconti. On May 10, 1378, he received letters of protection, till Christmas^[97]; on May 21, he procured letters of general attorney, allowing John Gower (the poet) and Richard Forrester to act for him during his absence from England^[98]; and on May 28, he received 66l. 13s. 4d. for his wages and the expenses of his journey, which lasted till the 19th of September^[99]. All these entries refer to the same matter, viz. his second visit to Italy. On this occasion, he was sent to Lombardy with Sir Edward Berkeley, to treat with Barnabo Visconti, lord of Milan, and the famous free-lance Sir John Hawkwood, on certain matters touching the king's expedition of war (pro certis negociis expeditionem guerre regis tangentibus); a phrase of uncertain import. This is the Barnabo Visconti, whose death, in 1385, is commemorated by a stanza in the Monkes Tale, B 3589-3596. Of Sir John Hawkwood, a soldier of fortune, and the most skilful general of his age, a memoir is given in the Bibliotheca Topographica Britannica, vol. vi. pp. 1-35. The appointment of Gower as Chaucer's attorney during his absence is of interest, and shews the amicable relations between the two poets at this time. For a discussion of their subsequent relations, see Sources of the Canterbury Tales, vol. iii. § 38, p. 413.

§ 20. 1379-80. In 1379 and 1380, the notices of Chaucer refer chiefly to the payment of his pensions. In 1379, he received 12l. 13s. 4d. with his own hands on Feb. 3^[100]; on May 24, he received the sums of 26s. 4d. and 13l. 6s. 4d. (the latter on account of the original grant of a pitcher of wine), both by assignment^[101], which indicates his absence from London at the time; [xxxiii]and on Dec. 9 he received, with his own hands, two sums of 6l. 13s. 4d. each on account of his two pensions^[102]. In 1380, on July 3, he received the same by assignment^[103]; and on Nov. 28, he received the same with his own hands^[104], together with a sum of 14l. for wages and expenses in connexion with his mission to Lombardy in 1378^[104], in addition to the 66l. 13s. 4d. paid to him on May 28 of that year. He also received 5l. from the Duke of Lancaster on May 11 (N. and Q., 7 S. v. 290).

By a deed dated May 1, 1380, a certain Cecilia Chaumpaigne, daughter of the late William Chaumpaigne and Agnes his wife, released to Chaucer all her rights of action against him 'de raptu meo^[105].' We have no means of ascertaining either the meaning of the phrase, or the circumstances referred to. It may mean that Chaucer was accessory to her abduction, much as Geoffrey Stace and others were concerned in the abduction of the poet's father; or it may be connected with the fact that his 'little son Lowis' was ten years old in 1391, as we learn from the Prologue to the Treatise on the Astrolabe.

§ 21. 1381. On March 6, Chaucer received 22l. for his services in going to Montreuil and Paris in the time of the late king, i. e. in 1377, in order to treat for peace; as well as for his journey to France in 1378 to treat for a marriage between king Richard and the daughter of his adversary (adversarii sui)^[106]. The Treasury must, at this time, have been slack in paying its just debts. On May 24, he and his wife received their usual half-yearly pensions^[107].

By a deed dated June 19, 1380, but preserved in the Hustings Roll, no. 110, at the Guildhall, and there dated 5 Ric. II. (1381-2), Chaucer released his interest in his father's house to Henry Herbury, vintner, in whose occupation it then was; and it is here that he describes himself as 'me Galfridum Chaucer, [xxxiv]filium Johannis Chaucer, Vinetarii Londonie ^[108].' This is the best authority for ascertaining his father's name, occupation, and abode. Towards the close of the year we find the following payments to him; viz. on Nov. 16, sums of 6l. 13s. 4d. and 6s. 8d.; on Nov. 28, the large sum of 46l. 13s. 4d., paid to Nicholas Brembre and John Philipot, Collectors of Customs, and to Geoffrey Chaucer, Comptroller of the Customs; and on Dec. 31, certain sums to himself and his wife^[109].

§ 22. 1382. We have seen that, in 1378, an ineffectual attempt was made to bring about a marriage between the king and a French princess. In 1382, the matter was settled by his marriage with Anne of Bohemia, who exerted herself to calm the animosities which were continually arising in the court, and thus earned the title of the 'good queen Anne.' It was to her that Chaucer was doubtless indebted for some relaxation of his official duties in February, 1385, as noted below.

On May 8, 1382, Chaucer's income was further increased. Whilst retaining his office of Comptroller of the Customs of Wools, the duties of which he discharged personally, he was further appointed Comptroller of the Petty Customs in the Port of London, and was allowed to discharge the duties of the office by a sufficient deputy^[110]. The usual payments of his own and his wife's pensions were made, in this year, on July 22 and Nov. 11. On Dec. 10, a payment to him is recorded, in respect of his office as Comptroller of the Customs ^[111].

§ 23. 1383. In 1383, the recorded payments are: on Feb. 27, 6s. 8d.; on May 5, his own and his wife's pensions; and on Oct. 24, 6l. 13s. 4d. for his own pension^[112]. Besides these, is the following entry for Nov. 23: 'To Nicholas Brembre and John Philipot, Collectors of Customs, and Geoffrey Chaucer, Comptroller; money delivered to them this day in regard of the assiduity, labour, and diligence brought to bear by them on the duties of their office, for the year late elapsed, 46l. 13s. 4d.'; [xxxv]being the same amount as in 1381^[113]. It is possible that the date Dec. 10, on which he tells us that he began his House of Fame, refers to this year.

§ 24. 1384. In 1384, on Apr. 30, he received his own and his wife's pensions^[114]. On Nov. 25, he was allowed to absent himself from his duties for one month, on account of his own urgent affairs; and the Collectors of the Customs were commanded to swear in his deputy^[115]. On Dec. 9, one Philip Chaucer is referred to as Comptroller of the Customs, but Philip is here an error for Geoffrey, as shewn by Mr. Selby^[116].

§ 25. 1385. In 1385, a stroke of good fortune befell him, which evidently gave him much relief and pleasure. It appears that Chaucer had asked the king to allow him to have a sufficient deputy in his office as Comptroller at the Wool Quay (in French, Wolkee) of London^[117]. And on Feb. 17, he was released from the somewhat severe pressure of his official duties (of which he complains feelingly in the House of Fame, 652-660) by being allowed to appoint a permanent deputy^[118]. He seems to have revelled in his newly-found leisure; and we may fairly infer from the Prologue to the Legend of Good Women, which seems to have been begun shortly afterwards, that he was chiefly indebted for this favour to the good queen Anne. (See the Introduction to vol. iii. p. xix.) On April 24, he received his own pensions as usual, in two sums of 6l. 13s. 4d. each; and, on account of his wife's pension, 3l. 6s. 8d.^[119]

§ 26. 1386. In 1386, as shewn by the Issue Rolls, he received his pensions as usual. In other respects, the year was eventful. Chaucer was elected a knight of the shire^[120] for the county of Kent, with which he would therefore seem to have had some connexion, perhaps by the circumstance of residing at [xxxvi]Greenwich (see § 32). He sat accordingly in the parliament which met at Westminster on Oct. 1, and continued its sittings till Nov. 1. He and his colleague, William Betenham, were allowed 24l. 8s. for their expenses in coming to and returning from the parliament, and for attendance at the same; at the rate of 8s. a day for 61 days^[121]. The poet was thus an unwilling contributor to his own misfortunes; for the proceedings of this parliament were chiefly directed against the party of the duke of Lancaster, his patron, and on Nov. 19 the king was obliged to grant a patent by which he was practically deprived of all power. A council of regency of eleven persons was formed, with the duke of Gloucester at their head; and the partisans of John of Gaunt found themselves in an unenviable position. Among the very few persons who still adhered to the king was Sir Nicholas Brembre^[122], Chaucer's associate in the Customs (see note above, Nov. 23, 1383); and we may feel confident that Chaucer's sympathies were on the same side. We shall presently see that, when the king regained his power in 1389, Chaucer almost immediately received a valuable appointment.

It was during the sitting of this parliament, viz. on Oct. 15, that Chaucer was examined at Westminster in the case of Richard, lord Scrope, against the claim of Sir Robert Grosvenor, as to the right of bearing the coat of arms described as 'azure, a bend or.' The account of Chaucer's evidence is given in French^[123]; the following is a translation of it, chiefly in the words of Sir H. Nicolas:—

The statement that Chaucer was, at this time, of the age of 'forty and upwards' (xl. ans et plus) ought to be of assistance in determining the date of his birth; but it has been frequently discredited on the ground that similar statements made, in the same account, respecting other persons, can easily be shewn to be incorrect. It can hardly be regarded as more than a mere phrase, expressing that the witness was old enough to give material evidence. But the testimony that the witness had borne arms for twenty-seven years (xxvii. ans) is more explicit, and happens to tally exactly with the evidence actually given concerning the campaign of 1359; a campaign which we may at once admit, on his own shewing, to have been his first. Taken in connexion with his service in the household of the Countess of Ulster, where his position was probably that of page, we should expect that, in 1359, he was somewhere near 20 years of age, and born not long before 1340. It is needless to discuss the point further, as nothing will convince those who are determined to make much of Chaucer's allusions to his 'old age' (which is, after all, a personal affair), and who cannot understand why Hoccleve should speak of himself as 'ripe for death' when he was only fifty-three. [xxxviii]

It was during the session of this same parliament (Oct. 1386) that Chaucer gave up the house in Aldgate which he had occupied since May, 1374; and the premises were granted by the corporation to one Richard Forster, possibly the same person as the Richard Forrester who had been his proxy in 1378^[125]. In this house he must have composed several of his poems; and, in particular, The Parlement of Foules, The House of Fame, and Troilus, besides making his translation of Boethius. The remarks about 'my house' in the Prologue to the Legend of Good Women, 282, are inconsistent with the position of a house above a city-gate. If, as is probable, they have reference to facts, we may suppose that he had already practically resigned his house to his friend in 1385, when he was no longer expected to perform his official duties personally.

Meanwhile, the duke of Gloucester was daily gaining ascendancy; and Chaucer was soon to feel the resentment of his party. On Dec. 4, 1386, he was deprived of his more important office, that of Comptroller of the Customs of Wool, and Adam Yerdeley was appointed in his stead. Only ten days later, on Dec. 14, he lost his other office likewise, and Henry Gisors became Comptroller of the Petty Customs^[126]. This must have been a heavy loss to one who had previously been in good circumstances, and who seems to have spent his money rather freely^[127]. He was suffered, however, to retain his own and his wife's pensions, as there was no pretence for depriving him of them.

§ 27. 1387. In 1387, the payment of his wife's pension, on June 18, appears for the last time^[128]. It cannot be doubted that she died during the latter part of this year. In the same year, [xxxix]and in the spring of 1388, he received his own pensions, as usual^[129]; but his wife's pension ceased at her death, at a time when his own income was seriously reduced.

§ 28. 1388. In 1388, on May 1, the grants of his two annual pensions, of 20 marks each, were cancelled at his own request, and assigned, in his stead, to John Scalby^[130]. The only probable interpretation of this act is that he was then hard pressed for money, and adopted this ready but rather rash method for obtaining a considerable sum at once. He retained, however, the pension of 10l. per annum, granted him by the duke of Lancaster in 1374. Chaucer was evidently a hard worker and a practical man. We have every reason for believing that he performed his duties assiduously, as he himself asserts; and the loss of his offices in Dec. 1386 must have occasioned a good deal of enforced leisure. This explains at once why the years 1387 and 1388 were, as appears from other considerations, the most active time of his poetical career; he was then hard at work on his Canterbury Tales. And though the loss of his wife, at the close of 1387, must have caused a sad interruption in his congenial task, we can hardly wonder if, after a reasonable interval, he resumed it; it was perhaps the best thing that he could do.

§ 29. 1389. This period of almost complete leisure came to an end in July, 1389; owing, probably, to the fact that the king, on May 3 in that year, suddenly took the government into his own hands. The influence of the duke of Gloucester was on the wane; the duke of Lancaster returned to England; and the cloud that had lain over Chaucer's fortunes was once more dispersed. His public work required some attention, though he was allowed to have a deputy, and the time devoted to the Canterbury Tales was diminished. It is doubtful whether, with the exception of a few occasional pieces, Chaucer wrote much new poetry during the last ten years of his life.

On July 12, Chaucer received the valuable appointment of Clerk of the King's Works at the palace of Westminster, the [xl]Tower of London, the Mews at Charing Cross, and other places. Among them are mentioned the Castle of Berkhemsted (Berkhamstead, Herts.), the King's manors of Kennington (now in London), Eltham (Kent), Clarendon (near Salisbury), Sheen (now Richmond, Surrey)^[131], Byfleet (Surrey), Childern Langley (i. e. King's Langley, Hertfordshire), and Feckenham (Worcestershire); also the Royal lodge of Hatherbergh in the New Forest, and the lodges in the parks of Clarendon, Childern Langley, and Feckenham. He was permitted to execute his duties by deputy, and his salary was 2s. per day, or 36l. 10s. annually, a considerable sum^[132]. A payment to Chaucer, as Clerk of the Works, is recorded only ten days later (July 22); and we find that, about this time, he issued a commission to one Hugh Swayn to provide materials for the king's works at Westminster, Sheen, and elsewhere^[133].

§ 30. 1390. In 1390, on March 13, Chaucer was appointed on a commission, with five others, to repair the banks of the Thames between Woolwich and Greenwich (at that time, probably, his place of residence); but was superseded in 1391^[134].

In the same year, Chaucer was entrusted with the task of putting up scaffolds in Smithfield for the king and queen to see the jousts which took place there in the month of May; this notice is particularly interesting in connexion with the Knightes Tale (A 1881-92). The cost of doing this, amounting to 8l. 12s. 6d., was allowed him in a writ dated July 1, 1390; and he received further payment at the rate of 2s. a day^[135].

About this time, in the 14th year of king Richard (June 22, 1390-June 21, 1391), he was appointed joint forester, with Richard Brittle, of North Petherton Park, in Somersetshire, by the earl of March, the grandson of his first patron, Prince Lionel. Perhaps in consequence of the death of Richard Brittle, he was made sole forester in 21 Ric. II. (1397-8) by the countess of March; and he probably held the appointment till his death in 1400. No appointment, however, is known to have been then [xli]made, and we find that the next forester, appointed in 4 Hen. V. (1416-17), was no other than Thomas Chaucer, who may have been his son^[136]. It is perhaps worthy of remark that some of the land in North Petherton, as shewn by Collinson, descended to Emma, third daughter of William de Placetis, which William had the same office of 'forester of North Petherton' till his death in 1274; and this Emma married John Heyron, who died in 1326-7, seised of lands at Enfield, Middlesex, and at Newton, Exton, and North Petherton, in the county of Somerset (Calend. Inquis. post Mortem, 1806, vol. i. p. 333; col. 1). If this John Heyron was related to the Maria Heyron who was Chaucer's grandmother, there was perhaps a special reason for appointing Chaucer to this particular office.

On July 12, 1390, he was ordered to procure workmen and materials for the repair of St. George's Chapel, Windsor, then in a ruinous condition; this furnishes a very interesting association^[137].

On Sept. 6, 1390, a curious misfortune befell the poet. He was robbed twice on the same day, by the same gang of robbers; once of 10l. of the king's money, at Westminster, and again of 9l. 3s. 2d., of his horse, and of other property, near the 'foul oak' (foule ok) at Hatcham, Surrey (now a part of London, approached by the Old Kent Road, and not far from Deptford and Greenwich). One of the gang confessed the robberies; and Chaucer was forgiven the repayment of the money^[138].

§ 31. 1391. In 1391, on Jan. 22, Chaucer appointed John Elmhurst as his deputy, for superintending repairs at the palace of Westminster and the tower of London; this appointment was confirmed by the king^[139]. It was in this year that he wrote his Treatise on the Astrolabe, for the use of his son Lowis. By this time, the Canterbury Tales had ceased to make much progress. For some unknown reason, Chaucer lost his appointment in the [xlii]summer; for on June 17, a writ was issued, commanding him to give up to John Gedney^[140] all his rolls, &c. connected with his office^[141]; and on Sept. 16, we find, accordingly, that the office was held by John Gedney^[142]; nevertheless, payments to Chaucer as 'late Clerk of the Works' occur on Dec. 16, 1391, Mar. 4 and July 13, 1392, and even as late as in 1393^[143].

§ 32. 1392-3. Chaucer was now once more without public employment. No doubt the Canterbury Tales received some attention, and perhaps we may assign to this period various alterations in the original plan of the poem. The author must by this time have seen the necessity of limiting each of his characters to the telling of one Tale only. The Envoy to Scogan and the Complaint of Venus were probably written in 1393. According to a note written opposite l. 45 of the former poem, Chaucer was then residing at Greenwich, a most convenient position for frequent observation of pilgrims on the road to Canterbury. See §§ 26 and 30.

§ 33. 1394. Chaucer was once more a poor man, although, as a widower, his expenses may have been less. Probably he endeavoured to draw attention to his reduced circumstances, or Henry Scogan may have done so for him, in accordance with the poet's suggestion in l. 48 of the Envoy just mentioned. In 1394, on Feb. 28, he obtained from the king a grant of 20l. per annum for life, payable half-yearly at Easter and Michaelmas, being 6l. 13s. 8d. less than the pensions which he had disposed of in 1388^[144]; but the first payment was not made till Dec. 20, when he received 10l. for the half-year from Easter to Michaelmas, and the proportional sum of 1l. 16s. 7d. for the month of March^[145].

§ 34. 1395. The difficulties which Chaucer experienced at this time, as to money matters, are clearly illustrated during the year 1395. In this year he applied for a loan from the exchequer, in advance of his pension, no less than four times. In this way he borrowed 10l. on April 1; 10l. on June 25; 1l. 6s. 8d. on [xliii]Sept. 9; and 8l. 6s. 8d. on Nov. 27. He repaid the first of these loans on May 28; and the second was covered by his allowance at Michaelmas. He must also have repaid the small third loan, as the account was squared by his receipt of the balance of 1l. 13s. 4d. (instead of 10l.) on March 1, 1396^[146]. All the sums were paid into his own hands, so that he was not far from home in 1395. The fact that he borrowed so small a sum as 1l. 6s. 8d. is significant and saddening.

In 19 Ric. II. (June, 1395-June, 1396), Chaucer was one of the attorneys of Gregory Ballard, to receive seizin of the manor of Spitalcombe, and of other lands in Kent^[147].

§ 35. 1396. In 1396, as noted above, he received the balance of his first half-year's pension on March 1. The second half-year's pension was not paid till Dec. 25^[148]. The Balades of Truth, Gentilesse, and Lak of Stedfastnesse possibly belong to this period, but some critics would place the last of these somewhat earlier.

§ 36. 1397. In 1397, the payment of the pension was again behindhand; there seems to have been some difficulty in obtaining it, due, probably, to the lavish extravagance of the king. Instead of receiving his half-yearly pension at Easter, Chaucer received it much later, and in two instalments; viz. 5l. on July 2, and 5l. on Aug. 9. But after this, things mended; for his Michaelmas pension was paid in full, viz. 10l., on Oct 26^[149]. It was received for him by John Walden, and it is probable that at this time he was in infirm health.

§ 37. 1398. We may certainly infer that, at this time, Chaucer was once more in great distress for money, and considerably in debt. It is also probable that he was becoming infirm; for indeed, his death was now approaching. In the Easter term of 1398 (Apr. 24-May 20), one Isabella Buckholt sued him for the sum of 14l. 1s. 11d. He did not, however, put in an appearance; for the sheriff's return, in the Michaelmas term (Oct. 9-Nov. 28), was—'non est inventus'; and a similar return was again made in the Trinity term of 1399 (June 4-25)^[150]. [xliv]

We are tempted to suspect that the sheriff was not particularly diligent in his search after the debtor. That Chaucer was well aware of the awkwardness of his position, is shewn by the fact that on May 4, 1398, just at the very time when the suit was brought, he applied for, and obtained, letters of protection from the king against his enemies, forbidding any one to sue or arrest him on any plea, except it were connected with land, for the term of two years^[151]. This furnishes an additional reason why the sheriff did not 'find' him. When the two years terminated, in May, 1400, he had not half a year to live.

On June 3, 1398, Chaucer was again unable to receive his pension himself, but it was conveyed to him by William Waxcombe^[152]. At the close of the next month, he was reduced to such pitiable straits that we find him applying personally to the exchequer, for such a trifling advance as 6s. 8d., on July 24; and for the same sum only a week later, on July 31^[152].

In his distress, he determined to send in a petition to the king. A copy of this, in French, is still preserved. On Oct. 13, 1398, he prayed to be allowed a hogshead of wine (tonel de vin), to be given him by the king's butler^[153]; he even asked this favour 'for God's sake and as a work of charity' (pur Dieu et en œure de charitee). It is satisfactory to find that his request met with a prompt response; for only two days afterwards, on Oct. 15, the king made him a grant of a tun of wine annually for life, from the king's butler or his deputy; Sir H. Nicolas computes the value of this grant at about 5l. a year. Moreover, the grant was made to date as from Dec. 1, 1397; so that he necessarily received from it some immediate benefit^[154]. He also received from the exchequer, with his own hands, the sum of 10l. on Oct. 28^[155].

§ 38. 1399. In 1399, the great change in political affairs practically brought his distress to an end; and it is pleasant to think that, as far as money matters were concerned, he ended his [xlv]days in comparative ease. Henry of Lancaster was declared king on Sept. 30; and Chaucer lost no time in laying his case before him. This he did by sending in a copy of his 'Compleint to his Empty Purse,' a poem which seems to have been originally written on some other occasion. He added to it, however, an Envoy of five lines, which, like a postscript to some letters, contained the pith of the matter:—

The king was prompt to reply; it must have given him real satisfaction to be able to assist the old poet, with whom he must have been on familiar terms. On Oct. 3, only the fourth day after the king's accession, the answer came. He was to receive 40 marks yearly (26l. 13s. 4d.), in addition to the annuity of 20l. which king Richard had granted him; so that his income was more than doubled. Even then, he met with a slight misfortune, in losing his letters patent; but, having made oath in Chancery, that the letters patent of Feb. 28, 1394 (referring to king Richard's grant of 20l.), and the new letters patent of Oct. 3, 1399, had been accidentally lost, he procured, on Oct. 13, exemplifications of these records^[156]. These grants were finally confirmed by the king on Oct. 21^[157].

On Christmas eve, 1399, he covenanted for a lease of 53 years (a long term for one at his age to contemplate) of a house situate in the garden of the Chapel of St. Mary, Westminster, near Westminster Abbey, at the annual rent of 2l. 13s. 4d. This lease, from the Custos Capellae Beatae Mariae to Geoffrey Chaucer, dated Dec. 24, 1399, is in the Muniment Room of Westminster Abbey. The house stood on or near the spot now occupied by Henry the Seventh's Chapel^[158]. We find, however, that he had only a life-interest in the lease, as the premises were to revert to the Custos Capellae if the tenant died within the term. [xlvi]

§ 39. 1400. In 1400, payments to him are recorded on Feb. 21, of the pension of 20l. granted by king Richard^[159], in respect of the half-year ending at Michaelmas, 1399; and on June 5, the sum of 5l., being part of a sum of 8l. 13s. 5d. due for a portion of the next half-year, calculated as commencing on Oct. 21, 1399, and terminating on the last day of March, 1400, was sent him by the hands of Henry Somere^[160].

We should notice that this Henry Somere was, at the time, the Clerk of the Receipt of the Exchequer; he was afterwards Under Treasurer, at which time Hoccleve addressed to him a Balade, printed in Furnivall's edition of Hoccleve's Works, at p. 59, followed by a Roundel containing a pun upon his name; as well as a second Balade, addressed to him after he had been made a Baron, and promoted to be Chancellor (see the same, p. 64). Perhaps he was related to John Somere, the Frere, mentioned in the Treatise on the Astrolabe (Prol. 62).

Chaucer died on Oct. 25, 1400, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. The date of his death is only known from an inscription on the tomb of gray marble erected near his grave, in 1556, by Nicholas Brigham, a man of letters, and an admirer of the poet's writings; but it is probably correct, and may have rested on tradition^[161]. We have no note of him after June 5, and no record of a payment of the pension in October. According to Stowe, Chaucer's grave is in the cloister, where also lies the body of 'Henrie Scogan, a learned poet,' i. e. the Scogan who was Chaucer's friend.

§ 40. Chaucer's Arms and Tomb. 'In front of the tomb,' says Sir. H. Nicolas, 'are three panelled divisions of starred quarterfoils (sic), containing shields with the Arms of Chaucer, viz. Per pale argent and gules, a bend counterchanged; and the same Arms also occur in an oblong compartment at the back of the recess, where the following inscription was placed, but which is now almost obliterated, from the partial decomposition and crumbling state of the marble. A small whole-length portrait of Chaucer was delineated in plano on the north side of the inscription, but [xlvii]not a vestige of it is left; and the whole of the recess and canopy has recently been coloured black.

We learn from an interesting note at the end of Caxton's edition of Boethius, that the good printer was not satisfied with printing some of Chaucer's works, but further endeavoured to perpetuate the poet's memory by raising a pillar near his tomb, to support a tablet containing an epitaph consisting of 34 Latin verses. This epitaph was composed by Stephanus Surigonus of Milan, licentiate in decrees, and is reprinted in Stowe's edition of Chaucer's Works (1561), at fol. 355, back. The last four lines refer to Caxton's pious care:—

A description, by Dean Stanley, of the Chaucer window in Westminster Abbey, completed in 1868, is given in Furnivall's Temporary Preface (Ch. Soc.), p. 133. Some of the subjects in the window are taken from the poem entitled 'The Flower and the Leaf,' which he did not write.

It will be observed that Sir H. Nicolas speaks, just above, of 'the arms of Chaucer,' which he describes. But it should be remembered that this is, practically, an assumption, which at once launches us into an uncertain and debateable position. These arms certainly belonged to Thomas Chaucer, for they occur on a [xlviii]seal of his of which a drawing is given in MS. Julius C 7, fol. 153; an accurate copy of which is given by Sir H. Nicolas. It is therefore quite possible that the same arms were assigned to the poet in 1556, only because it was then assumed that Thomas was Geoffrey's son; the fact being that the relationship of Thomas to Geoffrey is open to doubt, and the case requires to be stated with great care.

§ 41. Thomas Chaucer. Few things are more remarkable than the utter absence of unequivocal early evidence as to the above-mentioned point. That Geoffrey Chaucer was a famous man, even in his own day, cannot be doubted; and it is equally certain that Thomas Chaucer was a man of great wealth and of some consequence. Sir H. Nicolas has collected the principal facts relating to him, the most important being the following. On Oct. 26, 1399, Henry IV. granted him the offices of Constable of Wallingford Castle and Steward of the Honours of Wallingford and St. Valery and of the Chiltern Hundreds for life, receiving therefrom 40l. a year, with 10l. additional for his deputy^[162]. On Nov. 5, 1402, he was appointed Chief Butler for life to King Henry IV.^[163]; and there is a note that he had previously been Chief Butler to Richard II.^[164], but the date of that appointment has not been ascertained. He was also Chief Butler to Henry V. until March, 1418, when he was superseded^[165]; but was again appointed Chief Butler to Henry VI. after his accession. He represented Oxfordshire in Parliament in 1402, 1408, 1409, 1412, 1414, 1423, 1427, and 1429; and was Speaker of the House of Commons in 1414^[166], and in other years. 'He was employed on many occasions of trust and importance during the reigns of Henry IV., Henry V., and Henry VI.;' to which Sir H. Nicolas adds, that he 'never attained a higher rank than that of esquire.'

His wealth, at his death in 1434, was unusually great, as shewn by the long list of his landed possessions in the Inquisitiones post Mortem. This wealth he doubtless acquired by his marriage [xlix]with an heiress, viz. Matilda, second daughter and co-heiress of Sir John Burghersh, who died Sept. 21, 1391, when Matilda was 12 years old. Unfortunately, the date of this marriage is uncertain, though Sir H. Nicolas shews that it was probably earlier than 1403. The exact date would be very useful; for if it took place before 1399, it becomes difficult to understand why the poet was left so poor, whilst his son had vast possessions.

It should be noticed that there is but little to connect even Thomas Chaucer (still less Geoffrey) with Woodstock, until 1411; when the Queen (Joan of Navarre) granted Thomas the farm of the manors of Woodstock, Hanburgh, Wotton, and Stonfield, which, by the king's assignment, he enjoyed for life^[167]. That the poet visited Woodstock in 1357, when in the service of Prince Lionel, is almost certain; but beyond this, we have no sure information on the matter. It is true that 'Wodestok' is mentioned in the last line of the Cuckow and the Nightingale, but this supposed connecting link is at once broken, when we find that the said poem was certainly not of his writing^[168]. The suggested reference to Woodstock in the Parliament of Foules, l. 122, is discussed below, at p. 510.

The only child of Thomas and Matilda Chaucer was Alice, whose third husband was no less a person than William de la Pole, then Earl and afterwards Duke of Suffolk, who was beheaded in 1450. Their eldest son was John de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk, who married Elizabeth, sister of King Edward IV. Their eldest son bore the same name, and was not only created Earl of Lincoln, but was actually declared heir-apparent to the throne by Richard III; so that there was, at one time, a probability that Thomas Chaucer's great-grandson would succeed to the throne. But the battle of Bosworth, in 1485, set this arrangement aside; and the Earl of Lincoln was himself killed two years later, in the battle of Stoke.

§ 42. The relationship of Thomas to Geoffrey Chaucer. Considering the great eminence of these two men, the almost [l]total silence of early evidence, establishing a connexion between them, is in a high degree remarkable.

The earliest connecting link is the fact that a deed by Thomas Chaucer still exists, written (in English) at Ewelme, and dated May 20, 1409, to which a seal is appended. This seal exhibits the arms which were certainly borne by Thomas Chaucer (viz. party per pale, argent and gules, a bend counterchanged); but the legend, though somewhat indistinct, can only be read as: 'S' Ghofrai Chaucier^[169]'; where S' signifies 'Sigillum.'

The spelling 'Ghofrai' is hardly satisfactory; but if Geoffrey be really meant, we gain a piece of evidence of high importance. It proves that Geoffrey bore the same arms as Thomas, and not the same arms as his father John; whose seal displays a shield ermine, on a chief, three birds' heads issuant (The Academy, Oct. 13, 1877, p. 364). Moreover, the use of Geoffrey's seal by Thomas goes far to establish that the latter was the son of the former.

The next link is that Geoffrey Chaucer was succeeded by Thomas Chaucer in the office of forester of North Petherton in Somersetshire; but even here there is a gap in the succession, as Thomas was not appointed till 1416-7, the fourth year of Henry V.^[170]

It is not till the reign of Henry VI. that we at last obtain an unequivocal statement. Thomas Gascoigne, who died in 1458, wrote a Theological Dictionary, which still exists, in MS., in the Library of Lincoln College, Oxford. He tells us that Chaucer, in his last hours, frequently lamented the wickedness of his writings, though it is transparent that he here merely repeats, in a varied form, the general tenour of the well-known final paragraph of the Persones Tale. But he adds this important sentence: 'Fuit idem Chawserus pater Thomae Chawserus, armigeri, qui Thomas sepelitur in Nuhelm iuxta Oxoniam^[171].' The statement is the more important because Gascoigne ought to have known the [li]exact truth. He was Chancellor of Oxford, and Thomas Chaucer held the manor of Ewelme, at no great distance, at the same date. As he mentions Thomas's sepulture, he wrote later than 1434, yet before 1458. Even in the case of this decisive statement, it were to be wished that he had shewn greater accuracy in the context; surely he gives a quite unfair turn to the poet's own words.

On the whole, I can only admit at present, that there is a high probability that Thomas was really Geoffrey's son. Perhaps we shall some day know the certainty of the matter.

§ 43. Thomas's Mother. The chief reason why it is so desirable to know the exact truth as to the relationship of Thomas to Geoffrey, is that a good deal depends upon it. If such was the case, it follows that Philippa Chaucer was Thomas's mother; in which case, we may feel tolerably confident that her maiden name was Roet or Rouet. This has been inferred from the fact that the arms (apparently) of Roet 'occur repeatedly on Thomas Chaucer's tomb, as his paternal coat, instead of the arms usually attributed to him and to the poet.' These arms bore 'three wheels, evidently in allusion to the name^[172].' Having thus assigned to Philippa Chaucer the name of Roet, the next step (usually accepted, yet not absolutely proved) is to assume that she was the sister of the Katherine de Roet of Hainault^[173], who married Sir Hugh Swynford, and afterwards became the mistress, and, in 1396, the third wife of John of Gaunt. Her father is supposed to have been Sir Payne Roet, of Hainault, upon the evidence of his epitaph, which (in Weever's Funeral Monuments, p. 413) is thus given:—'Hic jacet Paganus Roet, Miles, Guyenne Rex Armorum, Pater Catherine Ducisse Lancastriae^[174].' It is obvious that, if all the inferences are correct, they clearly establish an important and close connexion between the poet and John of Gaunt. Further arguments, whether in favour of or against this connexion, need hardly be repeated here. They may be found [lii]in Nicolas's Life of Chaucer, and in Lounsbury's Studies in Chaucer, vol. i.

Thynne has the following remark in his Animadversions, &c. (ed. Furnivall, p. 22): 'Althoughe I fynde a recorde of the pellis exitus, in the tyme of Edwarde the thirde, of a yerely stypende to Elizabethe Chawcer, Domicelle regine Philippe, whiche Domicella dothe signyfye one of her weytinge gentlewomen: yet I cannott ... thinke this was his wyfe, but rather his sister or kinneswoman, who, after the deathe of her mystresse Quene Philippe, did forsake the worlde and became a nonne at Seinte Heleins in London.' And we find, accordingly (as Nicolas shews), that 'on July 27, 1377, the King exercised his right to nominate a Nun in the Priory of St. Helen's, London, after the coronation, in favour of Elizabeth Chausier.' Another Elizabeth Chaucy (who may have been the poet's daughter) is also noticed by Nicolas, for whose noviciate, in the Abbey of Berking in Essex, John of Gaunt paid 51l. 8s. 2d., on May 12, 1381. But these are mere matters for conjecture.

§ 44. The preceding sections include all the most material facts that have been ascertained with respect to Geoffrey Chaucer, and it is fortunate that, owing to his connexion with public business, they are so numerous and so authentic. At the same time, it will doubtless be considered that such dry details, however useful, tell us very little about the man himself; though they clearly shew the versatility of his talents, and exhibit him as a page, a soldier, a valet and esquire of the royal household, an envoy, a comptroller of customs, a clerk of works, and a member of Parliament. In the truest sense, his own works best exhibit his thoughts and character; though we must not always accept all his expressions as if they were all his own. We have to deal with a writer in whom the dramatic faculty was highly developed, and I prefer to leave the reader to draw his own inferences, even from those passages which are most relied upon to support the theory that his domestic life may have been unhappy, and others of the like kind. We can hardly doubt, for example, that he refers to his wife as 'oon that I coude nevene,' i. e. one that I could name, in the Hous of Fame, 562; and he plainly says that the eagle spoke something to him in a kindly tone, such as he never heard from his wife. But when we notice that the something said was the word 'awake,' in order that he should 'the bet abrayde,' i. e. the sooner recover from his dazed state, it is possible that [liii]a sentence which at first seems decidedly spiteful is no more than a mild and gentle jest.

§ 45. Personal allusions in Chaucer's Works. Instead of drawing my own inferences, which may easily be wrong, from various passages in Chaucer's Works, I prefer the humbler task of giving the more important references, from which the reader may perform the task for himself, to his greater satisfaction. I will only say that when a poet complains of hopeless love, or expresses his despair, or tells us (on the other hand) that he has no idea as to what love means, we are surely free to believe, in each case, just as little or as much as we please. It is a very sandy foundation on which to build up a serious autobiographical structure.

The only remark which I feel justified in making is, that I believe his wife's death to have been a serious loss to him in one respect at least. Most of his early works are reasonably free from coarseness; whereas such Tales as those of the Miller, the Reeve, the Shipman, the Merchant, and the Prologue to the Wife's Tale, can hardly be defended. All these may confidently be dated after the year 1387.

I have also to add one caution. We must not draw inferences as to Chaucer's life from poems or works with which he had nothing to do. Even Sir H. Nicolas, with all his carefulness, has not avoided this. He quotes the 'Cuckoo and Nightingale' as mentioning Woodstock; and he only distrusts the 'Testament of Love' because it is 'an allegorical composition^[175].' As to the numerous fables that have been imported into the early Lives of Chaucer, see the excellent chapter in Lounsbury's Studies in Chaucer, entitled 'The Chaucer Legend.'

§ 46. References. I here use the following abbreviations. [liv]Ast. (Treatise on the Astrolabe); B. D. (Book of the Duchesse); C. T. (Canterbury Tales); H. F. (Hous of Fame); L. G. W. (Legend of Good Women); T. (Troilus and Criseyde).

1. Personal Allusions. The poet's name is Geffrey, H. F. 729; and his surname, Chaucer, C. T., B 47. He describes himself, C. T., B 1886; Envoy to Scogan, 31. His poverty, H. F. 1349; Envoy to Scogan, 45; Compl. to his Purse. Refers to the sale of wine (his father being a vintner), C. T., C 564. Is despondent in love, Compl. unto Pity; B. D. 1-43; T. i. 15-18. His Complaints, viz. unto Pity; to his Lady; and an Amorous Complaint. Has long served Cupid and Venus; H. F. 616. Is no longer a lover, P. F. 158-166; H. F. 639; T. ii. 19-21; L. G. W. 490. Is love's clerk, T. iii. 41. Is love's foe, L. G. W. 323. His misery, H. F. 2012-8. His religious feeling, A. B. C., Second Nun's Tale, Prioress's Tale, &c. Refers to his work when Comptroller of the Customs, H. F. 652. Is unambitious of fame, H. F. 1870-900; and has but little in his head, ib. 621. Is sometimes a mere compiler, Ast. prol. 43. Addresses his little son Lowis, Ast. prol. 1-45^[176]. Expresses his gratitude to the queen, L. G. W. 84-96, 445-461, 496. His old age, L. G. W., A 262, A 315; Envoy to Scogan, 31-42; Compl. of Venus, 76^[177]. He will not marry a second time, Envoy to Bukton, 8. He exhibits his knowledge of the Northern dialect in the Reeve's Tale. The whole of the Prologue to the Legend of Good Women deserves particular attention.

Chaucer mentions several friends, viz. Gower the poet, T. v. 1856; Strode, T. v. 1857 (cf. the colophon to Ast. pt. ii. § 40); and a lady named Rosemounde, in the Balade addressed to her. He also addresses Envoys to Henry Scogan and to Bukton. The Envoy to the Compleint to his Purse is addressed to king Henry IV.

He is fond of books and of reading, P. F. 15; H. F. 657; L. G. W. 17-35; and even reads in bed, B. D. 50, 274, 1326. [lv]For a full account of the books which he quotes, see vol. vi. I may just notice here the lists in C. T., B 2088; L. G. W., A 272-307; and his references to his own works in L. G. W. 329, 332, 417-28; C. T., B 57-76; C. T., I 1086^[178]. His love of nature appears in several excellent descriptions; we may particularly notice his lines upon the sunrise, C. T., A 1491, F 385; on the golden-tressed Phoebus, T. v. 8; on the daisy, L. G. W. 41; his description of the birds, P. F. 330; of a blooming garden, P. F. 182; of the golden age, The Former Age; of fine weather for hunting, B. D. 336, and of the chase itself, B. D. 360, L. G. W. 1188. He frequently mentions the fair month of May, L. G. W. 36, 45, 108, 176, T. ii. 50, C. T. A 1500, 1510; and St. Valentine's day, Compl. of Mars, 13; P. F. 309, 322, 386, 683; Amorous Compleint, 85.

He was our first great metrist, and has frequent references to his poetical art. He never slept on Parnassus, C. T., F 721; and the Host (in the C. T.) even accused him of writing 'dogerel,' B 2115. He cannot write alliterative verse, C. T., I 43. He admits that his rime is 'light and lewed,' and that some lines fail in a syllable, H. F., 1096-8. Yet he hopes that none will 'mismetre' him, T. v. 1796. He writes books, songs, and ditties in rime or 'cadence,' H. F. 622; also hymns, balades, roundels, and virelays, L. G. W. 422; and complaints, such as the Complaint to Pity, to his Lady, to his Purse, the Complaints of Mars, Anelida, and Venus, and the Complaint D'amours (or Amorous Complaint). Specimens of his graphic and dramatic power, of his skill in story and metre, of his tenderness and his humour, need not be here specified. He is fond of astronomy, as shewn by his Treatise on the Astrolabe; and, though he has but little faith in astrology (Ast. ii. 4. 37), he frequently refers to it as well as to astronomy; see B. D. 1206; Compl. Mars, 29, 54, 69, 79, 86, 113, 120, 129, 139, 145; P. F., 56, 59, 67, 117; Envoy to Scogan, 3, 9; H. F. 932, 936, 965, 993-1017; T. ii. 50, iii. 2, 618, 625, 716, iv. 1592, v. 1809; L. G. W. 113, 2223, 2585-99; C. T., A 7, 1087, 1328, 1463, 1537, 1566, 1850, 2021, 2035, 2059, 2217, 2271, 2367, 2454-69, 3192, 3209, 3516; B 1-14, 191, [lvi]308, 312, 4045-8, 4378-89; D 613, 704; E 1795, 1969, 2132, 2222; F 47-51, 263-5, 386, 906, 1032-5, 1045-59, 1130, 1245-9, 1261-6, 1273-96; I 2-12. Even his alchemy has some reference to astrology; C. T., G 826-9; cf. H. F. 1430-1512.

He refers to optics, C. T., F 228-235; to Boethius on music, C. T., B 4484, H. F. 788-818; and to magical arts, H. F. 1259-81, C. T., F 115, 132, 146, 156, 219, 250, 1142-51, 1157-62, 1189-1208.

2. Historical Allusions. The references to contemporary history are but few. The death of the Lady Blaunche is commemorated in the Book of the Duchesse. He refers to good queen Anne, L. G. W. 255, 275, 496; to the archbishop of Canterbury, C. T., B 4635; to 'this pestilence,' C 679; to Tyler's rebellion, A 2459; and Jack Straw, B 4584. Perhaps the Complaints of Mars and Venus refer to real personages; see the Notes to those poems. He mentions Dante, H. F. 450, L. G. W. 360, C. T. B 3651, D 1126; Petrarch, C. T., E 31, 1147; Pedro the Cruel, king of Spain, C. T., B 3565, Bertrand du Gueschlin, 3573, and Sir Oliver Mauny, 3576; Peter, king of Cyprus, 3581; Bernabo Visconti, duke of Milan, 3589, and the 'tyrants' of Lombardy, L. G. W. 374; Ugolino of Pisa and the archbishop Ruggieri, C. T., B 3597, 3606. There are several allusions to recent events in the Prologue, A 51-66, 86, 276, 399; and perhaps in C. T., E 995-1001.

His literary allusions are too numerous to be here recited. The reader can consult the Index in vol. vi.

§ 47. Allusions to Chaucer. One of the earliest allusions to Chaucer as a poet occurs in the works of Eustache Deschamps, a contemporary poet of France. It is remarkable that he chiefly praises him as being 'a great translator.' Perhaps this was before his longest poems were written; there is express reference to his translation of Le Roman de la Rose, and, possibly, to Boethius. The poem tells us that Deschamps had sent Chaucer a copy of some of his poems by a friend named Clifford, and he hopes to receive something of Chaucer's in return. The poem is here quoted entire, from the edition of Deschamps by le Marquis de Queux de Saint-Hilaire, published for the Société des Anciens Textes Français, t. ii. p. 138:—

Gower alludes to Chaucer in the first edition of the Confessio Amantis; see the passage discussed in vol. iii. p. 414.

Henry Scogan wrote 'a moral balade' in twenty-one 8-line stanzas, in which he not only refers to Chaucer's poetical skill, but quotes the whole of his Balade on Gentilesse; see vol. i. p. 83.

Hoccleve frequently refers to Chaucer as his 'maister,' i. e. his teacher, with great affection; and, if he learnt but little more, he certainly learnt the true method of scansion of his master's lines, [lviii]and imitates his metres and rimes with great exactness. The passages relating to Chaucer are as follows^[179].

(1) From the Governail of Princes, or De Regimine Principum (ed. Wright, p. 67, st. 267):—

Here is given, in the margin of the MS., the famous portrait of Chaucer which is believed to be the best, and probably the only one that can be accepted as authentic. A copy of it is prefixed to the present volume, and to Furnivall's Trial-Forewords, Chaucer Soc., 1871; and an enlarged copy accompanies the Life-Records of Chaucer, part 2. It is thus described by Sir H. Nicolas:—'The figure, which is half-length, has a back-ground of green [lx]tapestry. He is represented with grey hair and beard, which is biforked; he wears a dark-coloured dress and hood; his right hand is extended, and in his left he holds a string of beads. From his vest a black case is suspended, which appears to contain a knife, or possibly a 'penner,' or pen-case^[183]. The expression of the countenance is intelligent; but the fire of the eye seems quenched, and evident marks of advanced age appear on the countenance.' Hoccleve did not paint this portrait himself, as is often erroneously said; he 'leet do make it,' i. e. had it made. It thus became the business of the scribe, and the portraits in different copies of Hoccleve's works vary accordingly. There is a full-length portrait in MS. Reg. 17 D. vi, marked as 'Chaucers ymage'; and another in a MS. copy once in the possession of Mr. Tyson, which was engraved in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1792, vol. lxii. p. 614; perhaps the latter is the copy which is now MS. Phillipps 1099. A representation of Chaucer on horseback, as one of the pilgrims, occurs in the Ellesmere MS.; an engraving of it appears as a frontispiece to Todd's Illustrations of Chaucer. A small full-length picture of Chaucer occurs in the initial letter of the Canterbury Tales, in MS. Lansdowne 851. Other portraits, such as that in MS. Addit. (or Sloane) 5141, the painting upon wood in the Bodleian Library, and the like, are of much later date, and cannot pretend to any authenticity.

Lydgate has frequent references to his 'maister Chaucer.' The most important is that in the Prologue to his Fall of Princes, which begins thus:—

The 'fall of princes' refers to the Monkes Tale, as explained in vol. iii. p. 431. He next refers to 'Troilus' as being a translation of a book 'which called is Trophe' (see vol. ii. p. liv.); and to the Translation of Boethius and the Treatise of the Astrolabe. [lxi]He then mentions many of the Minor Poems (in the stanzas quoted below, p. 23), the Legend of Good Women (see vol. iii. p. xx.), and the Canterbury Tales; and concludes thus:—

Similar passages occur in some of his other works, and shew that he regarded Chaucer with affectionate reverence.

Allusions in later authors have only a literary value, and need not be cited in a Life of Chaucer.

I subjoin (on p. lxii.) a List of Chaucer's genuine works, arranged, as nearly as I can conjecture, in their chronological order. Of his poetical excellence it is superfluous to speak; Lowell's essay on 'Chaucer' in My Study Windows gives a just estimate of his powers. [lxii]

The following list is arranged, conjecturally, in chronological order. It will be understood that much of the arrangement and some of the dates are due to guesswork; on a few points scholars are agreed. See further in pp. 20-91 below, &c. Of the Poems marked (a), there seem to have been two editions, (a) being the earlier. The letters and numbers appended at the end denote the metres, according to the following scheme.

A = octosyllabic metre; B = ballad metre, in Sir Thopas; C = 4-line stanza, in the Proverbes; P = Prose.

The following sixteen metres are original (i. e. in English); viz. 1 = 8-line stanza, ababbcbc; 1 b = the same, thrice, with refrain. 2 = 7-line stanza, ababbcc; 2 b = the same, thrice, with refrain; 2 c = 7-line stanza, ababbab. 3 = terza rima. 4 = 10-line stanza, aabaabcddc. 5 = 9-line stanza, aabaabbab; 5 b = the same, with internal rimes. 6 = virelai of 16 lines. 7 = 9-line stanza, aabaabbcc. 8 = roundel. 9 = heroic couplet. 10 = 6-line stanza, ababcb, repeated six times. 11 = 10-line stanza, aabaabbaab. 12 = 5-line stanza, aabba.

^*_*^* C. T. = Canterbury Tales; L. G. W. = Legend of Good Women; M. P. = Minor Poems.

The following occasional triple roundel and balades may have been composed between 1380 and 1396:—

§ 1. In the Third Edition of my volume of Chaucer Selections, containing the Prioress's Tale, &c., published by the Clarendon Press in 1880, I included an essay to shew 'why the Romaunt of the Rose is not Chaucer's,' meaning thereby the particular English version of Le Roman de la Rose which happens to be preserved. I have since seen reason to modify this opinion as regards a comparatively short portion of it at the beginning (here printed in large type), but the arguments then put forward remain as valid as ever as regards the main part of it (here printed in smaller type, and in double columns). Some of these arguments had been previously put forward by me in a letter to the Academy, Aug. 10, 1878, p. 143. I ought to add that the chief of them are not original, but borrowed from Mr. Henry Bradshaw, whose profound knowledge of all matters relating to Chaucer has been acknowledged by all students.

§ 2. That Chaucer translated the French poem called Le Roman de la Rose, or at least some part of it^[185], no one doubts; for he tells us so himself in the Prologue of his Legend of Good Women (A 255, B 329), and the very frequent references to it, in many of his poems, shew that many parts of it were familiarly known to him. Nevertheless, it does not follow that the particular version of it which happens to be preserved, is the very one which he made; for it was a poem familiar to many others besides him, and it is [2]extremely probable that Middle English versions of it were numerous. In fact, it will presently appear that the English version printed in this volume actually consists of three separate fragments, all by different hands.

The English version, which I shall here, for brevity, call 'the translation,' has far less claim to be considered as Chaucer's than unthinking people imagine. Modern readers find it included in many editions of his Works, and fancy that such a fact is conclusive; but it is the merest prudence to enquire how it came there. The answer is, that it first appeared in Thynne's edition of 1532, a collection of Chaucer's (supposed) works made more than a hundred and thirty years after his death. Such an attribution is obviously valueless; we must examine the matter for ourselves, and on independent grounds.

§ 3. A critical examination of the internal evidence at once shews that by far the larger part of 'the translation' cannot possibly be Chaucer's; for the language of it contradicts most of his habits, and presents peculiarities such as we never find in his genuine poems. I shewed this in my 'Essay' by the use of several unfailing tests, the nature of which I shall explain presently. The only weak point in my argument was, that I then considered 'the translation' as being the production of one author, and thought it sufficient to draw my examples (as I unconsciously, for the most part, did) from the central portion of the whole.

§ 4. The next step in this investigation was made by Dr. Lindner. In a painstaking article printed in Englische Studien, xi. 163, he made it appear highly probable that at least two fragments of 'the translation' are by different hands. That there are two fragments, at least, is easily discerned; for after l. 5810 there is a great gap, equivalent to an omission of more than 5000 lines.

§ 5. Still more recently, Dr. Max Kaluza has pointed out that there is another distinct break in the poem near l. 1700. The style of translation, not to speak of its accuracy, is much better in the first 1700 lines than in the subsequent portions. We may notice, in particular, that the French word boutons is translated by knoppes in ll. 1675, 1683, 1685, 1691, 1702, whilst, in l. 1721 and subsequent passages, the same word is merely Englished by botoun or botouns. A closer study of the passage extending from l. 1702 to l. 1721 shews that there is a very marked break at the end of l. 1705. Here the French text has (ed. Méon, l. 1676):— [3]

It will be observed that the sentence in the two former lines is incomplete; dide is a mere auxiliary verb, and the real verb of the sentence is lost; whilst the two latter lines lead off with a new sentence altogether. It is still more interesting to observe that, at this very point, we come upon a false rime. The word aboute was then pronounced (abuu·tə), where (uu) denotes the sound of ou in soup, and (ə) denotes an obscure vowel, like the a in China. But the vowel o in swote was then pronounced like the German o in G. so (nearly E. o in so), so that it was quite unlike the M.E. ou; and the rime is no better than if we were to rime the mod. E. boot with the mod. E. goat. It is clear that there has been a join here, and a rather clumsy one. The supply of 'copy' of the first translation ran short, perhaps because the rest of it had been torn away and lost, and the missing matter was supplied from some other source. We thus obtain, as the result to be tested, the following arrangement:—

It should be noted, further, that l. 7698 by no means reaches to the end. It merely corresponds to l. 12564 of the French text, leaving 9510 lines untouched towards the end, besides the gap of 5547 lines between Fragments B and C. In fact, the three fragments, conjointly, only represent 7018 lines of the original, leaving 15056 lines (more than double that number) wholly untranslated.

Test I.—Proportion of English to French.—As regards these fragments, one thing strikes us at once, viz. the much greater diffuseness of the translation in fragment B, as may be seen from the following table:— [4]

Thus, in A and C, the translation runs nearly line for line; but in B, the translator employs, on an average, 11 lines and three-quarters for every 10 of the original.

§ 7. Test II.—Dialect.—But the striking characteristic of Fragment B is the use in it of a Northern dialect. That this is due to the author, and not merely to the scribe, is obvious from the employment of Northern forms in rimes, where any change would destroy the rime altogether. This may be called the Dialect-test. Examples abound, and I only mention some of the most striking.

1. Use of the Northern pres. part. in -and. In l. 2263, we have wel sittand (for wel sitting), riming with hand. In l. 2708, we have wel doand (for wel doing), riming with fand. Even fand is a Northern form. Chaucer uses fond, riming with hond (Cant. Ta. A 4116, 4221, &c.), lond (A 702, &c.); cf. the subj. form fond-e, riming with hond-e, lond-e, bond-e (B 3521).

2. In l. 1853, we have the rimes thar, mar (though miswritten thore, more in MS. G.), where the Chaucerian forms there, more, would not rime at all. These are well-known Northern forms, as in Barbour's Bruce. So again, in l. 2215, we find mar, ar (though mar is written as more in MS. G.). In l. 2397, we find stat, hat; where hat is the Northern form of Chaucer's hoot, adj., 'hot.' So also, in 5399, we have North. wat instead of Ch. wot or woot, riming with estat. In l. 5542, we find the Northern certis (in place of Chaucer's certes), riming with is.

3. Chaucer (or his scribes) admit the use of the Northern til, in place of the Southern to, very sparingly; it occurs, e.g. in Cant. Ta. A 1478, before a vowel. But it never occurs after its case, nor at the end of a line. Yet, in fragment B, we twice find him til used finally, 4594, 4852.

4. The use of ado (for at do), in the sense of 'to do,' is also Northern; see the New E. Dict. It occurs in l. 5080, riming with go.

5. The dropping of the inflexional e, in the infin. mood or gerund, is also Northern. In fragment B, this is very common; as examples, take the rimes lyf, dryf, 1873; feet, lete (= leet), 1981; sit, flit, 2371; may, convay, 2427; may, assay, 2453; set, get, 2615; spring, thing, 2627; ly, by, 2629; ly, erly, 2645; &c. The Chaucerian [5]forms are dryv-e, let-e, flit-te, convey-e, assay-e, get-e, spring-e, ly-e. That the Northern forms are not due to the scribe, is obvious; for he usually avoids them where he can. Thus in l. 2309, he writes sitting instead of sittand; but in l. 2263, he could not avoid the form sittand, because of the rime.

§ 8. Test III.—The riming of -y with -y-ë.—With two intentional exceptions (both in the ballad metre of Sir Thopas, see note to Cant. Ta. B 2092), Chaucer never allows such a word as trewely (which etymologically ends in -y) to rime with French substantives in -y-ë, such as fol-y-ë, Ielos-y-ë (Ital. follia, gelosia). But in fragment B, examples abound; e. g. I, malady(e)^[186], 1849; hastily, company(e), 1861; generally, vilany(e), 2179; worthy, curtesy(e), 2209; foly(e), by, 2493, 2521; curtesy(e), gladly, 2985; foly(e), utterly, 3171; foly(e), hastily, 3241; and many more.

This famous test, first proposed by Mr. Bradshaw, is a very simple but effective one; it separates the spurious from the genuine works of Chaucer with ease and certainty in all but a few cases, viz. cases wherein a spurious poem happens to satisfy the test; and these are rare indeed.

§ 9. Test IV.—Assonant rimes. Those who know nothing about the pronunciation of Middle English, and require an easy test, appreciable by any child who has a good ear, may observe this. Chaucer does not employ mere assonances, i. e. rimes in which only the vowel-sounds correspond. He does not rime take with shape, nor fame with lane. But the author of fragment B had no ear for this. He actually has such rimes as these: kepe, eke, 2125; shape, make, 2259; escape, make, 2753; take, scape, 3165; storm, corn, 4343; doun, tourn, 5469.

Other strange rimes.—Other rimes which occur here, but not in Chaucer, are these and others like them: aboute, swote, 1705 (already noticed); desyre, nere, 1785, 2441; thar (Ch. there), to-shar, 1857; Ioynt, queynt^[187], 2037; soon (Ch. son-e), doon, 2377; abrede, forweried, 2563; anney (Ch. annoy), awey, 2675; desyre, manere, 2779; Ioye, convoye (Ch. conveye), 2915, &c. It is needless to multiply instances. [6]

§ 10. It would be easy to employ further tests; we might, for example, make a minute critical examination of the method in which the final -e is grammatically employed. But the results are always the same. We shall always find irrefragable proof that fragment B exhibits usages far different from those which occur in the undoubted works of Chaucer, and cannot possibly have proceeded from his pen. Repeated investigations, made by me during the past thirteen years, have always come round to this result, and it is not possible for future criticism to alter it.

Hence our first result is this. Fragment B, consisting of ll. 1706-5810 (4105 lines), containing more than fragments A and C together, and therefore more than half of 'the translation,' is not Chaucer's, but was composed by an author who, to say the least, frequently employed Northern English forms and phrases. Moreover, his translation is too diffuse; and, though spirited, it is not always accurate.

I shall now speak of fragment C. The first noticeable point about it is, that it does not exhibit many of the peculiarities of B. There is nothing to indicate, with any certainty, a Northern origin, nor to connect it with B. In fact, we may readily conclude that B and C are by different authors. The sole question that remains, as far as we are now concerned, is this. Can we attribute it to Chaucer?

The answer, in this case, is not quite so easily given, because the differences between it and Chaucer's genuine works are less glaring and obvious than in the case above. Nevertheless, we at once find some good reasons for refraining to attribute it to our author.

§ 12. Rime-tests.—If, for instance, we apply the simple but effective test of the rimes of words ending in -y with those ending in -y-e, we at once find that this fragment fails to satisfy the text.

Examples: covertly, Ipocrisy(e), 6112; company(e), outerly, 6301; loteby, company(e), 6339; why, tregetry(e), 6373; company(e), I, 6875; mekely, trechery(e), 7319. These six instances, in less than 1900 lines, ought to make us hesitate.

If we look a little more closely, we find other indications which should make us hesitate still more. At l. 5919, we find hors (horse) riming with wors (worse); but Chaucer rimes wors with curs (Cant. Ta. [7]A 4349), and with pervers (Book Duch. 813). At l. 6045, we find fare, are; but Chaucer never uses are at the end of a line; he always uses been. At l. 6105, we find atte last, agast; but Chaucer only has atte last-e (which is never monosyllabic). At l. 6429, we find paci-ence, venge-aunce, a false rime which it would be libellous to attribute to Chaucer; and, at l. 6469, we find force, croce, which is still worse, and makes it doubtful whether it is worth while to go on. However, if we go a little further, we find the pl. form wrought riming with nought, 6565; but Chaucer usually has wrought-e, which would destroy the rime. This, however, is not decisive, since Chaucer has bisought for bisoughte, Cant. Ta. A. 4117, and brought for broughte, id. F. 1273. But when, at l. 6679, we find preched riming with teched, we feel at once that this is nothing in which Chaucer had a hand, for he certainly uses the form taughte (Prologue, 497), and as certainly does not invent such a form as praughte to rime with it. Another unpleasant feature is the use of the form Abstinaunce in l. 7483, to gain a rime to penaunce, whilst in l. 7505, only 22 lines lower down, we find Abstinence, to rime with sentence; but the original has similar variations.

§ 13. I will just mention, in conclusion, one more peculiarity to be found in fragment C. In the Cant. Tales, B 480 (and elsewhere), Chaucer uses such rimes as clerkes, derk is, and the like; but not very frequently. The author of fragment C was evidently much taken with this peculiarity, and gives us plenty of examples of it. Such are: requestis, honést is, 6039; places, place is, 6119; nede is, dedis, 6659; apert is, certis, 6799; chaieris, dere is, 6915; enquestes, honést is, 6977; prophetis, prophete is, 7093; ypocritis, spite is, 7253. Here are eight instances in less than 1900 lines. However, there are five examples (at ll. 19, 75, 387, 621, 1349) in the Hous of Fame, which contains 2158 lines in the same metre as our 'translation'; and there are 19 instances in the Cant. Tales.

We should also notice that the character called Bialacoil throughout Fragment B is invariably called Fair-Welcoming in C.

We should also remark how Dr. Lindner (Engl. Studien, xi. 172) came to the conclusion that Chaucer certainly never wrote fragment C. As to the rest he doubted, and with some reason; for he had not before him the idea of splitting lines 1-5810 into two fragments.

§ 14. A consideration of the above-mentioned facts, and of others similar to them, leads us to our second result, which is this. Fragment C, containing 1888 lines, and corresponding to ll. [8]12564 of the French original, is neither by the author of fragment B, nor by Chaucer, but is not so glaringly unlike Chaucer's work as in the case of fragment B.

It remains to consider fragment A. The first test to apply is that of rimes in -y and -y-e; and, when we remember how indiscriminately these are used in fragments B and C, it is at least instructive to observe the perfect regularity with which they are employed in fragment A. The student who is unacquainted with the subtle distinctions which this test introduces, and who probably is, on that account, predisposed to ignore it, may learn something new by the mere perusal of the examples here given.

1. Words that should, etymologically, end in -y (and not in -y-e) are here found riming together, and never rime with a word of the other class.

Examples: covertly, openly, 19; redily, erly, 93; by, I, 111; bisily, redily, 143; by, I, 163; I, by, 207; povrely, courtepy^[188], 219; beggarly, by, 223; enemy, hardily, 269; awry^[189], baggingly, 291; certeinly, tenderly, 331; prively, sikerly, 371; redily, by, 379; Pope-holy, prively, 415; I, openly, 501; queyntely, fetisly, 569; fetisly, richely, 577; only, uncouthly, 583; I, namely, 595; sikerly, erthely, 647; lustily, semely, 747; parfitly, sotilly, 771; queyntely, prively, 783; fetisly, richely, 837; sotilly, I, 1119; enemy^[190], tristely, 1165; sotilly, therby, 1183; newely, by, 1205; fetisly, trewely, 1235; I, by, 1273; trewely, comunly, 1307; lustily, sikerly, 1319; merily, hastely, 1329; I, sikerly, 1549; I, craftely, 1567; openly, therby, 1585; diversely, verily, 1629; openly, by, 1637. Thirty-eight examples.

We here notice how frequently words in -ly rime together; but this peculiarity is Chaucerian; cf. semely, fetisly, C. T. prol. A 123, &c.

2. Words that, etymologically, should end in -y-e, rime together. These are of two sorts: (a) French substantives; and (b) words in -y, with an inflexional -e added.

Examples: (a) felony-e, vilany-e, 165; envy-e, masonry-e, 301; [9]company-e, curtesy-e, 639; melody-e, reverdy-e, 719; curtesy-e, company-e, 957; vilany-e, felony-e, 977; envy-e, company-e, 1069; chivalry-e, maistry-e, 1207; villany-e, sukkeny-e, 1231; envye, Pavie, 1653.

(a) and (b) mixed: melody-e, F. sb., dy-e, infin. mood, 675; espy-e, gerund, curtesy-e, F. sb., 795; hy-e, dat. adj., maistry-e, 841; dy-e, gerund, flatery-e, F. sb., 1063; curtesy-e, F. sb., hy-e, dat. case, pl. adj., 1251; dy-e, infin. mood, remedy-e, F. sb., 1479. Seventeen examples. (In all, fifty-five examples.)

Thus, in more than fifty cases, the Chaucerian habit is maintained, and there is no instance to the contrary. Even the least trained reader may now fairly begin to believe that there is some value in this proposed test, and may see one reason for supposing that fragment A may be genuine.

§ 16. A still closer examination of other rimes tends to confirm this. There are no Northern forms (as in B), no merely assonant rimes (as in B), nor any false or bad or un-Chaucerian rimes (as in both B and C), except such as can be accounted for. The last remark refers to the fact that the scribe or the printer of Thynne's edition frequently misspells words so as to obscure the rime, whereas they rime perfectly when properly spelt; a fact which tells remarkably in favour of the possible genuineness of the fragment. Thus, at l. 29, Thynne prints befal, and at l. 30, al. Both forms are wrong; read befalle, alle. Here Thynne has, however, preserved the rime by making a double mistake; as in several other places. A more important instance is at l. 249, where the Glasgow MS. has farede, herede, a bad rime; but Thynne correctly has ferde, herde, as in Chaucer, Cant. Ta. A 1371. So again, at ll. 499, 673, where the Glasgow MS. is right (except in putting herd for herde in l. 673).

At l. 505, there is a false rime; but it is clearly due to a misreading, as explained in the notes. A similar difficulty, at l. 1341, is explicable in the same way.

§ 17. So far, there is no reason why fragment A may not be Chaucer's; and the more closely we examine it, the more probable does this supposition become. Dr. Kaluza has noticed, for instance, that the style of translation in fragment A is distinctly better, clearer, and more accurate than in fragment B. I find also another significant fact, viz. that in my essay written to shew that 'the translation' is not Chaucer's (written at a time when I unfortunately [10]regarded the whole translation as being the work of one writer, a position which is no longer tenable), nearly all my arguments were drawn from certain peculiarities contained in fragments B and C, especially the former. I have therefore nothing, of any consequence, to retract; nor do I even now find that I made any serious mistake.

§ 18. The third result may, accordingly, be arrived at thus. Seeing that Chaucer really translated the 'Roman de la Rose,' and that three fragments of English translations have come down to us, of which two cannot be his, whilst the third may be, we may provisionally accept fragment A as genuine; and we find that, the more closely we examine it, the more probable does its genuineness become.

§ 19. Summary.—Having now discussed the three fragments A, B, C, successively and separately (though in a different order), we may conveniently sum up the three results as follows.

1. Fragment A appears to be a real portion of Chaucer's own translation. Its occurrence, at the beginning, is, after all, just what we should expect. The scribe or editor would naturally follow it as far as it was extant; and when it failed, would as naturally piece it out with any other translation or translations to which he could gain access. This fragment ceases suddenly, at the end of l. 1705, in the middle of an incomplete sentence. The junction with the succeeding portion is clumsily managed, for it falsely assumes that the previous sentence is complete, and leads off with a false rime.

2. Fragment B is obviously from some other source, and is at once dissociated from both the other fragments by the facts (a) that it was originally written in a Northumbrian dialect, though this is somewhat concealed by the manipulation of the spelling by a later scribe; (b) that it was written in a more diffuse style, the matter being expanded to the extent, on an average, of nearly twelve lines to ten; (c) that many licences appear in the rimes, which sometimes degenerate into mere assonances; and (d) that it is less exact and less correct in its method of rendering the original.

3. After fragment B, there is a large gap in the story, more than 5000 lines of the original being missing. Hence Fragment C is from yet a third source, not much of which seems to have been accessible. It neither joins on to Fragment B, nor carries the story much further; and it comes to an end somewhat suddenly, at a point more than 9000 lines from the end of the original. It is, [11]however, both more correct than Fragment B, and more in Chaucer's style; though, at the same time, I cannot accept it as his.

§ 20. There is little that is surprising in this result. That translations of this then famous and popular French poem should have been attempted by many hands, is just what we should expect. At the same time, the enormous length of the original may very well have deterred even the most persevering of the translators from ever arriving at the far end of it. Chaucer's translation was evidently the work of his younger years, and the frequent use which he made of the French poem in his later works may have made him careless of his own version, if indeed he ever finished it, which may be doubted. All this, however, is mere speculation, and all that concerns us now is the net result. It is clear, that, in the 1705 lines here printed in the larger type, we have recovered all of Chaucer's work that we can ever hope to recover. With this we must needs rest satisfied, and it is a great gain to have even so much of it; the more so, when we remember how much reason there was to fear that the whole of Chaucer's work was lost. It was not until Dr. Kaluza happily hit upon the resolution of lines 1-5810 into two fragments, that Chaucer's portion was at last discovered.

In what has preceded, we have drawn our conclusions from the most helpful form of evidence—the internal evidence. It remains to look at the external form of the poem, and to enquire how it has come down to us.

The apparent sources are two, viz. Thynne's edition of 1532 (reprinted in 1542, 1550, 1561, and at later dates), and a MS. in the Hunterian collection at Glasgow. But a very slight examination shews that these are nearly duplicate copies, both borrowed from one and the same original, which is now no longer extant. I shall denote these sources, for convenience, by the symbols Th., G., and O., meaning, respectively, Thynne, Glasgow MS., and the (lost) Original.

The resemblance of Th. and G. is very close; however, each sometimes corrects small faults in the other, and the collation of them is, on this account, frequently helpful. Both are remarkable for an extraordinary misarrangement of the material, in which respect they closely agree; and we are enabled, from this [12]circumstance, to say, definitely, that the C-portion of O. (i. e. their common original) was written (doubtless on vellum) in quires containing 8 leaves (or 16 pages) each, there being, on an average, 24 lines upon every page. Of these quires, the fourth had its leaves transposed, by mistake, when the MS. was bound, in such a manner that the middle pair of leaves of this quire was displaced, so as to come next the two outer pair of leaves; and this displacement was never suspected till of late years, nor ever (so far as I am aware^[191]) fully appreciated and explained till now^[192]. This displacement of the material was first noticed in Bell's edition, where the editor found it out by the simple process of comparing the English 'translation' with the French 'Roman'; but he gives no account of how it came about. But a closer investigation is useful as showing how exactly 'Th.' and 'G.' agree in following an original displacement in 'O.', or rather in the still older MS. from which the C-portion of O. was copied.

In the fourth sheet (as said above), the pair of middle leaves, containing its 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th pages (G, H, I, K, with the contents recorded in note 2 below) was subtracted from the middle of the quire, and placed so that the 7th page (G) followed the 2nd (B), whilst at the same time, the 10th page (K) came to precede the 15th page (P). The resulting order of pages was, necessarily, A, B, G, H, C, D, E, F, L, M, N, O, I, K, P, Q; as is easily seen by help of a small paper model. And the resulting order of the lines was, accordingly, 6965-6988, 6989-7012, 7109-7133, 7134-7158, 7013-7036, 7037-60, 7061-84, 7085-7108, 7209-7232, 7233-7256, 7257-7280, 7281-7304, 7159-7183, 7184-7208, 7305-7328, 7329-7352; or, collecting the successive numbers, ... -7012, 7109-7158, 7013-7108, 7209-7304, 7159-7208, 7305, &c. And this is precisely the order found, both in Th. and G. [13]

We see further that the fourth and last quire of this C-portion of O. consisted of 7 leaves only, the rest being torn away. For 7 leaves containing 48 lines apiece give a total of 336 lines, which, added to 7352, make up 7688 lines; and, as 10 of the pages seem to have had 25 lines, we thus obtain 7698 lines as the number found in O.

The A-portion of O. was probably copied from a MS. containing usually 25 lines on a page, and occasionally 26. Four quires at 50 lines to the leaf give 32 × 50, or 1600 lines; and 2 leaves more give 100 lines, or 1700 lines in all. If 5 of the pages had 26 lines, we should thus make up the number, viz. 1705. Of the B-portion we can tell nothing, as we do not know how it was made to join on.

As O. was necessarily older than G., and G. is judged by experts^[193] to be hardly later than 1440, it is probable that O. was written out not much later than 1430; we cannot say how much earlier, if earlier it was.

§ 22. G. (the Glasgow MS.) is a well-written MS., on vellum; the size of each page being about 11 inches by 7½, with wide margins, especially at the bottom. Each page contains about 24 lines, and each quire contains 8 leaves. The first quire is imperfect, the 1st leaf (ll. 1-44) and the 8th (ll. 333-380) being lost. Nine other leaves are also lost, containing ll. 1387-1482, 2395-2442, 3595-3690, and 7385-7576; for the contents of which (as of the former two) Th. remains the sole authority. The date of the MS. is about 1440; and its class-mark is V. 3. 7.

It begins at l. 45—'So mochel pris,' &c. At the top of the first extant leaf is the name of Thomas Griggs, a former owner. On a slip of parchment at the beginning is a note by A. Askew (from whom Hunter bought the MS.) to this effect:—'Tho. Martinus. Ex dono dom' Iacobi Sturgeon de Bury scī Edmundi in agro Suffolc: Artis Chirurgicæ Periti. Nov. 9, 1720.' It ends very abruptly in the following manner:—

The third of these lines is incorrect, and the fourth is corrupt and imperfect; moreover, Thynne's copy gives four more lines after them. It would thus appear that G. was copied from O. at a later period than the MS. used by Thynne and now lost, viz. at a period when O. was somewhat damaged or torn at the end of its last page. A careful and exact copy of this MS. is now (in 1891) being printed for the Chaucer Society, edited by Dr. Kaluza.

§ 23. Th.—The version printed in Thynne's edition, 1532, and reprinted in 1542, 1550, 1561, &c. The first four editions, at least, are very much alike. The particular edition at first used by me for constructing the present text is that which I call the edition of 1550. (It is really undated, but that is about the date of it.) Its variations from the earlier editions are trifling, and I afterwards reduced all the readings to the standard of the first edition (1532). The MS. used by Thynne was obviously a copy of 'O.', as explained above; and it shews indications of being copied at an earlier date than 'G.', i. e. before 1440. On the whole, 'Th.' appears to me more correct than 'G.', and I have found it very serviceable. We learn from it, for example, that the scribe of 'G.' frequently dropped the prefix y- in past participles, giving l. 890 in the form 'For nought clad in silk was he,' instead of y-clad. Cf. ll. 892, 897, 900, &c.; see the foot-notes.

'Th.' supplies the deficiencies in G., viz. ll. 1-44, 333-380, &c., as well as four lines at the end; and suggests numerous corrections.

§ 24. The various later reprints of the 'Romaunt,' as in Speght (1598) and other editions, are merely less correct copies of 'Th.', and are not worth consulting. The only exceptions are the editions by Bell and Morris. Bell's text was the first for which 'G.' was consulted, and he follows the MS. as his general guide, filling up the deficiencies from Speght's edition, which he describes as 'corrupt and half-modernised.' Why he chose Speght in preference to Thynne, he does not tell us. In consequence, he has left lines incomplete in a large number of instances, owing to putting too much faith in the MS., and neglecting the better printed sources. Thus, in l. 890, he gives us 'clad' instead of 'y-clad'; where any of the printed texts would have set him right.

Morris's edition is 'printed from the unique MS. in the Hunterian Museum, Glasgow'; but contains numerous corrections, apparently from Thynne. Thus, in l. 890, he reads 'y-clad'; the y- being printed in italics to shew that it is not in the MS. [15]

The present edition principally follows 'G.', but it has been collated with 'Th.' throughout. Besides this, a large number of spellings in Fragment A. have been slightly amended on definite principles, the rejected spellings being given in the footnotes, whenever they are of the slightest interest or importance. Silent alterations are changes such as i for y in king for kyng (l. 10), and whylom for whilom (in the same line), to distinguish vowel-length; the use of v for consonantal u in avisioun for auisioun (l. 9); the use of ee for (long) e in Iolitee for Iolite (l. 52) for the sake of clearness; and a few other alterations of the like kind, which make the text easier to read without at all affecting its accuracy. I have also altered the suffix -is into -es in such words as hertes for hertis (l. 76); and changed the suffixes -id and -ith into the more usual -ed and -eth, both of which are common in the MS., usually giving notice; and in other similar minute ways have made the text more like the usual texts of Chaucer in appearance. But in Fragments B and C such changes have been made more sparingly.

I have also corrected numerous absolute blunders, especially in the use of the final e. For example, in l. 125, I have no hesitation in printing wissh for wysshe, because the use of final e at the end of a strong past tense, in the first person singular, is obviously absurd. Owing to the care with which the two authorities, 'G.' and 'Th.', have been collated, and my constant reference to the French original, I have no hesitation in saying that the present edition, if fairly judged, will be found to be more correct than its predecessors. For Dr. Kaluza's help I am most grateful.

§ 26. For example, in l. 1188, all the editions have sarlynysh, there being no such word. It is an obvious error for Sarsinesshe (riming with fresshe); for the F. text has Sarrazinesche, i. e. Saracenic.

In l. 1201, the authorities and Bell have gousfaucoun, which Morris alters to gounfaucoun in his text, and to gownfaucoun in his glossary. But all of these are 'ghost-words,' i. e. non-existent. Seeing that the original has gonfanon, it is clear that Chaucer wrote gonfanoun, riming with renoun.

In l. 1379, late editions have lorey; in l. 1313, Bell has loreryes, which Morris alters to loreyes. There is no such word as lorey. Thynne has laurer, laurelles. Considering that loreres rimes with [16]oliveres, it is obvious that the right forms are lorer and loreres (French, loriers); see laurer in Stratmann.

In l. 1420, where the authorities have veluet, the modern editions have velvet. But the u (also written ou) was at that time a vowel, and velu-et (or velou-et) was trisyllabic, as the rhythm shews. The modern velvet seems to have arisen from a mistake.

Several other restorations of the text are pointed out in the notes, and I need not say more about them here.

For a few of the Notes, I am indebted to Bell's edition; but most of the work in them is my own.

For some account of the famous French poem entitled 'Le Roman de la Rose,' see Morley's English Writers, 1889, iv. 1. It was commenced by Guillaume de Lorris, born at Lorris, in the valley of the Loire, who wrote it at the age of five-and-twenty, probably between the years 1200 and 1230^[194]. He must have died young, as he left the poem incomplete, though it then extended to 4070 lines. It was continued, a little more than 40 years after Guillaume's death, by Jean de Meun (or Meung), born (as he tells us) at Meung-sur-Loire, and surnamed le Clopinel (i. e. the hobbler, the lame). See, for these facts, the French text, ll. 10601, 10603, 10626. He added 18004 lines, so that the whole poem finally extended to the enormous length of 22074 lines.

Jean de Meun was a man of a very different temperament from his predecessor. Guillaume de Lorris merely planned a fanciful allegorical love-poem, in which the loved one was represented as a Rose in a beautiful garden, and the lover as one who desired [17]to pluck it, but was hindered by various allegorical personages, such as Danger, Shame, Jealousy, and Fear, though assisted by others, such as Bel Accueil (Fair Reception), Frankness, Pity, and the like. But Jean de Meun took up the subject in a keener and more earnest spirit, inserting some powerful pieces of satire against the degraded state of many women of the day and against various corruptions of the church. This infused a newer life into the poem, and made it extremely popular and successful. We may look upon the former part, down to l. 4432 of the translation, as a pretty and courtly description of a fanciful dream, whilst the remaining portion intersperses with the general description many forcible remarks, of a satirical nature, on the manners of the time, and affords numerous specimens of the author's erudition. Jean de Meun was the author of several other pieces, including a poem which he called his 'Testament.' He probably lived into the beginning of the fourteenth century, and died about 1318.

§ 28. Professor Morley gives a brief analysis of the whole poem, which will be found to be a useful guide through the labyrinth of this rambling poem. The chief points in it are the following.

The poet's dream begins, after a brief introduction, with a description of allegorical personages, as seen painted on the outside of the walls of a garden, viz. Hate and Felony, Covetousness, &c.; ll. 147-474 of the translation.

We may next note a description of Idleness, the young girl who opens the door of the garden (531-599); of Sir Mirth (600-644); of the garden itself (645-732); again, of Sir Mirth, the lady Gladness, Cupid, or the God of Love, with his two bows and ten arrows, and his bachelor, named Sweet-looking (733-998). Next comes a company of dancers, such as Beauty, Riches, Largesse (Bounty), Frankness, Courtesy, and Idleness again (999-1308). The poet next describes the trees in the garden (1349-1408), and the wells in the same (1409-1454); especially the well of Narcissus, whose story is duly told (1455-1648). The Rose-tree (1649-1690). The Rose-bud (1691-1714).

§ 29. Just at this point, the descriptions cease for a while, and the action, so to speak, begins. The God of Love seeks to wound the poet, or lover, with his arrows, and succeeds in doing so; after which he calls upon the lover to yield himself up as a prisoner, which he does (1715-2086). Love locks up the lover's heart, and gives him [18]full instructions for his behaviour (2087-2950); after which Love vanishes (2951-2966). The Rose-tree is defended by a hedge; the lover seeks the assistance of Bialacoil or Belacoil (i. e. Fair-Reception), but is warned off by Danger, Wicked-Tongue, and Shame (2967-3166); and at last, Fair-Reception flees away (3167-3188). At this juncture, Reason comes to the lover, and gives him good advice; but he rejects it, and she leaves him to himself (3189-3334).

He now seeks the help of a Friend, and Danger allows him to come a little nearer, but tells him he must not pass within the hedge (3335-3498). Frankness and Pity now assist him, and he enters the garden, rejoined by Fair-Reception (3499-3626). The Rose appears more beautiful than ever, and the lover, aided by Venus, kisses it (3627-3772). This leads to trouble; Wicked-tongue and Jealousy raise opposition, Danger is reproved, and becomes more watchful than before (3773-4144). Jealousy builds a strong tower of stone, to guard the Rose-tree; the gates of the tower are guarded by Danger, Shame, Dread, and Wicked-tongue (4145-4276); and Fair-Reception is imprisoned within it (4277-4314). The lover mourns, and is inclined to despair (4315-4432).

§ 30. At this point, the work of G. de Lorris ceases, and Jean de Meun begins by echoing the word 'despair,' and declaring that he will have none of it. The lover reconsiders his position (4433-4614). Reason (in somewhat of a new character) revisits the lover, and again instructs him, declaring how love is made up of contrarieties, and discussing the folly of youth and the self-restraint of old-age (4615-5134). The lover again rejects Reason's advice, who continues her argument, gives a definition of Friendship, and discusses the variability of Fortune (5135-5560), the value of Poverty (5561-5696), and the vanity of Covetousness (5697-5810).

§ 31. Here ends Fragment B, and a large gap occurs in the translation. The omitted portion of the French text continues the discourse of Reason, with examples from the stories of Virginia, Nero, and Crœsus, and references to the fall of Manfred (conquered by Charles of Anjou) and the fate of Conradin. But all this is wasted on the lover, whom Reason quits once more. The lover applies a second time to his Friend, who recommends bounty or bribery. Here Jean de Meun discourses on prodigality, on women who take presents, on the Age of Gold, and on jealous husbands, with much satire interspersed, and many allusions, as for example, to Penelope, Lucretia, Abelard, Hercules, and others. [19]

At last Love pities the lover, and descends to help him; and, with the further assistance of Bounty, Honour, and other barons of Love's court, proceeds to lay siege to the castle in which Jealousy has imprisoned Fair-Reception.

§ 32. Here begins Fragment C; in which the ranks of the besiegers are joined by other assistants of a doubtful and treacherous character, viz. False-Semblant and Constrained-Abstinence (5811-5876). Love discusses buying and selling, and the use of bounty and riches (5877-6016). Love's Barons ask Love to take False-Semblant and Constrained-Abstinence into his service (6017-6057). Love consents, but bids False-Semblant confess his true character (6058-6081). False-Semblant replies by truly exposing his own hypocrisy, with keen attacks upon religious hypocrites (6082-7334). Love now begins the assault upon the castle of Jealousy (7335-7352). A digression follows, regarding the outward appearance of False-Semblant and Constrained-Abstinence (7353-7420). The assailants advance to the gate guarded by Wicked-Tongue, who is harangued by Constrained-Abstinence (7421-7605), and by False-Semblant (7606-7696). And here the English version ends.

The above sketch gives a sufficient notion of the general contents of the poem. Of course the lover is ultimately successful, and carries off the Rose in triumph.

§ 33. It deserves to be noted, in conclusion, that, as the three Fragments of the English version, all taken together, represent less than a third of the French poem, we must not be surprised to find, as we do, that Chaucer's numerous allusions to, and citations from, the French poem, usually lie outside that part of it that happens to be translated. Still more often, they lie outside the part of it translated in Fragment A. Hence it seldom happens that we can compare his quotations with his own translation. In the chief instances where we can do so, we find that he has not repeated his own version verbatim, but has somewhat varied his expressions. I refer, in particular, to the Book of the Duchess, 284-6, as compared with Rom. Rose, 7-10; the same, 340-1, beside R.R., 130-1; the same, 410-2, beside R.R., 61-2; and the same, 419-426, 429-432, beside R.R., 1391-1403.

§ 34. In the present edition I have supplied the original French text, in the lower part of each page, as far as the end of Fragment A, where Chaucer's work ends. This text is exactly copied from the edition by M. Méon, published at Paris in four volumes in [20]1813^[195]. I omit, however, the occasional versified headings, which appear as summaries and are of no consequence. Throughout the notes I refer to the lines as numbered in this edition. The later edition by M. Michel is practically useless for the purpose of reference, as the numbering of the lines in it is strangely incorrect. For example, line 3408 is called 4008, and the whole number of lines is made out to be 22817, which is largely in excess of the truth.

Fragments B and C are printed in smaller type, to mark their distinction from Fragment A; and the corresponding French text is omitted, to save space.

§ 1. It has been usual, in editions of Chaucer's Works, to mingle with those which he is known to have written, a heterogeneous jumble of poems by Gower, Lydgate, Hoccleve, Henrysoun, and various anonymous writers (some of quite late date), and then to accept a quotation from any one of them as being a quotation 'from Chaucer.' Some principle of selection is obviously desirable; and the first question that arises is, naturally, this: which of the Minor Poems are genuine? The list here given partly coincides with that adopted by Dr. Furnivall in the publications of the Chaucer Society. I have, however, added six, here numbered VI, XI, XII, XXI, XXII, and XXIII; my reasons for doing so are given below, where each poem is discussed separately. At the same time, I have omitted the poem entitled 'The Mother of God,' which is known to have been written by Hoccleve. The only known copy of it is in a MS. now in the library of the late Sir Thomas Phillipps, which contains sixteen poems, all of which are by the same hand, viz. that of Hoccleve. After all, it is only a translation; still, it is well and carefully written, and the imitation of Chaucer's style is good. In determining which poems have the best right to be reckoned as Chaucer's, we have to consider both the external and the internal evidence.

We will therefore consider, in the first place, the external evidence generally. [21]

The most important evidence is that afforded by the poet himself. In an Introduction prefixed to the Man of Law's Prologue (Cant. Tales, B 57), he says—

In the Prologue to the Legend of Good Women (see vol. iii.), he refers to his translation of the Romaunce of the Rose, and to his Troilus; and, according to MS. Fairfax 16, ll. 417-423, he says—

The rest of the passage does not immediately concern us, excepting ll. 427, 428, where we find—

In the copy of the same Prologue, as extant in MS. Gg. 4. 27, in the Cambridge University Library, there are two additional lines, doubtless genuine, to this effect—

There is also a remarkable passage at the end of his Persones Tale, the genuineness of which has been doubted by some, but it appears in the MSS., and I do not know of any sound reason for rejecting it. According to the Ellesmere MS., he here mentions—'the book of Troilus, the book also of Fame, the book of the xxv. Ladies^[196], the book of the Duchesse, the book of seint Valentynes day of the parlement of briddes ... the book of the Leoun ... and many a song,' &c.

Besides this, in the House of Fame, l. 729, he mentions his own name, viz. 'Geffrey.' We thus may be quite certain as to the genuineness of this poem, the longest and most important of all the Minor Poems^[197], and we may at once add to the list the Book of [22]the Duchesse, the next in order of length, and the Parliament of Foules, which is the third in the same order.

We also learn that he composed some poems which have not come down to us, concerning which a few words may be useful.

1. 'Origines vpon the Maudeleyne' must have been a translation from a piece attributed to Origen. In consequence, probably, of this remark of the poet, the old editions insert a piece called the 'Lamentacion of Marie Magdaleine,' which has no pretence to be considered Chaucer's, and may be summarily dismissed. It is sufficient to notice that it contains a considerable number of rimes such as are never found in his genuine works, as, for example, the dissyllabic dy-e^[198] riming with why (st. 13); the plural adjective ken-e riming with y-ën, i. e. eyes, which would, with this Chaucerian pronunciation, be no rime at all (st. 19); and thirdly, disgised riming with rived, which is a mere assonance, and saves us from the trouble of further investigation (st. 25). See below, p. 37.

2. 'The wrechede engendrynge of mankynde' is obviously meant to describe a translation or imitation of the treatise by Pope Innocent III, entitled De Miseria Conditionis Humanae. The same treatise is referred to by Richard Rolle de Hampole, in his Pricke of Conscience, l. 498. It should be noted, however, that a few stanzas of this work have been preserved, by being incorporated (as quotations) in the Canterbury Tales, viz. in B 99-121, 421-7, 771-7, 925-31, 1135-8; cf. C 537-40, 551-2. See notes to these passages.

3. 'The book of the Leoun,' i. e. of the lion, was probably a translation of the poem called Le Dit du Lion by Machault; see the note to l. 1024 of the Book of the Duchesse in the present volume.

The next piece of evidence is that given in what is known as 'Lydgate's list.' This is contained in a long passage in the prologue to his poem known as the 'Fall of Princes,' translated from the French version (by Laurens de Premierfait) of the Latin book by Boccaccio, entitled 'De Casibus Virorum Illustrium^[199].' In this [23]Lydgate commends his 'maister Chaucer,' and mentions many of his works, as, e. g. Troilus and Creseide, the translation of Boethius' De Consolatione Philosophiae, the treatise on the Astrolabe addressed to his 'sonne that called was Lowys,' the Legend of Good Women, and the Canterbury Tales. The whole passage is given in Morris's edition of Chaucer, vol. i. pp. 79-81; but I shall only cite so much of it as refers to the Minor Poems, and I take the opportunity of doing so directly, from an undated black-letter edition published by John Wayland.

It is clear to me that Lydgate is, at first, simply repeating the information which we have already had upon Chaucer's own authority; he begins by merely following Chaucer's own language in the extracts above cited. Possibly he knew no more than we do of 'Orygene vpon the Maudelayn,' and of the 'boke of the Lyon.' At any rate, [24]he tells us no more about them. Naturally, in speaking of the Minor Poems, we should expect to find him following, as regards the three chief poems, the order of length; that is, we should expect to find here a notice of (1) the House of Fame; (2) the Book of the Duchesse; and (3) the Parliament of Foules. We are naturally disposed to exclaim with Ten Brink (Studien, p. 152)—'Why did he leave out the House of Fame?' But we need not say with him, that 'to this question I know of no answer.' For it is perfectly clear to me, though I cannot find that any one else seems to have thought of it, that 'Dant in English' and 'The House of Fame' are one and the same poem, described in the same position and connexion. If anything about the House of Fame is clear at all, it is that (as Ten Brink so clearly points out, in his Studien, p. 89) the influence of Dante is more obvious in this poem than in any other. I would even go further and say that it is the only poem which owes its chief inspiration to Dante in the whole of English literature during, at least, the Middle-English period. There is absolutely nothing else to which such a name as 'Dante in English' can with any fitness be applied. The phrase 'himselfe doth so expresse' is rather dubious; but I take it to mean: '(I give it that name, for) he, i. e. Chaucer, expresses himself like Dante (therein).' In any case, I refuse to take any other view until some competent critic will undertake to tell me, what poem of Chaucer's, other than the House of Fame, can possibly be intended.

To which argument I have to add a second, viz. that Lydgate mentions the House of Fame in yet another way; for he refers to it at least three times, in clear terms, in other passages of the same poem, i. e. of the Fall of Princes.

Lydgate describes the Parliament of Foules in terms which clearly shew that he had read it. He also enables us to add to our list the Complaint of Anelida and the Complaint of Mars; for it is the latter poem which contains the story of the broche of Thebes. We have, accordingly, complete authority for the genuineness of the House of Fame and the four longest of the Minor Poems, which, as arranged in order of length, are these: The House of Fame (2158 lines); Book of the Duchesse (1334 lines); Parliament of Foules (699 lines); Anelida and Arcite (357 lines); and Complaint of Mars (298 lines). This gives us a total of 4846 lines, furnishing a very fair standard of comparison whereby to consider the claims to genuineness of other poems. Lydgate further tells us that Chaucer

The next best evidence is that afforded by notes in the existing MSS.; and here, in particular, we should first consider the remarks by Chaucer's great admirer, John Shirley, who took considerable pains to copy out and preserve his poems, and is said by Stowe to have died Oct. 21, 1456, at the great age of ninety, so that he was born more than 30 years before Chaucer died. On his authority, we may attribute to Chaucer the A. B. C.; the Complaint to Pity; the Complaint of Mars (according to a heading in MS. T.); the Complaint of Anelida (according to a heading in MS. Addit. 16165); the Lines to Adam, called in MS. T. 'Chauciers Wordes a. Geffrey vn-to Adam his owen scryveyne'; Fortune; Truth; Gentilesse; Lak of Stedfastnesse; the Compleint of Venus; and the Compleint to his Empty Purse. The MSS. due to Shirley are the Sion College MS., Trin. Coll. Cam. R. 3. 20, Addit. 16165, Ashmole 59, Harl. 78, Harl. 2251, and Harl. 7333. See also § 23, p. 75.

The Fairfax MS. 16, a very fair MS. of the fifteenth century, contains several of the Minor Poems; and in this the name of Chaucer is written at the end of the poem on Truth and of the Compleint to his Purse; it also appears in the title of Lenvoy de Chaucer a Scogan; in that of Lenvoy de Chaucer a Bukton; in that of the Compleint of Chaucer to his empty Purse, and in that of 'Proverbe of Chaucer.' [26]

Again, the Pepys MS. no. 2006 attributes to Chaucer the A. B. C., the title there given being 'Pryer a nostre Dame, per Chaucer'; as well as the Compleint to his Purse, the title being 'La Compleint de Chaucer a sa Bourse Voide.' It also has the title 'Lenvoy de Chaucer a Scogan.' See also p. 80, note 2.

The 'Former Age' is entitled 'Chawcer vp-on this fyfte metur of the second book' in the Cambridge MS. Ii. 3. 21; and at the end of the same poem is written 'Finit etas prima. Chaucers' in the Cambridge MS. Hh. 4. 12. The poem on Fortune is also marked 'Causer' in the former of these MSS.; indeed, these two poems practically belong to Chaucer's translation of Boethius, though probably written at a somewhat later period. After all, the most striking testimony to their authenticity is the fact that, in MS. Ii. 3. 21, these two poems are inserted in the very midst of the prose text of 'Boethius,' between the fifth metre and the sixth prose of Book II.

The Cambridge MS. Gg. 4. 27, which contains an excellent copy of the Canterbury Tales, attributes to Chaucer the Parliament of Foules; and gives us the title 'Litera directa de Scogon per G. C.' Of course 'G. C.' is Geoffrey Chaucer.

From Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 13, we learn that there is a verse translation of De Deguileville's Pèlerinage do la Vie Humaine, attributed to Lydgate, in MS. Cotton, Vitellius C. XIII. (leaf 256), in which the 'A. B. C.' is distinctly attributed to Chaucer^[202].

The Balade 'To Rosamounde' is assigned to Chaucer in the unique copy of it in the Rawlinson MS. 'A Compleint to his Lady' is assigned to Chaucer in the only complete copy of it.

We ought also to assign some value to the manner in which the poems appear in the MS. copies. This can only be appreciated by inspection of the MSS. themselves. Any one who will look for himself at the copies of Gentilesse, Lak of Stedfastnesse, Truth, and Against Women Inconstaunt in MS. Cotton, Cleop. D. 7, will see that the scribe clearly regarded the last of these as genuine, as well as the rest. And the same may be said of some other poems which are not absolutely marked with Chaucer's name. This [27]important argument is easily derided by those who cannot read MSS., but it remains valuable all the same.

At p. 116 of the same Trial Forewords is a description by Mr. Bradshaw of a very rare edition by Caxton of some of Chaucer's Minor Poems. It contains: (1) Parliament of Foules; (2) a treatise by Scogan, in which Chaucer's 'Gentilesse' is introduced; (3) a single stanza of 7 lines, beginning—'Wyth empty honde men may no hawkes lure'; (4) Chaucer's 'Truth,' entitled—'The good counceyl of Chawcer'; (5) the poem on 'Fortune'; and (6) part of Lenvoy to Scogan, viz. the first three stanzas. The volume is imperfect at the end. As to the article No. 3, it was probably included because the first line of it is quoted from l. 415 of the Wyf of Bathes Prologue (Cant. Ta. 5997, vol. iv. p. 332).

At p. 118 of the same is another description, also by Mr. Bradshaw, of a small quarto volume printed by Caxton, consisting of only ten leaves. It contains, according to him: (1) Anelida and Arcite, ll. 1-210; (2) The Compleint of Anelida, being the continuation of the former, ll. 211-350, where the poem ends; (3) The Compleint of Chaucer vnto his empty purse, with an Envoy headed—'Thenuoye of Chaucer vnto the kynge'; (4) Three^[203] couplets, beginning—'Whan feyth failleth in prestes sawes,' and ending—'Be brought to grete confusioun'; (5) Two couplets, beginning—'Hit falleth for euery gentilman,' and ending—'And the soth in his presence'; (6) Two couplets, beginning—'Hit cometh by kynde of gentil blode,' and ending—'The werk of wisedom berith witnes'; followed by—'Et sic est finis.' The last three articles only make fourteen lines in all, and are of little importance^[204].

The first collected edition of Chaucer's Works is that edited by W. Thynne in 1532, but there were earlier editions of his separate poems. The best account of these is that which I here copy from a note on p. 70 of Furnivall's edition of F. Thynne's 'Animaduersions vpon the Annotacions and Corrections of some imperfections of [28]impressiones of Chaucer's Workes'; published for the Chaucer Society in 1875.

Only one edition of Chaucer's Works had been published before the date of Thynne's, 1532, and that was Pynson's in 1526, without a general title, but containing three parts, with separate signatures, and seemingly intended to sell separately; 1. the boke of Caunterbury tales; 2. the boke of Fame ... with dyuers other of his workes [i. e. Assemble of Foules^[205], La Belle Dame^[206], Morall Prouerbes]; 3. the boke of Troylus and Cryseyde. But of separate works of Chaucer before 1532, the following had been published:—

After Thynne's first edition of the Works in 1532 (printed by Thomas Godfray), came his second in 1542 (for John Reynes and Wyllyam Bonham), to which he added 'The Plowman's Tale' after the Parson's Tale, i. e. at the end. [29]

Then came a reprint for the booksellers (Wm. Bonham, R. Kele, T. Petit, Robert Toye), about 1550, which put the Plowman's Tale before the Parson's. This was followed by an edition in 1561 for the booksellers (Ihon Kyngston, Henry Bradsha, citizen and grocer of London, &c.), to which, when more than half printed, Stowe contributed some fresh pieces, the spurious Court of Love, Lydgate's Sege of Thebes, and other poems. Next came Speght's edition of 1598—on which William Thynne comments in his Animadversions—which added the spurious 'Dreme,' and 'Flower and Leaf.' This was followed by Speght's second edition, in 1602, in which Francis Thynne helped him, and to which were added Chaucer's 'A. B. C.', and the spurious 'Jack Upland^[209].' Jack Upland had been before printed, with Chaucer's name on the title-page, about 1536-40 (London, J. Gough, no date, 8vo.).

In an Appendix to the Preface to Tyrwhitt's edition of the Canterbury Tales, there is a similar account of the early editions of Chaucer, to which the reader may refer. He quotes the whole of Caxton's preface to his second edition of the Canterbury Tales, shewing how Caxton reprinted the book because he had meanwhile come upon a more correct MS. than that which he had first followed.

If we now briefly consider all the earlier editions, we find that they may be thus tabulated.

Collected Works. Pynson's edition of 1526, containing only a portion, as above; La Belle Dame being spurious. Also the following:—

3. Reprinted, with the matter rearranged; London, no date, about 1550. Folio. (Of this edition I possess a copy.)

Here the Plowman's Tale is put before the Parson's. Moreover, the three pieces numbered 66-68 below (p. 45), are inserted at the end of the Table of Contents.

4. Reprinted, with large additions by John Stowe. London, 1561. Folio. (See further below, p. 31). I possess a copy. [30]

5. Reprinted, with additions and alterations by Thomas Speght; London, 1598. Folio.

Here, for the first time, appear 'Chaucer's Dream' and 'The Flower and the Leaf'; both are spurious.

6. Reprinted, with further additions and alterations by Thomas Speght; London, 1602. Folio.

Here, for the first time, appear the spurious Jack Upland^[210] and the genuine A. B. C.

8. Reprinted, with additions and great alterations in spelling, by John Urry; London, 1721. Folio.

This edition is the worst that has appeared. It is not necessary for our purpose to enumerate the numerous later editions. An entirely new edition of the Canterbury Tales was produced by Thomas Tyrwhitt in 1775-8, in 5 vols., 8vo.; to which all later editions have been much indebted^[211].

The manner in which these editions were copied one from the other renders it no very difficult task to describe the whole contents of them accurately. The only important addition in the editions of 1542 and 1550 is the spurious Plowman's Tale, which in no way concerns us. Again, the only important additional poems after 1561 are the spurious Chaucer's Dream, The Flower and the Leaf, and the genuine A. B. C. The two representative editions are really those of 1532 and 1561. Now the edition of 1561 consists of two parts; the former consists of a reprint from former editions, and so differs but little from the edition of 1532; whilst the latter part consists of additional matter furnished by John Stowe. Hence a careful examination of the edition of 1561 is, practically, nearly sufficient to give us all the information which we need. I shall therefore give a complete table of the contents of this edition. [31]

1. Caunterburie Tales. (The Prologue begins on a page with the signature A 2, the first quire of six leaves not being numbered; the Knightes Tale begins on a page with the signature B ii., and marked Fol. i. The spurious Plowman's Tale precedes the Parson's Tale.)

4. The testament of Creseide. [By Robert Henryson.] Fol. cxciiii. Followed by its continuation, called The Complaint of Creseide; by the same.

6. A goodlie balade of Chaucer; beginning—'Mother of norture, best beloued of all.' Fol. ccx.

9. Begins—'My master. &c. When of Christ our kyng.' [Lenvoy to Buckton.] Fol. ccxliiii^[214].

11. The Floure of Curtesie, made by Ihon lidgate. Fol. ccxlviij. Followed by a Balade, which forms part of it.

17. The complaint of the blacke Knight. [By Lydgate; see p. 35, note 3.] Fol. cclxx.

18. A praise of Women. Begins—'Al tho the lyste of women euill to speke.' Fol. cclxxiii.^[215], back.

23, 24. The complaint of Mars and Venus. Fol. cccxxiiij., back. (Printed as one poem; but there is a new title—The complaint of Venus—at the beginning of the latter.)

26. A Ballade in commendacion of our Ladie. Fol. cccxxix. [By Lydgate; see p. 38.]

27. Ihon Gower vnto the noble King Henry the .iiij. Fol. cccxxx., back. [By Gower.]

30. Balade de bon consail. Begins—If it be fall that God the list visite. (Only 7 lines.) On the same page.

32. Balade with Envoy (no title). Begins—'O leude booke with thy foule rudenesse.' Fol. cccxxxiiij., back.

33. Scogan, vnto the Lordes and Gentilmen of the Kinges house. (This poem, by H. Scogan, quotes Chaucer's 'Gentilesse' in full.) Fol. cccxxxiiij., back.

34. Begins—'Somtyme the worlde so stedfast was and stable.' [Lak of Stedfastnesse.] Fol. cccxxxv., back.

37. Begins—'Tobroken been the statutes hie in heauen'; headed Lenuoye. [Lenvoy to Scogan.] Fol. cccxxxvj., back.

38. Poem in two stanzas of seven lines each. Begins—'Go foorthe kyng, rule thee by Sapience.' Same page.

40. A balade of good counseile translated out of Latin verses in-to Englishe, by Dan Ihon lidgat cleped the monke of Buri. Begins—'COnsyder well euery circumstaunce.' Fol. cccxxxvij.

41. A balade in the Praise and commendacion of master Geffray Chauser for his golden eloquence. (Only 7 lines.) Same leaf, back. [See p. 56.]

¶ Here foloweth certaine woorkes of Geffray Chauser, whiche hath not heretofore been printed, and are gathered and added to this booke by Ihon Stowe.

42. A balade made by Chaucer, teching what is gentilnes^[217]. [Gentilesse.] Fol. cccxl.

43. A Prouerbe [read Prouerbs] agaynst couitise and negligence. [Proverbs.] Same page.

44. A balade which Chaucer made agaynst women vnconstaunt. Same page. [Certainly genuine, in my opinion; but here relegated to an Appendix, to appease such as cannot readily apprehend my reasons. Cf. p. 26.]

45. A balade which Chaucer made in the praise or rather dispraise, of women for their doublenes. [By Lydgate.] Begins—'This world is full of variaunce.' Same page.

46. This werke folowinge was compiled by Chaucer, and is caled the craft of louers. Fol. cccxli. [Written in 1448.]

47. A Balade. Begins—'Of their nature they greatly them delite.' Fol. cccxli., back. [Quotes from no. 56.]

51. A Ballade. Begins—'In the season of Feuerere when it was full colde.' Same page.

52. A Ballade. Begins—'O Mercifull and o merciable.' Fol. cccxliij., back. [Made up of scraps from late poems; see p. 57.]

53. Here foloweth how Mercurie with Pallas, Venus and Minarua, appered to Paris of Troie, he slepyng by a fountain. Fol. cccxliiij.

54. A balade pleasaunte. Begins—'I haue a Ladie where so she [34]bee.' Same page. At the end—'Explicit the discriuyng of a faire Ladie.'

55. An other Balade. Begins—'O Mossie Quince, hangyng by your stalke.' Fol. cccxliiij., back.

56. A balade, warnyng men to beware of deceitptfnll women (sic). Begins—'LOke well aboute ye that louers bee.' Same page. [By Lydgate.]

57. These verses next folowing were compiled by Geffray Chauser, and in the writen copies foloweth at the ende of the complainte of petee. Begins—'THe long nyghtes when euery [c]reature.' [This is the 'Compleint to his Lady,' as I venture to call it.] Fol. cccxlv^[218].

58. A balade declaring that wemens chastite Doeth moche excel all treasure worldly. Begins—'IN womanhede as auctours al write.' Back of same leaf.

59. The Court of Loue. Begins—'WIth temerous herte, and trembling hand of drede.' Fol. cccxlviij.

60. Chaucers woordes vnto his owne Scriuener^[219]. Fol. ccclv., back. At the end—Thus endeth the workes of Geffray Chaucer. (This is followed by 34 Latin verses, entitled Epitaphium Galfridi Chaucer, &c.)

Of the 41 pieces in Part I. of the above, we must of course accept as Chaucer's the four poems entitled Canterbury Tales, Troilus, Legend of Good Women, and House of Fame; also the prose translation of Boethius, and the prose treatise on the Astrolabie. The remaining number of Minor Poems (excluding the Romaunt of the Rose) is 34; out of which number I accept the 13 numbered above with the numbers 8, 9, 10, 12, 14, 23, 24, 33 (so far as it quotes Chaucer), 34, 35, 36, 37, and 39. Every one of these has already been shewn to be genuine on sufficient external evidence, and it is not likely that their genuineness will be doubted. In the present volume they [35]appear, respectively, as nos. III, XVII, V, II, VII, IV, XVIII, XIV, XV, XIII, X, XVI, XIX. Of the remaining 21, several may be dismissed in a few words. No. 4 is well known to have been written by Robert Henryson. Nos. 11, 28, 29, and 40 are distinctly claimed for Lydgate in all the editions; and no. 27 is similarly claimed for Gower. No. 25 was written by Hoccleve^[220]; and the last line gives the date—'A thousande, foure hundred and seconde,' i. e. 1402, or two years after Chaucer's death. No. 13 is translated from Alain Chartier, who was only four years old when Chaucer died; see p. 28, note 2. Tyrwhitt remarks that, in MS. Harl. 372, this poem is expressly attributed to a Sir Richard Ros^[221]. No one can suppose that no. 41 is by Chaucer, seeing that the first line is—'Maister Geffray Chauser, that now lithe in graue.' Mr. Bradshaw once assured me that no. 17 is ascribed, on MS. authority, to Lydgate; and no one who reads it with care can doubt that this is correct^[222]. It is, in a measure, an imitation of the Book of the Duchesse; and it contains some interesting references to Chaucer, as in the lines—'Of Arcite, or of him Palemoun,' and 'Of Thebes eke the false Arcite.' No. 20, i. e. the Testament of Love, is in prose, and does not here concern us; still it is worth pointing out that it contains a passage (near the end) such as we cannot suppose that Chaucer would have written concerning himself^[223].

After thus removing from consideration nos. 4, 11, 13, 17, 20, 25, 27, 28, 29, 40, and 41, half of the remaining 21 pieces have been considered. The only ones left over for consideration are nos. 6, 15, 18, 21, 22, 26, 30, 31, 32, 38. As to no. 6, there is some [36]external evidence in its favour, which will be duly considered; but as to the rest, there is absolutely nothing to connect them with Chaucer beyond their almost accidental appearance in an edition by Wm. Thynne, published in 1532, i. e. one hundred and thirty-two years after Chaucer's death; and it has just been demonstrated that Thynne is obviously wrong in at least eleven instances, and that he wittingly and purposely chose to throw into his edition poems which he knew to have been written by Lydgate or by Gower! It is ridiculous to attach much importance to such testimony as this. And now let me discuss, as briefly as I can, the above-named poems separately.

6. A goodlie balade of Chaucer; begins—'Mother of norture, best beloued of all'; printed in Morris's edition, vi. 275; and in Bell's edition, iii. 413. I have little to say against this poem; yet the rime of supposeth with riseth (st. 8) is somewhat startling. It is clearly addressed to a lady named Margaret^[224], as appears from her being likened to the daisy, and called the sun's daughter. I suspect it was merely attributed to Chaucer by association with the opening lines of the Legend of Good Women. The suggestion, in Bell's Chaucer, that it possibly refers to the Countess of Pembroke, is one of those bad guesses which are discreditable. Tyrwhitt shews, in note n to his 'Appendix to the Preface,' that she must have died not later than 1370, whereas this Balade must be much later than that date; and I agree with him in supposing that le Dit de la fleur de lis et de la Marguerite, by Guillaume de Machault (printed in Tarbé's edition, 1849, p. 123), and the Dittié de la flour de la Margherite, by Froissart, may furnish us with the true key to those mystical compliments which Chaucer and others were accustomed to pay to the daisy.

I wish to add that I am convinced that one stanza, probably the sixth is missing. It ought to form a triple Balade, i. e. three Balades of 21 lines each, each with its own refrain; but the second is imperfect. There seems to be some affectation about the letters beginning the stanzas which I cannot solve; these are M, M, M (probably for Margaret) in the first Balade; D, D in the second; and J, C, Q in the third. The poet goes out of his way to bring in these letters. The result looks like Margaret de Jacques; but this guess does not help us. [37]

The poem is rather artificial, especially in such inversions as It receyve, Cauteles whoso useth, and Quaketh my penne; these things are not in Chaucer's manner. In the second stanza there is a faulty rime; for we there find shal, smal, answering to the dissyllabic rimes alle, calle, appalle, befalle, in stanzas 1 and 3. Lydgate has: 'My pen quake,' &c.; Troy Book, ch. x., fol. F2, back.

15. The assemble of Ladies. This poem Tyrwhitt decisively rejects. There is absolutely nothing to connect it with Chaucer. It purports to have been written by 'a gentlewoman'; and perhaps it was. It ends with the rime of done, pp., with sone (soon); which in Chaucer are spelt doon and son-e respectively, and never rime. Most of the later editions omit this poem. It is conveniently printed in Chalmers' English Poets, vol. i. p. 526; and consists of 108 7-line stanzas. For further remarks, see notes on The Flower and the Leaf (p. 44).

At p. 203 of the Ryme-Index to Chaucer's Minor Poems (Chaucer Society), I have printed a Ryme-Index to this poem, shewing that the number of non-Chaucerian rimes in it is about 60.

18. A praise of Women. In no way connected with Chaucer. Rejected by Tyrwhitt. Printed in Bell's edition, iv. 416, and in Chalmers' English Poets, vol. i. p. 344; also in Morris's Aldine edition, vol. vi. p. 278. In twenty-five 7-line stanzas. The rime of lie (to tell a lie) with sie (I saw), in st. 20, is suspicious; Chaucer has ly-e, sy. The rime of queen-e (usually dissyllabic in Chaucer) with beene (miswritten for been, they be, st. 23) is also suspicious. It contains the adjective sere, i. e. various (st. 11), which Chaucer never uses.

21. The lamentacion of Marie Magdaleine. Printed in Bell's Chaucer, iv. 395; and in Chalmers, i. 532. Tyrwhitt's remarks are admirable. He says, in his Glossary, s. v. Origenes:—'In the list of Chaucer's Works, in Legend of Good Women, l. 427, he says of himself:—

meaning, I suppose, a translation, into prose or verse, of the Homily de Maria Magdalena, which has been commonly, though falsely, attributed to Origen; v. Opp. Origenis, T. ii. p. 291, ed. Paris, 1604. I cannot believe that the poem entitled The Lamentation of Marie Magdaleine, which is in all the [older] editions of Chaucer, is really that work of his. It can hardly be considered as a translation, or even as an imitation, of the Homily; and the composition, in every [38]respect, is infinitely meaner than the worst of his genuine pieces.' To those who are interested in Chaucer's rimes I will merely point out the following: die, why (Ch. dy-e, why); kene, iyen (Ch. ken-e, y-ën); disguised, to-rived, a mere assonance; crie, incessauntly (Ch. cry-ë, incessauntly); slaine, paine (Ch. slein, pein-e); y-fet, let (Ch. y-fet, let-te); accept, bewept (Ch. accept-e, bewept); die, mihi (Ch. dy-e, mihi). To those interested in Chaucer's language, let me point out 'dogges rabiate'—'embesile his presence'—'my woful herte is inflamed so huge'—'my soveraine and very gentilman.' See st. 34, 39, 54, 99.

22. The remedie of Loue. Printed in Chalmers' British Poets, i. 539. In sixty-two 7-line stanzas. Rejected by Tyrwhitt. The language is extremely late; it seems to have been written in the 16th century. It contains such words as incongruitie, deduction, allective, can't (for cannot), scribable (fit for writing on), olibane, pant, babé (baby), cokold (which Chaucer spells cokewold), ortographie, ethimologie, ethimologise (verb). The provincial word lait, to search for, is well known to belong to the Northern dialect. Dr. Murray, s. v. allective, dates this piece about A.D. 1560; but it must be somewhat earlier than this, as it was printed in 1532. I should date it about 1530.

26. A Ballade in commendacion of our Ladie. Tyrwhitt remarks that 'a poem with the same beginning is ascribed to Lydgate, under the title of Invocation to our Lady; see Tanner, s. v. Lydgate.' The poem consists of thirty-five 7-line stanzas. It has all the marks of Lydgate's style, and imitates Chaucer's language. Thus the line—'I have none English conuenient and digne' is an echo of the Man of Law's Tale, l. 778—'O Donegild, I ne haue noon English digne.' Some of the lines imitate Chaucer's A. B. C. But the most remarkable thing is his quotation of the first line of Chaucer's Merciless Beauty, which he applies to the Virgin Mary! See note to that poem, l. 1.

A poem called an 'Invocation to our Lady' is ascribed to Lydgate in MS. Ashmole 59, fol. 39, back. It agrees with the present Ballade; which settles the question.

30. Balade de bon consail. Not in previous editions. Printed in Chalmers, i. 552. Only 7 lines, and here they are, duly edited:—

In l. 1, ed. 1561 has the; 2. aduersite; 3. Thanke; lorde; I supply fond, i. e. endeavour; thy-selfe; 4. (scans ill); 5. Founde; 6. Make.

31. Of the Cuckowe and the Nightingale. Printed in Bell's Chaucer, iv. 334; and in Morris's Chaucer, iv. 75. Not uncommon in MSS.; there is a copy in MS. Ff. 1. 6 in the Cambridge University Library; another in MS. Fairfax 16; another in MS. Bodley 638; another in MS. Tanner 346; and a fifth (imperfect) in MS. Arch. Selden B. 24, in the Bodleian Library. A sixth is in MS. Harl. 7333, in the British Museum. From some of these, Morris's better text was constructed; see his edition, pref. p. ix.

It is worth a note, by the way, that it is not the same poem as one entitled The Nightingale, extant in MS. no. 203 in Corpus Christi College, Oxford, and in MS. Cotton, Calig. A. ii., fol. 59, and attributed to Lydgate.

That the first two lines are by Chaucer, we cannot doubt, for they are quoted from the Knightes Tale, ll. 927, 928. Chaucer often quotes his own lines, but it is not likely that he would take them as the subject of a new poem. On the other hand, this is just what we should expect one of his imitators to do. The present poem is a very fair imitation of Chaucer's style, and follows his peculiarities of metre far more closely than is usually the case with Lydgate. The notion, near the end, of holding a parliament of birds, with the Eagle for lord, is evidently borrowed from Chaucer's Parliament of Foules. Whilst admitting that the present poem is more worthy of Chaucer than most of the others with which it has been proposed to burden his reputation, I can see no sufficient reason for connecting him with it; and the external evidence connects it, in fact, with Hoccleve. For the copy in MS. Bodley 638 calls it 'The boke of Cupide god of loue,' at fol. 11, back; whilst Hoccleve's Letter of Cupid is called 'The lettre of Cupide god of loue' in the same, fol. 38, back. The copy in the Fairfax MS. ends with the colophon—Explicit liber Cupidinis. The rimes are mostly Chaucerian; but the rime of day with the gerund to assay-e in st. 11 is suspicious; so also is that of now with the gerund to rescow-e in st. 46. In st. 13, grene rimes with been, whereas gren-e, in Chaucer, is always dissyllabic. Chaucer's biographers have been anxious to father this poem upon him, merely because it mentions Woodstock in l. 285.

One point about this poem is its very peculiar metre; the 5-line stanza, riming a a b b a, is certainly rare. If the question arises, whence [40]is it copied, the answer is clear, viz. from Chaucer's Envoy to his Compleint to his Purse. This is a further reason for dating it later than 1399.

32. Balade with envoy; 'O leude book,' &c. Printed in Bell's Chaucer, iv. 347, and in Morris's Chaucer, iv. 85, as if it were part of The Cuckoo and the Nightingale; but obviously unconnected with it. A Balade in the usual form, viz. three 7-line stanzas, with a refrain; the refrain is—'For of all good she is the best living.' The envoy consists of only six lines, instead of seven, rimed a b a b c c, and that for a sufficient reason, which has not been hitherto observed. The initial letters of the lines form, in fact, an anagram on the name Alison; which is therefore the name of the lady to whom the Balade is addressed. There is a copy of this poem in MS. Fairfax 16, and another in MS. Tanner 346. It is therefore as old as the 15th century. But to attribute to Chaucer the fourth line of the Envoy seems hazardous. It runs thus—'Suspiries whiche I effunde in silence.' Perhaps it is Hoccleve's.

38. Poem in two 7-line stanzas. There is nothing to connect this with Chaucer; and it is utterly unworthy of him. I now quote the whole poem, just as it stands in the edition of 1561:—

In l. 7, ed. 1532 has almesse instead of almose. Surely it must be Lydgate's. Many of his poems exhibit similar catalogues, if I may so term them.

I have now gone through all the poems published in 1532 and copied into the later editions (with the exception of nos. 66-68, for which see p. 45); and I see no way of augmenting the list of Chaucer's Minor Poems any further from this source. [41]

It is hardly worth while to discuss at length all the poems which it pleased John Stowe to fling together into the edition of 1561. But a few remarks may be useful.

Nos. 42, 43, and 60 are admittedly genuine; and are printed below, nos. XIV., XX., and VIII. I believe nos. 44 and 57 to be so also^[225]; they are discussed below, and are printed as nos. XXI. and VI. No. 61 is, of course, Lydgate's. Besides this, no. 45 is correctly ascribed to Lydgate in the MSS.; there are copies of it in MS. Fairfax 16 and in MS. Ashmole 59. No. 56 is also Lydgate's, and is so marked in MS. Harl. 2251. As to no. 46, called the Craft of Lovers, it is dated by help of two lines in the last stanza, which are thus printed by Stowe:—

This seems to give the date as 1348; whereas the language is palpably that of the fifteenth century. Whether Stowe or his printer thought fit to alter the date intentionally, I cannot say. Still, the fact is, that in the MS. marked R. 3. 19 in Trinity College Library, at fol. 156, the reading is 'CCCCXL & VIII yere,' so that the true date is rather 1448, or nearly half a century after Chaucer's death^[226]. The same MS., which I suppose belonged to Stowe, contains several other of these pieces, viz. nos. 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54, 55, 56, and perhaps others. The language and, in some cases, the ruggedness of the metre, forbid us to suppose that Chaucer can have had anything to do with them, and some are palpably of a much later date; one or more of these considerations at once exclude all the rest of Stowe's additions. It may, however, be noted that no. 47 quotes the line 'Beware alwaye, the blind eats many a fly,' which occurs as a refrain in no. 56, and it is therefore later than the time of Lydgate. The author of no. 48 says he is 'a man vnknowne.' Many lines in no. 49 are of abnormal length; it begins with—'Profulgent in preciousnes, O Sinope the queen.' The same is true of no. 51, which is addressed to a Margaret, and begins with—'In the season of Feuerere when it was full colde.' Of no. 52, [42]Tyrwhitt says that the four first stanzas are found in different parts of an imperfect poem upon the Fall of Man, in MS. Harl. 2251; whilst the 11th stanza makes part of an Envoy, which in the same MS. is annexed to the poem entitled the Craft of Lovers. No. 53 is a poor affair. No. 54, called a Balade Pleasaunte, is very unpleasant and scurrilous, and alludes to the wedding of 'queene Iane^[227]' as a circumstance that happened many years ago. No. 55 is scurrilous, odious, and stupid. I doubt if no. 58 is good enough for Lydgate. No. 59 belongs to the sixteenth century.

All the poems here rejected were rejected by Tyrwhitt, with two strange exceptions, viz. nos. 50 and 59, the Virelai and the Court of Love. Of both of these, the language is quite late. The Virelai is interesting from a metrical point of view, because such poems are scarce; the only similar poem that I can call to mind is the Balet (or rather Virelai) composed by Lord Rivers during his imprisonment in 1483, and printed by Percy in his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. Percy says that Lord Rivers copies the Virelai mentioned above, which he assumes to be Chaucer's; but it is quite as likely that the copying was in the other direction, and that Lord Rivers copied some genuine Virelai (either Chaucer's or in French) that is now lost^[228]. The final rime of end with find, is bad enough; but the supposition that the language is of the 14th century is ridiculous. Still the Virelai is good in its way, though it can hardly be older than 1500, and may be still later.

Of all poems that have been falsely ascribed to Chaucer, I know of none more amazing than The Court of Love. The language is palpably that of the 16th century, and there are absolutely no examples of the occurrence in it of a final -e that is fully pronounced, and forms a syllable! Yet there are critics who lose their heads over it, and will not give it up. Tyrwhitt says—'I am induced by the internal evidence (!) to consider it as one of Chaucer's genuine productions.' As if the 'internal evidence' of a poem containing no sonant final -e is not enough to condemn it at once. The original MS. copy exists in MS. R. 3. 19 in Trinity College, and the writing is later than 1500. The poem itself has all the smoothness of the Tudor period^[229]; it excels the style of Hawes, and would do credit [43]to Sackville. One reference is too interesting to be passed over. In the second stanza, the poet regrets that he has neither the eloquence of Tully, the power of Virgil, nor the 'craft of Galfride.' Tyrwhitt explains Galfride as 'Geoffrey of Monmouth,' though it is difficult to understand on what ground he could have been here thought of. Bell's 'Chaucer' explains Galfride as 'Geoffrey of Vinsauf,' which is still more curious; for Geoffrey of Vinsauf is the very Gaufride whom Chaucer holds up to eternal ridicule in the Nonne Prestes Tale (l. 526).

I have no doubt at all that the Galfrid here referred to is no other than Geoffrey Chaucer, who was called, indifferently, Galfrid or Geoffrey. This appears from the testimony of Lydgate, who speaks, in his 'Troy-book,' of 'Noble Galfryde, chefe Poete of Brytayne,' and again, of 'My mayster Galfride'; see Lydgate's Siege of Troye, bk. ii. ch. 15, and bk. iii. ch. 25; ed. 1557, fol. K 2, col. 1, and fol. R 2, back, col. 2. Hence we are not surprised to find that the author makes frequent reference to Chaucer's Works, viz. to Anelida (l. 235), the Death of Pity (701), Troilus (872), the Legend of Good Women (104, 873), and the Parl. of Foules (near the end). The two allusions to the Legend of Good Women at once make the poem later than 1385; and in fact, it must be quite a century later than that date. There are more than 70 rimes that differ from those employed by Chaucer. The Poet introduces to our notice personages named Philogenet, Philobone, and Rosial. Of these, at least the two former savour of the time of the Renaissance; for, although Chaucer uses the name Philostrate in the Knightes Tale (A 1428, 1558, 1728), he merely copies this name from Boccaccio; and it is amusing to find that Boccaccio himself did not understand it.^[230]

We have now to consider the additions made by Speght in 1598. These were only two, viz. Chaucer's Dream and The Flower and the Leaf. [44]

62. Chaucer's Dream. A long poem of 2206 short lines, in metre similar to that of The House of Fame; accepted by Tyrwhitt, and in all the editions. But there is no early trace of it; and we are not bound to accept as Chaucer's a poem first ascribed to him in 1598, and of which the MS. (at Longleat) was written about 1550. The language is of late date, and the sonant final -e is decidedly scarce. The poem is badly named, and may have been so named by Speght; the proper title is 'The Isle of Ladies.' We find such rimes as be, companie (Ch. be, company-e); know, low, i. e. law (Ch. know-e, law-e); grene, yene, i. e. eyes (Ch. gren-e, y-ën); plesaunce, fesaunce (Ch. plesaunc-e, fesaunts); ywis, kisse (Ch. ywis, kis-se); and when we come to destroied riming with conclude, it is time to stop. The tediousness of this poem is appalling^[231].

63. The Flower and the Leaf. This is rather a pretty poem, in 7-line stanzas. The language is that of the fifteenth century. It professes to be written by a gentlewoman, like the Assemble of Ladies; and perhaps it was^[232]. Very likely, the same 'gentlewoman' wrote both these poems. If so, the Flower and the Leaf is the better finished, and probably the later of the two. It contains the word henchman, for which the earliest dated quotation which I have yet found is 1415 (Royal Wills, ed. Nichols, p. 220). An interesting reference is given in the lines—

The order of the Garter was established in 1349; and we should expect that more than half a century would elapse before it would be natural to refer to the Knights as old knights, who did worthily in their time. Of course the poem cannot be Chaucer's, and it is hardly necessary to look for rimes such as he never uses; yet such may easily be found, such as grew, pt. t. sing., riming with the dissyllabic hew-e, new-e; sid-e with espide, pp. (Ch. espy-ed); eie, eye [45](Ch. y-ë) with sie, saw (Ch. sy); and plesure^[233] with desire; after which we may stop.

In 1602, Speght issued another edition, in which, according to Bonn's edition of Lowndes' Bibliographer's Manual, two more pieces were added, viz. the prose treatise against Friars called Jack Upland, and the genuine poem entitled 'A. B. C.' But this is not all; for I find, in a still later edition, that of 1687, which is said to be a 'reimpression of Speght's edition of 1602,' that, at the very end of all the prefatory matter, on what was probably a spare blank leaf, three more poems appear, which might as well have been consigned to oblivion. But the editors of Chaucer evidently thought that a thing once added must be added for ever, and so these three productions are retained in Bell's Chaucer, and must therefore be noticed with the rest. I find, however, that they had been printed previously, viz. at the end of the Table of Contents in ed. 1542 and ed. 1550, where they are introduced quite casually, without a word of explanation. Moreover, they are copied from MS. Trin. Coll. Cam. R. 3. 15, a MS. which also contains the Canterbury Tales; and no doubt, this fact suggested their insertion. See Todd's Illustrations of Chaucer, p. 120.

64. Jack Upland. An invective against friars, in prose, worth printing, but obviously not Chaucer's.

66. Eight goodly questions with their answers; printed in Bell's Chaucer, vol. iv. p. 421; nine 7-line stanzas. In st. 3, tree rimes with profer; but tree is an obvious misprint for cofer! In st. 5, the gerund to lie (Ch. ly-e) rimes with honestie (Ch. honestee). This is quite enough to condemn it. But it may be Lydgate's.

67. To the Kings most noble Grace, and to the Lords and Knights of the Garter; pr. as above, p. 424; eight 8-line stanzas. In MS. Phillipps 8151, and written by Hoccleve; it much resembles his poem printed in Anglia, v. 23. The date may be 1416. The 'King' is Henry V.

68. Sayings. Really three separate pieces. They are all found on the fly-leaf of the small quarto edition of Caxton, described above, p. 27. When Caxton printed Chaucer's Anelida and Purse on a quire of ten leaves, it so happened that he only filled up nine of them. But, after adding explicit at the bottom of the ninth leaf, to shew that he had come to the end of his Chaucer, he thought it a [46]pity to waste space, and so added three popular sayings on the front of leaf 10, leaving the back of it still blank. Here is what he printed:—

The first of these sayings was probably a bit of popular rime, of the character quoted in Shakespeare's King Lear, iii. 2. 81. Shakespeare calls his lines Merlin's prophecy; and it has pleased the editors of Chaucer to call the first six lines Chaucer's Prophecy^[234]. They appear in Bell's Chaucer, vol. iii. p. 427, in an 'improved' form, not worth discussing; and the last eight lines are also printed in the same, vol. iv. p. 426. Why they are separated, is mysterious. Those who think them genuine may thank me for giving them Caxton's spelling instead of Speght's.

In Morris's edition are some pieces which either do not appear in previous editions, or were first printed later than 1700.

69. Roundel; pr. in vol. vi. p. 304. The same as Merciless Beaute; here printed as no. XI. It first appeared, however, in Percy's Reliques of English Poetry. See p. 80 below.

70. The Former Age; pr. in vol. vi. p. 300, for the first time. Here printed as no. IX. See p. 78.

71. Prosperity; pr. in vol. vi. p. 296, for the first time. This is taken from MS. Arch. Selden B. 24, fol. 119, where it follows [47]Chaucer's Poem on 'Truth.' It has but one stanza of eight lines, and I here give it precisely as it stands in this Scottish MS.:—

I have no belief in the genuineness of this piece, though it is not ill written. In general, the ascription of a piece to Chaucer in a MS. is valuable. But the scribe of this particular MS. was reckless. It is he who made the mistake of marking Hoccleve's 'Mother of God' with the misleading remark—'Explicit oracio Galfridi Chaucere.' At fol. 119, back, he gives us a poem beginning 'Deuise prowes and eke humylitee' in seven 7-line stanzas, and here again at the end is the absurd remark—'Quod Chaucer quhen he was rycht auisit.' But he was himself quite 'wrongly advised'; for it is plainly not Chaucer's at all. His next feat is to mark Lydgate's Complaynt of the Black Knight by saying—'Here endith the Maying and disporte of Chaucere'; which shews how the editors were misled as to this poem. Nor is this all; for he gives us, at fol. 137, back, another poem in six 8-line stanzas, beginning 'O hie Emperice and quene celestial'; and here again at the end is his stupid—'Quod Chaucere.' The date of this MS. appears to be 1472; so it is of no high authority; and, unless we make some verbal alteration, we shall have to explain how Chaucer came to write oftsiss in two syllables instead of ofte sythe in four; see his Can. Yem. Tale, Group G, l. 1031.

72. Leaulte vault Richesse; pr. in vol. vi. p. 302, for the first time. This is from the same MS., fol. 138, and is as follows:—

On this poem, I have three remarks to make. The first is that not even the reckless Scottish scribe attributes it to Chaucer. The second is that Chaucer's forms are content and lent without a final e, and repent-e and rent-e with a final -e, so that the poem cannot be his; although content, repent, rent, and lent rime well enough in the Northern dialect. The third is that if I could be sure that the above lines were by a well-known author, I should at once ascribe them to King James I., who might very well have written these and the lines called Prosperity above. It is somewhat of a coincidence that the very MS. here discussed is that in which the unique copy of the Kingis Quair is preserved.

73. Proverbs of Chaucer; printed in vol. vi. p. 303. The first eight lines are genuine; here printed as no. XX. But two 7-line stanzas are added, which are spurious. In MS. Addit. 16165, Shirley tells us that they were 'made by Halsham Esquyer'; but they seem to be Lydgate's, unless he added to them. See Lydgate's Minor Poems (Percy Soc. 1840), pp. 193 and 74. And see pp. 52, 57.

It thus appears that, of the 73 pieces formerly attributed to Chaucer, not more than 26, and a part of a 27th, can be genuine. These are: Canterbury Tales, Troilus, Legend of Good Women, House of Fame, about a quarter of The Romaunt of the Rose, the Minor Poems printed in the present volume and numbered I-XI, XIII-XXI, and two pieces in prose.

After the preceding somewhat tedious, but necessary discussion of the contents of the black-letter and other editions (in many of which poems were as recklessly attributed to Chaucer as medieval proverbs used to be to King Solomon), it is some relief to turn to the manuscripts, which usually afford much better texts, and are altogether more trustworthy.

The following is a list of the MSS. which have been followed. I must here acknowledge my great debt to Dr. Furnivall, whose excellent, careful, and exact reproduction in print of the various MSS. leaves nothing to be desired, and is a great boon to all Chaucer scholars. They are nearly all^[235] printed among the Chaucer [49]Society's publications. At the same time, I desire to say that I have myself consulted most of the MSS., and have thus gleaned a few hints which could hardly have been otherwise acquired; it was by this process that I became acquainted with the poems numbered XXII. and XXIII., which are probably genuine, and with the poem numbered XII., which is certainly so. An editor should always look at the MSS. for himself, if he can possibly contrive to do so.

N.B. The roman numbers following the name of each MS. denote the numbers of the poems in the present edition.

Cx.—Caxton's editions; see above (p. 27).—V. VII. X. XIII. XIV. XVI. (part); XIX.

F.—Fairfax 16, Bodleian Library.—I. II. III. IV. V. VII. X. XIII. (two copies); XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XX. XXI. XXII.

P.—Pepys 2006, Magd. Coll., Cambridge.—I. (two copies); IV. V. VII (part); X. XI. XIII. XVI. XVIII. (two copies); XIX.

T.—Trinity College, Cambridge, R. 3. 20.—IV. VII (part); VIII. X. XIII. (two copies); XIV. XV. XVIII.

Conversely, I here give a list of the Poems in the present volume, shewing from which MSS. each one is derived. I mention first the MSS. of most importance. I also note the number of lines in each piece.

I. A. B. C. (184 lines).—C. Jo. Gl. L. Gg. F.; other copies in H. P.^[237] Bedford. Ha. Sion. B.^[238]

V. Parl. Foules (699).—F. Gg. Trin. Cx. Harl. O. Ff. Tn. D.; also Ar. B. Lt. P.; Hh. (365 lines); Laud (142 lines).

VII. Anelida (357).—Harl. F. Tn. D. Cx.; also B. Lt. Ad.; Harl. 372; partly in T. Ff. P. Ph.

XIII. Truth (28).—At. Gg. E. Ct. T.^[239]; also Arch. Harl. Hat. P. F.^[240] Add. Cx.; Ar. Kk. Corpus; Lansd. 699; Phil.

XV. Lak of Stedfastnesse (28).—Harl. T. Ct. F. Add.; also Th. Ha.; Hat., Trinity, and Bannatyne.

MSS. in Scottish spelling are—Ar. Bannatyne. Kk.; L. shews Northern tendencies.

F. (Fairfax 16) is a valuable MS.; not only does it contain as many as sixteen of these Minor Poems, but it is a fairly written MS. of the fifteenth century. The spelling does not very materially [52]differ from that of such an excellent MS. as the Ellesmere MS. of the Canterbury Tales, excepting in the fact that a great number of final e's are added in wrong places, and are dropped where they are required. This is a matter that can be to a large extent rectified, and I have endeavoured to do so, taking it in many instances as the standard text. Next to this misuse of final e's, which is merely due to the fact that it was written out at a time when the true use of them was already lost, its most remarkable characteristic is the scribe's excessive love of the letter y in place of i; he writes hyt ys instead of hit is, and the like. In a great number of instances I have restored i, where the vowel is short. When the text of the Fairfax MS. is thus restored, it is by no means a bad one. It also contains fair copies of many poems by Hoccleve and Lydgate, such as the former's Letter of Cupide^[242], and the latter's Complaint of the Black Knight, Temple of Glass, and Balade against Women's Doubleness, being the very piece which is introduced into Stowe's edition, and is numbered 45 above (see p. 33). We are also enabled, by comparing this MS. with MS. Harl. 7578, to solve another riddle, viz. why it is that Chaucer's Proverbs, as printed in Morris's and Bell's editions, are followed by two 7-line stanzas which have nothing whatever to do with them. In MS. Harl. 7578 these two stanzas immediately follow, and MS. F. immediately precede Chaucer's Proverbs, and therefore were near enough to them to give an excuse for throwing them in together. However, both these stanzas are by Lydgate, and are mere fragments^[243]. The former of them, beginning 'The worlde so wide, thaire so remuable,' really belongs to a poem of 18 stanzas, printed in Halliwell's edition of Lydgate's Minor Poems (Percy Soc.), p. 193. The latter of them, beginning 'The more I goo, the ferther I am behinde,' belongs to a poem of 11 stanzas, printed in the same, p. 74. Perhaps this will serve as a hint to future editors of Chaucer, from whose works it is high time to exclude poems known to be by some other hand.

In this MS. there is also a curious and rather long poem upon the game of chess; the board is called the cheker, and the pieces are the kyng, the quene or the fers (described on fol. 294), the rokys (duo [53]Roci), the knyghtys, the Awfyns (duo alfini), and the povnys (pedini). This is interesting in connection with the Book of the Duchess; see note to l. 654 of that poem. The author tells us how 'he plaid at the chesse,' and 'was mated of a Ferse.'

B. (Bodley 638) is very closely related to MS. F.; in the case of some of the poems, both must have been drawn from a common source. MS. B. is not a mere copy of F., for it sometimes has the correct reading where F. is wrong; as, e.g. in the case of the reading Bret in the House of Fame, l. 1208. It contains seven of these Minor Poems, as well as The boke of Cupide god of loue (Cuckoo and Nightingale), Hoccleve's Lettre of Cupide god of loue, Lydgate's Temple of Glass (oddly called Temple of Bras (!), a mistake which occurs in MS. F. also), his Ordre of Folys, printed in Halliwell's Minor Poems of Lydgate, p. 164, and his Complaint of the Black Knight, imperfect at the beginning.

A. (Shirley's MS. Ashmole 59) is remarkable for containing a large number of pieces by Lydgate, most of which are marked as his. It corroborates the statement in MS. F. that he wrote the Balade against Women's Doubleness. It contains the whole of Scogan's poem in which Chaucer's Gentilesse is quoted: see the complete print of it, from this MS., in the Chaucer Society's publications.

Another poem in this MS. requires a few words. At the back of leaf 38 is a poem entitled 'The Cronycle made by Chaucier,' with a second title to this effect:—'Here nowe folowe the names of the nyene worshipfullest Ladyes that in alle cronycles and storyal bokes haue beo founden of trouthe of constaunce and vertuous or reproched (sic) womanhode by Chaucier.' The poem consists of nine stanzas of eight lines (in the ordinary heroic metre), and is printed in Furnivall's Odd Text of Chaucer's Minor Poems, Part I. It would be a gross libel to ascribe this poem to Chaucer, as it is very poor, and contains execrable rimes (such as prysoun, bycome; apply-e, pyte; thee, dy-e). But we may easily see that the title is likely to give rise to a misconception. It does not really mean that the poem itself is by Chaucer, but that it gives a brief epitome of the 'Cronicle made by Chaucier' of 'the nyene worshipfullest Ladyes.' And, in fact, it does this. Each stanza briefly describes one of the nine women celebrated in Chaucer's Legend of Good Women. It is sufficient to add that the author makes a ludicrous mistake, which is quite enough to acquit Chaucer of having had any hand in this wholly [54]valueless production; for he actually addresses 'quene Alceste' as sorrowing for 'Seyse her husbande.' Seyse is Chaucer's Ceyx, and Alceste is the author's comic substitution for Alcyone; see Book of the Duchess, l. 220. This is not a fault of the scribe; for Alceste rimes with byheste, whereas Alcione does not. I much suspect that Shirley wrote this poem himself. His verses, in MS. Addit. 16165, are very poor.

Tn. (Tanner 346) is a fair MS. of the 15th century, and contains, besides six of the Minor Poems, the Legend of Good Women, Hoccleve's Letter of Cupid (called litera Cupidinis dei Amoris directa subditis suis Amatoribus), the Cuckoo and Nightingale (called the god of loue), Lydgate's Temple of Glas and Black Knight, &c. One of them is the Ballad no. 32 discussed above (p. 40). At fol. 73 is a poem in thirteen 8-line stanzas, beginning 'As ofte as syghes ben in herte trewe.' One stanza begins with these lines:—

I quote this for the sake of the extremely rare Chaucerian word spelt radevore in the Legend of Good Women. The same line occurs in another copy of the same poem in MS. Ff., fol. 12, back.

Ar. (Arch. Seld. B. 24) is a Scottish MS., apparently written in 1472, and contains, amongst other things, the unique copy of the Kingis Quair, by James I. of Scotland. This is the MS. wherein the scribe attributes pieces to Chaucer quite recklessly: see p. 47. It is also the authority for the pieces called Prosperity and Leaulte vault Richesse. Here, once more, we find the Letter of Cupid and the Cuckoo and Nightingale; it is remarkable how often these poems occur in the same MS. It also contains Troilus and the Legend of Good Women.

D. (Digby 181) contains, besides two of the Minor Poems, an imperfect copy of Troilus; also the Letter of Cupid and Complaint of the Black Knight. At fol. 52 is a piece entitled 'Here Bochas repreuyth hem that yeue hasti credence to euery reporte or tale'; and it begins—'All-though so be in euery maner age'; in nineteen 7-line stanzas. This is doubtless a part of chapter 13 of Book I. of Lydgate's Fall of Princes.

R. (Rawlinson, Poet. 163) contains a copy of Chaucer's Troilus, followed by the Balade to Rosemounde. Both pieces are marked 'Tregentyll' or 'Tregentil' to the left hand, and 'Chaucer' to the right. [55]

Ff. (Ff. 1. 6) contains, besides five of the Minor Poems, many other pieces. One is a copy of Pyramus and Thisbe, being part of the Legend of Good Women. There are four extracts from various parts of Gower's Confessio Amantis; the Cuckoo and Nightingale and Letter of Cupid; the Romance of Sir Degrevaunt; La Belle Dame sans Merci. Some pieces from this MS. are printed in Reliquiae Antiquae, i. 23, 169, 202; and two more, called The Parliament of Love and The Seven Deadly Sins, are printed in Political, Religious, and Love Poems, ed. Furnivall (E. E. T. S.), pp. 48, 215. We also find here a copy of Lydgate's Ballad of Good Counsail, printed in the old editions of Chaucer (piece no. 40; see above, p. 33).

Gg. (Gg. 4. 27) is the MS. which contains so excellent a copy of the Canterbury Tales, printed as the 'Cambridge MS.' in the Chaucer Society's publications. Four leaves are lost at the beginning. On leaf 5 is Chaucer's A. B. C.; on leaf 7, back, the Envoy to Scogan; and on leaf 8, back, Chaucer's Truth, entitled Balade de bone conseyl. This is followed by a rather pretty poem, in 15 8-line stanzas, which is interesting as quoting from Chaucer's Parliament of Foules. Examples are: 'Qui bien ayme tard oublye' (l. 32; cf. P. F. 679): 'The fesaunt, scornere of the cok Be nihter-tyme in frostis colde' (ll. 49, 50; cf. P. F. 357); 'Than spak the frosty feldefare' (l. 89; cf. P. F. 364). Line 41 runs—'Robert redbrest and the wrenne'; which throws some light on the etymology of robin. This valuable MS. also contains Troilus and the Legend of Good Women, with the unique earlier form of the Prologue; The Parlement of Foules; and Lydgate's Temple of Glas. At fol. 467 is a Supplicacio amantis, a long piece of no great value, but the first four lines give pretty clear evidence that the author was well acquainted with Chaucer's Anelida, and aspired to imitate it.

It seems to be a continuation of the Temple of Glas, and is probably Lydgate's own.

Hh. (Camb. Univ. Lib. Hh. 4. 12) contains much of Lydgate, and is fully described in the Catalogue.

P. (Pepys 2006) consists of 391 pages, and contains Lydgate's [56]Complaint of the Black Knight, and Temple of Glass, part of the Legend of Good Women, the A. B. C., House of Fame, Mars and Venus (two copies), Fortune, Parlement of Foules, The Legend of the Three Kings of Cologne, The War between Caesar and Pompey, a Translation of parts of Cato, the Tale of Melibeus and Parson's Tale, Anelida, Envoy to Scogan, A. B. C. (again), Purse, Truth, and Merciless Beauty.

Trin. (Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 3. 19) not only contains two of the Minor Poems, but a large number of other pieces, including the Legend of Good Women and many of Lydgate's Poems. In particular, it is the source of most of Stowe's additions to Chaucer: I may mention The Craft of Lovers, dated 1448 in the MS. (fol. 156), but 1348 in Stowe; the Ten Commandments of Love, Nine Ladies worthy, Virelai (fol. 160), Balade beginning In the seson of Feuerer (fol. 160), Goddesses and Paris (fol. 161, back), A balade plesaunte (fol. 205), O Mossie Quince (fol. 205), Balade beginning Loke well aboute (fol. 207); and The Court of Love; see the pieces numbered 46, 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54, 55, 56, 59, (p. 33). The piece numbered 41 also occurs here, at the end of the Parliament of Foules, and is headed 'Verba translatoris.' One poem, by G. Ashby, is dated 1463, and I suppose most of the pieces are in a handwriting of a later date, not far from 1500. It is clear that Stowe had no better reason for inserting pieces in his edition of Chaucer than their occurrence in this MS. to which he had access. If he had had access to any other MS. of the same character, the additions in his book would have been different, and The Court of Love would never have been 'Chaucer's.' Yet this is the sort of evidence which some accept as being quite sufficient to prove that Chaucer learnt the language of a century after his own date, in order to qualify himself for writing that poem.

Ad. (MS. Addit. 16165). One of Shirley's MSS., marked with his name in large letters. It contains a copy of Chaucer's Boethius; Trevisa's translation of the gospel of Nichodemus; the Maistre of the game (on hunting); the Compleint of the Black Knight and the Dreme of a Lover, both by Lydgate. The latter is the same poem, I suppose, as The Temple of Glas. It is here we learn from Shirley that the Complaint of the Black Knight is Lydgate's. Not only is it headed, on some pages, as 'The complaynte of a knight made by [57]Lidegate,' but on fol. 3 he refers to the same poem, speaking of it as being a complaint—

Here also we find two separate fragments of Anelida^[245]; the two stanzas mentioned above (p. 52, l. 20), called by Shirley 'two verses made in wyse of balade by Halsham, Esquyer'; Chaucer's Proverbs; the poem no. 45 above (p. 33), attributed in this MS. to Lydgate; &c. At fol. 256, back, is the Balade of compleynte printed in this volume as poem no. XXIII.

Add. (MS. Addit. 22139). This is a fine folio MS., containing Gower's Confessio Amantis. At fol. 138 are Chaucer's Purse, Gentilesse, Lak of Stedfastnesse, and Truth.

At. (MS. Addit. 10340). Contains Chaucer's Boethius (foll. 1-40); also Truth, with the unique envoy, and the description of the 'Persone,' from the Canterbury Tales, on fol. 41, recto^[246].

Ct. (MS. Cotton, Cleopatra, D. 7). The Chaucer poems are all on leaves 188, 189. They are all ballads, viz. Gentilesse, Lak of Stedfastness, Truth, and Against Women Unconstaunt. All four are in the same hand; and we may remark that the last of the four is thus, in a manner, linked with the rest; see p. 58, l. 5, p. 26, l. 29.

H. (MS. Harl. 2251). Shirley's MS. contains a large number of pieces, chiefly by Lydgate. Also Chaucer's Prioresses Tale, Fortune (fol. 46), Gentilesse (fol. 48, back), A. B. C. (fol. 49), and Purse (fol. 271). The Craft of Lovers also occurs, and is dated 1459 in this copy. Poem no. 56 (p. 34) also occurs here, and is marked as Lydgate's. We also see from this MS. that the first four stanzas of no. 52 (p. 33) form part of a poem on the Fall of Man, in which Truth, Mercy, Righteousness, and Peace are introduced as allegorical personages. The four stanzas form part of Mercy's plea, and this is why the word mercy occurs ten times. At fol. 153, back (formerly 158, back), we actually find a copy of Henry Scogan's poem in which Chaucer's Gentilesse is not quoted, the requisite stanzas being entirely omitted. At fol. 249, back, Lydgate quotes the line 'this world is a thurghfare ful of woo,' and [58]says it is from Chaucer's 'tragedyes.' It is from the Knightes Tale, l. 1989 (A 2847).

Ha. (Harl. 7578). Contains Lydgate's Proverbs; Chaucer's Pite (fol. 13, back), Gentilesse and Lak of Stedfastnesse (fol. 17), immediately followed by the Balade against Women unconstaunt, precisely in the place where we should expect to find it; also Chaucer's Proverbs, immediately followed by the wholly unconnected stanzas discussed above; p. 52, l. 20. At fol. 20, back, are six stanzas of Chaucer's A. B. C.

Harl. (MS. Harl. 7333). This is a fine folio MS., and contains numerous pieces. At fol. 37, recto, begins a copy of the Canterbury Tales, with a short prose Proem by Shirley; this page has been reproduced in facsimile for the Chaucer Society. At fol. 129, back, begins the Parliament of Foules, at the end of which is the stanza which appears as poem no. 41 in Stowe's edition (see p. 33). Then follow the Broche of Thebes, i. e. the Complaint of Mars, and Anelida. It also contains some of the Gesta Romanorum and of Hoccleve's De Regimine Principum. But the most remarkable thing in this MS. is the occurrence, at fol. 136, of a poem hitherto (as I believe) unprinted, yet obviously (in my opinion) written by Chaucer; see no. XXII. in the present volume. Other copies occur in F. and B.

Sh. (MS. Harl. 78; one of Shirley's MSS.). At fol. 80 begins the Complaint to Pity; on fol. 82 the last stanza of this poem is immediately followed by the poem here printed as no. VI; the only mark of separation is a star-like mark placed upon the line which is drawn to separate one stanza from another. At the end of fol. 83, back, l. 123 of the poem occurs at the bottom of the page, and fol. 84 is gone; so that the last stanza of 10 lines and the ascription to Chaucer in the colophon do not appear in this MS.

MS. Harl. 372. This MS. contains many poems by Lydgate. Also a copy of Anelida; followed by La Belle Dame sans mercy, 'translatid out of Frenche by Sir Richard Ros,' &c.

MS. Lansdowne 699. This MS. contains numerous poems by Lydgate, such as Guy of Warwick, the Dance of Macabre, the Horse, Sheep, and Goose, &c.; and copies of Chaucer's Fortune and Truth.

This piece was first printed in Speght's edition of 1602, with this title: 'Chaucer's A. B. C. called La Priere de Nostre Dame: made, [59]as some say, at the Request of Blanch, Duchesse of Lancaster, as a praier for her priuat vse, being a woman in her religion very deuout.' This is probably a mere guess, founded on the fact that Chaucer wrote the Book of the Duchess. It cannot be literally true, because it is not strictly 'made,' or composed, but only translated. Still, it is just possible that it was translated for her pleasure (rather than use); and if so, must have been written between 1359 and 1369. A probable date is about 1366. In any case, it may well stand first in chronological order, being a translation just of that unambitious character which requires no great experience. Indeed, the translation shews one mark of want of skill; each stanza begins by following the original for a line or two, after which the stanza is completed rather according to the requirements of rime than with an endeavour to render the original at all closely. There are no less than thirteen MS. copies of it; and its genuineness is attested both by Lydgate and Shirley.^[247] The latter marks it with Chaucer's name in the Sion College MS. Lydgate's testimony is curious, and requires a few words of explanation.

Guillaume De Deguilleville, a Cistercian monk in the royal abbey of Chalis^[248], in the year 1330 or 1331^[249], wrote a poem entitled Pèlerinage de la Vie humaine. Of this there are two extant English translations, one in prose and one in verse, the latter being attributed to Lydgate. Of the prose translation^[250] four copies exist, viz. in the MSS. which I call C., Gl., Jo., and L. In all of these, Chaucer's A. B. C. is inserted, in order to give a verse rendering of a similar prayer in verse in the original. Of Lydgate's verse translation there is a copy in MS. Cotton, Vitell. C. xiii. (see foll. 255, 256); and when he comes to the place where the verse prayer occurs in his original, he says that, instead of translating the prayer himself, he will quote Chaucer's translation, observing:—

Curiously enough, he does not do so; a blank space was left in the MS. [60]for the scribe to copy it out, but it was never filled in^[251]. However, it places the genuineness of the poem beyond doubt; and the internal evidence confirms it; though it was probably, as was said, quite an early work.

In order to illustrate the poem fully, I print beneath it the French original, which I copy from the print of it in Furnivall's One-text Print of Chaucer's Minor Poems, Part I. p. 84.

It is taken from Guillaume De Deguilleville's Pèlerinage de l'Ame, Part I, Le Pèlerinage de la Vie humaine. Edited from the MS. 1645, Fonds Français, in the National Library, Paris (A), and collated with the MSS. 1649 (B), 376 (C), and 377 (D), in the same collection, by Paul Meyer. I omit, however, the collations; the reader only wants a good text.

MS. C. affords, on the whole, the best text, and is therefore followed, all variations from it being duly noted in the footnotes, [61]except (occasionally) when i is put for y, or y for i. The scribes are very capricious in the use of these letters, using them indifferently; but it is best to use i when the vowel is short (as a general rule), and y when it is long. Thus, it is is better than yt ys, and wyse than wise, in order to shew that the vowel is long in the latter case. I also use y at the end of a word, as usual; as in lady, my. When the spelling of the MS. is thus slightly amended, it gives a fair text, which can easily be read with the old and true pronunciation.

We may roughly divide the better MSS. into two sets, thus: (a) C. Gl. L. Jo.; (b) F. B. Gg. The rest I have not collated. See Koch, in Anglia, iv. b. 100.

The metre of this poem is worthy of notice. Chaucer uses it again, in the Former Age (IX), Lenvoy to Bukton (XVII), and in the Monkes Tale. More complex examples of it, with repeated rimes, are seen in the Balade to Rosemounde (XII), Fortune (X), and Venus (XVIII). See also the two stanzas on p. 47.

The word compleynt answers to the O. F. complaint, sb. masc., as distinguished from O. F. complainte, sb. fem., and was the technical name, as it were, for a love-poem of a mournful tone, usually addressed to the unpitying loved one. See Godefroy's Old French Dictionary^[254]. Dr. Furnivall's account of this poem begins as follows: 'In seventeen 7-line stanzas: 1 of Proem, 7 of Story, and 9 of Complaint, arranged in three Terns [sets of three] of stanzas; first printed by Thynne in 1532.... The poem looks not easy to construe; but it is clearly a Complaint to Pity, as 5 MSS. read, and not of Pity, as Shirley reads in MS. Harl. 78. This Pity once lived in the heart of the loved-one of the poet.... But in his mistress's heart dwells also Pity's rival, Cruelty; and when the poet, after waiting many years^[255], seeks to declare his love, even before he can do so, he finds that Pity for him is dead in his mistress's heart, Cruelty has prevailed, and deprived him of her.' His theory is, that this poem is Chaucer's earliest original work, and relates to his own feelings of hopeless love; also, that Chaucer was not married till 1374, when he married his namesake Philippa Chaucer^[256]. If [62]this be so, a probable conjectural date for this poem is about 1367. I have remarked, in the note to l. 14, that the allegory of the poem is somewhat confused; and this implies a certain want of skill and clearness, which makes the supposition of its being an early work the more probable^[257]. It is extremely difficult to determine to what extent the sentiments are artificial. If a French poem of a similar character should one day be found, it would not be very surprising. Meanwhile, it is worth observing that the notion of personifying Pity is taken from Chaucer's favourite author Statius; see the Thebaid, bk. xi. 458-496, and compare the context, ll. 1-457. It is this which enables us to explain the word Herenus in l. 92, which is an error for Herines, the form used by Chaucer to denote the Erinnyes or Furies^[258]. The Erinnyes are mentioned in Statius, Theb. xi. 345 (cf. ll. 58, 60, 383); and Statius leads up to the point of the story where it is an even chance whether there will be peace or war. The Furies urge on the combatants to war; and at this crisis, the only power who can overrule them is Pietas, personified by Statius for this express purpose (ll. 458, 465, 466). The struggle between Pity and Cruelty in Chaucer's poem is parallel to the struggle between Pietas and the fury Tisiphone as told in Statius. Pity is called Herines quene, or queen of the Furies, because she alone is supposed to be able to control them. See my notes to ll. 57, 64, and 92.

The poem is extant in nine MSS. It is attributed to Chaucer by Shirley in MS. 'Sh.,' and the internal evidence confirms this. There is a fairly good copy in MS. F., on which my edition of it is based. There is, further, an excellent critical edition of this poem by Prof. Ten Brink, in Essays on Chaucer, Part II, p. 170 (Chaucer Soc.); this I carefully consulted after making my own copy, and I found that the differences were very slight. The least valuable MSS. seem to be Ff., Ph., and Lt. Omitting these, the MSS. may be divided into three sets, viz. A, Ba, and Bb, the two last going back to a common source B. These are: (A.)—Sh. Ha.; (Ba.)—F. B.; (Bb.)—Tn. Trin. See Koch, in Anglia, iv. b. 96.

In this poem we have the earliest example, in English, of the famous 7-line stanza. [63]

Here we are on firm ground. The genuineness of this poem has never been doubted. It is agreed that the word Whyte in l. 948, which is given as the name of the lady lately dead, is a translation of Blanche, and that the reference is to the wife of the Duke of Lancaster (John of Gaunt), who died Sept. 12, 1369, at the age of twenty-nine, her husband being then of the same age. As the poem would naturally be written soon after this event, the date must be near the end of 1369. In fact, John of Gaunt married again in 1372, whereas he is represented in the poem as being inconsolable. Chaucer's own testimony, in the Legend of Good Women, l. 418, is that he made 'the deeth of Blaunche the Duchesse'; and again, in the Introduction to the Man of Law's Prologue, l. 57, that 'In youthe he made of Ceys and Alcion.' In 1369, Chaucer was already twenty-nine years of age (taking the year of his birth to be 1340, not 1328), which is rather past the period of youth; and the fact that he thus mentions 'Ceys and Alcion' as if it were the name of an independent poem, renders it almost certain that such was once the case. He clearly thought it too good to be lost, and so took the opportunity of inserting it in a more ambitious effort. The original 'Ceys and Alcion' evidently ended at l. 220; where it began, we cannot say, for the poem was doubtless revised and somewhat altered. Ll. 215, 216 hint that a part of it was suppressed. The two subjects were easily connected, the sorrow of Alcyone for the sudden and unexpected loss of her husband being the counterpart of the sorrow of the duke for the loss of his wife. The poem of 'Ceys and Alcion' shews Chaucer under the influence of Ovid, just as part of his Complaint to Pity was suggested by Statius; but in the later part of the poem of the Book of the Duchesse we see him strongly influenced by French authors, chiefly Guillaume de Machault and the authors of Le Roman de la Rose. His familiarity with the latter poem (as pointed out in the notes) is such as to prove that he had already been previously employed in making his translation of that extremely lengthy work, and possibly quotes lines from his own translation^[259]. [64]

The relationship between the MSS. and Thynne's edition has been investigated by Koch, in Anglia, vol. iv. Anzeiger, p. 95, and by Max Lange, in his excellent dissertation entitled Untersuchungen über Chaucer's Boke of the Duchesse, Halle, 1883. They both agree in representing the scheme of relationship so as to give the following result:

Here α represents a lost original MS., and β and γ are lost MSS. derived from it. Thynne follows β; whilst γ is followed by the Tanner MS. and a lost MS. δ. The Fairfax and Bodley MSS., which are much alike, are copies of δ. The MS. γ had lost a leaf, containing ll. 31-96; hence the same omission occurs in the three MSS. derived from it. However, a much later hand has filled in the gap in MS. F, though it remains blank in the other two MSS. On the whole, the authorities for this poem are almost unusually poor; I have, in general, followed MS. F, but have carefully amended it where the other copies seemed to give a better result. Lange gives a useful set of 'Konjecturen,' many of which I have adopted. I have also adopted, thankfully, some suggestions made by Koch and Ten Brink; others I decline, with thanks.

This poem is written in the common metre of four accents, which was already in use before Chaucer's time, as in the poem of Havelok the Dane, Robert of Brunne's Handling Synne, Hampole's Pricke of Conscience, &c. Chaucer only used it once afterwards, viz. in his House of Fame. It is the metre employed also in his translation (as far as we have it) of the French Roman de la Rose.

Lydgate tells us that this poem is Chaucer's, referring to it as containing the story of 'the broche which that Vulcanus At Thebes wrought,' &c. Internal evidence clearly shews that it was written by the author of the Treatise on the Astrolabie. In MS. Harl. 7333, Shirley gives it the title 'The broche of Thebes, as of the love of Mars and Venus.' Bale oddly refers to this poem as De Vulcani veru, but broche is here an ornament, not a spit. With the exception of two lines and a half (ll. 13-15), the whole poem is supposed to be sung by a bird, and upon St. Valentine's day. Such a contrivance [65]shews a certain lack of skill, and is an indication of a comparatively early date. The poem begins in the ordinary 7-line stanza, rimed a b a b b c c; but the Complaint itself is in 9-line stanzas, rimed a a b a a b b c c, and exhibits a considerable advance in rhythmical skill. This stanza, unique in Chaucer, was copied by Douglas (Palace of Honour, part 3), and by Sir D. Lyndesay (Prol. to Testament of Papyngo).

At the end of the copy of this poem in MS. T., Shirley appends the following note:—'Thus eondethe here this complaint, whiche some men sayne was made by [i. e. with respect to] my lady of York, doughter to the kyng of Spaygne, and my lord huntingdon, some tyme Duc of Excestre.' This tradition may be correct, but the intrigue between them was discreditable enough, and would have been better passed over in silence than celebrated in a poem, in which Mars and Venus fitly represent them. In the heading to the poem in the same MS., Shirley tells us further, that it was written to please John of Gaunt. The heading is:—'Loo, yee louers, gladethe and comfortethe you of thallyance etrayted^[260] bytwene the hardy and furyous Mars the god of armes and Venus the double [i. e. fickle] goddesse of loue; made by Geffrey Chaucier, at the comandement of the renommed and excellent Prynce my lord the Duc Iohn of Lancastre.' The lady was John of Gaunt's sister-in-law. John of Gaunt married, as his second wife, in 1372, Constance, elder daughter of Pedro, king of Castile; whilst his brother Edmund, afterwards duke of York, married Isabel, her sister. In Dugdale's Baronage, ii. 154, we read that this Isabel, 'having been somewhat wanton in her younger years, at length became a hearty penitent; and departing this life in 1394, was buried in the Friers Preachers at Langele,' i. e. King's Langley in Hertfordshire; cf. Chauncy's Hertfordshire, p. 455; Camden's Anglica, p. 350. It is possible that Chaucer addressed his Envoy to the Complaint of Venus to the same lady, as he calls her 'Princess.'

Mars is, accordingly, intended to represent John Holande, half-brother to Richard II, Earl of Huntingdon, and afterwards Duke of Exeter. He actually married John of Gaunt's daughter, Elizabeth, whose mother was the Blaunche celebrated in the Book of the Duchess.

If this tradition be true, the date of the poem must be not very many years after 1372, when the Princess Isabel came to England. [66]We may date it, conjecturally, about 1374. See further in Furnivall's Trial Forewords, pp. 78-90. I may add that an attempt has been made to solve the problem of the date of this poem by astronomy (see Anglia, ix. 582). It is said that Mars and Venus were in conjunction on April 14, 1379. This is not wholly satisfactory; for Chaucer seems to refer to the 12th of April as the time of conjunction. If we accept this result, then the year was 1379. The date 1373-9 is near enough.

The poem is remarkable for its astronomical allusions, which are fully explained in the notes. The story of Mars and Venus was doubtless taken from Ovid, Metam. iv. 170-189. The story of the brooch of Thebes is from Statius, ii. 265, &c.; see note to l. 245.

I shall here add a guess of mine which possibly throws some light on Chaucer's reason for referring to the brooch of Thebes. It is somewhat curious that the Princess Isabel, in a will made twelve years before her death, and dated Dec. 6, 1382, left, amongst other legacies, 'to the Duke of Lancaster, a Tablet of Jasper which the King of Armonie gave her'; see Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 82. Here Armonie means, of course, Armenia; but it is also suggestive of Harmonia, the name of the first owner of the brooch of Thebes. It seems just possible that the brooch of Thebes was intended to refer to this tablet of jasper, which was doubtless of considerable value and may have been talked about as being a curiosity.

MSS. F. Tn. and Lt. are much alike; the rest vary. I follow F. mainly, in constructing the text.

This poem is undoubtedly genuine; both Chaucer and Lydgate mention it. It is remarkable as being the first of the Minor Poems which exhibits the influence upon Chaucer of Italian literature, and was therefore probably written somewhat later than the Complaint of Mars. It is also the first of the Minor Poems in which touches of true humour occur; see ll. 498-500, 508, 514-6, 563-575, 589-616. Dr. Furnivall (Trial Forewords, p. 53) notes that the MSS. fall into two principal groups; in the first he places Gg., Trin., Cx., Harl., O., the former part of Ff., (part of) Ar., and the fragments in Hh. and Laud 416; in the second he places F., Tn., D., and the latter part of Ff. Lt. also belongs to the second group. See further [67]in Anglia, vol. iv. Anzeiger, p. 97. The whole poem, except the Roundel in ll. 680-692, is in Chaucer's favourite 7-line stanza, often called the ballad-stanza, or simply balade in the MSS.

The poem itself may be roughly divided into four parts. The first part, ll. 1-84, is mainly occupied with an epitome of the general contents of Cicero's Somnium Scipionis. The second part, ll. 85-175, shews several instances of the influence of Dante, though the stanza containing ll. 99-105 is translated from Claudian. The third part, ll. 176-294, is almost wholly translated or imitated from Boccaccio's Teseide. And the fourth part, ll. 295 to the end, is occupied with the real subject of the poem, the main idea being taken, as Chaucer himself tells us, from Alanus de Insulis. The passages relating to the Somnium Scipionis are duly pointed out in the notes; and so are the references to Dante and Claudian. The history of the third and fourth parts requires further explanation.

We have already seen that Chaucer himself tells us, in the Prol. to the Legend, 420, that he made—'al the love of Palamon and Arcyte Of Thebes, thogh the story is knowen lyte.' (N.B. This does not mean that Chaucer's version of the story was 'little known,' but that Boccaccio speaks of the story as being little known—'che Latino autor non par ne dica'; see note to Anelida, l. 8.) Now, in the first note on Anelida and Arcite, it is explained how this story of Palamon and Arcite was necessarily translated, more or less closely, from Boccaccio's Teseide, and was doubtless written in the 7-line stanza; also that fragments of it are preserved to us (1) in sixteen stanzas of the Parliament of Foules, (2) in the first ten stanzas of Anelida, and (3) in three stanzas of Troilus. At a later period, the whole poem was re-written in a different metre, and now forms the Knightes Tale. The sixteen stanzas here referred to begin at l. 183 (the previous stanza being also imitated from a different part of the Teseide, bk. xi. st. 24), and end at l. 294. Chaucer has somewhat altered the order; see note to l. 183. I here quote, from Furnivall's Trial Forewords, pp. 60-66, a translation by Mr. W. M. Rossetti, of Boccaccio's Teseide, bk. vii. stanzas 51-66; and I give, beneath it, the Italian text, from an edition published at Milan in 1819. This passage can be compared with Chaucer's imitation of it at the reader's leisure.

I note, beforehand, that, in the first line of this translation, the word whom refers to Vaghezza, i. e. Grace, Allurement; whilst she is the prayer of Palemo, personified. [68]

At l. 298 we are introduced to a queen, who in l. 303 is said to be the noble goddess Nature. The general idea is taken from Aleyn's Pleynt of Kynde (l. 316), i. e. from the Planctus Naturae of Alanus de Insulis; see note to l. 298 of the poem. I here quote the most essential passage from the Anglo-Latin Satirical Poets, ed. T. Wright, ii. 437. It describes the garment worn by the goddess Nature, on which various birds were represented. The phrase animalium [74]concilium may have suggested the name given by Chaucer to our poem. But see the remark on p. 75, l. 21.

As to the date of this poem, Ten Brink (Studien, p. 127) shews that it must have been written later than 1373; and further, that it [75]was probably written earlier than Troilus, which seems to have been finished in 1383. It may therefore have been written in 1382, in which case it may very well refer to the betrothal (in 1381) of King Richard II to Queen Anne of Bohemia. See, on this subject, Dr. Koch's discussion of the question in Essays on Chaucer, p. 407, published by the Chaucer Society. Prof. Ward (who follows Koch) in his Life of Chaucer, p. 86, says:—'Anne of Bohemia, daughter of the great Emperor Charles IV., and sister of King Wenceslas, had been successively betrothed to a Bavarian prince and to a Margrave of Meissen, before—after negotiations which, according to Froissart, lasted a year^[261]—her hand was given to young King Richard II. of England. This sufficiently explains the general scope of the Assembly of Fowls, an allegorical poem written on or about St. Valentine's Day, 1381^[262]—eleven months or nearly a year after which date the marriage took place^[263].'

I here note that Lydgate's Flour of Curtesie is a palpable imitation of the Parliament of Foules; so also is the earlier part of his Complaint of the Black Knight.

On the other hand, it is interesting to find, in the Poésies de Marie de France, ed. Roquefort, Paris, 1820, that Fable 22 (vol. i. p. 130) is entitled:—'Li parlemens des Oiseax por faire Roi.' In this fable, the Birds reject the Cuckoo, and choose the Eagle as king.

We may fairly say that this poem is attributed to Chaucer by Shirley, since in MS. Harl. 78 it is copied out by him as if it were a continuation of the Complaint to Pity, and the pages are, throughout, headed with the words—'The Balade of Pytee. By Chauciers.' Stowe implies that he had seen more than one MS. copy of this poem, and says that 'these verses were compiled by Geffray Chauser,' for which he may have found authority in the MSS.^[264] Moreover, the [76]internal evidence settles the matter. It is evident that we have here a succession of metrical experiments, the last of which exhibits a ten-line stanza resembling the nine-line stanza of his Anelida; in fact, we here have that Complaint in a crude form, which was afterwards elaborated; see the references, in the Notes, to the corresponding passages in that poem. But a very great and unique interest is attached to lines 16 to 43. For here we have the sole example, in English literature of that period, of the use of terza rima, obviously copied from Dante; and Chaucer was the only writer who then had a real acquaintance with that author. I know of no other example of the use of this metre before the time of Lord Surrey and Sir Thomas Wiat, when Englishmen once more sought acquaintance with Italian poetry. Consequently, we have here the pleasure of seeing how Chaucer handled Dante's metre; and the two fragments here preserved shew that he might have handled it quite successfully if he had persevered in doing so.

It is to be regretted that Shirley's spelling is so indifferent; he was rather an amateur than a professional scribe. Some of his peculiarities may be noticed, as they occur not only here, but also in the two last pieces, nos. XXII. and XXIII. He constantly adds a final e in the wrong place, producing such forms fallethe, howe, frome, and the like, and drops it where it is necessary, as in hert (for herte). He is fond of eo for ee or long e, as in beo, neodethe. He writes ellas for allas; also e in place of the prefix y-, as in eknytte for y-knit. This last peculiarity is extremely uncommon. I have removed the odd effect which these vagaries produce, and I adopt the ordinary spelling of MSS. that resemble in type the Ellesmere MS. of the Canterbury Tales.

This piece exhibits three distinct metres, viz. the 7-line stanza, terza rima, and the 10-line stanza. Of the last, which is extremely rare, we have here the earliest example. Lines 56 and 59 are lost, and some others are imperfect.

The genuineness of this poem is obvious enough, and is vouched for both by Lydgate and Shirley, as shewn above. It is further [77]discussed in the Notes. I may add that Lydgate incidentally refers to it in his Complaint of the Black Knight, l. 379:—'Of Thebes eke the false Arcite.' Much later allusions are the following:—

The first three stanzas are from Boccaccio's Teseide, as shewn in the Notes; so also are stanzas 8, 9, and 10. Stanzas 4-7 are partly from Statius. The origin of ll. 71-210 is at present unknown. It is difficult to date this poem, but it must be placed after 1373, because of its quotations from the Teseide, or rather from Chaucer's own Palamon and Arcite. The mention of 'the quene of Ermony' in l. 72 suggests that Chaucer's thoughts may have been turned towards Armenia by the curious fact that, in 1384, the King of Armenia came to England about Christmas time, stayed two months, and was hospitably entertained by King Richard at Eltham; see Fabyan's Chronicles, ed. Ellis, p. 532. At an earlier time, viz. in 1362, Walsingham says that some knights of Armenia appeared at a tournament in Smithfield. In the Transactions of the Cambridge Philological Society, May 13, 1886, there is a short paper by Prof. Cowell, from which we learn that Mr. Bradshaw believed the name of Anelida to be identical 'with Anáhita (Ἀναΐτις), the ancient goddess of Persia and Armenia.... He supposed that Chaucer got the name Anelida from a misreading of the name Anaetidem or Anaetida in some Latin MS., the t being mistaken for l.' We must remember that Creseide represents a Greek accusative form Χρυσηΐδα, of which the gen. Χρυσηΐδος occurs in Homer, Il. i. 111; and perhaps the form Dalida (for Dalilah) in the Septuagint is also due to association with Greek accusatives in -ιδα. The genitive Anaetidos occurs in Pliny, xxxiii. 4; in Holland's translation of Pliny, ii. 470, she appears as 'the goddesse Diana syrnamed Anaitis.' It may be as well to explain to those who are unaccustomed to MSS. of the fourteenth century, that it was then usual to write e in place of ae or æ, so that the name would usually be written, in the accusative case, Anetida. This suggests that Anelida should be spelt with but one n; and such is the practice of all the better MSS. [78]

It remains to be added that one source of the part of the poem called the Complaint (ll. 211-350) is the piece printed in this volume as no. VI. That piece is, in fact, a kind of exercise in metrical experiments, and exhibits specimens of a 10-line stanza, resembling the nine-line stanza of this Complaint. Chaucer seems to have elaborated this into a longer Complaint, with additional varieties in the metre; and then to have written the preceding story by way of introduction. One line (vi. 50) is repeated without alteration (vii. 237); another (vi. 35) is only altered in the first and last words (vii. 222). Other resemblances are pointed out in the Notes.

It is also worth while to notice how the character of the speaking falcon in the second part of the Squire's Tale is precisely that of Anelida. The parallel lines are pointed out in the Notes. The principal MSS. may be thus grouped: Aa.—F. B. Ab.—Tn. D. Lt. B.—Harl. Cx. Here A and B are two groups, of which the former is subdivided into Aa and Ab. See Koch, in Anglia, iv. b. 102.

This is evidently a genuine poem, written by the author of the translation of Boethius and of the story of Troilus.

First printed in 1866, in Morris's Chaucer, from a transcript made by Mr. Bradshaw, who pointed out its genuineness. It is ascribed to Chaucer in both MSS., and belongs, in fact, to his translation of Boethius, though probably written at a later date. In MS. I. the poem is headed:—'Chawcer vp-on this fyfte metur of the second book.' In MS. Hh., the colophon is: 'Finit Etas prima: Chaucers.' Dr. Koch thinks that the five poems here numbered IX. X. XIII-XV. 'form a cyclus, as it were, being free transcriptions of different passages in Boethius' Consolatio Philosophiae.' There is, in fact, a probability that these were all written at about the same period, and that rather a late one, some years after the prose translation of Boethius had been completed; and a probable date for this completion is somewhere about 1380.

Both MS. copies are from the same source, as both of them omit the same line, viz. l. 56; which I have had to supply by conjecture. Neither of the MSS. are well spelt, nor are they very [79]satisfactory. The mistake in riming l. 47 with l. 43 instead of l. 45 may very well have been due to an oversight on the part of the poet himself. But the poem is a beautiful one, and admirably expressed; and its inclusion among the Minor Poems is a considerable gain.

Dr. Furnivall has printed the Latin text of Boethius, lib. ii. met. 5, from MS. I., as well as Chaucer's prose version of the same, for the sake of comparison with the text of the poem. The likeness hardly extends beyond the first four stanzas. I here transcribe that part of the prose version which is parallel to the poem, omitting a few sentences which do not appear there at all; for the complete text, see vol. ii.

'Blisful was the first age of men. They helden hem apayed with the metes that the trewe feldes broughten furthe. They ne distroyede nor deceivede not hem-self with outrage. They weren wont lightly to slaken hir hunger at even with acornes of okes. [Stanza 2.] They ne coude nat medly^[265] the yifte of Bachus to the clere hony; that is to seyn, they coude make no piment nor clarree. [Stanza 3.] ... they coude nat deyen whyte fleeses^[266] of Serien contree with the blode of a maner shelfisshe that men finden in Tyrie, with whiche blode men deyen purpur. [Stanza 6.] They slepen hoolsum slepes upon the gras, and dronken of the renninge wateres [cf. l. 8]; and layen under the shadwes of the heye pyn-trees. [Stanza 3, continued.] Ne no gest ne no straungere ne carf yit the heye see with ores or with shippes; ne they ne hadde seyn yit none newe strondes, to leden marchaundyse in-to dyverse contrees. Tho weren the cruel clariouns ful hust^[267] and ful stille.... [Stanza 4.] For wherto or whiche woodnesse of enemys wolde first moeven armes, whan they seyen cruel woundes, ne none medes^[268] be of blood y-shad^[269]?... Allas! what was he that first dalf^[270] up the gobetes^[271] or the weightes of gold covered under erthe, and the precious stones that wolden han ben hid? He dalf up precious perils; ... for the preciousnesse of swiche thinge, hath many man ben in peril.'

Attributed to Chaucer by Shirley in MSS. A. and T.; also marked as Chaucer's in MSS. F. and I. In MS. I., this poem and [80]the preceding are actually introduced into Chaucer's translation of Boethius, between the fifth metre and the sixth prose of the second book, as has been already said. The metre is the same as that of the ABC and The Former Age, but the same rimes run through three stanzas. The Envoy forms a 7-line stanza, but has only two rimes; the formula is ababbab. For further remarks, see the Notes.

The unique copy of this poem is in MS. P^[272]. It is the last poem in the MS., and is in excellent company, as it immediately follows several other of Chaucer's genuine poems^[273]. This is probably why Bp. Percy attributed it to Chaucer, who himself tells us that he wrote 'balades, roundels, virelayes.' It is significant that Mätzner, in his Altenglische Sprachproben, i. 347, chose this poem alone as a specimen of the Minor Poems. It is, in fact, most happily expressed, and the internal evidence places its authenticity beyond question. The three roundels express three 'movements,' in the poet's usual manner; and his mastery of metre is shewn in the use of the same rime in -en-e in the first and third roundels, requiring no less than ten different words for the purpose; whilst in the second roundel the corresponding lines end in -eyn-e, producing much the same effect, if (as is probable) the old sounds of e and ey were not very different. We at once recognise the Chaucerian phrases I do no fors (see Cant. Ta. D 1234, 1512), and I counte him not a bene (see Troil. v. 363).

Very characteristic is the use of the dissyllabic word sen-e (l. 10), which is an adjective, and means 'manifest,' from the A. S. geséne, (gesýne), and not the past participle, which is y-seen. Chaucer rimes it with clen-e (Prol. to C. T. 134), and with gren-e (Kn. Tale, A 2298). The phrase though he sterve for the peyne (l. 23) reminds us of for to dyen in the peyne (Kn. Ta. A 1133).

But the most curious thing about this poem is the incidental testimony of Lydgate, in his Ballade in Commendacion of our Ladie; [81]see poem no. 26 above, discussed at p. 38. I here quote st. 22 in full, from ed. 1561, fol. 330:

I ought to add that this poem is the only one which I have admitted into the set of Minor Poems (nos. I-XX) with incomplete external evidence. If it is not Chaucer's, it is by some one who contrived to surpass him in his own style. And this is sufficient excuse for its appearance here.

Moreover, Lydgate's testimony is external evidence, in a high degree. Even the allusion in l. 27 to the Roman de la Rose points in the same direction; and so does Chaucer's statement that he wrote roundels. Excepting that in the Parl. of Foules, ll. 680-692, and the three here given, no roundels of his have ever been found^[274].

This poem was discovered by me in the Bodleian Library on the 2nd of April, 1891. It is written on a fly-leaf at the end of MS. Rawlinson Poet. 163, which also contains a copy of Chaucer's Troilus. At the end of the 'Troilus' is the colophon: 'Here endith the book of Troylus and of Cresseyde.' This colophon is preceded by 'Tregentyll,' and followed by 'Chaucer.' On the next leaf (no. 114) is the Balade, without any title, at the foot of which is 'Tregentil'——'Chaucer,' the two names being written at a considerable distance apart. I believe 'Tregentil' to represent the name of the scribe^[275]. In any case, 'Chaucer' represents the name of the author. It is a happy specimen of his humour. [82]

This famous poem is attributed to Chaucer in MS. F., also (thrice) by Shirley, who in one of the copies in MS. T. (in which it occurs twice) calls it a 'Balade that Chaucier made on his deeth-bedde'; which is probably a mere bad guess^[276]. The MSS. may be divided into two groups; the four best are in the first group, viz. At., E., Gg., Ct., and the rest (mostly) in the second group. Those of the first group have the readings Tempest (8), Know thy contree (19), and Hold the hye wey (20); whilst the rest have, in the same places, Peyne (8), Look up on hy (19), and Weyve thy lust (20). It is remarkable that the Envoy occurs in MS. At. only. It may have been suppressed owing to a misunderstanding of the word vache (cow), the true sense of which is a little obscure. The reference is to Boethius, bk. v. met. 5, where it is explained that quadrupeds look down upon the earth, whilst man alone looks up towards heaven; cf. lok up in l. 19 of the poem. The sense is therefore, that we should cease to look down, and learn to look up like true men; 'only the linage of man,' says Chaucer, in his translation of Boethius, 'heveth heyeste his heye heved^[277] ... this figure amonesteth^[278] thee, that axest the hevene with thy righte visage, and hast areysed thy fore-heved to beren up a-heigh thy corage, so that thy thoght ne be nat y-hevied^[279] ne put lowe under fote.'

It is curious that this Balade not only occurs as an independent poem, as in MSS. T., Harl., Ct., and others, but is also quoted bodily in a poem by Henry Scogan in MS. A. It is attributed to Chaucer by Shirley in MSS. T. and Harl.; and still more satisfactory is the account given of it by Scogan. The title of Scogan's poem is:—'A moral balade made by Henry Scogan squyer. Here folowethe nexst a moral balade to my lorde the Prince, to my lord of Clarence, to my lord of Bedford, and to my lorde of Gloucestre; by Henry Scogan, at a souper of feorthe merchande (sic) in the vyntre in London, at the hous of Lowys Iohan.' It is printed in all the [83]old editions of Chaucer; see poem no. 33, p. 32. Scogan tells us that he was 'fader,' i. e. tutor, to the four sons of Henry IV. above-mentioned^[280]. His ballad is in twenty-one 8-line stanzas, and he inserts Chaucer's Gentilesse, distinguished by being in 7-line stanzas, between the 13th and 14th stanzas of his own work. He refers to Chaucer in the 9th stanza thus (in MS. A.):—

This is a reference to ll. 16, 17 of Chaucer's poem. Again, in his 13th stanza, he says:—

He here refers to lines 15-17, and lines 1-4 of Chaucer's poem; and then proceeds to quote it in full. Having done so, he adds:—

Scogan's advice is all good; and, though he accuses himself of having misspent his youth, this may very well mean no more than such an expression means in the mouth of a good man. He is doubtless the very person to whom Chaucer's 'Lenvoy a Scogan' was addressed, and Chaucer (l. 21) there gives him an excellent character for wisdom of speech. Accordingly, he is not to be confused with the Thomas Scogan or Scogin to whom is attributed an idle book called 'Scoggins Iests,' which were said to have been 'gathered' by Andrew Boord or Borde, author of the Introduction of Knowledge^[281]. When [84]Shakespeare, in 2 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 33, says that Sir John Falstaff broke Scogan's head, he was no doubt thinking of the supposed author of the jest-book, and may have been led, by observation of the name in a black-letter edition of Chaucer, to suppose that he lived in the time of Henry IV. This was quite enough for his purpose, though it is probable that the jester lived in the time of Edward IV.; see Tyrwhitt's note on the Envoy to Scogan. On the other hand, we find Ben Jonson taking his ideas about Scogan solely from Henry Scogan's poem and Chaucer's Envoy, without any reference to the jester. See his Masque of the Fortunate Isles, in which Scogan is first described and afterwards introduced. The description tells us nothing more than we know already.

As for Lewis John (p. 82), Tyrwhitt says he was a Welshman, 'who was naturalised by Act of Parliament, 2 Hen. V., and who was concerned with Thomas Chaucer in the execution of the office of chief butler; Rot. Parl. 2 Hen. V. n. 18.'

Caxton's printed edition of this poem seems to follow a better source than any of the MSS.

Attributed to Chaucer by Shirley in MSS. Harl. and T., and sent to King Richard at Windsor, according to the same authority. The general idea of it is from Boethius; see the Notes. Shirley refers it to the last years of Richard II., say 1397-9. We find something very like it in Piers Plowman, C. iv. 203-210, where Richard is told that bribery and wicked connivance at extortion have almost brought it about—

In any case, the date can hardly vary between wider limits than between 1393 and 1399. Richard held a tournament at Windsor in 1399^[282], which was but thinly attended; 'the greater part of the knights and squires of England were disgusted with the king.'

This piece is attributed to Chaucer in all three MSS., viz. F., P., and Gg.; and is obviously genuine. The probable date of it is towards the end of 1393; see the Notes.

This piece is certainly genuine. In MS. F., the title is—'Lenvoy de Chaucer a Bukton.' In Julian Notary's edition it is—'Here foloweth the counceyll of Chaucer touching Maryag, &c. whiche was sente te (sic) Bucketon, &c.' In all the other early printed editions it is inserted without any title immediately after the Book of the Duchess.

The poem is one of Chaucer's latest productions, and may safely be dated about the end of the year 1396. This appears from the reference, in l. 23, to the great misfortune it would be to any Englishmen 'to be take in Fryse,' i. e. to be taken prisoner in Friesland. There is but one occasion on which this reference could have had any point, viz. during or just after the expedition of William of Hainault to Friesland, as narrated by Froissart in his Chronicles, bk. iv. capp. 78, 79. He tells that William of Hainault applied to Richard II. for assistance, who sent him 'some men-at-arms and two hundred archers, under the command of three English lords^[283].' The expedition set out in August, 1396, and stayed in Friesland about five weeks, till the beginning of October, when 'the weather began to be very cold and to rain almost daily.' The great danger of being taken prisoner in Friesland was because the Frieslanders fought so desperately that they were seldom taken prisoners themselves. Then 'the Frieslanders offered their prisoners in exchange, man for man; but, when their enemies had none to give in return, they put them to death.' Besides this, the prisoners had to endure all the miseries of a bad and cold season, in an inclement climate. Hence the propriety of Chaucer's allusion fully appears. From l. 8, we learn that Chaucer was now a widower; for the word eft means 'again.' His wife is presumed to have died in the latter part of 1387. We should also observe the allusion to the Wife of Bath's Tale in l. 29. [86]

This poem is usually printed as if it formed part of the Complaint of Mars; but it is really distinct. It is attributed to Chaucer by Shirley both in MS. T. and in MS. A. It is not original, but translated from the French, as appears from l. 82. Shirley tells us that the author of the French poem was Sir Otes de Graunson, a worthy knight of Savoy. He is mentioned as receiving from King Richard the grant of an annuity of 126l. 13s. 4d. on 17 Nov. 1393; see Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 123. The association of this poem with the Complaint of Mars renders it probable that the Venus of this poem is the same as the Venus of the other, i. e. the Princess Isabel of Spain, and Duchess of York. This fits well with the word Princess at the beginning of the Envoy; and as she died in 1394, whilst Chaucer, on the other hand, complains of his advancing years, we must date the poem about 1393, i. e. just about the time when Graunson received his annuity. Chaucer, if born about 1340, was not really more than 53, but we must remember that, in those days, men often aged quickly. John of Gaunt, who is represented by Shakespeare as a very old man, only lived to the age of 59; and the Black Prince died quite worn out, at the age of 46. Compare the notes to ll. 73, 76, 79, and 82.

Much new light has lately been thrown upon this poem by Dr. A. Piaget, who contributed an article to Romania, tome xix., on 'Oton de Granson et ses Poésies,' in 1890. The author succeeded in discovering a large number of Granson's poems, including, to our great gain, the three Balades of which Chaucer's 'Compleynt of Venus' is a translation. I am thus enabled to give the original French beneath the English version, for the sake of comparison.

He has also given us an interesting account of Granson himself, for which I must refer my readers to his article. It appears that Froissart mentions Granson at least four times (twice in bk. i. c. 303, A.D. 1372, once in c. 305, and once in c. 331, A.D. 1379), as fighting on the side of the English; see Johnes' translation. He was in Savoy from 1389 to 1391; but, in the latter year, was accused of being concerned in the death of Amadeus VII., count of Savoy, in consequence of which he returned to England, and in 1393 his estates in Savoy were confiscated. It was on this occasion that Richard II. assigned to him the pension above mentioned. With the hope of clearing himself from the serious charge laid against him, [87]Granson fought a judicial duel, at Bourg-en-Bresse, on Aug. 7, 1397, in which, however, he was slain.

Now that we have the original before us, we can see clearly, as Dr. Piaget says, that Chaucer has certainly not translated the original Balades 'word for word' throughout. He does so sometimes, as in ll. 27, 28, 30, 31, in which the closeness of the translation is marvellous; but, usually, he paraphrases the original to a considerable extent. In the first Balade, he has even altered the general motive; in the original, Granson sings the praises of his lady; in Chaucer, it is a lady who praises the worthiness of her lover.

It also becomes probable that the title 'The Compleynt of Venus,' which seems to have been suggested by Shirley, is by no means a fitting one. It is not suitable for Venus, unless the 'Venus' be a mortal; neither is it a continuous 'Compleynt,' being simply a linking together of three separate and distinct Balades.

It is clear to me that, when Chaucer added his Envoy, he made the difficulties of following the original 'word by word' and of preserving the original metre his excuse; and that what really troubled him was the difficulty of adapting the French, especially Balade I., so as to be acceptable to the 'Princess' who enjoined him to translate these Balades. In particular, he evidently aimed at giving them a sort of connection, so that one should follow the other naturally; which accounts for the changes in the first of them. It is significant, perhaps, that the allusion to 'youth' (F. jeunesce) in l. 70 is entirely dropped.

On the whole, I think we may still accept the theory that this poem was written at the request (practically, the command) of Isabel, duchess of York, the probable 'Venus' of the 'Compleynt of Mars.' Chaucer seems to have thrown the three Balades together, linking them so as to express a lady's constancy in love, and choosing such language as he deemed would be most acceptable to the princess. He then ingeniously, and not without some humour, protests that any apparent alterations are due to his own dulness and the difficulties of translating 'word for word,' and of preserving the rimes.

In l. 31, the F. text shews us that we must read Pleyne, not Pleye (as in the MSS.). This was pointed out by Mr. Paget Toynbee.

Attributed to Chaucer by Shirley, in MS. Harl. 7333; by Caxton; by the scribes of MSS. F., P., and Ff.; and by early editors. I do [88]not know on what grounds Speght removed Chaucer's name, and substituted that of T. Occleve; there seems to be no authority for this change. I think it highly probable that the poem itself is older than the Envoy; see note to l. 17. In any case, the Envoy is almost certainly Chaucer's latest extant composition.

Attributed to Chaucer in MSS. F. and Ha.; see further in the Notes. From the nature of the case, we cannot assign any probable date to this composition. Yet it was, perhaps, written after, rather than before, the Tale of Melibeus.

For the genuineness of this Balade, we have chiefly the internal evidence to trust to; but this seems to me to be sufficiently strong. The Balade is perfect in construction, having but three rimes (-esse, -ace, -ene), and a refrain. The 'mood' of it strongly resembles that of Lak of Stedfastnesse; the lines run with perfect smoothness, and the rimes are all Chaucerian. It is difficult to suppose that Lydgate, or even Hoccleve, who was a better metrician, could have produced so good an imitation of Chaucer's style. But we are not without strong external evidence; for the general idea of the poem, and what is more important, the whole of the refrain, are taken from Chaucer's favourite author Machault (ed. Tarbé, p. 56); whose refrain is—'En lieu de bleu, Damë, vous vestez vert.' Again, the poem is only found in company with other poems by Chaucer. Such collocation frequently means nothing, but those who actually consult^[284] MSS. Ct. and Ha. will see how close is its association with the Chaucerian poems in those MSS. I have said that it occurs in MSS. F., Ct., and Ha. Now in MS. Ct. we find, on the back of fol. 188 and on fol. 189, just four poems in the same hand. These are (1) Gentilesse; (2) Lak of Stedfastnesse; (3) Truth; and (4) Against Women Unconstaunt. As three of these are admittedly genuine, there is evidence that the fourth is the same. We may also notice that, in this MS., the poems on Lak of Stedfastnesse and Against Women Unconstaunt are not far apart. On searching [89]MS. Ha. (Harl. 7578), I again found three of these poems in company, viz. (1) Gentilesse; (2) Lak of Stedfastnesse; and (3) Against Women Unconstaunt; the last being, in my view, precisely in its right place. (This copy of the poem was unknown to me in 1887.)

Whilst searching through the various MSS. containing Minor Poems by Chaucer in the British Museum, my attention was arrested by this piece, which, as far as I know, has never before been printed. It is in Shirley's handwriting, but he does not claim it for Chaucer. However, the internal evidence seems to me irresistible; the melody is Chaucer's, and his peculiar touches appear in it over and over again. There is, moreover, in the last stanza, a direct reference to the Parliament of Foules^[285].

I cannot explain the oracular notice of time in the heading; even if we alter May to day, it contradicts l. 85, which mentions 'seint Valentines day.' The heading is—'And next folowyng begynnith an amerowse compleynte made at wyndesore in the laste May tofore Nouembre' (sic). The date is inexplicable^[286]; but the mention of locality is interesting. Chaucer became a 'valet of the king's chamber' in 1367, and must frequently have been at Windsor, where the institution of the Order of the Garter was annually celebrated on St. George's Day (April 23). Some of the parallelisms in expression between the present poem and other passages in Chaucer's Works are pointed out in the Notes.

This Complaint should be compared with the complaint uttered by Dorigen in the Cant. Tales, F. 1311-1325, which is little else than the same thing in a compressed form. There is also much resemblance to the 'complaints' in Troilus; see the references in the Notes.

Since first printing the text in 1888, I found that it is precisely the same poem as one extant in MSS. F. and B., with the title 'Complaynt Damours.' I had noticed the latter some time previously, and had made a note that it ought to be closely examined; but unfortunately I forgot to do so, or I should have seen at once [90]that it had strong claims to being considered genuine. These claims are considerably strengthened by the fact of the appearance of the poem in these two Chaucerian MSS., the former of which contains no less than sixteen, and the latter seven of the Minor Poems, besides the Legend and the Hous of Fame.

In reprinting the text in the present volume, I take occasion to give all the more important results of a collation of the text with these MSS. In most places, their readings are inferior to those in the text; but in other places they suggest corrections.

In MS. F. the fourth stanza is mutilated; the latter half of lines 24-28 is missing.

In B., below the word Explicit, another and later hand has scrawled 'be me Humfrey Flemyng.' 'Be me' merely means—'this signature is mine.' It is a mere scribble, and does not necessarily relate to the poem at all.

The readings of F. and B. do not help us much; for the text in Harl., on the whole, is better.

This poem, which has not been printed before, as far as I am aware, occurs in Shirley's MS. Addit. 16165, at fol. 256, back. It is merely headed 'Balade of compleynte,' without any note of its being Chaucer's. But I had not read more than four lines of it before I at once recognised the well-known melodious flow which Chaucer's imitators (except sometimes Hoccleve) so seldom succeed in reproducing. And when I had only finished reading the first stanza, I decided at once to copy it out, not doubting that it would fulfil all the usual tests of metre, rime, and language; which it certainly does. It is far more correct in wording than the preceding poem, and does not require that we should either omit or supply a single word. But in l. 20 the last word should surely be dere rather than here; and the last word in l. 11 is indistinct. I read it as reewe afterwards altered to newe; and newe makes very good sense. I may notice that Shirley's n's are very peculiar: the first upstroke is very long, commencing below the line; and this peculiarity renders the reading tolerably certain. Some lines resemble lines in no. VI., as is pointed out in the Notes. Altogether, it is a beautiful poem, and its recovery is a clear gain. [91]

I regret that this Introduction has run to so great a length; but it was incumbent on me to shew reasons for the rejection or acceptance of the very large number of pieces which have hitherto been included in editions of Chaucer's Works. I have now only to add that I have, of course, been greatly indebted to the works of others; so much so indeed that I can hardly particularise them. I must, however, mention very gratefully the names of Dr. Furnivall, Professor Ten Brink, Dr. Koch, Dr. Willert, Max Lange, Rambeau, and various contributors to the publications of the Chaucer Society; and though I have consulted for myself such books as Le Roman de la Rose, the Teseide, the Thebaid of Statius, the poems of Machault, and a great many more, and have inserted in the Notes a large number of references which I discovered, or re-discovered, for myself, I beg leave distinctly to disclaim any merit, not doubting that most of what I have said may very likely have been said by others, and said better. Want of leisure renders it impossible for me to give to others their due meed of recognition in many instances; for I have often found it less troublesome to consult original authorities for myself than to hunt up what others have said relative to the passage under consideration.

I have relegated Poems no. XXI., XXII., and XXIII. to an Appendix, because they are not expressly attributed to Chaucer in the MSS. Such evidence has its value, but it is possible to make too much of it; and I agree with Dr. Koch, that, despite the MSS., the genuineness of no XX. is doubtful; for the rime of compas with embrace is suspicious. It is constantly the case that poems, well known to be Chaucer's, are not marked as his in the MS. copies; and we must really depend upon a prolonged and intelligent study of the internal evidence. This is why I admit poems nos. XXI-XXIII into the collection; and I hope it will be conceded that I am free from recklessness in this matter. Certainly my methods differ from those of John Stowe, and I believe them to be more worthy of respect.

1-44. Lost in G.; from Th. 3. Th. some sweuen; but the pl. is required. 4. Th. that false ne bene. 5. Th. apparaunt. 6. Th. warraunt. 12. Th. els; om. a. 13, 14. Th. fal, cal; fole.

23. Th. folke; went. 25. Th. slepte. 26. Th. suche. 27. Th. lyked; wele. 28. Th. dele. 29. Th. afterwarde befal. 30. Th. dreme; tel; al. 31. Th. Nowe; dreme. 35. Th. there. 37. Th. Howe; om. that and the. 38. Th. hatte; read hote.

39. Ed. 1550, Romaunte. 40. Th. arte. 42. Th. graunt me in; omit me. 45. Here begins G. 46. Th. to be; G. torn. 47. Th. G. ought. 49. G. Th. thought. 55. G. Th. bene. 56. G. Th. wrene. 59. G. erth. G. Th. proude. 61. G. Th. forgette. 62. G. Th. had; sette.

66. G. Th. had. 69-72. Imperfect in G. 72. G. so; Th. ful. 73. Th. grylle; G. gryl. 73, 74. G. Th. sight, bright. 76. Th. herte; G. hertis. G. sich. 80. G. om. a. 81. G. om. the. 82. Th. yonge; G. yong. 84. Th. sauorous; G. sauerous. 85. Th. his herte; G. the hert.

89. G. blesful; Th. blysful. 91. G. affraieth; Th. affirmeth. G. Th. al. 96. G. wisshe; hondis. 97. Th. nedyl. G. droughe; Th. drowe. 98. Th. aguyler; G. Aguler. G. ynoughe; Th. ynowe. 101. Th. sowne; G. song. 102. Th. on; G. in. Both buskes. 103. G. om. the. G. swete; Th. lefe. 107. Th. That; G. They. G. om. a. 109. Th. Iolyfe; G. Ioly.

110. Both gan I. 111. G. herd; fast. 113. Both ryuere. 114. Both nere. 117-120. Imperfect in G. 121. Perhaps om. that. 123, 4. G. Th. ryuere, clere. 126. Th. botome ypaued. 132. G. walk thorough.

138. G. Th. Enclosed was; see l. 1652. 139. Th. hye; G. high. 142. G. the ymages and the peyntures; Th. the ymages and peyntures. 146. G. haue in; Th. om. in. 147. Th. Amydde; G. Amyd. 149. Both mynoresse; French, moverresse. 154. Both wode. 155. G. om. Y-.

160. Th. ywrithen; G. writhen. 163. G. om. faste. 165, 6. Both Felony, Vil(l)any. 167. Th. Ycleped; G. Clepid. Both fonde. 168. G. wal; Th. wall. Both honde. 174. Both outragious. 176. Th. suche an ymage.

184. G. gret tresouris; Th. gret treasours. G. leyne; Th. layne. 185. G. om. she. 188. Th. couetous; G. coueitise. 189. G. om. she. Th. for; G. that. 196. Both myscoueiting. 198. Both om. that. 203. Both wode.

204. Both gode. 208. Both fast. 212. Th. any; G. ony. 214. Both semed to haue. 219. G. porely; Th. poorely. 220. Both courtpy. 224. Th. mantel; G. mantyl. Both fast.

234. Th. ilke; G. ilk. 239. Th. helde; G. hilde. 240. Both om. doun. 241, 2. Th. stronge, longe; G. strong, long. 245, 6. Both entent, went. 248. Both peynted. 249, 250. Both in hir herte. G. farede, herede; Th. ferde, herde.

255. Perhaps read On ... to falle. 256. Both om. ful. 259. Th. shamful; G. shynful. 261. Both or by his prowesse. 264. Th. chaunce; G. chaunge. 266. G. trouth. 271. G. farede; Th. fared. 273. Both male talent; see 330.

275. G. hath; Th. hate. I supply wo. 276. Read melt'th or melt. 277. Both so (for to-). 278. Th. people; G. puple. 282. Both best. 291. G. Th. awrie. 292. G. -thart; Th. -twharte, misprint for -thwart. 293. I supply eek. G. om. a foul. 296. G. hir eien; Th. her one eye.

298. Both se. 299. So Th.; G. fairer or worthier. 303. G. seyn; Th. sene. 305. Both to haue; read hav-ë. Th. iaundice. 307. I supply as. 310. Th. yelowe; G. yolare.

324. Both rent. 333-380. Lost in G; from Th. 334. Th. had sene. 340. Th. rechelesse. 341. Th. rought. 342. I supply of.

367, 368. Th. went, potent. 370. Th. restlesse. 379. Supply er (Kaluza). 381. G. begins again. 382. Both may neuer. 387. Both frette. Th. shal; G. shalle. 388. Th. al; G. alle. 389. Th. al; G. alle. 390. Both al.

398. Both myght. 401. Both witte; pithe; in. 404. Both faire. 408. Th. cappe.

442. Both ay (giving no sense); read shal. 444. Both grace (for face). 446. G. om. hem. 448. G. om. eek. 452. I supply that. 455. G. wedir; Th. wether. 456. G. deyd; Th. dyed. 462. Both had.

466. G. pouer. 467. G. shamefast; dispised. 471. G. ony pouere; fedde. Th. yfedde. 472. G. cledde; Th. ycledde. 478. Th. were; G. newe. 479. Both Square. 480. Th. ybarred; G. barred. 483. Both wrought. 485. G. laddris; Th. ladders; read laddre; see 523.

489. Both As was in. 492. G. yeer; Th. yere; read yerd; see 656. 494. Th. Therin; G. Therynne. 498. Both ought. 501. Th. hundred; G. hundreth. Both wolde (by confusion). 503. Both be. 505. Both kepe it fro care; a false rime. 506. Both ware; a false spelling. 510. Both weymentyng.

512. Both into. 516. Both where; read o-where. 517. Both myght. 520. Both For; read Ful. G. angwishis; see F. text. 532. I supply 1st so.

535. G. and of herknyng; Th. al herkenyng. 536. G. ony; Th. any; read a. 537. G. om. the. 540. G. ony; Th. any. 541. I supply 1st as. 542. Both bent. 546. Both as is a; omit is or a. 558. G. snawe; Th. snowe. G. snawed; Th. snowed.

560. G. neded; Th. neden. 564. Some lines lost? 567. I supply in honde. 568. Th. tressour; G. tresour; (cf. Gawain, 1739). 569. Both queyntly; see l. 783. 570. Both fetously; see l. 577.

583. Both but if; om. if. 586. Both may; see l. 538. 587, 588. Both myght, hyght. 592. G. answeride; Th. answerde. 603. G. hidre be; Th. hyther be. Both fette. 604. G. sette; Th. ysette.

605. Both hight. 606. Both sight. 617. Th. therin; G. therynne. 623. Th. playen in; G. pleyn ynne.

655. Th. byrde; G. bridde; read brid. 660. Both places (badly). 661. Both might. 668. Both That (for These). 673. Th. whan; G. that. Th. herde; G. herd. 676. Both myght.

684. Both clepe. 688. Th. But; G. For. Both om. hir. 699. Th. gardyn; G. gardyne. 700. G. inne; Th. in.

701. G. hens-; wrought. 702. Both thought. 709. Both wrought. 716. Th. her; G. their. Th. iargonyng; G. yarkonyng. 718. Th. ispronge; G. spronge. 720. Th. reuelrye; G. reuerye; see French. 724. Th. in; G. inne.

728. Both sight (wrongly). 732. Th. faste; G. fast. Both without. 739. Th. whence; G. whenne. Both might. 741, 2. Both sight, bright. 743. Th. These; G. This. 745. Both hyght. 746. Both blisfull. Th. and lyght; G. and the light; see 797. 749. Both add couthe before make.

760. I supply ther. 761. Both made (for make). 770. Th. saylours; G. saillouris. 773. Both, hente; I supply hem.

776. G. damysels; Th. damosels. 782. Both lieth. 783. Both queyntly; see l. 569. 791. Both bode; read bede; see note. 798. Both pray to God.

801. I supply neer. 806. Both it to me liked. 811. Both right blythe; om. right. 812. Th. Than; G. Thanne. 819. Th. appel; G. appille.

834. Both first. 836. Both samette. 837. Both beten ful; om. ful. 844. Both drury. 845. Th. rosen; G. rosyn.

848. Both gladnesse. 859. G. seye; Th. sey (for sayn). 860. G. pleye; Th. pley (for pleyn). 861. Both Bent. 863. Both laugheden. 865. Both I wot not what of hir nose I shal descryve (eleven syllables). 866. Two lines lost.

869. Th. orfrayes. 870. Th. whiche; G. which. Th. sene; G. seyen. 873. Th. samyte; G. samet. 875, 6. Th. werde, ferde; G. werede, ferede. Both ins. hir bef. herte. 877. Th. on; G. in. 879. Both Love, and as hym likith it be. 887. Th. prise; G. preyse. 890. Th. ycladde; G. clad. 891. G. and in; Th. om. in. 892. From Th.; G. om.

893. Th. losenges; G. losynges. 897. Th. Ypurtrayed; G. Portreied. Th. ywrought; G. wrought. 900. Th. Yset; G. Sett. 902. Th. moche; G. mych. 903, 4. Both peruynke, thynke. 906. G. -melled; Th. -medled; see l. 898.

923. Both Turke bowes two, full wel deuysed had he (too long). 928. Th. any; G. ony. 929, 930. Th. plante, warante; G. plant, warant. Both Without. 932. G. Treitys; Th. Trectes. Both ins. ful after of. 933. G. twythen; Th. thwitten (printed twhitten). 936. I supply ful. 939. Th. helde; G. hilde.

942. Th. aryght; G. right. 944. G. peynted (!). 945. Th. sharpe; G. sharp. Th. wele; G. welle. 946. Th. stele; G. steelle. 948. Th. Out take; G. Outake. 953. G. lasse; Th. lesse. 958. Th. companye; G. compaigny. 959. Both shoten; see l. 989. 960. For right read nigh (K.).

964. Both leest. 969. Th. soner; G. sonner. 970. Th. Hys; G. Hir. Th. ought be; G. ought to be. 973. Both for to telle. 984. Both on; read of (K.).

991. Both And contrarye. 998. Th. booke; G. book. 1007. G. Th. And; read As was; F. Ainsinc cum. 1010. I supply is.

1015. For As read And (K.). 1017. Both smale. 1018. Both wyntred; see l. 1020. 1026. Both thought; read thinketh (K.). 1031. Both Sore (!); read Wys (?). 1034. Both And hight (!).

1037. Both in werk (!). 1043. G. and the; Th. om. the. 1045. Th. weren; G. were. 1058. Th. But; G. And. Th. prill; G. prile; prob. error for prike, or prikke.

1062. Th. and wyse; G. ywys. 1063. G. haue do; Th. and ydon. 1065. Th. And maketh; G. Haue maad. 1066. G. om. as. Both ought. 1068. Th. aryued; G. achyued. 1071. G. purpur; Th. purple. 1073. Th. it; G. hir. 1080. Th. amyled; Speght, ameled; G. enameled. 1082. G. shete; Th. shette.

1089. Both durst (!); read thurte or thurfte. 1092. Th. mannes; G. man. 1098. G. om. of. Both tothe. 1101. Th. thylke; G. thilk. 1102. Both myght.

1109. Both light. 1111. Th. he; G. she. 1112. Both deuyse. 1116. Th. the; G. that. 1117. Both ragounces (!). 1125. Morris supplies tho. 1132. G. mych.

1134. Th. loued wel to haue; G. loued to haue well. 1137. Th. an; G. ony. 1139. Th. ben; G. be. 1141. Th. Was; G. And. 1142. Th. or defence; G. of diffense. 1144. Th. dispences; G. dispence. 1146. Th. for to spende; G. for to dispende; see 1157. 1147. Th. lackynge; G. lakke. 1150. Th. sette; G. settith.

1162. G. om. wys. 1166. Th. craftely; G. tristely. 1172. Th. nygarde; G. nygart. 1176. G. om. him. 1178. Th. wyl; G. wille. 1182. Th. adamant; G. adamaund.

1187. Th. fresshe; G. fresh. 1188. G. sarlynysh; Th. Sarlynyssche. 1199. Both sibbe. Th. Arthour; G. Artour. Th. Breteigne; G. Britaigne. 1200. Th. enseigne; G, ensaigne. 1201. Both gousfaucoun. 1205. Both newly. 1206. Th. tourneyeng; G. tourneryng.

1207. Th. There; G. The. 1210. Both He caste. 1214. Th. yfallen; G. falle. 1219. Th. on; G. of. 1221. Both durst. 1227, 8. Both bistadde, adradde. 1230. Th. taswage.

1233. Th. hempe; G. hempe ne (for hempene). 1235. G. ridled; Th. ryddeled. 1236. G. om. nat. Both a; read oo. 1238. Th. yclothed; G. clothed. 1243; see 1235. 1244. Both Bitokeneth. 1247, 8. Both hight.

1255. Th. om. right. 1259. G. and of; Th. om. of. 1261. G. om. 1st no. 1263. G. wenaunt (!). 1265. G. om. were. 1274. Both fast. 1275. Both without.

1282. Both And she; read Youthe; see 1302. 1288. Th. yonge; G. yong. Th. wel; G. wole. 1303. Both that; read thus; see 1310.

1307. Both faire; truly (truely). 1308. Both were. 1313. G. loreyes; Th. Laurelles. 1315. Th. ended; G. eended (=y-ended?). 1323. Both myght. 1324. Both durst (for thurte). 1326. Both As to haue.

1332. Both she (for 2nd he). 1334. Both hadde (for bad); bent; om. it. 1335. I supply it. Both an (for on). 1339. Both sittith. 1340. Both he kepe me; (om. he). 1341. G. hadde me shette; Th. had me shete. 1342. G. mette; Th. mete. 1343. Both had me greued. 1348. Both hadde in all the gardyn be.

1359. G. of gret; Th. om. of. 1360. Th. nuttes. 1363. Both almandres. 1365. Th. weren; G. wexen. 1366. Read Throughout the yerd? 1369. Th. Gyngere; G. Gyngevre. Both Parys (!). 1375. Th. plommes. Th. chesteynis; G. chesteyns. 1376. G. Cherys; Th. Cheryse. G. which.

1379. Th. laurer; G. lorey (!). 1381. G. olyuers; Th. olyueris. 1384. Both oke. 1386-1482. Lost in G. 1397, 8. Th. knytte, sytte; see Parl. Fo. 628. 1399. Th. myght there noon. 1400. I supply it.

1403. Th. bowe; Speght, bough (twice). 1404. Th. Connes. 1405, 6. Th. clapers, maners. 1411, 2. Th. wel, tel. 1413, 4. Th. deuyse, condyse 1423. Th. the erthe; see 1428. 1424. Th. wel.

1425. Th. Spronge; see l. 1419. 1428. Th. suche. 1429. Th. hath. 1431. Th. vyolet. 1440. Th. dilectable. 1445, 6. Th. lefte. 1447. Th. garden; read yerde in (K.); cf. 1366 (note). 1448. Th. efters (!).

1452. Th. beest. 1453. Th. shoten; read shete. 1453. Th. goodmesse; see 3462. 1456. Th. Besydes. 1474. Th. that hight; (om. that).

1482. Th. feirs. 1483. G. begins again. 1485. G. om. hir. 1486. Th. hert. 1488. Th. without. 1489. Th. deyde; G. dide. 1495. Both might to; I omit to. 1496. Th. Than; G. And that. Th. shulde he; G. he shulde. 1498. G. velaynesly; Th. vilaynously.

1500. Th. ferme; G. forme. 1503. G. resten; Th. rest. G. that; Th. the. 1508. G. heet; Th. herte (for heete). 1510. Both wel. Th. y-comen; G. comen. 1515. G. he straught; Th. out-straught. 1516. Both draught. 1517, 8. G. seen, sheen; Th. sene, shene. 1520. Th. had; G. was.

1550. G. scathles; Th. scathlesse. 1552. Th. abasshen; G. abaisshen. 1553. From Th.; not in G. 1561, 2. Both bright, hight. 1563. Both Aboute.

1573, 4. Both sight, bright. 1581. Both foule. 1583. Both you to; I omit to. 1585. Both mirrour. 1586. G. stondith; Th. stondeth. 1591. Both entrees. 1593, 4. Both ye (for he).

1601, 1605. Both mirrour. 1604. So Th.; G. swithe to ligge. 1605. Th. loke; G. loketh. 1608. Both laughyng (!); read loving. 1609. G. om. a. 1610. Th. Y-blent; G. Blent. 1617. Th. sowen; G. sowne.

1621, 2. Both panters, bachelers. 1638. G. fast; Th. faste. 1641. I supply have. Both sighed (for syked). 1642, 9. Both mirrour.

1644. Th. vertue; G. vertues. I supply the. Both strengthes; read strengthe. 1646. Both had. 1648. G. bitrisshed; Th. bytresshed. 1649. Th. thylke; G. thilk. 1652. Th. enclos; G. enclosid. 1655. G. att (for and). 1663. Th. G. me; read be (F. fusse). 1666. So Th.; G. Me thankis. G. wole; Th. wol; read wolde.

1668. Both bere. 1671, 2. Both -thought, wrought. 1673. Both ther were; both wone. 1674. Th. ware; G. waxe; both Rone. 1679. Th. faste; G. fast. 1683. G. wille; Th. wyl. Th. fresshe; G. fresh. 1687. Both myght haue. 1688. G. lief; Th. lefe. 1689. I supply a.

1694. G. it in; Th. om. it. 1695. G. enlomyned. 1698. Both hath; om. wel? 1700. Both roses. 1701. Th. rysshe; G. rish. 1705. Th. dyed (for dide; wrongly). 1705, 6. A false rime; l. 1705 is incomplete in sense, as the sentence has no verb. Here the genuine portion ends. L. 1706 is by another hand.

FRAGMENT B.

Whan I had smelled the savour swote,

No wille hadde I fro thens yit go,

But somdel neer it wente I tho,

To take it; but myn hond, for drede,

1710

Ne dorste I to the rose bede,

For thistels sharpe, of many maneres,

Netles, thornes, and hoked breres;

[Ful] muche they distourbled me,

For sore I dradde to harmed be.

1715

The God of Love, with bowe bent,

That al day set hadde his talent

To pursuen and to spyen me,

Was stonding by a fige-tree.

[165]

And whan he sawe how that I

1720

Had chosen so ententifly

The botoun, more unto my pay

Than any other that I say,

He took an arowe ful sharply whet,

And in his bowe whan it was set,

1725

He streight up to his ere drough

The stronge bowe, that was so tough,

And shet at me so wonder smerte,

That through myn eye unto myn herte

The takel smoot, and depe it wente.

1730

And ther-with-al such cold me hente,

That, under clothes warme and softe,

Sith that day I have chevered ofte.

Whan I was hurt thus in [that] stounde,

I fel doun plat unto the grounde.

1735

Myn herte failed and feynted ay,

And long tyme [ther] a-swone I lay.

But whan I com out of swoning,

And hadde wit, and my feling,

I was al maat, and wende ful wel

1740

Of blood have loren a ful gret del.

But certes, the arowe that in me stood

Of me ne drew no drope of blood,

For-why I found my wounde al dreye.

Than took I with myn hondis tweye

1745

The arowe, and ful fast out it plight,

And in the pulling sore I sight.

So at the last the shaft of tree

I drough out, with the fethers three.

But yet the hoked heed, y-wis,

1750

The whiche Beautee callid is,

Gan so depe in myn herte passe,

That I it mighte nought arace;

But in myn herte stille it stood,

Al bledde I not a drope of blood.

1755

I was bothe anguissous and trouble

For the peril that I saw double;

I niste what to seye or do,

Ne gete a leche my woundis to;

For neithir thurgh gras ne rote,

1760

Ne hadde I help of hope ne bote.

But to the botoun ever-mo

Myn herte drew; for al my wo,

My thought was in non other thing.

For hadde it been in my keping,

1765

It wolde have brought my lyf agayn.

For certeinly, I dar wel seyn,

The sight only, and the savour,

Alegged muche of my langour.

Than gan I for to drawe me

1770

Toward the botoun fair to see;

And Love hadde gete him, in [a] throwe,

Another arowe into his bowe,

And for to shete gan him dresse;

The arowis name was Simplesse.

1775

And whan that Love gan nyghe me nere,

He drow it up, withouten were,

[166]

And shet at me with al his might,

So that this arowe anon-right

Thourghout [myn] eigh, as it was founde,

1780

Into myn herte hath maad a wounde.

Thanne I anoon dide al my crafte

For to drawen out the shafte,

And ther-with-al I sighed eft.

But in myn herte the heed was left,

1785

Which ay encresid my desyre,

Unto the botoun drawe nere;

And ever, mo that me was wo,

The more desyr hadde I to go

Unto the roser, where that grew

1790

The fresshe botoun so bright of hewe.

Betir me were have leten be;

But it bihoved nedes me

To don right as myn herte bad.

For ever the body must be lad

1795

Aftir the herte; in wele and wo,

Of force togidre they must go.

But never this archer wolde fyne

To shete at me with alle his pyne,

And for to make me to him mete.

1800

The thridde arowe he gan to shete,

Whan best his tyme he mighte espye,

The which was named Curtesye;

Into myn herte it dide avale.

A-swone I fel, bothe deed and pale;

1805

Long tyme I lay, and stired nought,

Til I abraid out of my thought.

And faste than I avysed me

To drawen out the shafte of tree;

But ever the heed was left bihinde

1810

For ought I couthe pulle or winde.

So sore it stikid whan I was hit,

That by no craft I might it flit;

But anguissous and ful of thought,

I felte such wo, my wounde ay wrought,

1815

That somoned me alway to go

Toward the rose, that plesed me so;

But I ne durste in no manere,

Bicause the archer was so nere.

For evermore gladly, as I rede,

1820

Brent child of fyr hath muche drede.

And, certis yit, for al my peyne,

Though that I sigh yit arwis reyne,

And grounde quarels sharpe of stele,

Ne for no payne that I might fele,

1825

Yit might I not my-silf withholde

The faire roser to biholde;

For Love me yaf sich hardement

For to fulfille his comaundement.

Upon my feet I roos up than

1830

Feble, as a forwoundid man;

And forth to gon [my] might I sette,

And for the archer nolde I lette.

Toward the roser fast I drow;

But thornes sharpe mo than y-now

1835

Ther were, and also thistels thikke,

And breres, brimme for to prikke,

That I ne mighte gete grace

The rowe thornes for to passe,

To sene the roses fresshe of hewe.

1840

I must abide, though it me rewe,

The hegge aboute so thikke was,

That closid the roses in compas.

[167]

But o thing lyked me right wele;

I was so nygh, I mighte fele

1845

Of the botoun the swote odour,

And also see the fresshe colour;

And that right gretly lyked me,

That I so neer it mighte see.

Sich Ioye anoon therof hadde I,

1850

That I forgat my malady.

To sene [it] hadde I sich delyt,

Of sorwe and angre I was al quit,

And of my woundes that I had thar;

For no-thing lyken me might mar

1855

Than dwellen by the roser ay,

And thennes never to passe away.

But whan a whyle I had be thar,

The God of Love, which al to-shar

Myn herte with his arwis kene,

1860

Caste him to yeve me woundis grene.

He shet at me ful hastily

An arwe named Company,

The whiche takel is ful able

To make these ladies merciable.

1865

Than I anoon gan chaungen hewe

For grevaunce of my wounde newe,

That I agayn fel in swoning,

And sighed sore in compleyning.

Sore I compleyned that my sore

1870

On me gan greven more and more.

I had non hope of allegeaunce;

So nigh I drow to desperaunce,

I rought of dethe ne of lyf,

Whither that love wolde me dryf.

1875

If me a martir wolde he make,

I might his power nought forsake.

And whyl for anger thus I wook,

The God of Love an arowe took;

Ful sharp it was and [ful] pugnaunt,

1880

And it was callid Fair-Semblaunt,

The which in no wys wol consente,

That any lover him repente

To serve his love with herte and alle,

For any peril that may bifalle.

1885

But though this arwe was kene grounde

As any rasour that is founde,

To cutte and kerve, at the poynt,

The God of Love it hadde anoynt

With a precious oynement,

1890

Somdel to yeve aleggement

Upon the woundes that he had

Through the body in my herte maad,

To helpe hir sores, and to cure,

And that they may the bet endure.

1895

But yit this arwe, withoute more,

Made in myn herte a large sore,

That in ful gret peyne I abood.

But ay the oynement wente abrood;

Throughout my woundes large and wyde

1900

It spredde aboute in every syde;

Through whos vertu and whos might

Myn herte Ioyful was and light.

I had ben deed and al to-shent

But for the precious oynement.

1905

The shaft I drow out of the arwe,

Roking for wo right wondir narwe;

[168]

But the heed, which made me smerte,

Lefte bihinde in myn herte

With other foure, I dar wel say,

1910

That never wol be take away;

But the oynement halp me wele.

And yit sich sorwe dide I fele,

That al-day I chaunged hewe,

Of my woundes fresshe and newe,

1915

As men might see in my visage.

The arwis were so fulle of rage,

So variaunt of diversitee,

That men in everich mighte see

Bothe gret anoy and eek swetnesse,

1920

And Ioye meynt with bittirnesse.

Now were they esy, now were they wood,

In hem I felte bothe harm and good;

Now sore without aleggement,

Now softening with oynement;

1925

It softned here, and prikked there,

Thus ese and anger togider were.

The God of Love deliverly

Com lepand to me hastily,

And seide to me, in gret rape,

1930

'Yeld thee, for thou may not escape!

May no defence availe thee here;

Therfore I rede mak no daungere.

If thou wolt yelde thee hastily,

Thou shalt [the] rather have mercy.

1935

He is a fool in sikernesse,

That with daunger or stoutnesse

Rebellith ther that he shulde plese;

In such folye is litel ese.

Be meek, wher thou must nedis bowe;

1940

To stryve ageyn is nought thy prowe.

Come at ones, and have y-do,

For I wol that it be so.

Than yeld thee here debonairly.'

And I answerid ful humbly,

1945

'Gladly, sir; at your bidding,

I wol me yelde in alle thing.

To your servyse I wol me take;

For god defende that I shulde make

Ageyn your bidding resistence;

1950

I wol not doon so gret offence;

For if I dide, it were no skile.

Ye may do with me what ye wile,

Save or spille, and also sloo;

Fro you in no wyse may I go.

1955

My lyf, my deth, is in your honde,

I may not laste out of your bonde.

Pleyn at your list I yelde me,

Hoping in herte, that sumtyme ye

Comfort and ese shulle me sende;

1960

Or ellis shortly, this is the ende,

Withouten helthe I moot ay dure,

But-if ye take me to your cure.

Comfort or helthe how shuld I have,

Sith ye me hurte, but ye me save?

1965

The helthe of lovers moot be founde

Wher-as they token firste hir wounde.

And if ye list of me to make

Your prisoner, I wol it take

Of herte and wil, fully at gree.

1970

Hoolly and pleyn I yelde me,

Withoute feyning or feyntyse,

To be governed by your empryse.

Of you I here so much prys,

I wol ben hool at your devys

[169]

1975

For to fulfille your lyking

And repente for no-thing,

Hoping to have yit in som tyde

Mercy, of that [that] I abyde.'

And with that covenaunt yeld I me,

1980

Anoon doun kneling upon my knee,

Profering for to kisse his feet;

But for no-thing he wolde me lete,

And seide, 'I love thee bothe and preyse,

Sen that thyn answer doth me ese,

1985

For thou answerid so curteisly.

For now I wot wel uttirly,

That thou art gentil, by thy speche.

For though a man fer wolde seche,

He shulde not finden, in certeyn,

1990

No sich answer of no vileyn;

For sich a word ne mighte nought

Isse out of a vilayns thought.

Thou shalt not lesen of thy speche,

For [to] thy helping wol I eche,

1995

And eek encresen that I may.

But first I wol that thou obay

Fully, for thyn avauntage,

Anon to do me here homage.

And sithen kisse thou shalt my mouth,

2000

Which to no vilayn was never couth

For to aproche it, ne for to touche;

For sauf of cherlis I ne vouche

That they shulle never neigh it nere.

For curteys, and of fair manere,

2005

Wel taught, and ful of gentilnesse

He muste ben, that shal me kisse,

And also of ful high fraunchyse,

That shal atteyne to that empryse.

And first of o thing warne I thee,

2010

That peyne and gret adversitee

He mot endure, and eek travaile,

That shal me serve, withoute faile.

But ther-ageyns, thee to comforte,

And with thy servise to desporte,

2015

Thou mayst ful glad and Ioyful be

So good a maister to have as me,

And lord of so high renoun.

I bere of Love the gonfanoun,

Of Curtesye the banere;

2020

For I am of the silf manere,

Gentil, curteys, meek and free;

That who [so] ever ententif be

Me to honoure, doute, and serve,

And also that he him observe

2025

Fro trespas and fro vilanye,

And him governe in curtesye

With wil and with entencioun;

For whan he first in my prisoun

Is caught, than muste he uttirly,

2030

Fro thennes-forth ful bisily,

Caste him gentil for to be,

If he desyre helpe of me.'

Anoon withouten more delay,

Withouten daunger or affray,

2035

I bicom his man anoon,

And gave him thankes many a oon,

And kneled doun with hondis Ioynt,

And made it in my port ful queynt;

The Ioye wente to myn herte rote.

2040

Whan I had kissed his mouth so swote,

I had sich mirthe and sich lyking,

It cured me of languisshing.

He askid of me than hostages:—

I have,' he seide, 'taken fele homages

[170]

2045

Of oon and other, where I have been

Disceyved ofte, withouten wene.

These felouns, fulle of falsitee,

Have many sythes bigyled me,

And through falshede hir lust acheved,

2050

Wherof I repente and am agreved.

And I hem gete in my daungere,

Hir falshed shulie they bye ful dere.

But for I love thee, I seye thee pleyn,

I wol of thee be more certeyn;

2055

For thee so sore I wol now binde,

That thou away ne shalt not winde

For to denyen the covenaunt,

Or doon that is not avenaunt.

That thou were fals it were gret reuthe,

2060

Sith thou semest so ful of treuthe.'

'Sire, if thee list to undirstande,

I merveile thee asking this demande.

For-why or wherfore shulde ye

Ostages or borwis aske of me,

2065

Or any other sikirnesse,

Sith ye wote, in sothfastnesse,

That ye have me surprysed so,

And hool myn herte taken me fro,

That it wol do for me no-thing

2070

But-if it be at your bidding?

Myn herte is yours, and myn right nought,

As it bihoveth, in dede and thought,

Redy in alle to worche your wille,

Whether so [it] turne to good or ille.

2075

So sore it lustith you to plese,

No man therof may you disseise.

Ye have theron set sich Iustise,

That it is werreyd in many wise.

And if ye doute it nolde obeye,

2080

Ye may therof do make a keye,

And holde it with you for ostage.'

Now certis, this is noon outrage,'

Quoth Love, 'and fully I accord;

For of the body he is ful lord

2085

That hath the herte in his tresor;

Outrage it were to asken more.'

Than of his aumener he drough

A litel keye, fetys y-nough,

Which was of gold polisshed clere,

2090

And seide to me, 'With this keye here

Thyn herte to me now wol I shette;

For al my Iowellis loke and knette

I binde under this litel keye,

That no wight may carye aweye;

2095

This keye is ful of gret poeste.'

With which anoon he touchid me

Undir the syde ful softely,

That he myn herte sodeynly

Without [al] anoy had spered,

2100

That yit right nought it hath me dered.

Whan he had doon his wil al-out,

And I had put him out of dout,

Sire,' I seide, 'I have right gret wille

Your lust and plesaunce to fulfille.

2105

Loke ye my servise take at gree,

By thilke feith ye owe to me.

I seye nought for recreaundyse,

For I nought doute of your servyse.

[171]

But the servaunt traveileth in vayne,

2110

That for to serven doth his payne

Unto that lord, which in no wyse

Can him no thank for his servyse.'

Love seide, 'Dismaye thee nought,

Sin thou for sucour hast me sought,

2115

In thank thy servise wol I take,

And high of degree I wol thee make,

If wikkidnesse ne hindre thee;

But, as I hope, it shal nought be.

To worship no wight by aventure

2120

May come, but-if he peyne endure.

Abyde and suffre thy distresse;

That hurtith now, it shal be lesse;

I wot my-silf what may thee save,

What medicyne thou woldist have.

2125

And if thy trouthe to me thou kepe,

I shal unto thyn helping eke,

To cure thy woundes and make hem clene,

Wher-so they be olde or grene;

Thou shalt be holpen, at wordis fewe.

2130

For certeynly thou shalt wel shewe

Wher that thou servest with good wille,

For to complisshen and fulfille

My comaundementis, day and night,

Whiche I to lovers yeve of right.'

2135

'Ah, sire, for goddis love,' seide I,

Er ye passe hens, ententifly

Your comaundementis to me ye say,

And I shal kepe hem, if I may;

For hem to kepen is al my thought.

2140

And if so be I wot hem nought,

Than may I [sinne] unwitingly.

Wherfore I pray you enterely,

With al myn herte, me to lere,

That I trespasse in no manere.'

2145

The god of love than chargid me

Anoon, as ye shal here and see,

Word by word, by right empryse,

So as the Romance shal devyse.

The maister lesith his tyme to lere,

2150

Whan the disciple wol not here.

It is but veyn on him to swinke,

That on his lerning wol not thinke.

Who-so lust love, let him entende,

For now the Romance ginneth amende.

2155

Now is good to here, in fay,

If any be that can it say,

And poynte it as the resoun is

Set; for other-gate, y-wis,

It shal nought wel in alle thing

2160

Be brought to good undirstonding:

For a reder that poyntith ille

A good sentence may ofte spille.

The book is good at the ending,

Maad of newe and lusty thing;

2165

For who-so wol the ending here,

The crafte of love he shal now lere,

If that he wol so long abyde,

Til I this Romance may unhyde,

And undo the signifiaunce

2170

Of this dreme into Romaunce.

The sothfastnesse that now is hid,

Without coverture shal be kid,

[172]

Whan I undon have this dreming,

Wherin no word is of lesing.

2175

'Vilany, at the biginning,

I wol,' sayd Love, 'over alle thing,

Thou leve, if thou wolt [not] be

Fals, and trespasse ageynes me.

I curse and blame generally

2180

Alle hem that loven vilany;

For vilany makith vilayn,

And by his dedis a cherle is seyn.

Thise vilayns arn without pitee,

Frendshipe, love, and al bounte.

2185

I nil receyve to my servyse

Hem that ben vilayns of empryse.

'But undirstonde in thyn entent,

That this is not myn entendement,

To clepe no wight in no ages

2190

Only gentil for his linages.

But who-so [that] is vertuous,

And in his port nought outrageous,

Whan sich oon thou seest thee biforn,

Though he be not gentil born,

2195

Thou mayst wel seyn, this is a soth,

That he is gentil, bicause he doth

As longeth to a gentilman;

Of hem non other deme I can.

For certeynly, withouten drede,

2200

A cherl is demed by his dede,

Of hye or lowe, as ye may see,

Or of what kinrede that he be.

Ne say nought, for noon yvel wille,

Thing that is to holden stille;

2205

It is no worship to misseye.

Thou mayst ensample take of Keye,

That was somtyme, for misseying,

Hated bothe of olde and ying;

As fer as Gaweyn, the worthy,

2210

Was preysed for his curtesy,

Keye was hated, for he was fel,

Of word dispitous and cruel.

Wherfore be wyse and aqueyntable,

Goodly of word, and resonable

2215

Bothe to lesse and eek to mar.

And whan thou comest ther men ar,

Loke that thou have in custom ay

First to salue hem, if thou may:

And if it falle, that of hem som

2220

Salue thee first, be not dom,

But quyte him curteisly anoon

Without abiding, er they goon.

'For no-thing eek thy tunge applye

To speke wordis of ribaudye.

2225

To vilayn speche in no degree

Lat never thy lippe unbounden be.

For I nought holde him, in good feith,

Curteys, that foule wordis seith.

And alle wimmen serve and preyse,

2230

And to thy power hir honour reyse.

And if that any missayere

Dispyse wimmen, that thou mayst here,

Blame him, and bidde him holde him stille.

And set thy might and al thy wille

2235

Wimmen and ladies for to plese,

And to do thing that may hem ese,

That they ever speke good of thee,

For so thou mayst best preysed be.

'Loke fro pryde thou kepe thee wele;

2240

For thou mayst bothe perceyve and fele,

[173]

That pryde is bothe foly and sinne;

And he that pryde hath, him withinne,

Ne may his herte, in no wyse,

Meken ne souplen to servyse.

2245

For pryde is founde, in every part,

Contrarie unto Loves art.

And he that loveth trewely

Shulde him contene Iolily,

Withouten pryde in sondry wyse,

2250

And him disgysen in queyntyse.

For queynt array, withouten drede,

Is no-thing proud, who takith hede;

For fresh array, as men may see,

Withouten pryde may ofte be.

2255

'Mayntene thy-silf aftir thy rent,

Of robe and eek of garnement;

For many sythe fair clothing

A man amendith in mich thing.

And loke alwey that they be shape,

2260

What garnement that thou shalt make,

Of him that can [hem] beste do,

With al that perteyneth therto.

Poyntis and sleves be wel sittand,

Right and streight upon the hand.

2265

Of shoon and botes, newe and faire,

Loke at the leest thou have a paire;

And that they sitte so fetisly,

That these rude may uttirly

Merveyle, sith that they sitte so pleyn,

2270

How they come on or of ageyn.

Were streite gloves, with aumenere

Of silk; and alwey with good chere

Thou yeve, if thou have richesse;

And if thou have nought, spend the lesse.

2275

Alwey be mery, if thou may,

But waste not thy good alway.

Have hat of floures fresh as May,

Chapelet of roses of Whitsonday;

For sich array ne cost but lyte.

2280

Thyn hondis wasshe, thy teeth make whyte,

And let no filthe upon thee be.

Thy nailes blak if thou mayst see,

Voide it awey deliverly,

And kembe thyn heed right Iolily.

2285

[Fard] not thy visage in no wyse,

For that of love is not thempryse;

For love doth haten, as I finde,

A beaute that cometh not of kinde.

Alwey in herte I rede thee

2290

Glad and mery for to be,

And be as Ioyful as thou can;

Love hath no Ioye of sorowful man.

That yvel is ful of curtesye

That [lauhwith] in his maladye;

2295

For ever of love the siknesse

Is meynd with swete and bitternesse.

The sore of love is merveilous;

For now the lover [is] Ioyous,

Now can he pleyne, now can he grone,

2300

Now can he singen, now maken mone.

To-day he pleyneth for hevinesse,

To-morowe he pleyeth for Iolynesse.

[174]

The lyf of love is ful contrarie,

Which stoundemele can ofte varie.

2305

But if thou canst [som] mirthis make,

That men in gree wole gladly take,

Do it goodly, I comaunde thee;

For men sholde, wher-so-ever they be,

Do thing that hem [best] sitting is,

2310

For therof cometh good loos and pris.

Wher-of that thou be vertuous,

Ne be not straunge ne daungerous.

For if that thou good rider be,

Prike gladly, that men may se.

2315

In armes also if thou conne,

Pursue, til thou a name hast wonne.

And if thy voice be fair and clere,

Thou shalt maken no gret daungere

Whan to singe they goodly preye;

2320

It is thy worship for to obeye.

Also to you it longith ay

To harpe and giterne, daunce and play;

For if he can wel foote and daunce,

It may him greetly do avaunce.

2325

Among eek, for thy lady sake,

Songes and complayntes that thou make;

For that wol meve [hem] in hir herte,

Whan they reden of thy smerte.

Loke that no man for scarce thee holde,

2330

For that may greve thee manyfolde.

Resoun wol that a lover be

In his yiftes more large and free

Than cherles that been not of loving.

For who ther-of can any thing,

2335

He shal be leef ay for to yeve,

In [Loves] lore who so wolde leve;

For he that, through a sodeyn sight,

Or for a kissing, anon-right

Yaf hool his herte in wille and thought,

2340

And to him-silf kepith right nought,

Aftir [swich yift], is good resoun,

He yeve his good in abandoun.

'Now wol I shortly here reherce,

Of that [that] I have seid in verse,

2345

Al the sentence by and by,

In wordis fewe compendiously,

That thou the bet mayst on hem thinke,

Whether-so it be thou wake or winke;

For [that] the wordis litel greve

2350

A man to kepe, whanne it is breve.

'Who-so with Love wol goon or ryde

He mot be curteys, and void of pryde,

Mery and fulle of Iolite,

And of largesse alosed be.

2355

'First I Ioyne thee, here in penaunce,

That ever, withoute repentaunce,

Thou set thy thought in thy loving,

To laste withoute repenting;

And thenke upon thy mirthis swete,

2360

That shal folowe aftir whan ye mete.

[175]

'And for thou trewe to love shalt be,

I wol, and [eek] comaunde thee,

That in oo place thou sette, al hool,

Thyn herte, withouten halfen dool,

2365

For trecherie, [in] sikernesse;

For I lovede never doublenesse.

To many his herte that wol depart,

Everiche shal have but litel part.

But of him drede I me right nought,

2370

That in oo place settith his thought.

Therfore in oo place it sette,

And lat it never thennes flette.

For if thou yevest it in lening,

I holde it but a wrecchid thing:

2375

Therfore yeve it hool and quyte,

And thou shalt have the more merite.

If it be lent, than aftir soon,

The bountee and the thank is doon;

But, in love, free yeven thing

2380

Requyrith a gret guerdoning.

Yeve it in yift al quit fully,

And make thy yift debonairly;

For men that yift [wol] holde more dere

That yeven is with gladsome chere.

2385

That yift nought to preisen is

That man yeveth, maugre his.

Whan thou hast yeven thyn herte, as I

Have seid thee here [al] openly,

Than aventures shulle thee falle,

2390

Which harde and hevy been withalle.

For ofte whan thou bithenkist thee

Of thy loving, wher-so thou be,

Fro folk thou must depart in hy,

That noon perceyve thy malady,

2395

But hyde thyn harm thou must alone,

And go forth sole, and make thy mone.

Thou shalt no whyl be in oo stat,

But whylom cold and whylom hat;

Now reed as rose, now yelowe and fade.

2400

Such sorowe, I trowe, thou never hade;

Cotidien, ne [yit] quarteyne,

It is nat so ful of peyne.

For ofte tymes it shal falle

In love, among thy peynes alle,

2405

That thou thy-self, al hoolly,

Foryeten shalt so utterly,

That many tymes thou shalt be

Stille as an image of tree,

Dom as a stoon, without stering

2410

Of foot or hond, without speking.

Than, sone after al thy peyne,

To memorie shalt thou come ageyn,

As man abasshed wondre sore,

And after sighen more and more.

2415

For wit thou wel, withouten wene,

In swich astat ful oft have been

That have the yvel of love assayd,

Wher-through thou art so dismayd.

'After, a thought shal take thee so,

2420

That thy love is to fer thee fro:

Thou shalt say, "God, what may this be,

That I ne may my lady see?

Myne herte aloon is to her go,

And I abyde al sole in wo,

[176]

2425

Departed fro myn owne thought,

And with myne eyen see right nought.

'"Alas, myn eyen sende I ne may,

My careful herte to convay!

Myn hertes gyde but they be,

2430

I praise no-thing what ever they see.

Shul they abyde thanne? nay;

But goon visyte without delay

That myn herte desyreth so.

For certeynly, but-if they go,

2435

A fool my-self I may wel holde,

Whan I ne see what myn herte wolde.

Wherfore I wol gon her to seen,

Or esed shal I never been,

But I have som tokening."

2440

Then gost thou forth without dwelling;

But ofte thou faylest of thy desyre,

Er thou mayst come hir any nere,

And wastest in vayn thy passage.

Than fallest thou in a newe rage;

2445

For want of sight thou ginnest morne,

And homward pensif dost retorne.

In greet mischeef than shall thou be,

For than agayn shal come to thee

Sighes and pleyntes, with newe wo,

2450

That no icching prikketh so.

Who wot it nought, he may go lere

Of hem that byen love so dere.

'No-thing thyn herte appesen may,

That oft thou wolt goon and assay,

2455

If thou mayst seen, by aventure,

Thy lyves joy, thyn hertis cure;

So that, by grace if thou might

Atteyne of hir to have a sight,

Than shall thou doon non other dede

2460

But with that sight thyn eyen fede.

That faire fresh whan thou mayst see,

Thyn herte shal so ravisshed be,

That never thou woldest, thy thankis, lete,

Ne remove, for to see that swete.

2465

The more thou seest in sothfastnesse,

The more thou coveytest of that swetnesse;

The more thyn herte brenneth in fyr,

The more thyn herte is in desyr.

For who considreth every del,

2470

It may be lykned wondir wel,

The peyne of love, unto a fere;

For ever [the] more thou neighest nere

Thought, or who-so that it be,

For verray sothe I telle it thee,

2475

The hatter ever shal thou brenne,

As experience shal thee kenne.

Wher-so [thou] comest in any cost,

Who is next fyr, he brenneth most.

And yit forsothe, for al thyn hete,

2480

Though thou for love swelte and swete,

Ne for no-thing thou felen may,

Thou shalt not willen to passe away.

And though thou go, yet must thee nede

Thenke al-day on hir fairhede,

[177]

2485

Whom thou bihelde with so good wille;

And holde thysilf bigyled ille,

That thou ne haddest non hardement

To shewe hir ought of thyn entent.

Thyn herte ful sore thou wolt dispyse,

2490

And eek repreve of cowardyse,

That thou, so dulle in every thing,

Were dom for drede, without speking.

Thou shalt eek thenke thou didest foly,

That thou were hir so faste by,

2495

And durst not auntre thee to say

Som-thing, er thou cam away;

For thou haddist no more wonne,

To speke of hir whan thou bigonne:

But yif she wolde, for thy sake,

2500

In armes goodly thee have take,

It shulde have be more worth to thee

Than of tresour greet plentee.

'Thus shalt thou morne and eek compleyn,

And gete enchesoun to goon ageyn

2505

Unto thy walk, or to thy place,

Where thou biheld hir fleshly face.

And never, for fals suspeccioun,

Thou woldest finde occasioun

For to gon unto hir hous.

2510

So art thou thanne desirous

A sight of hir for to have,

If thou thine honour mightest save,

Or any erand mightist make

Thider, for thy loves sake;

2515

Ful fayn thou woldist, but for drede

Thou gost not, lest that men take hede.

Wherfore I rede, in thy going,

And also in thyn ageyn-coming,

Thou be wel war that men ne wit;

2520

Feyne thee other cause than it

To go that weye, or faste by;

To hele wel is no folye.

And if so be it happe thee

That thou thy love ther mayst see,

2525

In siker wyse thou hir salewe,

Wherwith thy colour wol transmewe,

And eke thy blood shal al to-quake,

Thyn hewe eek chaungen for hir sake.

But word and wit, with chere ful pale,

2530

Shul wante for to telle thy tale.

And if thou mayst so fer-forth winne,

That thou [thy] resoun durst biginne,

And woldist seyn three thingis or mo,

Thou shalt ful scarsly seyn the two.

2535

Though thou bithenke thee never so wel,

Thou shalt foryete yit somdel,

But-if thou dele with trecherye.

For fals lovers mowe al folye

Seyn, what hem lust, withouten drede,

2540

They be so double in hir falshede;

For they in herte cunne thenke a thing

And seyn another, in hir speking.

And whan thy speche is endid al,

Right thus to thee it shal bifal;

[178]

2545

If any word than come to minde,

That thou to seye hast left bihinde,

Than thou shalt brenne in greet martyr;

For thou shalt brenne as any fyr.

This is the stryf and eke the affray,

2550

And the batail that lastith ay.

This bargeyn ende may never take,

But-if that she thy pees wil make.

'And whan the night is comen, anon

A thousand angres shal come upon.

2555

To bedde as fast thou wolt thee dight,

Where thou shalt have but smal delyt;

For whan thou wenest for to slepe,

So ful of peyne shalt thou crepe,

Sterte in thy bedde aboute ful wyde,

2560

And turne ful ofte on every syde;

Now dounward groffe, and now upright,

And walowe in wo the longe night,

Thyne armis shalt thou sprede a-brede,

As man in werre were forwerreyd.

2565

Than shal thee come a remembraunce

Of hir shape and hir semblaunce,

Wherto non other may be pere.

And wite thou wel, withoute were,

That thee shal [seme], somtyme that night,

2570

That thou hast hir, that is so bright,

Naked bitwene thyn armes there,

Al sothfastnesse as though it were.

Thou shalt make castels than in Spayne,

And dreme of Ioye, al but in vayne,

2575

And thee delyten of right nought,

Whyl thou so slomrest in that thought,

That is so swete and delitable,

The which, in soth, nis but a fable,

For it ne shal no whyle laste.

2580

Than shalt thou sighe and wepe faste,

And say, "Dere god, what thing is this?

My dreme is turned al amis,

Which was ful swete and apparent,

But now I wake, it is al shent!

2585

Now yede this mery thought away!

Twenty tymes upon a day

I wolde this thought wolde come ageyn,

For it alleggith wel my peyn.

It makith me ful of Ioyful thought,

2590

It sleeth me, that it lastith noght.

A, lord! why nil ye me socoure,

The Ioye, I trowe, that I langoure?

The deth I wolde me shulde slo

Whyl I lye in hir armes two.

2595

Myn harm is hard, withouten wene,

My greet unese ful ofte I mene.

But wolde Love do so I might

Have fully Ioye of hir so bright,

My peyne were quit me richely.

2600

Allas, to greet a thing aske I!

It is but foly, and wrong wening,

To aske so outrageous a thing.

And who-so askith folily,

He moot be warned hastily;

2605

And I ne wot what I may say,

I am so fer out of the way;

For I wolde have ful gret lyking

And ful gret Ioye of lasse thing.

[179]

For wolde she, of hir gentilnesse,

2610

Withouten more, me onis kesse,

It were to me a greet guerdoun,

Relees of al my passioun.

But it is hard to come therto;

Al is but foly that I do,

2615

So high I have myn herte set,

Where I may no comfort get.

I noot wher I sey wel or nought;

But this I wot wel in my thought,

That it were bet of hir aloon,

2620

For to stinte my wo and moon,

A loke on [me] y-cast goodly,

[Than] for to have, al utterly,

Of another al hool the pley.

A! lord! wher I shal byde the day

2625

That ever she shal my lady be?

He is ful cured that may hir see.

A! god! whan shal the dawning spring?

To ly thus is an angry thing;

I have no Ioye thus here to ly

2630

Whan that my love is not me by.

A man to lyen hath gret disese,

Which may not slepe ne reste in ese.

I wolde it dawed, and were now day,

And that the night were went away;

2635

For were it day, I wolde upryse.

A! slowe sonne, shew thyn enpryse!

Speed thee to sprede thy bemis bright,

And chace the derknesse of the night,

To putte away the stoundes stronge,

2640

Which in me lasten al to longe."

'The night shalt thou contene so,

Withoute rest, in peyne and wo;

If ever thou knewe of love distresse,

Thou shalt mowe lerne in that siknesse.

2645

And thus enduring shalt thou ly,

And ryse on morwe up erly

Out of thy bedde, and harneys thee

Er ever dawning thou mayst see.

Al privily than shalt thou goon,

2650

What [weder] it be, thy-silf aloon,

For reyn, or hayl, for snow, for slete,

Thider she dwellith that is so swete,

The which may falle aslepe be,

And thenkith but litel upon thee.

2655

Than shalt thou goon, ful foule aferd;

Loke if the gate be unsperd,

And waite without in wo and peyn,

Ful yvel a-cold in winde and reyn.

Than shal thou go the dore bifore,

2660

If thou maist fynde any score,

Or hole, or reft, what ever it were;

Than shalt thou stoupe, and lay to ere,

If they within a-slepe be;

I mene, alle save thy lady free.

2665

Whom waking if thou mayst aspye,

Go put thy-silf in Iupartye,

To aske grace, and thee bimene,

That she may wite, withouten wene,

That thou [a]night no rest hast had,

2670

So sore for hir thou were bistad.

Wommen wel ought pite to take

Of hem that sorwen for hir sake.

And loke, for love of that relyke,

That thou thenke non other lyke,

[180]

2675

For [whom] thou hast so greet annoy,

Shal kisse thee er thou go away,

And hold that in ful gret deyntee.

And, for that no man shal thee see

Bifore the hous, ne in the way,

2680

Loke thou be goon ageyn er day.

Suche coming, and such going,

Such hevinesse, and such walking,

Makith lovers, withouten wene,

Under hir clothes pale and lene,

2685

For Love leveth colour ne cleernesse;

Who loveth trewe hath no fatnesse.

Thou shalt wel by thy-selfe see

That thou must nedis assayed be.

For men that shape hem other wey

2690

Falsly her ladies to bitray,

It is no wonder though they be fat;

With false othes hir loves they gat;

For oft I see suche losengeours

Fatter than abbatis or priours.

2695

'Yet with o thing I thee charge,

That is to seye, that thou be large

Unto the mayd that hir doth serve,

So best hir thank thou shalt deserve.

Yeve hir yiftes, and get hir grace,

2700

For so thou may [hir] thank purchace,

That she thee worthy holde and free,

Thy lady, and alle that may thee see.

Also hir servauntes worshipe ay,

And plese as muche as thou may;

2705

Gret good through hem may come to thee,

Bicause with hir they been prive.

They shal hir telle how they thee fand

Curteis and wys, and wel doand,

And she shal preyse [thee] wel the mare.

2710

Loke out of londe thou be not fare;

And if such cause thou have, that thee

Bihoveth to gon out of contree,

Leve hool thyn herte in hostage,

Til thou ageyn make thy passage.

2715

Thenk long to see the swete thing

That hath thyn herte in hir keping.

'Now have I told thee, in what wyse

A lover shal do me servyse.

Do it than, if thou wolt have

2720

The mede that thou aftir crave.'

Whan Love al this had boden me,

I seide him:—'Sire, how may it be

That lovers may in such manere

Endure the peyne ye have seid here?

2725

I merveyle me wonder faste,

How any man may live or laste

In such peyne, and such brenning,

In sorwe and thought, and such sighing,

Ay unrelesed wo to make,

2730

Whether so it be they slepe or wake.

In such annoy continuely,

As helpe me god, this merveile I,

[181]

How man, but he were maad of stele,

Might live a month, such peynes to fele.'

2735

The God of Love than seide me,

Freend, by the feith I owe to thee,

May no man have good, but he it by.

A man loveth more tendirly

The thing that he hath bought most dere.

2740

For wite thou wel, withouten were,

In thank that thing is taken more,

For which a man hath suffred sore.

Certis, no wo ne may atteyne

Unto the sore of loves peyne.

2745

Non yvel therto ne may amounte,

No more than a man [may] counte

The dropes that of the water be.

For drye as wel the grete see

Thou mightist, as the harmes telle

2750

Of hem that with Love dwelle

In servyse; for peyne hem sleeth,

And that ech man wolde flee the deeth,

And trowe they shulde never escape,

Nere that hope couthe hem make

2755

Glad as man in prisoun set,

And may not geten for to et

But barly-breed, and watir pure,

And lyeth in vermin and in ordure;

With alle this, yit can he live,

2760

Good hope such comfort hath him yive,

Which maketh wene that he shal be

Delivered and come to liberte;

In fortune is [his] fulle trust.

Though he lye in strawe or dust,

2765

In hope is al his susteyning.

And so for lovers, in hir wening,

Whiche Love hath shit in his prisoun;

Good-Hope is hir salvacioun.

Good-Hope, how sore that they smerte,

2770

Yeveth hem bothe wille and herte

To profre hir body to martyre;

For Hope so sore doth hem desyre

To suffre ech harm that men devyse,

For Ioye that aftir shal aryse.

2775

Hope, in desire [to] cacche victorie;

In Hope, of love is al the glorie,

For Hope is al that love may yive;

Nere Hope, ther shulde no lover live.

Blessid be Hope, which with desyre

2780

Avaunceth lovers in such manere.

Good-Hope is curteis for to plese,

To kepe lovers from al disese.

Hope kepith his lond, and wol abyde,

For any peril that may betyde;

2785

For Hope to lovers, as most cheef,

Doth hem enduren al mischeef;

Hope is her help, whan mister is.

And I shal yeve thee eek, y-wis,

Three other thingis, that greet solas

2790

Doth to hem that be in my las.

'The firste good that may be founde,

To hem that in my lace be bounde,

Is Swete-Thought, for to recorde

Thing wherwith thou canst accorde

[182]

2795

Best in thyn herte, wher she be;

Thought in absence is good to thee.

Whan any lover doth compleyne,

And liveth in distresse and peyne,

Than Swete-Thought shal come, as blyve,

2800

Awey his angre for to dryve.

It makith lovers have remembraunce

Of comfort, and of high plesaunce,

That Hope hath hight him for to winne.

For Thought anoon than shal biginne,

2805

As fer, god wot, as he can finde,

To make a mirrour of his minde;

For to biholde he wol not lette.

Hir person he shal afore him sette,

Hir laughing eyen, persaunt and clere,

2810

Hir shape, hir fourme, hir goodly chere,

Hir mouth that is so gracious,

So swete, and eek so saverous;

Of alle hir fetures he shal take heede,

His eyen with alle hir limes fede.

2815

'Thus Swete-Thenking shal aswage

The peyne of lovers, and hir rage.

Thy Ioye shal double, withoute gesse,

Whan thou thenkist on hir semlinesse,

Or of hir laughing, or of hir chere,

2820

That to thee made thy lady dere.

This comfort wol I that thou take;

And if the next thou wolt forsake

Which is not lesse saverous,

Thou shuldist been to daungerous.

2825

'The secounde shal be Swete-Speche,

That hath to many oon be leche,

To bringe hem out of wo and were,

And helpe many a bachilere;

And many a lady sent socoure,

2830

That have loved par-amour,

Through speking, whan they mighten here

Of hir lovers, to hem so dere.

To [hem] it voidith al hir smerte,

The which is closed in hir herte.

2835

In herte it makith hem glad and light,

Speche, whan they mowe have sight.

And therfore now it cometh to minde,

In olde dawes, as I finde,

That clerkis writen that hir knewe

2840

Ther was a lady fresh of hewe,

Which of hir love made a song

On him for to remembre among,

In which she seide, "Whan that I here

Speken of him that is so dere,

2845

To me it voidith al [my] smerte,

Y-wis, he sit so nere myn herte.

To speke of him, at eve or morwe,

It cureth me of al my sorwe.

To me is noon so high plesaunce

2850

As of his persone daliaunce."

She wist ful wel that Swete-Speking

Comfortith in ful muche thing.

Hir love she had ful wel assayed,

Of him she was ful wel apayed;

[183]

2855

To speke of him hir Ioye was set.

Therfore I rede thee that thou get

A felowe that can wel concele

And kepe thy counsel, and wel hele,

To whom go shewe hoolly thyn herte,

2860

Bothe wele and wo, Ioye and smerte:

To gete comfort to him thou go,

And privily, bitween yow two,

Ye shal speke of that goodly thing,

That hath thyn herte in hir keping;

2865

Of hir beaute and hir semblaunce,

And of hir goodly countenaunce.

Of al thy state thou shalt him sey,

And aske him counseil how thou may

Do any thing that may hir plese;

2870

For it to thee shal do gret ese,

That he may wite thou trust him so,

Bothe of thy wele and of thy wo.

And if his herte to love be set,

His companye is muche the bet,

2875

For resoun wol, he shewe to thee

Al uttirly his privite;

And what she is he loveth so,

To thee pleynly he shal undo,

Withoute drede of any shame,

2880

Bothe telle hir renoun and hir name.

Than shal he forther, ferre and nere,

And namely to thy lady dere,

In siker wyse; ye, every other

Shal helpen as his owne brother,

2885

In trouthe withoute doublenesse,

And kepen cloos in sikernesse.

For it is noble thing, in fay,

To have a man thou darst say

Thy prive counsel every del;

2890

For that wol comfort thee right wel,

And thou shall holde thee wel apayed,

Whan such a freend thou hast assayed.

'The thridde good of greet comfort

That yeveth to lovers most disport,

2895

Comith of sight and biholding,

That clepid is Swete-Loking,

The whiche may noon ese do,

Whan thou art fer thy lady fro;

Wherfore thou prese alwey to be

2900

In place, where thou mayst hir se.

For it is thing most amerous,

Most delitable and saverous,

For to aswage a mannes sorowe,

To sene his lady by the morowe.

2905

For it is a ful noble thing

Whan thyn eyen have meting

With that relyke precious,

Wherof they be so desirous.

But al day after, soth it is,

2910

They have no drede to faren amis,

They dreden neither wind ne reyn,

Ne [yit] non other maner peyn.

For whan thyn eyen were thus in blis,

Yit of hir curtesye, y-wis,

2915

Aloon they can not have hir Ioye,

But to the herte they [it] convoye;

Part of hir blis to him [they] sende,

Of al this harm to make an ende.

[184]

The eye is a good messangere,

2920

Which can to the herte in such manere

Tidyngis sende, that [he] hath seen,

To voide him of his peynes cleen.

Wherof the herte reioyseth so

That a gret party of his wo

2925

Is voided, and put awey to flight.

Right as the derknesse of the night

Is chased with clerenesse of the mone,

Right so is al his wo ful sone

Devoided clene, whan that the sight

2930

Biholden may that fresshe wight

That the herte desyreth so,

That al his derknesse is ago;

For than the herte is al at ese,

Whan they seen that [that] may hem plese.

2935

'Now have I thee declared alout,

Of that thou were in drede and dout;

For I have told thee feithfully

What thee may curen utterly,

And alle lovers that wole be

2940

Feithful, and ful of stabilite.

Good-Hope alwey kepe by thy syde,

And Swete-Thought make eek abyde,

Swete-Loking and Swete-Speche;

Of alle thyn harmes they shal be leche.

2945

Of every thou shalt have greet plesaunce;

If thou canst byde in sufferaunce,

And serve wel without feyntyse,

Thou shalt be quit of thyn empryse,

With more guerdoun, if that thou live;

2950

But al this tyme this I thee yive.'

The God of Love whan al the day

Had taught me, as ye have herd say,

And enfourmed compendiously,

He vanished awey al sodeynly,

2955

And I alone lefte, al sole,

So ful of compleynt and of dole,

For I saw no man ther me by.

My woundes me greved wondirly;

Me for to curen no-thing I knew,

2960

Save the botoun bright of hew,

Wheron was set hoolly my thought;

Of other comfort knew I nought,

But it were through the God of Love;

I knew nat elles to my bihove

2965

That might me ese or comfort gete,

But-if he wolde him entermete.

The roser was, withoute doute,

Closed with an hegge withoute,

As ye to-forn have herd me seyn;

2970

And fast I bisied, and wolde fayn

Have passed the haye, if I might

Have geten in by any slight

Unto the botoun so fair to see.

But ever I dradde blamed to be,

2975

If men wolde have suspeccioun

That I wolde of entencioun

[185]

Have stole the roses that ther were;

Therfore to entre I was in fere.

But at the last, as I bithought

2980

Whether I sholde passe or nought,

I saw come with a gladde chere

To me, a lusty bachelere,

Of good stature, and of good hight,

And Bialacoil forsothe he hight.

2985

Sone he was to Curtesy,

And he me graunted ful gladly

The passage of the outer hay,

And seide:—'Sir, how that ye may

Passe, if [it] your wille be,

2990

The fresshe roser for to see,

And ye the swete savour fele.

Your warrant may [I be] right wele;

So thou thee kepe fro folye,

Shal no man do thee vilanye.

2995

If I may helpe you in ought,

I shal not feyne, dredeth nought;

For I am bounde to your servyse,

Fully devoide of feyntyse.'

Than unto Bialacoil saide I,

3000

'I thank you, sir, ful hertely,

And your biheest [I] take at gree,

That ye so goodly prefer me;

To you it cometh of greet fraunchyse,

That ye me prefer your servyse.'

3005

Than aftir, ful deliverly,

Through the breres anoon wente I,

Wherof encombred was the hay.

I was wel plesed, the soth to say,

To see the botoun fair and swote,

3010

So fresshe spronge out of the rote.

And Bialacoil me served wel,

Whan I so nygh me mighte fele

Of the botoun the swete odour,

And so lusty hewed of colour.

3015

But than a cherl (foule him bityde!)

Bisyde the roses gan him hyde,

To kepe the roses of that roser,

Of whom the name was Daunger.

This cherl was hid there in the greves,

3020

Covered with grasse and with leves,

To spye and take whom that he fond

Unto that roser putte an hond.

He was not sole, for ther was mo;

For with him were other two

3025

Of wikkid maners, and yvel fame.

That oon was clepid, by his name,

Wikked-Tonge, god yeve him sorwe!

For neither at eve, ne at morwe,

He can of no man [no] good speke;

3030

On many a Iust man doth he wreke.

Ther was a womman eek, that hight

Shame, that, who can reken right,

Trespas was hir fadir name,

Hir moder Resoun; and thus was Shame

3035

[On lyve] brought of these ilk two.

And yit had Trespas never ado

[186]

With Resoun, ne never ley hir by,

He was so hidous and ugly,

I mene, this that Trespas hight;

3040

But Resoun conceyveth, of a sight,

Shame, of that I spak aforn.

And whan that Shame was thus born,

It was ordeyned, that Chastitee

Shulde of the roser lady be,

3045

Which, of the botouns more and las,

With sondry folk assailed was,

That she ne wiste what to do.

For Venus hir assailith so,

That night and day from hir she stal

3050

Botouns and roses over-al.

To Resoun than prayeth Chastitee,

Whom Venus flemed over the see,

That she hir doughter wolde hir lene,

To kepe the roser fresh and grene.

3055

Anoon Resoun to Chastitee

Is fully assented that it be,

And grauntid hir, at hir request,

That Shame, bicause she is honest,

Shal keper of the roser be.

3060

And thus to kepe it ther were three,

That noon shulde hardy be ne bold

(Were he yong, or were he old)

Ageyn hir wille awey to bere

Botouns ne roses, that ther were.

3065

I had wel sped, had I not been

Awayted with these three, and seen.

For Bialacoil, that was so fair,

So gracious and debonair,

Quitte him to me ful curteisly,

3070

And, me to plese, bad that I

Shuld drawe me to the botoun nere;

Prese in, to touche the rosere

Which bar the roses, he yaf me leve;

This graunt ne might but litel greve.

3075

And for he saw it lyked me,

Right nygh the botoun pullede he

A leef al grene, and yaf me that,

The which ful nygh the botoun sat;

I made [me] of that leef ful queynt.

3080

And whan I felte I was aqueynt

With Bialacoil, and so prive,

I wende al at my wille had be.

Than wex I hardy for to tel

To Bialacoil how me bifel

3085

Of Love, that took and wounded me,

And seide: 'Sir, so mote I thee,

I may no loye have in no wyse,

Upon no syde, but it ryse;

For sithe (if I shal not feyne)

3090

In herte I have had so gret peyne,

So gret annoy, and such affray,

That I ne wot what I shal say;

I drede your wrath to disserve.

Lever me were, that knyves kerve

3095

My body shulde in pecis smalle,

Than in any wyse it shulde falle

[187]

That ye wratthed shulde been with me.'

Sey boldely thy wille,' quod he,

I nil be wroth, if that I may,

3100

For nought that thou shalt to me say.'

Thanne seide I, 'Sir, not you displese

To knowen of my greet unese,

In which only love hath me brought;

For peynes greet, disese and thought,

3105

Fro day to day he doth me drye;

Supposeth not, sir, that I lye.

In me fyve woundes dide he make,

The sore of whiche shal never slake

But ye the botoun graunte me,

3110

Which is most passaunt of beautee,

My lyf, my deth, and my martyre,

And tresour that I most desyre.'

Than Bialacoil, affrayed all,

Seyde, 'Sir, it may not fall;

3115

That ye desire, it may not ryse.

What? wolde ye shende me in this wyse?

A mochel foole than I were,

If I suffrid you awey to bere

The fresh botoun, so fair of sight.

3120

For it were neither skile ne right

Of the roser ye broke the rind,

Or take the rose aforn his kind;

Ye ar not courteys to aske it.

Lat it stil on the roser sit,

3125

And growe til it amended be,

And parfitly come to beaute.

I nolde not that it pulled wer

Fro the roser that it ber,

To me it is so leef and dere.'

3130

With that sterte out anoon Daungere,

Out of the place where he was hid.

His malice in his chere was kid;

Ful greet he was, and blak of hewe,

Sturdy and hidous, who-so him knewe;

3135

Like sharp urchouns his here was growe,

His eyes rede as the fire-glow;

His nose frounced ful kirked stood,

He com criand as he were wood,

And seide, 'Bialacoil, tel me why

3140

Thou bringest hider so boldly

Him that so nygh [is] the roser?

Thou worchist in a wrong maner;

He thenkith to dishonour thee,

Thou art wel worthy to have maugree

3145

To late him of the roser wit;

Who serveth a feloun is yvel quit.

Thou woldist have doon greet bountee,

And he with shame wolde quyte thee.

Flee hennes, felowe! I rede thee go!

3150

It wanteth litel I wol thee slo;

For Bialacoil ne knew thee nought,

Whan thee to serve he sette his thought;

For thou wolt shame him, if thou might,

Bothe ageyn resoun and right.

[188]

3155

I wol no more in thee affye,

That comest so slyghly for tespye;

For it preveth wonder wel,

Thy slight and tresoun every del.'

I durst no more ther make abode,

3160

For the cherl, he was so wode;

So gan he threten and manace,

And thurgh the haye he did me chace.

For feer of him I tremblid and quook,

So cherlishly his heed he shook;

3165

And seide, if eft he might me take,

I shulde not from his hondis scape.

Than Bialacoil is fled and mate,

And I al sole, disconsolate,

Was left aloon in peyne and thought;

3170

For shame, to deth I was nygh brought.

Than thought I on myn high foly,

How that my body, utterly,

Was yeve to peyne and to martyre;

And therto hadde I so gret yre,

3175

That I ne durst the hayes passe;

There was non hope, there was no grace.

I trowe never man wiste of peyne,

But he were laced in Loves cheyne;

Ne no man [wot], and sooth it is,

3180

But-if he love, what anger is.

Love holdith his heest to me right wele,

Whan peyne he seide I shulde fele.

Non herte may thenke, ne tunge seyne,

A quarter of my wo and peyne.

3185

I might not with the anger laste;

Myn herte in poynt was for to braste,

Whan I thought on the rose, that so

Was through Daunger cast me froo.

A long whyl stood I in that state,

3190

Til that me saugh so mad and mate

The lady of the highe ward,

Which from hir tour lokid thiderward.

Resoun men clepe that lady,

Which from hir tour deliverly

3195

Come doun to me withouten more.

But she was neither yong, ne hore,

Ne high ne low, ne fat ne lene,

But best, as it were in a mene.

Hir eyen two were cleer and light

3200

As any candel that brenneth bright;

And on hir heed she hadde a crown.

Hir semede wel an high persoun;

For rounde enviroun, hir crownet

Was ful of riche stonis fret.

3205

Hir goodly semblaunt, by devys,

I trowe were maad in paradys;

Nature had never such a grace,

To forge a werk of such compace.

For certeyn, but the letter lye,

3210

God him-silf, that is so high,

Made hir aftir his image,

And yaf hir sith sich avauntage,

That she hath might and seignorye

To kepe men from al folye;

3215

Who-so wole trowe hir lore,

Ne may offenden nevermore.

And whyl I stood thus derk and pale,

Resoun bigan to me hir tale;

[189]

She seide: 'Al hayl, my swete frend!

3220

Foly and childhood wol thee shend,

Which thee have put in greet affray;

Thou hast bought dere the tyme of May,

That made thyn herte mery to be.

In yvel tyme thou wentist to see

3225

The gardin, wherof Ydilnesse

Bar the keye, and was maistresse

Whan thou yedest in the daunce

With hir, and haddest aqueyntaunce:

Hir aqueyntaunce is perilous,

3230

First softe, and aftir[ward] noyous;

She hath [thee] trasshed, withoute ween;

The God of Love had thee not seen,

Ne hadde Ydilnesse thee conveyed

In the verger where Mirthe him pleyed.

3235

If Foly have supprised thee,

Do so that it recovered be;

And be wel war to take no more

Counsel, that greveth aftir sore;

He is wys that wol himsilf chastyse.

3240

And though a young man in any wyse

Trespace among, and do foly,

Lat him not tarye, but hastily

Lat him amende what so be mis.

And eek I counseile thee, y-wis,

3245

The God of Love hoolly foryet,

That hath thee in sich peyne set,

And thee in herte tormented so.

I can nat seen how thou mayst go

Other weyes to garisoun;

3250

For Daunger, that is so feloun,

Felly purposith thee to werrey,

Which is ful cruel, the soth to sey.

'And yit of Daunger cometh no blame,

In reward of my doughter Shame,

3255

Which hath the roses in hir warde,

As she that may be no musarde.

And Wikked-Tunge is with these two,

That suffrith no man thider go;

For er a thing be do, he shal,

3260

Where that he cometh, over-al,

In fourty places, if it be sought,

Seye thing that never was doon ne wrought;

So moche tresoun is in his male,

Of falsnesse for to [feyne] a tale.

3265

Thou delest with angry folk, y-wis;

Wherfor to thee [it] bettir is

From these folk awey to fare,

For they wol make thee live in care.

This is the yvel that Love they calle,

3270

Wherin ther is but foly alle,

For love is foly everydel;

Who loveth, in no wyse may do wel,

Ne sette his thought on no good werk.

His scole he lesith, if he be clerk;

3275

Of other craft eek if he be,

He shal not thryve therin; for he

In love shal have more passioun

Than monke, hermyte, or chanoun.

The peyne is hard, out of mesure,

3280

The Ioye may eek no whyl endure;

[190]

And in the possessioun

Is muche tribulacioun;

The Ioye it is so short-lasting,

And but in happe is the geting;

3285

For I see ther many in travaille,

That atte laste foule fayle.

I was no-thing thy counseler,

Whan thou were maad the homager

Of God of Love to hastily;

3290

Ther was no wisdom, but foly.

Thyn herte was Ioly, but not sage,

Whan thou were brought in sich a rage,

To yelde thee so redily,

And to Love, of his gret maistry.

3295

'I rede thee Love awey to dryve,

That makith thee recche not of thy lyve.

The foly more fro day to day

Shal growe, but thou it putte away.

Take with thy teeth the bridel faste,

3300

To daunte thyn herte; and eek thee caste,

If that thou mayst, to gete defence

For to redresse thy first offence.

Who-so his herte alwey wol leve,

Shal finde among that shal him greve'

3305

Whan I hir herd thus me chastyse,

I answerd in ful angry wyse.

I prayed hir cessen of hir speche,

Outher to chastyse me or teche,

To bidde me my thought refreyne,

3310

Which Love hath caught in his demeyne:—

What? wene ye Love wol consent,

That me assailith with bowe bent,

To draw myn herte out of his honde,

Which is so quikly in his bonde?

3315

That ye counsayle, may never be;

For whan he first arested me,

He took myn herte so hool him til,

That it is no-thing at my wil;

He [taughte] it so him for to obey,

3320

That he it sparred with a key.

I pray yow lat me be al stille.

For ye may wel, if that ye wille,

Your wordis waste in idilnesse;

For utterly, withouten gesse,

3325

Al that ye seyn is but in veyne.

Me were lever dye in the peyne,

Than Love to me-ward shulde arette

Falsheed, or tresoun on me sette.

I wol me gete prys or blame,

3330

And love trewe, to save my name;

Who me chastysith, I him hate.'

With that word Resoun wente hir gate,

Whan she saugh for no sermoning

She might me fro my foly bring.

3335

Than dismayed, I lefte al sool,

Forwery, forwandred as a fool,

For I ne knew no chevisaunce.

Than fel into my remembraunce,

How Love bade me to purveye

3340

A felowe, to whom I mighte seye

My counsel and my privete,

For that shulde muche availe me.

With that bithought I me, that I

Hadde a felowe faste by,

[191]

3345

Trewe and siker, curteys, and hend,

And he was called by name a Freend;

A trewer felowe was no-wher noon.

In haste to him I wente anoon,

And to him al my wo I tolde,

3350

Fro him right nought I wold withholde.

I tolde him al withoute were,

And made my compleynt on Daungere,

How for to see he was hidous,

And to-me-ward contrarious;

3355

The whiche through his cruelte

Was in poynt to have meygned me;

With Bialacoil whan he me sey

Within the gardyn walke and pley,

Fro me he made him for to go,

3360

And I bilefte aloon in wo;

I durst no lenger with him speke,

For Daunger seide he wolde be wreke,

Whan that he sawe how I wente

The fresshe botoun for to hente,

3365

If I were hardy to come neer

Bitwene the hay and the roser.

This Freend, whan he wiste of my thought,

He discomforted me right nought,

But seide, 'Felowe, be not so mad,

3370

Ne so abaysshed nor bistad.

My-silf I knowe ful wel Daungere,

And how he is feers of his chere,

At prime temps, Love to manace;

Ful ofte I have ben in his caas.

3375

A feloun first though that he be,

Aftir thou shalt him souple see.

Of long passed I knew him wele;

Ungoodly first though men him fele,

He wol meek aftir, in his bering,

3380

Been, for service and obeysshing.

I shal thee telle what thou shalt do.—

Mekely I rede thou go him to,

Of herte pray him specialy

Of thy trespace to have mercy,

3385

And hote him wel, [him] here to plese,

That thou shalt nevermore him displese.

Who can best serve of flatery,

Shal plese Daunger most uttirly.'

My Freend hath seid to me so wel,

3390

That he me esid hath somdel,

And eek allegged of my torment;

For through him had I hardement

Agayn to Daunger for to go,

To preve if I might meke him so.

3395

To Daunger cam I, al ashamed,

The which aforn me hadde blamed,

Desyring for to pese my wo;

But over hegge durst I not go,

For he forbad me the passage.

3400

I fond him cruel in his rage,

And in his hond a gret burdoun.

To him I knelid lowe adoun,

Ful meke of port, and simple of chere,

And seide, 'Sir, I am comen here

3405

Only to aske of you mercy.

That greveth me, [sir], ful gretly

That ever my lyf I wratthed you,

But for to amende I am come now,

[192]

With al my might, bothe loude and stille,

3410

To doon right at your owne wille;

For Love made me for to do

That I have trespassed hidirto;

Fro whom I ne may withdrawe myn herte;

Yit shal I never, for Ioy ne smerte,

3415

What so bifalle, good or ille,

Offende more ageyn your wille.

Lever I have endure disese

Than do that shulde you displese.

'I you require and pray, that ye

3420

Of me have mercy and pitee,

To stinte your yre that greveth so,

That I wol swere for evermo

To be redressid at your lyking,

If I trespasse in any thing;

3425

Save that I pray thee graunte me

A thing that may nat warned be,

That I may love, al only;

Non other thing of you aske I.

I shal doon elles wel, y-wis,

3430

If of your grace ye graunte me this.

And ye [ne] may not letten me,

For wel wot ye that love is free,

And I shal loven, [sith] that I wil,

Who-ever lyke it wel or il;

3435

And yit ne wold I, for al Fraunce,

Do thing to do you displesaunce.'

Than Daunger fil in his entent

For to foryeve his maltalent;

But al his wratthe yit at laste

3440

He hath relesed, I preyde so faste:

Shortly he seide, 'Thy request

Is not to mochel dishonest;

Ne I wol not werne it thee,

For yit no-thing engreveth me.

3445

For though thou love thus evermore,

To me is neither softe ne sore.

Love wher thee list; what recchith me,

So [thou] fer fro my roses be?

Trust not on me, for noon assay,

3450

In any tyme to passe the hay.'

Thus hath he graunted my prayere.

Than wente I forth, withouten were,

Unto my Freend, and tolde him al,

Which was right Ioyful of my tale.

3455

He seide, 'Now goth wel thyn affaire,

He shal to thee be debonaire.

Though he aforn was dispitous,

He shal heeraftir be gracious.

If he were touchid on som good veyne,

3460

He shuld yit rewen on thy peyne.

Suffire, I rede, and no boost make,

Til thou at good mes mayst him take.

By suffraunce, and [by] wordis softe,

A man may overcomen ofte

3465

Him that aforn he hadde in drede,

In bookis sothly as I rede.'

Thus hath my Freend with gret comfort

Avaunced me with high disport,

Which wolde me good as mich as I.

3470

And thanne anoon ful sodeynly

[193]

I took my leve, and streight I went

Unto the hay; for gret talent

I had to seen the fresh botoun,

Wherin lay my salvacioun;

3475

And Daunger took kepe, if that I

Kepe him covenaunt trewly.

So sore I dradde his manasing,

I durst not breke[n] his bidding;

For, lest that I were of him shent,

3480

I brak not his comaundement,

For to purchase his good wil.

It was [hard] for to come ther-til,

His mercy was to fer bihinde;

I wepte, for I ne might it finde.

3485

I compleyned and sighed sore,

And languisshed evermore,

For I durst not over go

Unto the rose I loved so.

Thurghout my deming outerly,

3490

[Than] had he knowlege certeinly,

[That] Love me ladde in sich a wyse,

That in me ther was no feyntyse,

Falsheed, ne no trecherye.

And yit he, ful of vilanye,

3495

Of disdeyne, and cruelte,

On me ne wolde have pite,

His cruel wil for to refreyne,

Though I wepe alwey, and compleyne.

And while I was in this torment,

3500

Were come of grace, by god sent,

Fraunchyse, and with hir Pite

Fulfild the botoun of bountee.

They go to Daunger anon-right

To forther me with al hir might,

3505

And helpe in worde and in dede,

For wel they saugh that it was nede.

First, of hir grace, dame Fraunchyse

Hath taken [word] of this empryse:

She seide, 'Daunger, gret wrong ye do

3510

To worche this man so muche wo,

Or pynen him so angerly;

It is to you gret vilany.

I can not see why, ne how,

That he hath trespassed ageyn you,

3515

Save that he loveth; wherfore ye shulde

The more in cherete of him holde.

The force of love makith him do this;

Who wolde him blame he dide amis?

He leseth more than ye may do;

3520

His peyne is hard, ye may see, lo!

And Love in no wyse wolde consente

That [he] have power to repente;

For though that quik ye wolde him sloo,

Fro Love his herte may not go.

3525

Now, swete sir, is it your ese

Him for to angre or disese?

Allas, what may it you avaunce

To doon to him so greet grevaunce?

What worship is it agayn him take,

3530

Or on your man a werre make,

Sith he so lowly every wyse

Is redy, as ye lust devyse?

[194]

If Love hath caught him in his lace,

You for tobeye in every caas,

3535

And been your suget at your wille,

Shulde ye therfore willen him ille?

Ye shulde him spare more, al-out,

Than him that is bothe proud and stout.

Curtesye wol that ye socour

3540

Hem that ben meke undir your cure.

His herte is hard, that wole not meke,

Whan men of mekenesse him biseke.'

'That is certeyn,' seide Pite;

We see ofte that humilitee

3545

Bothe ire, and also felonye

Venquissheth, and also melancolye;

To stonde forth in such duresse,

This crueltee and wikkednesse.

Wherfore I pray you, sir Daungere,

3550

For to mayntene no lenger here

Such cruel werre agayn your man,

As hoolly youres as ever he can;

Nor that ye worchen no more wo

On this caytif that languisshith so,

3555

Which wol no more to you trespasse,

But put him hoolly in your grace.

His offense ne was but lyte;

The God of Love it was to wyte,

That he your thral so gretly is,

3560

And if ye harm him, ye doon amis;

For he hath had ful hard penaunce,

Sith that ye refte him thaqueyntaunce

Of Bialacoil, his moste Ioye,

Which alle his peynes might acoye.

3565

He was biforn anoyed sore,

But than ye doubled him wel more;

For he of blis hath ben ful bare,

Sith Bialacoil was fro him fare.

Love hath to him do greet distresse,

3570

He hath no nede of more duresse.

Voideth from him your ire, I rede;

Ye may not winnen in this dede.

Makith Bialacoil repeire ageyn,

And haveth pite upon his peyn;

3575

For Fraunchise wol, and I, Pite,

That merciful to him ye be;

And sith that she and I accorde,

Have upon him misericorde;

For I you pray, and eek moneste,

3580

Nought to refusen our requeste;

For he is hard and fel of thought,

That for us two wol do right nought.'

Daunger ne might no more endure,

He meked him unto mesure.

3585

'I wol in no wyse,' seith Daungere,

Denye that ye have asked here;

It were to greet uncurtesye.

I wol ye have the companye

Of Bialacoil, as ye devyse;

3590

I wol him letten in no wyse.'

To Bialacoil than wente in hy

Fraunchyse, and seide ful curteisly:—

Ye have to longe be deignous

Unto this lover, and daungerous,

[195]

3595

Fro him to withdrawe your presence,

Which hath do to him grete offence,

That ye not wolde upon him see;

Wherfore a sorowful man is he.

Shape ye to paye him, and to plese,

3600

Of my love if ye wol have ese.

Fulfil his wil, sith that ye knowe

Daunger is daunted and brought lowe

Thurgh help of me and of Pite;

You [thar] no more afered be.'

3605

'I shal do right as ye wil,'

Saith Bialacoil, 'for it is skil,

Sith Daunger wol that it so be.'

Than Fraunchise hath him sent to me.

Bialacoil at the biginning

3610

Salued me in his coming.

No straungenes was in him seen,

No more than he ne had wrathed been.

As faire semblaunt than shewed he me,

And goodly, as aforn did he;

3615

And by the honde, withouten doute,

Within the haye, right al aboute

He ladde me, with right good chere,

Al environ the vergere,

That Daunger had me chased fro.

3620

Now have I leve over-al to go;

Now am I raised, at my devys,

Fro helle unto paradys.

Thus Bialacoil, of gentilnesse,

With alle his peyne and besinesse,

3625

Hath shewed me, only of grace,

The estres of the swote place.

I saw the rose, whan I was nigh,

Was gretter woxen, and more high,

Fresh, rody, and fair of hewe,

3630

Of colour ever yliche newe.

And whan I had it longe seen,

I saugh that through the leves grene

The rose spredde to spanishing;

To sene it was a goodly thing.

3635

But it ne was so spred on brede,

That men within might knowe the sede;

For it covert was and [en]close

Bothe with the leves and with the rose.

The stalk was even and grene upright,

3640

It was theron a goodly sight;

And wel the better, withouten wene,

For the seed was not [y]-sene.

Ful faire it spradde, [god it] blesse!

For suche another, as I gesse,

3645

Aforn ne was, ne more vermayle.

I was abawed for merveyle,

For ever, the fairer that it was,

The more I am bounden in Loves laas.

Longe I abood there, soth to saye,

3650

Til Bialacoil I gan to praye,

Whan that I saw him in no wyse

To me warnen his servyse,

That he me wolde graunte a thing,

Which to remembre is wel sitting;

[196]

3655

This is to sayne, that of his grace

He wolde me yeve leyser and space

To me that was so desirous

To have a kissing precious

Of the goodly freshe rose,

3660

That swetely smelleth in my nose;

For if it you displesed nought,

I wolde gladly, as I have sought,

Have a cos therof freely

Of your yeft; for certainly

3665

I wol non have but by your leve,

So loth me were you for to greve.'

He sayde, 'Frend, so god me spede,

Of Chastite I have suche drede,

Thou shuldest not warned be for me,

3670

But I dar not, for Chastite.

Agayn hir dar I not misdo,

For alwey biddeth she me so

To yeve no lover leve to kisse;

For who therto may winnen, y-wis,

3675

He of the surplus of the pray

May live in hope to get som day.

For who so kissing may attayne,

Of loves peyne hath, soth to sayne,

The beste and most avenaunt,

3680

And ernest of the remenaunt.'

Of his answere I syghed sore;

I durst assaye him tho no more,

I had such drede to greve him ay.

A man shulde not to muche assaye

3685

To chafe his frend out of mesure,

Nor put his lyf in aventure;

For no man at the firste stroke

Ne may nat felle doun an oke;

Nor of the reisins have the wyne,

3690

Til grapes rype and wel afyne

Be sore empressid, I you ensure,

And drawen out of the pressure.

But I, forpeyned wonder stronge,

[Thought] that I abood right longe

3695

Aftir the kis, in peyne and wo,

Sith I to kis desyred so:

Til that, [rewing] on my distresse,

Ther [to me] Venus the goddesse,

Which ay werreyeth Chastite,

3700

Came of hir grace, to socoure me,

Whos might is knowe fer and wyde,

For she is modir of Cupyde,

The God of Love, blinde as stoon,

That helpith lovers many oon.

3705

This lady brought in hir right hond

Of brenning fyr a blasing brond;

Wherof the flawme and hote fyr

Hath many a lady in desyr

Of love brought, and sore het,

3710

And in hir servise hir hertes set.

This lady was of good entayle,

Right wondirful of apparayle;

By hir atyre so bright and shene,

Men might perceyve wel, and seen,

3715

She was not of religioun.

Nor I nil make mencioun

Nor of [hir] robe, nor of tresour,

Of broche, [nor] of hir riche attour;

[197]

Ne of hir girdil aboute hir syde,

3720

For that I nil not long abyde.

But knowith wel, that certeynly

She was arayed richely.

Devoyd of pryde certeyn she was;

To Bialacoil she wente a pas,

3725

And to him shortly, in a clause,

She seide: 'Sir, what is the cause

Ye been of port so daungerous

Unto this lover, and deynous,

To graunte him no-thing but a kis?

3730

To werne it him ye doon amis;

Sith wel ye wote, how that he

Is Loves servaunt, as ye may see,

And hath beaute, wher-through [he] is

Worthy of love to have the blis.

3735

How he is semely, biholde and see,

How he is fair, how he is free,

How he is swote and debonair,

Of age yong, lusty, and fair.

Ther is no lady so hauteyne,

3740

Duchesse, countesse, ne chasteleyne,

That I nolde holde hir ungoodly

For to refuse him outerly.

His breeth is also good and swete,

And eke his lippis rody, and mete

3745

Only to pleyen, and to kisse.

Graunte him a kis, of gentilnesse!

His teeth arn also whyte and clene;

Me thinkith wrong, withouten wene,

If ye now werne him, trustith me,

3750

To graunte that a kis have he;

The lasse [to] helpe him that ye haste,

The more tyme shul ye waste.'

Whan the flawme of the verry brond,

That Venus brought in hir right hond,

3755

Had Bialacoil with hete smete,

Anoon he bad, withouten lette,

Graunte to me the rose kisse.

Than of my peyne I gan to lisse,

And to the rose anoon wente I,

3760

And kissid it ful feithfully.

Thar no man aske if I was blythe,

Whan the savour soft and lythe

Strook to myn herte withoute more,

And me alegged of my sore,

3765

So was I ful of Ioye and blisse.

It is fair sich a flour to kisse,

It was so swote and saverous.

I might not be so anguisshous,

That I mote glad and Ioly be,

3770

Whan that I remembre me.

Yit ever among, sothly to seyn,

I suffre noye and moche peyn.

The see may never be so stil,

That with a litel winde it [nil]

3775

Overwhelme and turne also,

As it were wood, in wawis go.

Aftir the calm the trouble sone

Mot folowe, and chaunge as the mone.

Right so farith Love, that selde in oon

3780

Holdith his anker; for right anoon

Whan they in ese wene best to live,

They been with tempest al fordrive.

[198]

Who serveth Love, can telle of wo;

The stoundemele Ioye mot overgo.

3785

Now he hurteth, and now he cureth,

For selde in oo poynt Love endureth.

Now is it right me to procede,

How Shame gan medle and take hede,

Thurgh whom felle angres I have had;

3790

And how the stronge wal was maad,

And the castell of brede and lengthe,

That God of Love wan with his strengthe.

Al this in romance wil I sette,

And for no-thing ne wil I lette,

3795

So that it lyking to hir be,

That is the flour of beaute;

For she may best my labour quyte,

That I for hir love shal endyte.

Wikkid-Tunge, that the covyne

3800

Of every lover can devyne

Worst, and addith more somdel,

(For Wikkid-Tunge seith never wel),

To me-ward bar he right gret hate,

Espying me erly and late,

3805

Til he hath seen the grete chere

Of Bialacoil and me y-fere.

He mighte not his tunge withstonde

Worse to reporte than he fonde,

He was so ful of cursed rage;

3810

It sat him wel of his linage,

For him an Irish womman bar.

His tunge was fyled sharp, and squar,

Poignaunt and right kerving,

And wonder bitter in speking.

3815

For whan that he me gan espye,

He swoor, afferming sikirly,

Bitwene Bialacoil and me

Was yvel aquayntaunce and privee.

He spak therof so folily,

3820

That he awakid Ielousy;

Which, al afrayed in his rysing,

Whan that he herde [him] Iangling,

He ran anoon, as he were wood,

To Bialacoil ther that he stood;

3825

Which hadde lever in this caas

Have been at Reynes or Amyas;

For foot-hoot, in his felonye

To him thus seide Ielousye:—

Why hast thou been so necligent,

3830

To kepen, whan I was absent,

This verger here left in thy ward?

To me thou haddist no reward,

To truste (to thy confusioun)

Him thus, to whom suspeccioun

3835

I have right greet, for it is nede;

It is wel shewed by the dede.

Greet faute in thee now have I founde;

By god, anoon thou shalt be bounde,

And faste loken in a tour,

3840

Withoute refuyt or socour.

For Shame to long hath be thee fro;

Over sone she was agoo.

Whan thou hast lost bothe drede and fere,

It semed wel she was not here.

3845

She was [not] bisy, in no wyse,

To kepe thee and [to] chastyse,

And for to helpen Chastitee

To kepe the roser, as thinkith me.

For than this boy-knave so boldely

3850

Ne sholde not have be hardy,

[199]

[Ne] in this verger had such game,

Which now me turneth to gret shame.'

Bialacoil nist what to sey;

Ful fayn he wolde have fled awey,

3855

For fere han hid, nere that he

Al sodeynly took him with me.

And whan I saugh he hadde so,

This Ielousye, take us two,

I was astoned, and knew no rede,

3860

But fledde awey for verrey drede.

Than Shame cam forth ful simply;

She wende have trespaced ful gretly;

Humble of hir port, and made it simple,

Wering a vayle in stede of wimple,

3865

As nonnis doon in hir abbey.

Bicause hir herte was in affray,

She gan to speke, within a throwe,

To Ielousye, right wonder lowe.

First of his grace she bisought,

3870

And seide:—'Sire, ne leveth nought

Wikkid-Tunge, that fals espye,

Which is so glad to feyne and lye.

He hath you maad, thurgh flatering,

On Bialacoil a fals lesing.

3875

His falsnesse is not now anew,

It is to long that he him knew.

This is not the firste day;

For Wikkid-Tunge hath custom ay

Yongé folkis to bewreye,

3880

And false lesinges on hem leye.

'Yit nevertheles I see among,

That the loigne it is so longe

Of Bialacoil, hertis to lure,

In Loves servise for to endure,

3885

Drawing suche folk him to,

That he had no-thing with to do;

But in sothnesse I trowe nought,

That Bialacoil hadde ever in thought

To do trespace or vilanye;

3890

But, for his modir Curtesye

Hath taught him ever [for] to be

Good of aqueyntaunce and privee;

For he loveth non hevinesse,

But mirthe and pley, and al gladnesse;

3895

He hateth alle [trecherous],

Soleyn folk and envious;

For [wel] ye witen how that he

Wol ever glad and Ioyful be

Honestly with folk to pley.

3900

I have be negligent, in good fey,

To chastise him; therfore now I

Of herte crye you here mercy,

That I have been so recheles

To tamen him, withouten lees.

3905

Of my foly I me repente;

Now wol I hool sette myn entente

To kepe, bothe [loude] and stille,

Bialacoil to do your wille.'

'Shame, Shame,' seyde Ielousy,

3910

'To be bitrasshed gret drede have I.

Lecherye hath clombe so hye,

That almost blered is myn ye;

No wonder is, if that drede have I.

Over-al regnith Lechery,

3915

Whos might [yit] growith night and day.

Bothe in cloistre and in abbey

Chastite is werreyed over-al.

Therfore I wol with siker wal

[200]

Close bothe roses and roser.

3920

I have to longe in this maner

Left hem unclosid wilfully;

Wherfore I am right inwardly

Sorowful and repente me.

But now they shal no lenger be

3925

Unclosid; and yit I drede sore,

I shal repente ferthermore,

For the game goth al amis.

Counsel I [mot take] newe, y-wis.

I have to longe tristed thee,

3930

But now it shal no lenger be;

For he may best, in every cost,

Disceyve, that men tristen most.

I see wel that I am nygh shent,

But-if I sette my ful entent

3935

Remedye to purveye.

Therfore close I shal the weye

Fro hem that wol the rose espye,

And come to wayte me vilanye,

For, in good feith and in trouthe,

3940

I wol not lette, for no slouthe,

To live the more in sikirnesse,

[To] make anoon a forteresse,

[To enclose] the roses of good savour.

In middis shal I make a tour

3945

To putte Bialacoil in prisoun,

For ever I drede me of tresoun.

I trowe I shal him kepe so,

That he shal have no might to go

Aboute to make companye

3950

To hem that thenke of vilanye;

Ne to no such as hath ben here

Aforn, and founde in him good chere,

Which han assailed him to shende,

And with hir trowandyse to blende.

3955

A fool is eyth [for] to bigyle;

But may I lyve a litel while,

He shal forthenke his fair semblaunt.'

And with that word cam Drede avaunt,

Which was abasshed, and in gret fere,

3960

Whan he wiste Ielousye was there.

He was for drede in such affray,

That not a word durste he say,

But quaking stood ful stille aloon,

Til Ielousye his wey was goon,

3965

Save Shame, that him not forsook;

Bothe Drede and she ful sore quook;

[Til] that at laste Drede abreyde,

And to his cosin Shame seyde:

Shame,' he seide, 'in sothfastnesse,

3970

To me it is gret hevinesse,

That the noyse so fer is go,

And the sclaundre of us two.

But sith that it is [so] bifalle,

We may it not ageyn [do] calle,

3975

Whan onis sprongen is a fame.

For many a yeer withouten blame

We han been, and many a day;

For many an April and many a May

We han [y]-passed, not [a]shamed,

3980

Til Ielousye hath us blamed

Of mistrust and suspecioun

Causeles, withouten enchesoun.

Go we to Daunger hastily,

And late us shewe him openly,

[201]

3985

That he hath not aright [y]-wrought,

Whan that he sette nought his thought

To kepe better the purpryse;

In his doing he is not wyse.

He hath to us [y]-do gret wrong,

3990

That hath suffred now so long

Bialacoil to have his wille,

Alle his lustes to fulfille.

He must amende it utterly,

Or ellis shal he vilaynsly

3995

Exyled be out of this londe;

For he the werre may not withstonde

Of Ielousye, nor the greef,

Sith Bialacoil is at mischeef.'

To Daunger, Shame and Drede anoon

4000

The righte wey ben [bothe a]-goon.

The cherl they founden hem aforn

Ligging undir an hawethorn.

Undir his heed no pilowe was,

But in the stede a trusse of gras.

4005

He slombred, and a nappe he took,

Til Shame pitously him shook,

And greet manace on him gan make.

Why slepist thou whan thou shulde wake?'

Quod Shame; 'thou dost us vilanye!

4010

Who tristith thee, he doth folye,

To kepe roses or botouns,

Whan they ben faire in hir sesouns.

Thou art woxe to familiere

Where thou shulde be straunge of chere,

4015

Stout of thy port, redy to greve.

Thou dost gret foly for to leve

Bialacoil here-in, to calle

The yonder man to shenden us alle.

Though that thou slepe, we may here

4020

Of Ielousie gret noyse here.

Art thou now late? ryse up [in hy],

And stoppe sone and deliverly

Alle the gappis of the hay;

Do no favour, I thee pray.

4025

It fallith no-thing to thy name

Make fair semblaunt, where thou maist blame.

'If Bialacoil be swete and free,

Dogged and fel thou shuldist be;

Froward and outrageous, y-wis;

4030

A cherl chaungeth that curteis is.

This have I herd ofte in seying,

That man [ne] may, for no daunting,

Make a sperhauke of a bosarde.

Alle men wole holde thee for musarde,

4035

That debonair have founden thee,

It sit thee nought curteis to be;

To do men plesaunce or servyse,

In thee it is recreaundyse.

Let thy werkis, fer and nere,

4040

Be lyke thy name, which is Daungere.'

Than, al abawid in shewing,

Anoon spak Dreed, right thus seying,

And seide, 'Daunger, I drede me

That thou ne wolt [not] bisy be

4045

To kepe that thou hast to kepe;

Whan thou shuldist wake, thou art aslepe.

[202]

Thou shalt be greved certeynly,

If thee aspye Ielousy,

Or if he finde thee in blame.

4050

He hath to-day assailed Shame,

And chased awey, with gret manace,

Bialacoil out of this place,

And swereth shortly that he shal

Enclose him in a sturdy wal;

4055

And al is for thy wikkednesse,

For that thee faileth straungenesse.

Thyn herte, I trowe, be failed al;

Thou shalt repente in special,

If Ielousye the sothe knewe;

4060

Thou shalt forthenke, and sore rewe.'

With that the cherl his clubbe gan shake,

Frouning his eyen gan to make,

And hidous chere; as man in rage,

For ire he brente in his visage.

4065

Whan that he herde him blamed so,

He seide, 'Out of my wit I go;

To be discomfit I have gret wrong.

Certis, I have now lived to long,

Sith I may not this closer kepe;

4070

Al quik I wolde be dolven depe,

If any man shal more repeire

Into this garden, for foule or faire.

Myn herte for ire goth a-fere,

That I lete any entre here.

4075

I have do foly, now I see,

But now it shal amended bee.

Who settith foot here any more,

Truly, he shal repente it sore;

For no man mo into this place

4080

Of me to entre shal have grace.

Lever I hadde, with swerdis tweyne,

Thurgh-out myn herte, in every veyne

Perced to be, with many a wounde,

Than slouthe shulde in me be founde.

4085

From hennesforth, by night or day,

I shal defende it, if I may,

Withouten any excepcioun

Of ech maner condicioun;

And if I any man it graunte,

4090

Holdeth me for recreaunte.'

Than Daunger on his feet gan stonde,

And hente a burdoun in his honde.

Wroth in his ire, ne lefte he nought,

But thurgh the verger he hath sought.

4095

If he might finde hole or trace,

Wher-thurgh that men mot forth-by pace,

Or any gappe, he dide it close,

That no man mighte touche a rose

Of the roser al aboute;

4100

He shitteth every man withoute.

Thus day by day Daunger is wers,

More wondirful and more divers,

And feller eek than ever he was;

For him ful oft I singe 'allas!'

4105

For I ne may nought, thurgh his ire,

Recover that I most desire.

Myn herte, allas, wol brest a-two,

For Bialacoil I wratthed so.

For certeynly, in every membre

4110

I quake, whan I me remembre

Of the botoun, which [that] I wolde

Fulle ofte a day seen and biholde.

[203]

And whan I thenke upon the kisse,

And how muche Ioye and blisse

4115

I hadde thurgh the savour swete,

For wante of it I grone and grete.

Me thenkith I fele yit in my nose

The swete savour of the rose.

And now I woot that I mot go

4120

So fer the fresshe floures fro,

To me ful welcome were the deeth;

Absens therof, allas, me sleeth!

For whylom with this rose, allas,

I touched nose, mouth, and face;

4125

But now the deeth I must abyde.

But Love consente, another tyde,

That onis I touche may and kisse,

I trowe my peyne shal never lisse.

Theron is al my coveityse,

4130

Which brent myn herte in many wyse.

Now shal repaire agayn sighinge,

Long wacche on nightis, and no slepinge;

Thought in wisshing, torment, and wo,

With many a turning to and fro,

4135

That half my peyne I can not telle.

For I am fallen into helle

From paradys and welthe, the more

My turment greveth; more and more

Anoyeth now the bittirnesse,

4140

That I toforn have felt swetnesse.

And Wikkid-Tunge, thurgh his falshede,

Causeth al my wo and drede.

On me he leyeth a pitous charge,

Bicause his tunge was to large.

4145

Now it is tyme, shortly that I

Telle you som-thing of Ielousy,

That was in gret suspecioun.

Aboute him lefte he no masoun,

That stoon coude leye, ne querrour;

4150

He hired hem to make a tour.

And first, the roses for to kepe,

Aboute hem made he a diche depe,

Right wondir large, and also brood;

Upon the whiche also stood

4155

Of squared stoon a sturdy wal,

Which on a cragge was founded al,

And right gret thikkenesse eek it bar.

Abouten, it was founded squar,

An hundred fadome on every syde,

4160

It was al liche longe and wyde.

Lest any tyme it were assayled,

Ful wel aboute it was batayled;

And rounde enviroun eek were set

Ful many a riche and fair touret.

4165

At every corner of this wal

Was set a tour ful principal;

And everich hadde, withoute fable,

A porte-colys defensable

To kepe of enemies, and to greve,

4170

That there hir force wolde preve.

And eek amidde this purpryse

Was maad a tour of gret maistryse;

A fairer saugh no man with sight,

Large and wyde, and of gret might.

4175

They [ne] dredde noon assaut

Of ginne, gunne, nor skaffaut.

[For] the temprure of the mortere

Was maad of licour wonder dere;

Of quikke lyme persant and egre,

4180

The which was tempred with vinegre.

[204]

The stoon was hard [as] ademant,

Wherof they made the foundement.

The tour was rounde, maad in compas;

In al this world no richer was,

4185

Ne better ordeigned therwithal.

Aboute the tour was maad a wal,

So that, bitwixt that and the tour,

Rosers were set of swete savour,

With many roses that they bere.

4190

And eek within the castel were

Springoldes, gunnes, bows, archers;

And eek above, atte corners,

Men seyn over the walle stonde

Grete engynes, [whiche] were nigh honde;

4195

And in the kernels, here and there,

Of arblasters gret plentee were.

Noon armure might hir stroke withstonde,

It were foly to prece to honde.

Without the diche were listes made,

4200

With walles batayled large and brade,

For men and hors shulde not atteyne

To neigh the diche over the pleyne.

Thus Ielousye hath enviroun

Set aboute his garnisoun

4205

With walles rounde, and diche depe,

Only the roser for to kepe.

And Daunger [eek], erly and late

The keyes kepte of the utter gate,

The which openeth toward the eest.

4210

And he hadde with him atte leest

Thritty servauntes, echon by name.

That other gate kepte Shame,

Which openede, as it was couth,

Toward the parte of the south.

4215

Sergeauntes assigned were hir to

Ful many, hir wille for to do.

Than Drede hadde in hir baillye

The keping of the conestablerye,

Toward the north, I undirstonde,

4220

That opened upon the left honde,

The which for no-thing may be sure,

But-if she do [hir] bisy cure

Erly on morowe and also late,

Strongly to shette and barre the gate.

4225

Of every thing that she may see

Drede is aferd, wher-so she be;

For with a puff of litel winde

Drede is astonied in hir minde.

Therfore, for stelinge of the rose,

4230

I rede hir nought the yate unclose.

A foulis flight wol make hir flee,

And eek a shadowe, if she it see.

Thanne Wikked-Tunge, ful of envye,

With soudiours of Normandye,

4235

As he that causeth al the bate,

Was keper of the fourthe gate,

And also to the tother three

He went ful ofte, for to see.

Whan his lot was to wake a-night,

4240

His instrumentis wolde he dight,

For to blowe and make soun,

Ofter than he hath enchesoun;

And walken oft upon the wal,

Corners and wikettis over-al

[205]

4245

Ful narwe serchen and espye;

Though he nought fond, yit wolde he lye.

Discordaunt ever fro armonye,

And distoned from melodye,

Controve he wolde, and foule fayle,

4250

With hornpypes of Cornewayle.

In floytes made he discordaunce,

And in his musik, with mischaunce,

He wolde seyn, with notes newe,

That he [ne] fond no womman trewe,

4255

Ne that he saugh never, in his lyf,

Unto hir husbonde a trewe wyf;

Ne noon so ful of honestee,

That she nil laughe and mery be

Whan that she hereth, or may espye,

4260

A man speken of lecherye.

Everich of hem hath somme vyce;

Oon is dishonest, another is nyce;

If oon be ful of vilanye,

Another hath a likerous ye;

4265

If oon be ful of wantonesse,

Another is a chideresse.

Thus Wikked-Tunge (god yeve him shame!)

Can putte hem everichone in blame

Withoute desert and causeles;

4270

He lyeth, though they been giltles.

I have pite to seen the sorwe,

That waketh bothe eve and morwe,

To innocents doth such grevaunce;

I pray god yeve him evel chaunce,

4275

That he ever so bisy is

Of any womman to seyn amis!

Eek Ielousye god confounde,

That hath [y]-maad a tour so rounde,

And made aboute a garisoun

4280

To sette Bialacoil in prisoun;

The which is shet there in the tour,

Ful longe to holde there soiour,

There for to liven in penaunce.

And for to do him more grevaunce,

4285

[Ther] hath ordeyned Ielousye

An olde vekke, for to espye

The maner of his governaunce;

The whiche devel, in hir enfaunce,

Had lerned [muche] of Loves art,

4290

And of his pleyes took hir part;

She was [expert] in his servyse.

She knew ech wrenche and every gyse

Of love, and every [loveres] wyle,

It was [the] harder hir to gyle.

4295

Of Bialacoil she took ay hede,

That ever he liveth in wo and drede.

He kepte him coy and eek privee,

Lest in him she hadde see

Any foly countenaunce,

4300

For she knew al the olde daunce.

And aftir this, whan Ielousye

Had Bialacoil in his baillye,

And shette him up that was so free,

For seure of him he wolde be,

4305

He trusteth sore in his castel;

The stronge werk him lyketh wel.

He dradde nat that no glotouns

Shulde stele his roses or botouns.

The roses weren assured alle,

4310

Defenced with the stronge walle.

Now Ielousye ful wel may be

Of drede devoid, in libertee,

[206]

Whether that he slepe or wake;

For of his roses may noon be take.

4315

But I, allas, now morne shal;

Bicause I was without the wal,

Ful moche dole and mone I made.

Who hadde wist what wo I hadde,

I trowe he wolde have had pitee.

4320

Love to deere had sold to me

The good that of his love hadde I.

I [wende a bought] it al queyntly;

But now, thurgh doubling of my peyn,

I see he wolde it selle ageyn,

4325

And me a newe bargeyn lere,

The which al-out the more is dere,

For the solace that I have lorn,

Than I hadde it never aforn.

Certayn I am ful lyk, indeed,

4330

To him that cast in erthe his seed;

And hath Ioie of the newe spring,

Whan it greneth in the ginning,

And is also fair and fresh of flour,

Lusty to seen, swote of odour;

4335

But er he it in sheves shere,

May falle a weder that shal it dere,

And maken it to fade and falle,

The stalk, the greyn, and floures alle;

That to the tilier is fordone

4340

The hope that he hadde to sone.

I drede, certeyn, that so fare I;

For hope and travaile sikerly

Ben me biraft al with a storm;

The floure nil seden of my corn.

4345

For Love hath so avaunced me,

Whan I bigan my privitee

To Bialacoil al for to telle,

Whom I ne fond froward ne felle,

But took a-gree al hool my play.

4350

But Love is of so hard assay,

That al at onis he reved me,

Whan I wend best aboven have be.

It is of Love, as of Fortune,

That chaungeth ofte, and nil contune;

4355

Which whylom wol on folke smyle,

And gloumbe on hem another whyle;

Now freend, now foo, [thou] shalt hir fele,

For [in] a twinkling tourneth hir wheel.

She can wrythe hir heed awey,

4360

This is the concours of hir pley;

She can areyse that doth morne,

And whirle adown, and overturne

Who sittith hieghst, [al] as hir list;

A fool is he that wol hir trist.

4365

For it [am] I that am com doun

Thurgh change and revolucioun!

Sith Bialacoil mot fro me twinne,

Shet in the prisoun yond withinne,

His absence at myn herte I fele;

4370

For al my Ioye and al myn hele

Was in him and in the rose,

That but yon [wal], which him doth close,

Open, that I may him see,

Love nil not that I cured be

4375

Of the peynes that I endure,

Nor of my cruel aventure.

A, Bialacoil, myn owne dere!

Though thou be now a prisonere,

[207]

Kepe atte leste thyn herte to me,

4380

And suffre not that it daunted be;

Ne lat not Ielousye, in his rage,

Putten thyn herte in no servage.

Although he chastice thee withoute,

And make thy body unto him loute,

4385

Have herte as hard as dyamaunt,

Stedefast, and nought pliaunt;

In prisoun though thy body be,

At large kepe thyn herte free.

A trewe herte wol not plye

4390

For no manace that it may drye.

If Ielousye doth thee payne,

Quyte him his whyle thus agayne,

To venge thee, atte leest in thought,

If other way thou mayest nought;

4395

And in this wyse sotilly

Worche, and winne the maistry.

But yit I am in gret affray

Lest thou do not as I say;

I drede thou canst me greet maugree,

4400

That thou emprisoned art for me;

But that [is] not for my trespas,

For thurgh me never discovered was

Yit thing that oughte be secree.

Wel more anoy [ther] is in me,

4405

Than is in thee, of this mischaunce;

For I endure more hard penaunce

Than any [man] can seyn or thinke,

That for the sorwe almost I sinke.

Whan I remembre me of my wo,

4410

Ful nygh out of my wit I go.

Inward myn herte I fele blede,

For comfortles the deeth I drede.

Ow I not wel to have distresse,

Whan false, thurgh hir wikkednesse,

4415

And traitours, that arn envyous,

To noyen me be so coragious?

A, Bialacoil! ful wel I see,

That they hem shape to disceyve thee,

To make thee buxom to hir lawe,

4420

And with hir corde thee to drawe

Wher-so hem lust, right at hir wil;

I drede they have thee brought thertil.

Withoute comfort, thought me sleeth;

This game wol bringe me to my deeth.

4425

For if your gode wille I lese,

I mote be deed; I may not chese.

And if that thou foryete me,

Myn herte shal never in lyking be;

Nor elles-where finde solace,

4430

If I be put out of your grace,

As it shal never been, I hope;

Than shulde I fallen in wanhope.

[Here, at l. 4070 of the French text, ends the work of G. de Lorris; and begins the work of Jean de Meun.]

Allas, in wanhope?—nay, pardee!

For I wol never dispeired be.

4435

If Hope me faile, than am I

Ungracious and unworthy;

In Hope I wol comforted be,

For Love, whan he bitaught hir me,

[208]

Seide, that Hope, wher-so I go,

4440

Shulde ay be relees to my wo.

But what and she my balis bete,

And be to me curteis and swete?

She is in no-thing ful certeyn.

Lovers she put in ful gret peyn,

4445

And makith hem with wo to dele.

Hir fair biheest disceyveth fele,

For she wol bihote, sikirly,

And failen aftir outrely.

A! that is a ful noyous thing!

4450

For many a lover, in loving,

Hangeth upon hir, and trusteth fast,

Whiche lese hir travel at the last.

Of thing to comen she woot right nought;

Therfore, if it be wysly sought,

4455

Hir counseille, foly is to take.

For many tymes, whan she wol make

A ful good silogisme, I drede

That aftirward ther shal in dede

Folwe an evel conclusioun;

4460

This put me in confusioun.

For many tymes I have it seen,

That many have bigyled been,

For trust that they have set in Hope,

Which fel hem aftirward a-slope.

4465

But natheles yit, gladly she wolde,

That he, that wol him with hir holde,

Hadde alle tymes [his] purpos clere,

Withoute deceyte, or any were.

That she desireth sikirly;

4470

Whan I hir blamed, I did foly.

But what avayleth hir good wille,

Whan she ne may staunche my stounde ille?

That helpith litel, that she may do,

Outake biheest unto my wo.

4475

And heeste certeyn, in no wyse,

Withoute yift, is not to pryse.

Whan heest and deed a-sundir varie,

They doon [me have] a gret contrarie.

Thus am I possed up and doun

4480

With dool, thought, and confusioun;

Of my disese ther is no noumbre.

Daunger and Shame me encumbre,

Drede also, and Ielousye,

And Wikked-Tunge, ful of envye,

4485

Of whiche the sharpe and cruel ire

Ful oft me put in gret martire.

They han my Ioye fully let,

Sith Bialacoil they have bishet

Fro me in prisoun wikkidly,

4490

Whom I love so entierly,

That it wol my bane be,

But I the soner may him see.

And yit moreover, wurst of alle,

Ther is set to kepe, foule hir bifalle!

4495

A rimpled vekke, fer ronne in age,

Frowning and yelowe in hir visage,

Which in awayte lyth day and night,

That noon of hem may have a sight.

Now moot my sorwe enforced be;

4500

Ful soth it is, that Love yaf me

[209]

Three wonder yiftes of his grace,

Which I have lorn now in this place,

Sith they ne may, withoute drede

Helpen but litel, who taketh hede.

4505

For here availeth no Swete-Thought,

And Swete-Speche helpith right nought.

The thridde was called Swete-Loking,

That now is lorn, without lesing.

[The] yiftes were fair, but not forthy

4510

They helpe me but simply,

But Bialacoil [may] loosed be,

To gon at large and to be free.

For him my lyf lyth al in dout,

But-if he come the rather out.

4515

Allas! I trowe it wol not been!

For how shuld I evermore him seen?

He may not out, and that is wrong,

Bicause the tour is so strong.

How shulde he out? by whos prowesse,

4520

Out of so strong a forteresse?

By me, certeyn, it nil be do;

God woot, I have no wit therto!

But wel I woot I was in rage,

Whan I to Love dide homage.

4525

Who was in cause, in sothfastnesse,

But hir-silf, dame Idelnesse,

Which me conveyed, thurgh fair prayere,

To entre into that fair vergere?

She was to blame me to leve,

4530

The which now doth me sore greve.

A foolis word is nought to trowe,

Ne worth an appel for to lowe;

Men shulde him snibbe bittirly,

At pryme temps of his foly.

4535

I was a fool, and she me leved,

Thurgh whom I am right nought releved.

She accomplisshed al my wil,

That now me greveth wondir il.

Resoun me seide what shulde falle.

4540

A fool my-silf I may wel calle,

That love asyde I had not leyde,

And trowed that dame Resoun seyde.

Resoun had bothe skile and right.

Whan she me blamed, with al hir might,

4545

To medle of love, that hath me shent;

But certeyn now I wol repent.

'And shulde I repent? Nay, parde!

A fals traitour than shulde I be.

The develles engins wolde me take,

4550

If I my [lorde] wolde forsake,

Or Bialacoil falsly bitraye.

Shulde I at mischeef hate him? nay,

Sith he now, for his curtesye,

Is in prisoun of Ielousye.

4555

Curtesye certeyn dide he me,

So muche, it may not yolden be,

Whan he the hay passen me lete,

To kisse the rose, faire and swete;

Shulde I therfore cunne him maugree?

4560

Nay, certeynly, it shal not be;

For Love shal never, [if god wil],

Here of me, thurgh word or wil,

[210]

Offence or complaynt, more or lesse,

Neither of Hope nor Idilnesse;

4565

For certis, it were wrong that I

Hated hem for hir curtesye.

Ther is not ellis, but suffre and thinke,

And waken whan I shulde winke;

Abyde in hope, til Love, thurgh chaunce,

4570

Sende me socour or allegeaunce,

Expectant ay til I may mete

To geten mercy of that swete.

'Whylom I thinke how Love to me

Seyde he wolde taken atte gree

4575

My servise, if unpacience

Caused me to doon offence.

He seyde, "In thank I shal it take,

And high maister eek thee make,

If wikkednesse ne reve it thee;

4580

But sone, I trowe, that shal not be."

These were his wordis by and by;

It semed he loved me trewly.

Now is ther not but serve him wele,

If that I thinke his thank to fele.

4585

My good, myn harm, lyth hool in me;

In Love may no defaute be;

For trewe Love ne failid never man.

Sothly, the faute mot nedis than

(As God forbede!) be founde in me,

4590

And how it cometh, I can not see.

Now lat it goon as it may go;

Whether Love wol socoure me or slo,

He may do hool on me his wil.

I am so sore bounde him til,

4595

From his servyse I may not fleen;

For lyf and deth, withouten wene,

Is in his hand; I may not chese;

He may me do bothe winne and lese.

And sith so sore he doth me greve,

4600

Yit, if my lust he wolde acheve

To Bialacoil goodly to be,

I yeve no force what felle on me.

For though I dye, as I mot nede,

I praye Love, of his goodlihede,

4605

To Bialacoil do gentilnesse,

For whom I live in such distresse,

That I mote deyen for penaunce.

But first, withoute repentaunce,

I wol me confesse in good entent,

4610

And make in haste my testament,

As lovers doon that felen smerte:—

To Bialacoil leve I myn herte

Al hool, withoute departing,

Or doublenesse of repenting.'

Coment Raisoun vient a L'amant.

4615

Thus as I made my passage

In compleynt, and in cruel rage,

And I not wher to finde a leche

That couthe unto myn helping eche,

Sodeynly agayn comen doun

4620

Out of hir tour I saugh Resoun,

Discrete and wys, and ful plesaunt,

And of hir porte ful avenaunt.

The righte wey she took to me,

Which stood in greet perplexite,

4625

That was posshed in every side,

That I nist where I might abyde,

Til she, demurely sad of chere,

Seide to me as she com nere:—

[211]

'Myn owne freend, art thou yit greved?

4630

How is this quarel yit acheved

Of Loves syde? Anoon me telle;

Hast thou not yit of love thy fille?

Art thou not wery of thy servyse

That thee hath [pyned] in sich wyse?

4635

What Ioye hast thou in thy loving?

Is it swete or bitter thing?

Canst thou yit chese, lat me see,

What best thy socour mighte be?

'Thou servest a ful noble lord,

4640

That maketh thee thral for thy reward,

Which ay renewith thy turment,

With foly so he hath thee blent.

Thou felle in mischeef thilke day,

Whan thou didest, the sothe to say,

4645

Obeysaunce and eek homage;

Thou wroughtest no-thing as the sage.

Whan thou bicam his liege man,

Thou didist a gret foly than;

Thou wistest not what fel therto,

4650

With what lord thou haddist to do.

If thou haddist him wel knowe,

Thou haddist nought be brought so lowe;

For if thou wistest what it were,

Thou noldist serve him half a yeer,

4655

Not a weke, nor half a day,

Ne yit an hour withoute delay,

Ne never [han] loved paramours,

His lordship is so ful of shoures.

Knowest him ought?'

L'Amaunt. 'Ye, dame, parde!'

Raisoun. 'Nay, nay.'

L'Amaunt. 'Yes, I.'

4660

Raisoun. 'Wherof, lat see?'

L'Amaunt. 'Of that he seyde I shulde be

Glad to have sich lord as he,

And maister of sich seignory.'

Raisoun. 'Knowist him no more?'

L'Amaunt. 'Nay, certis, I,

4665

Save that he yaf me rewles there,

And wente his wey, I niste where,

And I abood bounde in balaunce.'

Raisoun. 'Lo, there a noble conisaunce!

But I wil that thou knowe him now

4670

Ginning and ende, sith that thou

Art so anguisshous and mate,

Disfigured out of astate;

Ther may no wrecche have more of wo,

Ne caitif noon enduren so.

4675

It were to every man sitting

Of his lord have knowleching.

For if thou knewe him, out of dout,

Lightly thou shulde escapen out

Of the prisoun that marreth thee.'

4680

L'Amaunt. 'Ye, dame! sith my lord is he,

And I his man, maad with myn honde,

I wolde right fayn undirstonde

To knowen of what kinde he be,

If any wolde enferme me.'

4685

Raisoun. 'I wolde,' seid Resoun, 'thee lere,

Sith thou to lerne hast sich desire,

[212]

And shewe thee, withouten fable,

A thing that is not demonstrable.

Thou shalt [here lerne] without science,

4690

And knowe, withoute experience,

The thing that may not knowen be,

Ne wist ne shewid in no degree.

Thou mayst the sothe of it not witen,

Though in thee it were writen.

4695

Thou shalt not knowe therof more

Whyle thou art reuled by his lore;

But unto him that love wol flee,

The knotte may unclosed be,

Which hath to thee, as it is founde,

4700

So long be knet and not unbounde.

Now sette wel thyn entencioun,

To here of love discripcioun.

'Love, it is an hateful pees,

A free acquitaunce, without relees,

4705

[A trouthe], fret full of falshede,

A sikernesse, al set in drede;

In herte is a dispeiring hope,

And fulle of hope, it is wanhope;

Wyse woodnesse, and wood resoun,

4710

A swete peril, in to droune,

An hevy birthen, light to bere,

A wikked wawe awey to were.

It is Caribdis perilous,

Disagreable and gracious.

4715

It is discordaunce that can accorde,

And accordaunce to discorde.

It is cunning withoute science,

Wisdom withoute sapience,

Wit withoute discrecioun,

4720

Havoir, withoute possessioun.

It is sike hele and hool siknesse,

A thrust drowned [in] dronkenesse,

An helthe ful of maladye,

And charitee ful of envye,

4725

An [hunger] ful of habundaunce,

And a gredy suffisaunce;

Delyt right ful of hevinesse,

And drerihed ful of gladnesse;

Bitter swetnesse and swete errour,

4730

Right evel savoured good savour;

Sinne that pardoun hath withinne,

And pardoun spotted without [with] sinne;

A peyne also it is, Ioyous,

And felonye right pitous;

4735

Also pley that selde is stable,

And stedefast [stat], right mevable;

A strengthe, weyked to stonde upright,

And feblenesse, ful of might;

Wit unavysed, sage folye,

4740

And Ioye ful of turmentrye;

A laughter it is, weping ay,

Rest, that traveyleth night and day;

Also a swete helle it is,

And a sorowful Paradys;

4745

A plesaunt gayl and esy prisoun,

And, ful of froste, somer sesoun;

[213]

Pryme temps, ful of frostes whyte,

And May, devoide of al delyte,

With seer braunches, blossoms ungrene;

4750

And newe fruyt, fillid with winter tene.

It is a slowe, may not forbere

Ragges, ribaned with gold, to were;

For al-so wel wol love be set

Under ragges as riche rochet;

4755

And eek as wel be amourettes

In mourning blak, as bright burnettes.

For noon is of so mochel prys,

Ne no man founden [is] so wys,

Ne noon so high is of parage,

4760

Ne no man founde of wit so sage,

No man so hardy ne so wight,

Ne no man of so mochel might,

Noon so fulfilled of bounte,

[But] he with love may daunted be.

4765

Al the world holdith this way;

Love makith alle to goon miswey,

But it be they of yvel lyf,

Whom Genius cursith, man and wyf,

That wrongly werke ageyn nature.

4770

Noon suche I love, ne have no cure

Of suche as Loves servaunts been,

And wol not by my counsel fleen.

For I ne preyse that loving,

Wher-thurgh man, at the laste ending,

4775

Shal calle hem wrecchis fulle of wo,

Love greveth hem and shendith so.

But if thou wolt wel Love eschewe,

For to escape out of his mewe,

And make al hool thy sorwe to slake,

4780

No bettir counsel mayst thou take,

Than thinke to fleen wel, y-wis;

May nought helpe elles; for wite thou this:—

If thou flee it, it shal flee thee;

Folowe it, and folowen shal it thee.'

4785

L'Amaunt. Whan I hadde herd al Resoun seyn,

Which hadde spilt hir speche in veyn:

Dame,' seyde I, 'I dar wel sey

Of this avaunt me wel I may

That from your scole so deviaunt

4790

I am, that never the more avaunt

Right nought am I, thurgh your doctryne;

I dulle under your disciplyne;

I wot no more than [I] wist [er],

To me so contrarie and so fer

4795

Is every thing that ye me lere;

And yit I can it al parcuere.

Myn herte foryetith therof right nought,

It is so writen in my thought;

And depe graven it is so tendir

4800

That al by herte I can it rendre,

And rede it over comunely;

But to my-silf lewedist am I.

'But sith ye love discreven so,

And lakke and preise it, bothe two,

4805

Defyneth it into this letter,

That I may thenke on it the better;

For I herde never [diffyne it ere],

And wilfully I wolde it lere.'

Raisoun. 'If love be serched wel and sought,

4810

It is a sykenesse of the thought

[214]

Annexed and knet bitwixe tweyne,

[Which] male and female, with oo cheyne,

So frely byndith, that they nil twinne,

Whether so therof they lese or winne.

4815

The roote springith, thurgh hoot brenning,

Into disordinat desiring

For to kissen and enbrace,

And at her lust them to solace.

Of other thing love recchith nought,

4820

But setteth hir herte and al hir thought

More for delectacioun

Than any procreacioun

Of other fruyt by engendring;

Which love to god is not plesing;

4825

For of hir body fruyt to get

They yeve no force, they are so set

Upon delyt, to pley in-fere.

And somme have also this manere,

To feynen hem for love seke;

4830

Sich love I preise not at a leke.

For paramours they do but feyne;

To love truly they disdeyne.

They falsen ladies traitoursly,

And sweren hem othes utterly,

4835

With many a lesing, and many a fable,

And al they finden deceyvable.

And, whan they her lust han geten,

The hoote ernes they al foryeten.

Wimmen, the harm they byen ful sore;

4840

But men this thenken evermore,

That lasse harm is, so mote I thee,

Disceyve them, than disceyved be;

And namely, wher they ne may

Finde non other mene wey.

4845

For I wot wel, in sothfastnesse,

That [who] doth now his bisynesse

With any womman for to dele,

For any lust that he may fele,

But-if it be for engendrure,

4850

He doth trespasse, I you ensure.

For he shulde setten al his wil

To geten a likly thing him til,

And to sustene[n], if he might,

And kepe forth, by kindes right,

4855

His owne lyknesse and semblable,

For bicause al is corumpable,

And faile shulde successioun,

Ne were ther generacioun

Our sectis strene for to save.

4860

Whan fader or moder arn in grave,

Hir children shulde, whan they ben deede,

Ful diligent ben, in hir steede,

To use that werke on such a wyse,

That oon may thurgh another ryse.

4865

Therfore set Kinde therin delyt,

For men therin shulde hem delyte,

And of that dede be not erke,

But ofte sythes haunt that werke.

For noon wolde drawe therof a draught

4870

Ne were delyt, which hath him caught.

This hadde sotil dame Nature;

For noon goth right, I thee ensure,

Ne hath entent hool ne parfyt;

For hir desir is for delyt,

[215]

4875

The which fortened crece and eke

The pley of love for-ofte seke,

And thralle hem-silf, they be so nyce,

Unto the prince of every vyce.

For of ech sinne it is the rote,

4880

Unlefulle lust, though it be sote,

And of al yvel the racyne,

As Tullius can determyne,

Which in his tyme was ful sage,

In a boke he made of Age,

4885

Wher that more he preyseth Elde,

Though he be croked and unwelde,

And more of commendacioun,

Than Youthe in his discripcioun.

For Youthe set bothe man and wyf

4890

In al perel of soule and lyf;

And perel is, but men have grace,

The [tyme] of youthe for to pace,

Withoute any deth or distresse,

It is so ful of wildenesse;

4895

So ofte it doth shame or damage

To him or to his linage.

It ledith man now up, now doun,

In mochel dissolucioun,

And makith him love yvel company,

4900

And lede his lyf disrewlily,

And halt him payed with noon estate.

Within him-silf is such debate,

He chaungith purpos and entent,

And yalt [him] into som covent,

4905

To liven aftir her empryse,

And lesith fredom and fraunchyse,

That Nature in him hadde set,

The which ageyn he may not get,

If he there make his mansioun

4910

For to abyde professioun.

Though for a tyme his herte absente,

It may not fayle, he shal repente,

And eke abyde thilke day

To leve his abit, and goon his way,

4915

And lesith his worship and his name,

And dar not come ageyn for shame;

But al his lyf he doth so mourne,

Bicause he dar not hoom retourne.

Fredom of kinde so lost hath he

4920

That never may recured be,

But-if that god him graunte grace

That he may, er he hennes pace,

Conteyne undir obedience

Thurgh the vertu of pacience.

4925

For Youthe set man in al folye,

In unthrift and in ribaudye,

In leccherye, and in outrage,

So ofte it chaungith of corage.

Youthe ginneth ofte sich bargeyn,

4930

That may not ende withouten peyn.

In gret perel is set youth-hede,

Delyt so doth his bridil lede.

Delyt thus hangith, drede thee nought,

Bothe mannis body and his thought,

4935

Only thurgh Youthe, his chamberere,

That to don yvel is customere,

And of nought elles taketh hede

But only folkes for to lede

Into disporte and wildenesse,

4940

So is [she] froward from sadnesse.

'But Elde drawith hem therfro;

Who wot it nought, he may wel go

[216]

[Demand] of hem that now arn olde,

That whylom Youthe hadde in holde,

4945

Which yit remembre of tendir age,

How it hem brought in many a rage,

And many a foly therin wrought.

But now that Elde hath hem thurghsought,

They repente hem of her folye,

4950

That Youthe hem putte in Iupardye,

In perel and in muche wo,

And made hem ofte amis to do,

And suen yvel companye,

Riot and avouterye.

4955

'But Elde [can] ageyn restreyne

From suche foly, and refreyne,

And set men, by hir ordinaunce,

In good reule and in governaunce.

But yvel she spendith hir servyse,

4960

For no man wol hir love, ne pryse;

She is hated, this wot I wele.

Hir acqueyntaunce wolde no man fele,

Ne han of Elde companye,

Men hate to be of hir alye.

4965

For no man wolde bicomen olde,

Ne dye, whan he is yong and bolde.

And Elde merveilith right gretly,

Whan they remembre hem inwardly

Of many a perelous empryse,

4970

Whiche that they wrought in sondry wyse,

How ever they might, withoute blame,

Escape awey withoute shame,

In youthe, withoute[n] damage

Or repreef of her linage,

4975

Losse of membre, sheding of blode,

Perel of deth, or losse of good.

'Wost thou nought where Youthe abit,

That men so preisen in her wit?

With Delyt she halt soiour,

4980

For bothe they dwellen in oo tour.

As longe as Youthe is in sesoun,

They dwellen in oon mansioun.

Delyt of Youthe wol have servyse

To do what so he wol devyse;

4985

And Youthe is redy evermore

For to obey, for smerte of sore,

Unto Delyt, and him to yive

Hir servise, whyl that she may live.

'Where Elde abit, I wol thee telle

4990

Shortly, and no whyle dwelle,

For thider bihoveth thee to go.

If Deth in youthe thee not slo,

Of this journey thou maist not faile.

With hir Labour and Travaile

4995

Logged been, with Sorwe and Wo,

That never out of hir courte go.

Peyne and Distresse, Syknesse and Ire,

And Malencoly, that angry sire,

Ben of hir paleys senatours;

5000

Groning and Grucching, hir herbergeours,

The day and night, hir to turment,

With cruel Deth they hir present,

And tellen hir, erliche and late,

That Deth stant armed at hir gate.

[217]

5005

Than bringe they to hir remembraunce

The foly dedis of hir infaunce,

Which causen hir to mourne in wo

That Youthe hath hir bigiled so,

Which sodeynly awey is hasted.

5010

She wepeth the tyme that she hath wasted,

Compleyning of the preterit,

And the present, that not abit,

And of hir olde vanitee,

That, but aforn hir she may see

5015

In the future som socour,

To leggen hir of hir dolour,

To graunt hir tyme of repentaunce,

For hir sinnes to do penaunce,

And at the laste so hir governe

5020

To winne the Ioy that is eterne,

Fro which go bakward Youthe [hir] made,

In vanitee to droune and wade.

For present tyme abidith nought,

It is more swift than any thought;

5025

So litel whyle it doth endure

That ther nis compte ne mesure.

'But how that ever the game go,

Who list [have] Ioye and mirth also

Of love, be it he or she,

5030

High or lowe, who[so] it be,

In fruyt they shulde hem delyte;

Her part they may not elles quyte,

To save hem-silf in honestee.

And yit ful many oon I see

5035

Of wimmen, sothly for to seyne,

That [ay] desire and wolde fayne

The pley of love, they be so wilde,

And not coveite to go with childe.

And if with child they be perchaunce,

5040

They wole it holde a gret mischaunce;

But what-som-ever wo they fele,

They wol not pleyne, but concele;

But-if it be any fool or nyce,

In whom that shame hath no Iustyce.

5045

For to delyt echon they drawe,

That haunte this werk, bothe high and lawe,

Save sich that ar[e]n worth right nought,

That for money wol be bought.

Such love I preise in no wyse,

5050

Whan it is given for coveitise.

I preise no womman, though [she] be wood,

That yeveth hir-silf for any good.

For litel shulde a man telle

Of hir, that wol hir body selle,

5055

Be she mayde, be she wyf,

That quik wol selle hir, by hir lyf.

How faire chere that ever she make,

He is a wrecche, I undirtake,

That loveth such one, for swete or sour,

5060

Though she him calle hir paramour,

And laugheth on him, and makith him feeste.

For certeynly no suche [a] beeste

To be loved is not worthy,

Or bere the name of druery.

5065

Noon shulde hir please, but he were wood,

That wol dispoile him of his good.

Yit nevertheles, I wol not sey

[But] she, for solace and for pley,

May a Iewel or other thing

5070

Take of her loves free yeving;

[218]

But that she aske it in no wyse,

For drede of shame of coveityse.

And she of hirs may him, certeyn,

Withoute sclaundre, yeven ageyn,

5075

And ioyne her hertes togidre so

In love, and take and yeve also.

Trowe not that I wolde hem twinne,

Whan in her love ther is no sinne;

I wol that they togedre go,

5080

And doon al that they han ado,

As curteis shulde and debonaire,

And in her love beren hem faire,

Withoute vyce, bothe he and she;

So that alwey, in honestee,

5085

Fro foly love [they] kepe hem clere

That brenneth hertis with his fere;

And that her love, in any wyse,

Be devoid of coveityse.

Good love shulde engendrid be

5090

Of trewe herte, iust, and secree,

And not of such as sette her thought

To have her lust, and ellis nought,

So are they caught in Loves lace,

Truly, for bodily solace.

5095

Fleshly delyt is so present

With thee, that sette al thyn entent,

Withoute more (what shulde I glose?)

For to gete and have the Rose;

Which makith thee so mate and wood

5100

That thou desirest noon other good.

But thou art not an inche the nerre,

But ever abydest in sorwe and werre,

As in thy face it is sene;

It makith thee bothe pale and lene;

5105

Thy might, thy vertu goth away.

A sory gest, in goode fay,

Thou [herberedest than] in thyn inne,

The God of Love whan thou let inne!

Wherfore I rede, thou shette him out,

5110

Or he shal greve thee, out of doute;

For to thy profit it wol turne,

If he nomore with thee soiourne.

In gret mischeef and sorwe sonken

Ben hertis, that of love arn dronken,

5115

As thou peraventure knowen shal,

Whan thou hast lost [thy] tyme al,

And spent [thy youthe] in ydilnesse,

In waste, and woful lustinesse;

If thou maist live the tyme to see

5120

Of love for to delivered be,

Thy tyme thou shall biwepe sore

The whiche never thou maist restore.

(For tyme lost, as men may see,

For no-thing may recured be).

5125

And if thou scape yit, atte laste,

Fro Love, that hath thee so faste

Knit and bounden in his lace,

Certeyn, I holde it but a grace.

For many oon, as it is seyn,

5130

Have lost, and spent also in veyn,

In his servyse, withoute socour,

Body and soule, good, and tresour,

Wit, and strengthe, and eek richesse,

Of which they hadde never redresse.'

[219]

5135

Thus taught and preched hath Resoun,

But Love spilte hir sermoun,

That was so imped in my thought,

That hir doctrine I sette at nought.

And yit ne seide she never a dele,

5140

That I ne understode it wele,

Word by word, the mater al.

But unto Love I was so thral,

Which callith over-al his pray,

He chasith so my thought [alway],

5145

And holdith myn herte undir his sele,

As trust and trew as any stele;

So that no devocioun

Ne hadde I in the sermoun

Of dame Resoun, ne of hir rede;

5150

It toke no soiour in myn hede.

For alle yede out at oon ere

That in that other she dide lere;

Fully on me she lost hir lore,

Hir speche me greved wondir sore.

5155

[Than] unto hir for ire I seide,

For anger, as I dide abraide:

Dame, and is it your wille algate,

That I not love, but that I hate

Alle men, as ye me teche?

5160

For if I do aftir your speche,

Sith that ye seyn love is not good,

Than must I nedis say with mood,

If I it leve, in hatrede ay

Liven, and voide love away

5165

From me, [and been] a sinful wrecche,

Hated of all that [love that] tecche.

I may not go noon other gate,

For either must I love or hate.

And if I hate men of-newe

5170

More than love, it wol me rewe,

As by your preching semeth me,

For Love no-thing ne preisith thee.

Ye yeve good counseil, sikirly,

That prechith me al-day, that I

5175

Shulde not Loves lore alowe;

He were a fool, wolde you not trowe!

In speche also ye han me taught

Another love, that knowen is naught,

Which I have herd you not repreve,

5180

To love ech other; by your leve,

If ye wolde diffyne it me,

I wolde gladly here, to see,

At the leest, if I may lere

Of sondry loves the manere.'

5185

Raison. 'Certis, freend, a fool art thou

Whan that thou no-thing wolt allowe

That I [thee] for thy profit say.

Yit wol I sey thee more, in fay;

For I am redy, at the leste,

5190

To accomplisshe thy requeste,

But I not wher it wol avayle;

In veyne, perauntre, I shal travayle.

Love ther is in sondry wyse,

As I shal thee here devyse.

5195

For som love leful is and good;

I mene not that which makith thee wood,

And bringith thee in many a fit,

And ravisshith fro thee al thy wit,

It is so merveilous and queynt;

5200

With such love be no more aqueynt.

[220]

Comment Raisoun diffinist Amistie.

'Love of Frendshipe also ther is,

Which makith no man doon amis,

Of wille knit bitwixe two,

That wol not breke for wele ne wo;

5205

Which long is lykly to contune,

Whan wille and goodis ben in comune;

Grounded by goddis ordinaunce,

Hool, withoute discordaunce;

With hem holding comuntee

5210

Of al her goode in charitee,

That ther be noon excepcioun

Thurgh chaunging of entencioun;

That ech helpe other at hir neede,

And wysly hele bothe word and dede;

5215

Trewe of mening, devoid of slouthe,

For wit is nought withoute trouthe;

So that the ton dar al his thought

Seyn to his freend, and spare nought,

As to him-silf, without dreding

5220

To be discovered by wreying.

For glad is that coniunccioun,

Whan ther is noon suspecioun

[Ne lak in hem], whom they wolde prove

That trew and parfit weren in love.

5225

For no man may be amiable,

But-if he be so ferme and stable,

That fortune chaunge him not, ne blinde,

But that his freend alwey him finde,

Bothe pore and riche, in oon [e]state.

5230

For if his freend, thurgh any gate,

Wol compleyne of his povertee,

He shulde not byde so long, til he

Of his helping him requere;

For good deed, done [but] thurgh prayere,

5235

Is sold, and bought to dere, y-wis,

To hert that of gret valour is.

For hert fulfilled of gentilnesse

Can yvel demene his distresse.

And man that worthy is of name

5240

To asken often hath gret shame.

A good man brenneth in his thought

For shame, whan he axeth ought.

He hath gret thought, and dredith ay

For his disese, whan he shal pray

5245

His freend, lest that he warned be,

Til that he preve his stabiltee.

But whan that he hath founden oon

That trusty is and trew as stone,

And [hath] assayed him at al,

5250

And found him stedefast as a wal,

And of his freendship be certeyne,

He shal him shewe bothe Ioye and peyne,

And al that [he] dar thinke or sey,

Withoute shame, as he wel may.

5255

For how shulde he ashamed be

Of sich oon as I tolde thee?

For whan he woot his secree thought,

The thridde shal knowe ther-of right nought;

[221]

For tweyn in nombre is bet than three

5260

In every counsel and secree.

Repreve he dredeth never a del,

Who that biset his wordis wel;

For every wys man, out of drede,

Can kepe his tunge til he see nede;

5265

And fooles can not holde hir tunge;

A fooles belle is sone runge.

Yit shal a trewe freend do more

To helpe his felowe of his sore,

And socoure him, whan he hath nede,

5270

In al that he may doon in dede;

And gladder [be] that he him plesith

Than [is] his felowe that he esith.

And if he do not his requeste,

He shal as mochel him moleste

5275

As his felow, for that he

May not fulfille his voluntee

[As] fully as he hath requered.

If bothe the hertis Love hath fered,

Joy and wo they shul depart,

5280

And take evenly ech his part.

Half his anoy he shal have ay,

And comfort [him] what that he may;

And of his blisse parte shal he,

If love wol departed be.

5285

'And whilom of this [amitee]

Spak Tullius in a ditee;

["A man] shulde maken his request

Unto his freend, that is honest;

And he goodly shulde it fulfille,

5290

But it the more were out of skile,

And otherwise not graunt therto,

Except only in [cases] two:

If men his freend to deth wolde dryve,

Lat him be bisy to save his lyve.

5295

Also if men wolen him assayle,

Of his wurship to make him faile,

And hindren him of his renoun,

Lat him, with ful entencioun,

His dever doon in ech degree

5300

That his freend ne shamed be,

In this two [cases] with his might,

Taking no kepe to skile nor right,

As ferre as love may him excuse;

This oughte no man to refuse."

5305

This love that I have told to thee

Is no-thing contrarie to me;

This wol I that thou folowe wel,

And leve the tother everydel.

This love to vertu al attendith,

5310

The tothir fooles blent and shendith.

'Another love also there is,

That is contrarie unto this,

Which desyre is so constreyned

That [it] is but wille feyned;

5315

Awey fro trouthe it doth so varie,

That to good love it is contrarie;

For it maymeth, in many wyse,

Syke hertis with coveityse;

Al in winning and in profyt

5320

Sich love settith his delyt.

This love so hangeth in balaunce

That, if it lese his hope, perchaunce,

Of lucre, that he is set upon,

It wol faile, and quenche anon;

5325

For no man may be amorous,

Ne in his living vertuous,

But-[if] he love more, in mood,

Men for hem-silf than for hir good.

[222]

For love that profit doth abyde

5330

Is fals, and bit not in no tyde.

[This] love cometh of dame Fortune,

That litel whyle wol contune;

For it shal chaungen wonder sone,

And take eclips right as the mone,

5335

Whan she is from us [y]-let

Thurgh erthe, that bitwixe is set

The sonne and hir, as it may falle,

Be it in party, or in alle;

The shadowe maketh her bemis merke,

5340

And hir hornes to shewe derke,

That part where she hath lost hir lyght

Of Phebus fully, and the sight;

Til, whan the shadowe is overpast,

She is enlumined ageyn as faste,

5345

Thurgh brightnesse of the sonne bemes

That yeveth to hir ageyn hir lemes.

That love is right of sich nature;

Now is [it] fair, and now obscure.

Now bright, now clipsy of manere,

5350

And whylom dim, and whylom clere.

As sone as Poverte ginneth take,

With mantel and [with] wedis blake

[It] hidith of Love the light awey,

That into night it turneth day;

5355

It may not see Richesse shyne

Til the blakke shadowes fyne.

For, whan Richesse shyneth bright,

Love recovereth ageyn his light;

And whan it failith, he wol flit,

5360

And as she [groweth, so groweth] it.

'Of this love, here what I sey:—

The riche men are loved ay,

And namely tho that sparand bene,

That wol not wasshe hir hertes clene

5365

Of the filthe, nor of the vyce

Of gredy brenning avaryce.

The riche man ful fond is, y-wis,

That weneth that he loved is.

If that his herte it undirstood,

5370

It is not he, it is his good;

He may wel witen in his thought,

His good is loved, and he right nought.

For if he be a nigard eke,

Men wole not sette by him a leke,

5375

But haten him; this is the soth.

Lo, what profit his catel doth!

Of every man that may him see,

It geteth him nought but enmitee.

But he amende him of that vyce,

5380

And knowe him-silf, he is not wys.

'Certis, he shulde ay freendly be,

To gete him love also ben free,

Or ellis he is not wyse ne sage

No more than is a gote ramage.

5385

That he not loveth, his dede proveth,

Whan he his richesse so wel loveth,

That he wol hyde it ay and spare,

His pore freendis seen forfare;

To kepe [it ay is] his purpose,

5390

Til for drede his eyen close,

And til a wikked deth him take;

Him hadde lever asondre shake,

And late his limes a sondre ryve,

Than leve his richesse in his lyve.

[223]

5395

He thenkith parte it with no man;

Certayn, no love is in him than.

How shulde love within him be,

Whan in his herte is no pite?

That he trespasseth, wel I wat,

5400

For ech man knowith his estat;

For wel him oughte be reproved

That loveth nought, ne is not loved.

'But sith we arn to Fortune comen,

And [han] our sermoun of hir nomen,

5405

A wondir wil I telle thee now,

Thou herdist never sich oon, I trow.

I not wher thou me leven shal,

Though sothfastnesse it be [in] al,

As it is writen, and is sooth,

5410

That unto men more profit doth

The froward Fortune and contraire,

Than the swote and debonaire:

And if thee thinke it is doutable,

It is thurgh argument provable.

5415

For the debonaire and softe

Falsith and bigylith ofte;

For liche a moder she can cherishe

And milken as doth a norys;

And of hir goode to hem deles,

5420

And yeveth hem part of her loweles,

With grete richesse and dignitee;

And hem she hoteth stabilitee

In a state that is not stable,

But chaunging ay and variable;

5425

And fedith hem with glorie veyne,

And worldly blisse noncerteyne.

Whan she hem settith on hir whele,

Than wene they to be right wele,

And in so stable state withalle,

5430

That never they wene for to falle.

And whan they set so highe be,

They wene to have in certeintee

Of hertly frendis [so] gret noumbre,

That no-thing mighte her stat encombre;

5435

They truste hem so on every syde,

Wening with hem they wolde abyde

In every perel and mischaunce,

Withoute chaunge or variaunce,

Bothe of catel and of good;

5440

And also for to spende hir blood

And alle hir membris for to spille,

Only to fulfille hir wille.

They maken it hole in many wyse,

And hoten hem hir ful servyse,

5445

How sore that it do hem smerte,

Into hir very naked sherte!

Herte and al, so hole they yeve,

For the tyme that they may live,

So that, with her flaterye,

5450

They maken foolis glorifye

Of hir wordis [greet] speking,

And han [there]-of a reioysing,

And trowe hem as the Evangyle;

And it is al falsheed and gyle,

5455

As they shal afterwardes see,

Whan they arn falle in povertee,

And been of good and catel bare;

Than shulde they seen who freendis ware.

For of an hundred, certeynly,

5460

Nor of a thousand ful scarsly,

Ne shal they fynde unnethis oon,

Whan povertee is comen upon.

For [this] Fortune that I of telle,

With men whan hir lust to dwelle,

[224]

5465

Makith hem to lese hir conisaunce,

And nourishith hem in ignoraunce.

'But froward Fortune and perverse,

Whan high estatis she doth reverse,

And maketh hem to tumble doun

5470

Of hir whele, with sodeyn tourn,

And from hir richesse doth hem flee,

And plongeth hem in povertee,

As a stepmoder envyous,

And leyeth a plastre dolorous

5475

Unto her hertis, wounded egre,

Which is not tempred with vinegre,

But with poverte and indigence,

For to shewe, by experience,

That she is Fortune verely

5480

In whom no man shulde affy,

Nor in hir yeftis have fiaunce,

She is so ful of variaunce.

Thus can she maken high and lowe,

Whan they from richesse ar[e]n throwe,

5485

Fully to knowen, withouten were,

Freend of effect, and freend of chere;

And which in love weren trew and stable,

And whiche also weren variable,

After Fortune, hir goddesse,

5490

In poverte, outher in richesse;

For al [she] yeveth, out of drede,

Unhappe bereveth it in dede;

For Infortune lat not oon

Of freendis, whan Fortune is goon;

5495

I mene tho freendis that wol flee

Anoon as entreth povertee.

And yit they wol not leve hem so,

But in ech place where they go

They calle hem "wrecche," scorne and blame,

5500

And of hir mishappe hem diffame,

And, namely, siche as in richesse

Pretendith most of stablenesse,

Whan that they sawe him set onlofte,

And weren of him socoured ofte,

5505

And most y-holpe in al hir nede:

But now they take no maner hede,

But seyn, in voice of flaterye,

That now apperith hir folye,

Over-al where-so they fare,

5510

And singe, "Go, farewel feldefare."

Alle suche freendis I beshrewe,

For of [the] trewe ther be to fewe;

But sothfast freendis, what so bityde,

In every fortune wolen abyde;

5515

They han hir hertis in suche noblesse

That they nil love for no richesse;

Nor, for that Fortune may hem sende,

They wolen hem socoure and defende;

And chaunge for softe ne for sore,

5520

For who is freend, loveth evermore.

Though men drawe swerd his freend to slo,

He may not hewe hir love a-two.

[225]

But, in [the] case that I shal sey,

For pride and ire lese it he may,

5525

And for reprove by nycetee,

And discovering of privitee,

With tonge wounding, as feloun,

Thurgh venemous detraccioun.

Frend in this case wol gon his way,

5530

For no-thing greve him more ne may;

And for nought ellis wol he flee,

If that he love in stabilitee.

And certeyn, he is wel bigoon

Among a thousand that fyndith oon.

5535

For ther may be no richesse,

Ageyns frendship, of worthinesse;

For it ne may so high atteigne

As may the valoure, sooth to seyne,

Of him that loveth trew and wel;

5540

Frendship is more than is catel.

For freend in court ay better is

Than peny in [his] purs, certis;

And Fortune, mishapping,

Whan upon men she is [falling],

5545

Thurgh misturning of hir chaunce,

And casteth hem oute of balaunce,

She makith, thurgh hir adversitee,

Men ful cleerly for to see

Him that is freend in existence

5550

From him that is by apparence.

For Infortune makith anoon

To knowe thy freendis fro thy foon,

By experience, right as it is;

The which is more to preyse, y-wis,

5555

Than [is] miche richesse and tresour;

For more [doth] profit and valour

Poverte, and such adversitee,

Bifore than doth prosperitee;

For the toon yeveth conisaunce,

5560

And the tother ignoraunce.

'And thus in poverte is in dede

Trouthe declared fro falsehede;

For feynte frendis it wol declare,

And trewe also, what wey they fare.

5565

For whan he was in his richesse,

These freendis, ful of doublenesse,

Offrid him in many wyse

Hert and body, and servyse.

What wolde he than ha [yeve] to ha bought

5570

To knowen openly her thought,

That he now hath so clerly seen?

The lasse bigyled he sholde have been

And he hadde than perceyved it,

But richesse nold not late him wit.

5575

Wel more avauntage doth him than,

Sith that it makith him a wys man,

The greet mischeef that he [receyveth],

Than doth richesse that him deceyveth.

Richesse riche ne makith nought

5580

Him that on tresour set his thought;

For richesse stont in suffisaunce

And no-thing in habundaunce;

For suffisaunce al-only

Makith men to live richely.

5585

For he that hath [but] miches tweyne,

Ne [more] value in his demeigne,

Liveth more at ese, and more is riche,

Than doth he that is [so] chiche,

[226]

And in his bern hath, soth to seyn,

5590

An hundred [muwis] of whete greyn,

Though he be chapman or marchaunt,

And have of golde many besaunt.

For in the geting he hath such wo,

And in the keping drede also,

5595

And set evermore his bisynesse

For to encrese, and not to lesse,

For to augment and multiply.

And though on hepis [it] lye him by,

Yit never shal make his richesse

5600

Asseth unto his gredinesse.

But the povre that recchith nought,

Save of his lyflode, in his thought,

Which that he getith with his travaile,

He dredith nought that it shal faile,

5605

Though he have lytel worldis good,

Mete and drinke, and esy food,

Upon his travel and living,

And also suffisaunt clothing.

Or if in syknesse that he falle,

5610

And lothe mete and drink withalle,

Though he have nought, his mete to by,

He shal bithinke him hastely,

To putte him out of al daunger,

That he of mete hath no mister;

5615

Or that he may with litel eke

Be founden, whyl that he is seke;

Or that men shul him bere in hast,

To live, til his syknesse be past,

To somme maysondewe bisyde;

5620

He cast nought what shal him bityde.

He thenkith nought that ever he shal

Into any syknesse falle.

'And though it falle, as it may be,

That al betyme spare shal he

5625

As mochel as shal to him suffyce,

Whyl he is syke in any wyse,

He doth [it], for that he wol be

Content with his povertee

Withoute nede of any man.

5630

So miche in litel have he can,

He is apayed with his fortune;

And for he nil be importune

Unto no wight, ne onerous,

Nor of hir goodes coveitous;

5635

Therfore he spareth, it may wel been,

His pore estat for to sustene.

'Or if him lust not for to spare,

But suffrith forth, as nought ne ware,

Atte last it hapneth, as it may,

5640

Right unto his laste day,

And taketh the world as it wolde be;

For ever in herte thenkith he,

The soner that [the] deeth him slo,

To paradys the soner go

5645

He shal, there for to live in blisse,

Where that he shal no good misse.

Thider he hopith god shal him sende

Aftir his wrecchid lyves ende.

Pictagoras himsilf reherses,

5650

In a book that the Golden verses

[227]

Is clepid, for the nobilitee

Of the honourable ditee:—

"Than, whan thou gost thy body fro,

Free in the eir thou shalt up go,

5655

And leven al humanitee,

And purely live in deitee."—

He is a fool, withouten were,

That trowith have his countre here.

"In erthe is not our countree,"

5660

That may these clerkis seyn and see

In Boece of Consolacioun,

Where it is maked mencioun

Of our countree pleyn at the eye,

By teching of philosophye,

5665

Where lewid men might lere wit,

Who-so that wolde translaten it.

If he be sich that can wel live

Aftir his rente may him yive,

And not desyreth more to have,

5670

That may fro povertee him save:

A wys man seide, as we may seen,

Is no man wrecched, but he it wene,

Be he king, knight, or ribaud.

And many a ribaud is mery and baud,

5675

That swinkith, and berith, bothe day and night,

Many a burthen of gret might,

The whiche doth him lasse offense,

For he suffrith in pacience.

They laugh and daunce, trippe and singe,

5680

And ley not up for her living,

But in the tavern al dispendith

The winning that god hem sendith.

Than goth he, fardels for to bere,

With as good chere as he dide ere;

5685

To swinke and traveile he not feynith,

For for to robben he disdeynith;

But right anoon, aftir his swinke,

He goth to tavern for to drinke.

Alle these ar riche in abundaunce,

5690

That can thus have suffisaunce

Wel more than can an usurere,

As god wel knowith, withoute were.

For an usurer, so god me see,

Shal never for richesse riche bee,

5695

But evermore pore and indigent,

Scarce, and gredy in his entent.

'For soth it is, whom it displese,

Ther may no marchaunt live at ese,

His herte in sich a were is set,

5700

That it quik brenneth [more] to get,

Ne never shal [enough have] geten;

Though he have gold in gerners yeten,

For to be nedy he dredith sore.

Wherfore to geten more and more

5705

He set his herte and his desire;

So hote he brennith in the fire

Of coveitise, that makith him wood

To purchase other mennes good.

He undirfongith a gret peyne,

5710

That undirtakith to drinke up Seyne;

For the more he drinkith, ay

The more he leveth, the soth to say.

[This is the] thurst of fals geting,

That last ever in coveiting,

5715

And the anguisshe and distresse

With the fire of gredinesse.

[228]

She fighteth with him ay, and stryveth,

That his herte asondre ryveth;

Such gredinesse him assaylith,

5720

That whan he most hath, most he faylith.

Phisiciens and advocates

Gon right by the same yates;

They selle hir science for winning,

And haunte hir crafte for greet geting.

5725

Hir winning is of such swetnesse,

That if a man falle in sikenesse,

They are ful glad, for hir encrese;

For by hir wille, withoute lees,

Everiche man shulde be seke,

5730

And though they dye, they set not a leke.

After, whan they the gold have take,

Ful litel care for hem they make.

They wolde that fourty were seke at onis,

Ye, two hundred, in flesh and bonis,

5735

And yit two thousand, as I gesse,

For to encresen her richesse.

They wol not worchen, in no wyse,

But for lucre and coveityse;

For fysyk ginneth first by fy,

5740

The fysycien also sothely;

And sithen it goth fro fy to sy;

To truste on hem, it is foly;

For they nil, in no maner gree,

Do right nought for charitee.

5745

'Eke in the same secte are set

Alle tho that prechen for to get

Worshipes, honour, and richesse.

Her hertis arn in greet distresse,

That folk [ne] live not holily.

5750

But aboven al, specialy,

Sich as prechen [for] veynglorie,

And toward god have no memorie,

But forth as ypocrites trace,

And to her soules deth purchace,

5755

And outward [shewen] holynesse,

Though they be fulle of cursidnesse.

Not liche to the apostles twelve,

They deceyve other and hem-selve;

Bigyled is the gyler than.

5760

For preching of a cursed man,

Though [it] to other may profyte,

Himsilf availeth not a myte;

For oft good predicacioun

Cometh of evel entencioun.

5765

To him not vailith his preching,

Al helpe he other with his teching;

For where they good ensaumple take,

There is he with veynglorie shake.

'But lat us leven these prechoures,

5770

And speke of hem that in her toures

Hepe up her gold, and faste shette,

And sore theron her herte sette.

They neither love god, ne drede;

They kepe more than it is nede,

5775

And in her bagges sore it binde,

Out of the sonne, and of the winde;

They putte up more than nede ware,

Whan they seen pore folk forfare,

For hunger dye, and for cold quake;

5780

God can wel vengeaunce therof take.

[Thre] gret mischeves hem assailith,

And thus in gadring ay travaylith;

[229]

With moche peyne they winne richesse;

And drede hem holdith in distresse,

5785

To kepe that they gadre faste;

With sorwe they leve it at the laste;

With sorwe they bothe dye and live,

That to richesse her hertis yive,

And in defaute of love it is,

5790

As it shewith ful wel, y-wis.

For if these gredy, the sothe to seyn,

Loveden, and were loved ageyn,

And good love regned over-alle,

Such wikkidnesse ne shulde falle;

5795

But he shulde yeve that most good had

To hem that weren in nede bistad,

And live withoute fals usure,

For charitee ful clene and pure.

If they hem yeve to goodnesse,

5800

Defending hem from ydelnesse,

In al this world than pore noon

We shulde finde, I trowe, not oon.

But chaunged is this world unstable;

For love is over-al vendable.

5805

We see that no man loveth now

But for winning and for prow;

And love is thralled in servage

Whan it is sold for avauntage;

Yit wommen wol hir bodies selle;

5810

Suche soules goth to the devel of helle.'

1721. G. botheum; Th. bothum; read botoun. 1727. Th. shotte. 1728. G. me nye (!) 1732. Both Sithen; Th. chyuered. 1733. I supply that. 1736. I supply ther; F. iluec. 1743. Th. drey; G. drie. 1749. Th. yet; G. atte. 1750. Th. whiche; G. which it. 1757. G. to do; Th. do. 1758. Both two (!). 1761. Both bothum. 1766. Both certis euenly. 1771. a] Both his.

1779. I supply myn. 1786. Both bothom; so in 1790. 1791. Both were to haue. 1797, 8. Th. fyne, pyne; G. feyne, peyne. 1806. Th. of; G. on. 1808. Both drawe. 1811. Th. stycked; G. stikith. 1814. felte] both lefte (!).

1845. Both bothom. 1848. Both mighte it. 1851. Both sene I hadde. 1853, 4. Both thore, more; see l. 1857. 1856. G. thens; Th. thence. 1860. G. Castith; Th. Casteth. 1863. G. which. 1873. Th. dethe; G. deth. 1874. G. Whader; Th. Whether. 1879. I supply ful. 1892. So Th.; G. (in late hand) That he hadde the body hole made. 1895. Both without.

Transpose 1913, 4? 1922. Th. hem; G. hym. 1924. Both softyng; see 1925. 1925. Both prikkith. 1929. Th. iape. 1933. Th. hastely; G. hastly. 1934. I supply the. 1946. Both al. 1965. Both loue (!). 1971. Both Without.

1982. G. om. me. 1984. Th. Sens. 1994. Supply to; see 2126. 1999. Th. sythe; G. sith; read sithen. 2002. For of read to? 2006. G. must. Both kysse. 2012. Both without. 2018. Both gonfenoun. 2022. I supply so. 2030. G. thens; Th. thence. 2033. Both without. 2038. Perhaps quoynt. 2044. Perhaps tan (for taken).

2046. Both Disteyned (F. deceus). 2049. Both ins. her after through. 2066. G. wole; Th. wot (F. savez). 2067. Both susprised. 2068. Perhaps tan (for taken). 2074. I supply it. 2076. G. disese; Th. desese (F. dessaisir). 2085. Th. tresore; G. tresour. 2099. I supply al. 2105. Th. at; G. atte.

2109. Om. But? 2116. Read gree? 2132. G. compleysshen; Th. accomplysshen. 2141. I supply sinne. 2142. Th. entierly. 2150. G. Whanne that; Th. Whan. 2154. Both bigynneth to amende. 2167. Th. he; G. ye.

2176. G. say; Th. saye. 2178. G. ageyns; Th. ayenst. 2183. G. withouten; Th. without. 2185. G. resseyue; Th. receyue. Both vnto (for to). 2191. I supply that. 2195. Both in (for a). 2208. G. yong; Th. yonge. 2215. G. more; Th. mare. 2218. Th. hem; G. him. 2219, 20. Both somme, domme. 2224. Th. rybaudye; G. rebaudrye. 2234. Th. sette; G. om.

2247. Both trewly. 2249, 2251, 2254. Both Without. 2261. I supply hem; both best. 2264. G. streght. Both on (for upon). 2268. G. ruyde; Th. rude (F. cil vilain). 2271. G. streit. Th. aumere; G. awmere; see 2087. 2278. Th. Whit-; G. wis-. 2279. Both costneth (F. couste). 2285. Both Farce. 2294. G. knowith (!); so Th. 2302. Both pleyneth (!).

2305. I supply som. 2309. I supply best. 2316. Th. tyl; G. to. 2318. G. om. no. 2327. Both meuen. 2336. Both londes; read Loues. 2341. G. this swiffte (so Th.; F. si riche don). Both it is; om. it. 2344, 9. I supply that. 2347. Both better. 2355. G. that heere; Th. om. that.

2362. I supply eek. 2365. Both and (for in). 2367, 8. Both departe, parte. 2371, 2. So Th.; G. sitte, flitte. 2383. I supply wol. 2384. G. om. is. 2388. I supply al. 2395-2442. Not in G.; from Th. 2401. I supply yit. 2403, 4. Th. fal, al. 2405. Th. holy. 2413. As] Th. A.

2427. Th. sene (F. envoier). 2432. Th. gone and visyten. 2437, 8. Th. sene, bene. 2443. G. begins again. 2446. Both thou dost; om. thou. 2454. For wolt read nilt? 2466. Om. of? 2472. I supply the. 2473. For Thought read That swete? 2477. I supply thou.

2492. Both domme. 2494, 2521. Th. faste; G. fast. 2499. G. yitt; Th. yet (for yif). 2532. I supply thy; F. ta raison. Th. durste; G. derst. 2541. a] Th. o.

2550. Th. batell; G. batelle. 2563, 4. Th. a-brede, forwerede; G. abrode, forweriede; see 3251. 2569. seme] Both se. 2576. Th. slombrest. 2578. G. om. a.

2610. Th. Withouten; G. Without. Th. kesse; G. kysse. 2617. Both I wote not; read I noot. 2619. Both better. 2621. Both on hir I caste. 2622. Both That (for Than). 2628. Both liggen. 2649. Th. shalt; G. shalle. 2650. Both whider (!). 2655, 6. Th. aferde, vnsperde; G. afeerd, unspered. 2660. Th. shore. 2664. Th. thy; G. the. 2668. Both without. 2669. Both om. a.

2675. Th. whan; G. whanne; read wham or whom; F. De qui tu ne pues avoir aise. 2676. Corrupt; F. Au departir la porte baise. Th. awey; G. away. 2683. Th. ins. any (G. ony) bef. wene. 2687. Th. selfe; G. silf. 2688. Th. assayed; G. assaid. 2690. Both for to (for to). 2693. Th. ofte; G. of. 2697. Th. dothe; G. doith. 2700. I supply hir. 2709, 2710. Both more, fore; read mare, fare. I supply thee. 2712. Perhaps omit to. 2729. Th. Aye; G. A-yee.

2746. I supply may. 2748. Th. great; G. greet. 2752. For that read yet? 2755, 6. Th. sete, ete; G. sett, ete. 2760. Both yeue. 2763. I supply his. Th. trust; G. trist. 2774. Both aftirward. 2775. I supply to. 2777. Both yeue. 2786. Both endure. 2789, 90. Th. solace, lace. G. Doith. 2791. Both first.

2796. G. Thenkyng; Th. Thynkyng; see 2804. 2798. Both and in peyne. 2801. Both ins. to bef. have. 2824. Both not ben; F. tu seroies. 2831. Both myght. 2833. Both me (for hem); see 2845. 2845. I supply my; see 2833. 2846. G. sittith; Th. sytteth. 2854. Th. him; G. hem. Th. apayde; G. apaied; see l. 2891.

2895. G. and of; Th. om. of. 2897. G. which. 2912. I supply yit. 2916. I supply it. Th. conuoye G. conueye. 2917. they] Both thou.

2921, 2. Both sene, clene; supply he. 2934. I supply that. 2935. Both declared thee. 2946. Th. sufferaunce; G. suffraunce. 2950. Both yeue. 2954. Th. vanysshed; G. vanyshide. 2960, 2973. Both bothom; read botoun. 2970. G. bisiede; Th. besyed. 2971. Th. haye; G. hay.

2981. Th. gladde; G. glad. 2984. F. Bel-Acueil. 2987. G. outter; Th. vtter. 2990. Th. fresshe; G. fresh. 2992. Both warrans; I supply I be; F. Ge vous i puis bien garantir. 3000. Th. hertely; G. hertly. 3001. I supply I. 3009, 3013. Both bothom; read botoun. 3010. Th: fresshe; G. fresh. Th. spronge; G. sprange. 3012. Both myght. 3020. Th. grasse; G. gras. 3029. I insert no. 3035. Both Brought; I supply On lyve (i. e. to life). Th. ylke; G. ilk.

3038. Th. so vgly; G. so oughlye; om. so. 3045. Both bothoms; read botouns. Th. las; G. lasse. 3046. Th. sondrie; G. sondre. 3047. Th. wyste; G. wist. 3050, 3064. Both Bothoms. 3052. Both Venus hath flemed. 3058. G. om. is. 3071, 6, 8. Both bothom. 3079. I supply me; F. me fis. 3083. G. waxe; Th. wext.

3109. Both bothom. 3115. Both arise; read ryse. 3125. Both And late (lette) it growe. 3127, 8. Both were, bere. 3136. G. om. Th. His eyes reed sparclyng as the fyre-glowe (too long); F. S'ot les yex rouges comme feus. 3037. Both kirked. 3150. I] G. it; Th. he; F. ge. 3154. Th. agayne; G. ageyns.

3164. Th. he; G. it. 3179. I supply wot. 3186. Th. brast; G. barste. 3188. G. That was; Th. m. That. Th. through; G. thurgh. 3191. Th. highe; G. high. 3195. Both without. 3201. on] G. in (!). 3207. Both For nature; I omit For. 3209. Both but if the. 3213. Th. seignorie; G. seignurie.

3219,20. G. freende, sheende; Th. frende, shende. 3221. Th. the; G. ye. 3227. G. didest (!). 3228. Th. had; G. hadde; read haddest. 3230. I supply ward. 3231,2. Both wene, sene; I supply thee. 3248. G. om. nat. 3251. Th. werrey; G. werye. 3264. Both seyne; feyne seems better. 3266. I supply it. 3274. Both he be a; I omit a. 3279. G. om. of.

3282. Th. moche; G. mych. 3292. G. arrage (!). 3301. After gete, Th. ins. the, and G. thee. 3315. Th. counsayle; G. counsele. 3320. Both thought; read taughte. 3331. Both Who that; I omit that. 3337. Both cherisaunce; F. chevissance. 3340. Both myght. 3344. Both fast.

3350. Both witholde. 3355. Th. whiche; G. which. 3356. G. om. have. Th. meymed. 3364. Th. fresshe; G. fresh. Both bothom. 3372. Th. fiers. 3379. Th. meke; G. make. 3385. I supply him. 3399. Th. forbode; G. fobede; read forbad. 3406. I supply sir. 3408. Both amenden.

3414. G. om. I. 3418. G. you shulde. 3429. G. doon elles welle; Th. done al wel; F. Toutes vos autres volentes Ferai. 3433. Th. suche; G. sichen; F. puis-qu'il me siet. 3447. Both where that the; I omit that. 3448. I supply thou; F. tu. 3454. Th. tale; G. talle. 3455. Th. affayre; G. affere. 3462. Both good mes (sic); F. en bon point; see l. 1453. 3464. Both -come. 3468. G. om. me.

3473. Both bothom. 3482. Morris supplies hard. 3490. Both That he had. 3491. G. Thanne; Th. Than; read That; F. Qu'Amors. 3498. G. Thou; Th. Tho. Both and me (for and). 3502. Both bothom. 3508. I supply word. 3510. Th. moche; G. mych. 3522. Both ye (for he); F. Que il. 3525. Both it is.

3534. G. to beye; Th. to bey. 3548. Both This; F. C'est; This = This is. 3552. Th. he; G. ye. 3554. Both Vpon (for On). 3560. Read mis (for amis). 3563. Th. moste; G. most. 3590. G. lette; Th. let. 3591. Th. hye; G. high.

3595-3690. Not in G.; from Th. 3599, 3600. Th. please, ease. 3604. Th. dare (for thar), wrongly. Th. aferde. 3615. Th. without. 3619. Th. hadde. 3620. Th. leaue. 3622. Th. hel. 3626. Th. eftres. 3633. Th. spannysshinge. 3641. Th. without. 3642. Th. sene. 3643. Th. the god of blesse; F. Diex la beneie. 3646. Th. marueyle.

3656. Th. leysar. 3660. Th. That so swetely. 3663. Th. cosse. 3667. Th. sayd. 3670, 1. Th. dare. 3674. Th. ywisse. 3676. Th. lyfe; read live. 3679. Th. best. 3687. Th. first. 3688. Th. fel downe. 3690. Th. grapes be ripe; om. be. 3691. G. begins again. 3694. Both Though. 3697. Both rennyng (for rewing). 3698. Both come (absurdly); see l. 3700; read to me. 3699. Th. werryeth; G. werieth; F. guerroie. 3707. Th. flame. 3709. Both hette. 3710. G. herte is; Th. hert is; read hertis = hertes. Both sette. 3716. G. nelle; Th. nyl. 3718. Both neithir (for nor).

3723. G. pruyde. 3730. Th. warne; G. worne. 3742. G. outterly; Th. vtterly. 3745. Both pleyne (playne). 3746. Both -nysse. 3748. G. thenkith. 3749. Th. warne; G. worne. 3751. Both ye helpe; read to helpe. 3755. Th. with his hete. 3756. Both ins. me after bad. 3757. G. Grauntede; Th. Graunt. 3761. Thar] Th. There nede. 3763. Both Stroke. 3774. G. it wille; Th. at wyl. 3779. Th. selde; G. yelde.

3790. G. strong; Th. stronge. 3803, 3811. Both bare. 3805. G. gret; Th. great. 3807. Both myght. 3808. G. report. 3812. Both square. 3832. Th. regarde. 3834. Th. thus; G. this. 3845. I supply not. 3846. I supply to. 3848. G. thenkith.

3852. I supply Ne. Both verge; see 3234. G. hadde; Th. had. 3862. Th. wende; G. wente. 3864. Th. vayle; G. bayle. Th. stede; G. stide. 3877. Both first. 3880. G. fals. Both lye. 3885. G. such. 3889. G. vylonye. 3891. M. supplies for. 3895. Both trechours. 3897. I supply wel. 3902. Both herte I crye. 3907. Both lowe. 3912. G. yhe; Th. eye. 3915. I supply yit. 3917. Th. werreyed; G. werried.

3928. Th. Counsayle. Both must; read mot, and supply take. 3942. Both Do; read To. Both fortresse; F. forteresce. 3943. Both Thanne (Than) close; F. Qui les Roses clorra entor. 3954. Th. blende; G. blynde. 3955. I supply for. 3967. I supply Til. Both last. 3971. Both ferre. 3973. I supply so. 3974. I supply do. 3977. Th. haue. 3979. Both shamed. 3982. G. withoute; Th. without.

3985, 6. G. om. he. 3994. Th. vilanously; G. vilaynesly. 4000. Both right. I supply bothe a-. 4009, 4016. G. doist. 4011. Both bothoms. 4015. Both Stoute, porte. 4021. G. an high; Th. an hye; read in hy. 4026. Both To make. 4036. Both sittith (-eth). 4044. I supply not.

4059. Th. sothe; G. sooth. G. knowe. 4063. as] G. a. 4065. G. om. he. 4072. G. gardyne. 4073. a-fere, i. e. on fire. 4089. Both put it after I. 4096. Both me (for men). 4098. Both myght. 4110. Th. quake; C. quoke. 4111. Both bothom. I supply that.

4114. Th. moche; G. mych. 4120. Th. fresshe; G. fresh. 4158. G. Aboute; Th. About. 4159. G. fademe. 4175. M. supplies ne. 4177. Supply For (F. Car). Both temprure.

4181. Both of; read as. 4188. Both Roses; read Rosers; F. rosiers. 4191. G. and bows; Th. bowes and. 4194. whiche] Both who. 4207. I supply eek. 4208. G. om. kepte. 4220. Th. lefte; G. lyft. 4222. M. supplies hir. 4142. Th. Ofter; G. Ofte.

4246. G. wole. 4254. M. supplies ne. 4264. Th. eye; G. ighe. 4269. Th. deserte; G. disseit. 4272. Both walketh (!). 4283. Both lyue. 4285. Both Which (for Ther); giving no sense. 4288. Th. whiche; G. which. 4289. I supply muche. 4291. Both except. 4293. I supply loveres. 4294. I supply the. 4308. Both bothoms.

4314. G. om. of. 4322. Both wente aboute (a = have). 4337. Both make. 4339. G. tiliers; Th. tyllers. 4344. Th. nyl; G. nel. 4352. Both wente; aboven to haue. 4355. Th. folke; G. folk. 4356. G. glowmbe; Th. glombe. 4357. M. supplies thou. 4358. I supply in. Th. tourneth; G. tourne. 4361. Th. areyse; G. arise. 4363. Th. hyest. Both but; read al. Both lust. 4364. Both trust. 4365. am] Both is. 4366. Both charge. 4372. wal] G. wole; Th. wol.

4394. Both maist. 4401. I supply is. 4403. Both ought. 4404. I supply ther. 4407. I supply man. 4413. Both Owe. 4414. Th. false; G. fals 4425. Both good. 4432. Both falle.

4440. G. reles; Th. relees. 4441. G. baalis; Th. bales. 4448. Th. vtterly. 4452. Th. traueyle. 4460. Th. put; G. putte. 4465. Th. nathelesse; G. neuertheles; after which G. has yit (Th. yet). 4467. Both her (for his). 4472. G. no; Th. ne. 4476. Both preise; read pryse. 4477. Th. a-sondre; G. asundry. 4478. I supply me have; F. Avoir me lest tant de contraires. 4483. G. Dre (!). 4486. G. putte. 4492. G. sonner. 4495. Both ferre.

4509. I supply The. 4510. Both symply; read simpilly? 4511. I supply may. 4513, 4. Th. dout, out; G. doute, oute. 4528. G. verger. 4537. G. Sheo. 4541. G. assayde; G. om. not. 4549. Th. engyns; G. engynnes. 4550. Both Loue; read lorde. 4556. Th. moche that it; G. mych that. 4557. Both lete = leet. 4561. Both yeue good wille; F. se Diex plaist.

4567, 4573, 4584. G. thenke. 4574. Both take. G. att; Th. at. 4587. Om. ne? 4614. G. om. Or. 4615. Rubrie in both. 4617. For not read nist? 4621. G. wijs. 4623. Both right. 4628. Th. came; G. come.

4634. Both the. I insert pyned. Th. suche. 4638. Both myght. 4647. Both liege. 4657. G. I lovede; Th. I loued; read han loved. 4659. (ends at parde); misnumbered 4660 in M. Th. Ye; G. Yhe. 4660. Th. Yes; G. Yhis. 4667. misnumbered 4670 in M. 4672. G. a state. 4680. G. Yhe. 4683. Both knowe. 4684. G. ony.

4689. I supply here lerne; both withouten. 4690. Both withouten. 4700. G. knette; Th. knytte. 4705. Both And through the; read A trouthe. Both frette. 4709. G. vode (for wood); Th. voyde. 4710. G. perelle. 4712. Th. weare. 4713. G. karibdous; Th. Carybdes; F. Caribdis. 4721. Th. lyke; G. like; read sike. Th. sickenesse; G. sekenesse. 4722. G. trust; Th. truste; (thrust = thirst). Both and (for in). 4723. Both And. G. helth. 4725. Both And. G. anger; Th. angre (!). 4728. Both dreried. 4731. Both Sen. 4732. Supply with. 4736. Supply stat; F. Estat trop fers et trop muable.

4755. Both by (for be). 4758. M supplies is. 4762. G. mychel; see 4757. 4764. Both That; read But. 4771, 2. Both bene, flene. 4793. I supply I. Both euer; read er. 4796. Both al by partuere. 4799. Both greven. 4802. Th. lewdest. 4804. Th. lacke; G. lak. 4807. Both diffyned here.

4811. G. kned; Th. knedde. Both bitwixt. 4812. Both With. 4813. Both frely that; I omit that. G. nylle. 4823. Both engendrure; see 6114. 4830. G. om. at. 4834. Both swerne. 4837. Both han her lust. 4839. Th. om. they. 4846. who] Both what. 4856. G. omits; from Th. 4858. Both their; read ther. 4865. Both sette. 4873. G. parfight; T. parfyte.

4875. Th. crease. 4878. Th. vyce; G. wise. 4882. Th. Tullyus; G. Tulius. 4889. Both sette. 4892. G. perell; Th. parel; read tyme. Th. youthe; G. yougth. 4904. Both yalte. I supply him. 4921. Both But that if. 4926. G. om. in. 4931. Th. youth-hede; G. youthede. 4933. thus] Both this. 4935. Both youthes chambre (chambere); read Youthe his chamberere; F. Par Ionesce sa chamberiere. 4936. G. custommere. 4940. Supply she.

4943. Both And mo of (!). 4945. Both remembreth. 4948. Both him; read hem. 4950. Th. ieopardye. 4951. Th. moche; G. mych. 4954. G. avoutrie; Th. avoutrye. 4955. can] Both gan. 4956. Th. suche; G. sich. 4960. Both neither preise. 4996. Th. courte; G. court. 5000. Th. herbegeours; G. herbeiours. 5004. Th. stondeth; G. stondith.

5010. Both weped. 5021. Both he (for hir). 5028. Both list to loue. 5030. Supply so. 5036. Supply ay. 5050. Both gouen. 5051. Both so; read she (or sho). 5059. Both loued. 5062. Th. suche; G. such; I supply a. 5064. Th. Drury; G. drurie. 5068. But] Both That; cf. 4764.

5085. they] Both to. 5099. G. om. thee. 5107. G. herberest hem; Th. herborest. 5111. G. profiȝt. 5116. thy] Both the; F. ton. 5117. Both by thought; F. ta Ionesce. 5124. Th. recouered.

5144. alway] G. ay; Th. aye. 5155. Both That; F. Lors. 5162. (say = assay?) 5165. I supply and been. 5166. I supply love that. 5168. Th. eyther; G. other. 5187. I supply thee.

5223. I supply Ne ... hem. 5229. Both oo state; read oon estate; see 5400. 5234, 49, 53. Supply but, hath, he.

5259. Th. in; G. of. 5261. G. dreded. 5271, 72, 82, 5314, 27. Supply be, is, him, it, if. 5277, 8. Supply As. Th. requyred, fyred. Perhaps om. the. 5283. his] Both this. 5285. Both vnyte. 5286. Th. Tullius; G. Tulius. 5287. A man] Both And. 5292. Th. causes; G. cause; see 5301, 5523. 5301. G. caas; Th. case. 5304. Both ought. 5325. G. amerous.

5330. Th. bydeth; G. bit. 5331, 48, 52, 53. Supply This, it, with, It. 5335. Both he; read she; see 5337, 5341. 5345. Both Thurgh the; I omit the. 5356. Th. blacke; G. blak. 5360. Both greueth so greueth. 5367. Th. fonde; G. fonned. 5375. Both sothe. 5376. Th. his; G. this. 5379. Both him silf (selfe) of. 5389. Both kepen ay his; see 5387. 5390. Th. eyne; G. iyen. 5393. G. alle hise lymes; Th. al his lymmes; I omit alle.

5399. Th. wate; G. wote. 5400, 1. Both estate; ought to be. 5403. Th. sithe; G. se. 5404. Both hath. 5408. in] G. it; Th. om. 5419, 20, 25, 27, 36. Both hym (!); F. les. 5425. G. glorie and veyne. 5431. Both high. 5433. so] Both to. 5446. G. om. very. 5451. I supply greet. 5452. Th. chere (for there); G. cheer (!). 5455. G. aftirward; Th. afterwarde. 5463. Both thus.

5465. Th. hem; G. men. 5470. Th. Of; G. Or with. 5478. Read She sheweth, by experience. 5485. Both without. 5486. Both affect; see note. 5489. Th. goddesse; G. goddes. 5491. Both For al that yeueth here out of drede. 5493. Th. lette; G. late. 5503. Th. they; G. the. 5505. Th. yholpe; G. I hope. 5510. G. feldfare. 5512. I supply the.

5523, 42, 85, 86, 88. Supply the, his, but, more, so. 5544. Both fablyng; F. cheans. 5546. Both caste. 5555. Both in; read is. 5556. Both depe (for doþ). 5569. Th. haue you to haue; G. ha yow to ha. 5577. Both perceyueth.

5590. G. mavis; Th. mauys. 5597. G. aument. 5598. it] Both that. 5611, 38. G. not; Th. nat. 5612. G. hastly. 5617. Both berne. 5627, 43. Supply it, the. 5633. Th. wyght; G. witte. G. honerous. 5640. Th. laste; G. last. 5641. Both take. 5649. G. Pictigoras; Th. Pythagoras.

5661. G. Boice. 5668. Both rent; yeue. 5675. G. wynkith (!). 5683. G. fardeles. 5685. G. feyntith. 5686. G. disdeyntith. 5699. Both where; F. guerre. 5700. I supply more; F. plus. 5701. Both shal thogh he hath geten (!). 5713. Both Thus is thurst.

5727. G. ther; Th. her (=hir). 5734. G. Yhe. 5740. G. phicicien; read fysycien. 5741. G. fy; Th. fye (for sy); see note. 5742. G. om. it. 5749, 51. Supply ne, for. 5755. Both shewing. 5761. Supply it, wh. follows Himself in 5762. 5763. Both ofte. 5771. G. fast. 5781. Both The; F. Trois.

FRAGMENT C.

Whan Love had told hem his entente,

The baronage to councel wente;

In many sentences they fille,

And dyversly they seide hir wille:

5815

But aftir discord they accorded,

And hir accord to Love recorded.

Sir,' seiden they, 'we been at oon,

By even accord of everichoon,

Out-take Richesse al-only,

5820

That sworen hath ful hauteynly,

That she the castel nil assaile,

Ne smyte a stroke in this bataile,

With dart, ne mace, spere, ne knyf,

For man that speketh or bereth the lyf,

5825

And blameth your empryse, y-wis,

And from our hoost departed is,

(At leeste wey, as in this plyte,)

So hath she this man in dispyte;

For she seith he ne loved hir never,

5830

And therfor she wol hate him ever.

For he wol gadre no tresore,

He hath hir wrath for evermore.

He agilte hir never in other caas,

Lo, here al hoolly his trespas!

5835

She seith wel, that this other day

He asked hir leve to goon the way

That is clepid To-moche-Yeving,

And spak ful faire in his praying;

But whan he prayde hir, pore was he,

5840

Therfore she warned him the entree.

Ne yit is he not thriven so

That he hath geten a peny or two,

[230]

That quitly is his owne in hold.

Thus hath Richesse us alle told;

5845

And whan Richesse us this recorded,

Withouten hir we been accorded.

'And we finde in our accordaunce,

That False-Semblant and Abstinaunce,

With alle the folk of hir bataile,

5850

Shulle at the hinder gate assayle,

That Wikkid-Tunge hath in keping,

With his Normans, fulle of langling.

And with hem Curtesie and Largesse,

That shulle shewe hir hardinesse

5855

To the olde wyf that [kepeth] so harde

Fair-Welcoming within her warde.

Than shal Delyte and Wel-Helinge

Fonde Shame adoun to bringe;

With al hir hoost, erly and late,

5860

They shulle assailen [thilke] gate.

Agaynes Drede shal Hardinesse

Assayle, and also Sikernesse,

With al the folk of hir leding,

That never wist what was fleing.

5865

'Fraunchyse shal fighte, and eek Pitee,

With Daunger ful of crueltee.

Thus is your hoost ordeyned wel;

Doun shal the castel every del,

If everiche do his entente,

5870

So that Venus be presente,

Your modir, ful of vassalage,

That can y-nough of such usage;

Withouten hir may no wight spede

This werk, neither for word ne dede.

5875

Therfore is good ye for hir sende,

For thurgh hir may this werk amende.'

Amour. 'Lordinges, my modir, the goddesse,

That is my lady, and my maistresse,

Nis not [at] al at my willing,

5880

Ne doth not al my desyring.

Yit can she som-tyme doon labour,

Whan that hir lust, in my socour,

[Al my nedis] for to acheve,

But now I thenke hir not to greve.

5885

My modir is she, and of childhede

I bothe worshipe hir, and eek drede;

For who that dredith sire ne dame

Shal it abye in body or name.

And, natheles, yit cunne we

5890

Sende aftir hir, if nede be;

And were she nigh, she comen wolde,

I trowe that no-thing might hir holde.

'My modir is of greet prowesse;

She hath tan many a forteresse,

5895

That cost hath many a pound er this,

Ther I nas not present, y-wis;

And yit men seide it was my dede;

But I come never in that stede;

Ne me ne lykith, so mote I thee,

5900

Such toures take withoute me.

For-why me thenketh that, in no wyse,

It may ben cleped but marchandise.

'Go bye a courser, blak or whyte,

And pay therfor; than art thou quyte.

[231]

5905

The marchaunt oweth thee right nought,

Ne thou him, whan thou [hast] it bought.

I wol not selling clepe yeving,

For selling axeth no guerdoning;

Here lyth no thank, ne no meryte,

5910

That oon goth from that other al quyte.

But this selling is not semblable;

For, whan his hors is in the stable,

He may it selle ageyn, pardee,

And winne on it, such hap may be;

5915

Al may the man not lese, y-wis,

For at the leest the skin is his.

Or elles, if it so bityde

That he wol kepe his hors to ryde,

Yit is he lord ay of his hors.

5920

But thilke chaffare is wel wors,

There Venus entremeteth nought;

For who-so such chaffare hath bought,

He shal not worchen so wysly,

That he ne shal lese al outerly

5925

Bothe his money and his chaffare;

But the seller of the ware

The prys and profit have shal.

Certeyn, the byer shal lese al;

For he ne can so dere it bye

5930

To have lordship and ful maistrye,

Ne have power to make letting

Neither for yift ne for preching,

That of his chaffare, maugre his,

Another shal have as moche, y-wis,

5935

If he wol yeve as moche as he,

Of what contrey so that he be;

Or for right nought, so happe may,

If he can flater hir to hir pay.

Ben than suche marchaunts wyse?

5940

No, but fooles in every wyse,

Whan they bye such thing wilfully,

Ther-as they lese her good [fully].

But natheles, this dar I saye,

My modir is not wont to paye,

5945

For she is neither so fool ne nyce,

To entremete hir of sich vyce.

But truste wel, he shal paye al,

That repente of his bargeyn shal,

Whan Poverte put him in distresse,

5950

Al were he scoler to Richesse,

That is for me in gret yerning,

Whan she assenteth to my willing.

'But, [by] my modir seint Venus,

And by hir fader Saturnus,

5955

That hir engendrid by his lyf,

But not upon his weddid wyf!

Yit wol I more unto you swere,

To make this thing the seurere;

Now by that feith, and that leautee

5960

I owe to alle my brethren free,

Of which ther nis wight under heven

That can her fadris names neven,

So dyvers and so many ther be

That with my modir have be privee!

5965

Yit wolde I swere, for sikirnesse,

The pole of helle to my witnesse,

Now drinke I not this yeer clarree,

If that I lye, or forsworn be!

(For of the goddes the usage is,

5970

That who-so him forswereth amis,

Shal that yeer drinke no clarree).

Now have I sworn y-nough, pardee;

If I forswere me, than am I lorn,

But I wol never be forsworn.

[232]

5975

Sith Richesse hath me failed here,

She shal abye that trespas dere,

At leeste wey, but [she] hir arme

With swerd, or sparth, or gisarme.

For certes, sith she loveth not me,

5980

Fro thilke tyme that she may see

The castel and the tour to-shake,

In sory tyme she shal awake.

If I may grype a riche man,

I shal so pulle him, if I can,

5985

That he shal, in a fewe stoundes,

Lese alle his markes and his poundes.

I shal him make his pens outslinge,

But-[if] they in his gerner springe;

Our maydens shal eek plukke him so,

5990

That him shal neden fetheres mo,

And make him selle his lond to spende,

But he the bet cunne him defende.

'Pore men han maad hir lord of me;

Although they not so mighty be,

5995

That they may fede me in delyt,

I wol not have hem in despyt.

No good man hateth hem, as I gesse,

For chinche and feloun is Richesse,

That so can chase hem and dispyse,

6000

And hem defoule in sondry wyse.

They loven ful bet, so god me spede,

Than doth the riche, chinchy grede,

And been, in good feith, more stable

And trewer, and more serviable;

6005

And therfore it suffysith me

Hir goode herte, and hir leautee.

They han on me set al hir thought,

And therfore I forgete hem nought.

I wolde hem bringe in greet noblesse,

6010

If that I were god of Richesse,

As I am god of Love, sothly,

Such routhe upon hir pleynt have I.

Therfore I must his socour be,

That peyneth him to serven me;

6015

For if he deyde for love of this,

Than semeth in me no love ther is.'

'Sir,' seide they, 'sooth is, every del,

That ye reherce, and we wot wel

Thilk oth to holde is resonable;

6020

For it is good and covenable,

That ye on riche men han sworn.

For, sir, this wot we wel biforn;

If riche men doon you homage,

That is as fooles doon outrage;

6025

But ye shul not forsworen be,

Ne let therfore to drinke clarree,

Or piment maked fresh and newe.

Ladyes shulle hem such pepir brewe,

If that they falle into hir laas,

6030

That they for we mowe seyn "Allas!"

Ladyes shuln ever so curteis be,

That they shal quyte your oth al free.

Ne seketh never other vicaire,

For they shal speke with hem so faire

[233]

6035

That ye shal holde you payed ful wel,

Though ye you medle never a del.

Lat ladies worche with hir thinges,

They shal hem telle so fele tydinges,

And moeve hem eke so many requestis

6040

By flatery, that not honest is,

And therto yeve hem such thankinges,

What with kissing, and with talkinges,

That certes, if they trowed be,

Shal never leve hem loud ne fee

6045

That it nil as the moeble fare,

Of which they first delivered are.

Now may ye telle us al your wille,

And we your hestes shal fulfille.

'But Fals-Semblant dar not, for drede

6050

Of you, sir, medle him of this dede,

For he seith that ye been his fo;

He not, if ye wol worche him wo.

Wherfore we pray you alle, beausire,

That ye forgive him now your ire,

6055

And that he may dwelle, as your man,

With Abstinence, his dere lemman;

This our accord and our wil now.'

'Parfay,' seide Love, 'I graunte it yow;

I wol wel holde him for my man;

6060

Now lat him come:' and he forth ran.

Fals-Semblant,' quod Love, 'in this wyse

I take thee here to my servyse,

That thou our freendis helpe alway,

And hindre hem neithir night ne day,

6065

But do thy might hem to releve,

And eek our enemies that thou greve.

Thyn be this might, I graunt it thee,

My king of harlotes shalt thou be;

We wol that thou have such honour.

6070

Certeyn, thou art a fals traitour,

And eek a theef; sith thou were born,

A thousand tyme thou art forsworn.

But, natheles, in our hering,

To putte our folk out of douting,

6075

I bid thee teche hem, wostow how?

By somme general signe now,

In what place thou shalt founden be,

If that men had mister of thee;

And how men shal thee best espye,

6080

For thee to knowe is greet maistrye;

Tel in what place is thyn haunting.'

F. Sem. 'Sir, I have fele dyvers woning,

That I kepe not rehersed be,

So that ye wolde respyten me.

6085

For if that I telle you the sothe,

I may have harm and shame bothe.

If that my felowes wisten it,

My tales shulden me be quit;

For certeyn, they wolde hate me,

6090

If ever I knewe hir cruelte;

For they wolde over-al holde hem stille

Of trouthe that is ageyn hir wille;

Suche tales kepen they not here.

I might eftsone bye it ful dere,

6095

If I seide of hem any thing,

That ought displeseth to hir hering.

[234]

For what word that hem prikke or byteth,

In that word noon of hem delyteth,

Al were it gospel, the evangyle,

6100

That wolde reprove hem of hir gyle,

For they are cruel and hauteyn.

And this thing wot I wel, certeyn,

If I speke ought to peire hir loos,

Your court shal not so wel be cloos,

6105

That they ne shal wite it atte last.

Of good men am I nought agast,

For they wol taken on hem nothing,

Whan that they knowe al my mening;

But he that wol it on him take,

6110

He wol himself suspecious make,

That he his lyf let covertly,

In Gyle and in Ipocrisy,

That me engendred and yaf fostring.'

'They made a ful good engendring,'

6115

Quod Love, 'for who-so soothly telle,

They engendred the devel of helle!

'But nedely, how-so-ever it be,'

Quod Love, 'I wol and charge thee,

To telle anoon thy woning-places,

6120

Hering ech wight that in this place is:

And what lyf that thou livest also,

Hyde it no lenger now; wherto?

Thou most discover al thy wurching,

How thou servest, and of what thing,

6125

Though that thou shuldest for thy soth-sawe

Ben al to-beten and to-drawe;

And yit art thou not wont, pardee.

But natheles, though thou beten be,

Thou shalt not be the first, that so

6130

Hath for soth-sawe suffred wo.'

F. Sem. 'Sir, sith that it may lyken you,

Though that I shulde be slayn right now,

I shal don your comaundement,

For therto have I gret talent.'

6135

Withouten wordes mo, right than,

Fals-Semblant his sermon bigan,

And seide hem thus in audience:—

Barouns, tak hede of my sentence!

That wight that list to have knowing

6140

Of Fals-Semblant, ful of flatering,

He must in worldly folk him seke,

And, certes, in the cloistres eke;

I wone no-where but in hem tweye;

But not lyk even, sooth to seye;

6145

Shortly, I wol herberwe me

There I hope best to hulstred be;

And certeynly, sikerest hyding

Is undirneth humblest clothing.

'Religious folk ben ful covert;

6150

Seculer folk ben more appert.

But natheles, I wol not blame

Religious folk, ne hem diffame,

In what habit that ever they go:

Religioun humble, and trewe also,

6155

Wol I not blame, ne dispyse,

But I nil love it, in no wyse.

I mene of fals religious,

That stoute ben, and malicious;

That wolen in an abit go,

6160

And setten not hir herte therto.

'Religious folk ben al pitous;

Thou shalt not seen oon dispitous.

They loven no pryde, ne no stryf,

But humbly they wol lede hir lyf;

6165

With swich folk wol I never be.

And if I dwelle, I feyne me

[235]

I may wel in her abit go;

But me were lever my nekke atwo,

Than lete a purpose that I take,

6170

What covenaunt that ever I make.

I dwelle with hem that proude be,

And fulle of wyles and subtelte;

That worship of this world coveyten,

And grete nedes cunne espleyten;

6175

And goon and gadren greet pitaunces,

And purchace hem the acqueyntaunces

Of men that mighty lyf may leden;

And feyne hem pore, and hem-self feden

With gode morcels delicious,

6180

And drinken good wyn precious,

And preche us povert and distresse,

And fisshen hem-self greet richesse

With wyly nettis that they caste:

It wol come foul out at the laste.

6185

They ben fro clene religioun went;

They make the world an argument

That hath a foul conclusioun.

"I have a robe of religioun,

Than am I al religious:"

6190

This argument is al roignous;

It is not worth a croked brere;

Habit ne maketh monk ne frere,

But clene lyf and devocioun

Maketh gode men of religioun.

6195

Nathelesse, ther can noon answere,

How high that ever his heed he shere

With rasour whetted never so kene,

That Gyle in braunches cut thrittene;

Ther can no wight distincte it so,

6200

That he dar sey a word therto.

'But what herberwe that ever I take,

Or what semblant that ever I make,

I mene but gyle, and folowe that;

For right no mo than Gibbe our cat

6205

[Fro myce and rattes went his wyle],

Ne entende I [not] but to begyle;

Ne no wight may, by my clothing,

Wite with what folk is my dwelling;

Ne by my wordis yet, pardee,

6210

So softe and so plesaunt they be.

Bihold the dedis that I do;

But thou be blind, thou oughtest so;

For, varie hir wordis fro hir dede,

They thenke on gyle, withouten drede,

6215

What maner clothing that they were,

Or what estat that ever they bere,

Lered or lewd, lord or lady,

Knight, squier, burgeis, or bayly.'

Right thus whyl Fals-Semblant sermoneth,

6220

Eftsones Love him aresoneth,

And brak his tale in the speking

As though he had him told lesing;

And seide: 'What, devel, is that I here?

What folk hast thou us nempned here?

6225

May men finde religioun

In worldly habitacioun?'

[236]

F. Sem. 'Ye, sir; it foloweth not that they

Shulde lede a wikked lyf, parfey,

Ne not therfore her soules lese,

6230

That hem to worldly clothes chese;

For, certis, it were gret pitee.

Men may in seculer clothes see

Florisshen holy religioun.

Ful many a seynt in feeld and toun,

6235

With many a virgin glorious,

Devout, and ful religious,

Had deyed, that comun clothe ay beren,

Yit seyntes never-the-les they weren.

I coude reken you many a ten;

6240

Ye, wel nigh alle these holy wimmen,

That men in chirchis herie and seke,

Bothe maydens, and these wyves eke,

That baren many a fair child here,

Wered alwey clothis seculere,

6245

And in the same dyden they,

That seyntes weren, and been alwey.

The eleven thousand maydens dere,

That beren in heven hir ciergis clere,

Of which men rede in chirche, and singe,

6250

Were take in seculer clothing,

Whan they resseyved martirdom,

And wonnen heven unto her hoom.

Good herte makith the gode thought;

The clothing yeveth ne reveth nought.

6255

The gode thought and the worching,

That maketh religioun flowring,

Ther lyth the good religioun

Aftir the right entencioun.

'Who-so toke a wethers skin,

6260

And wrapped a gredy wolf therin,

For he shulde go with lambis whyte,

Wenest thou not he wolde hem byte?

Yis! never-the-las, as he were wood,

He wolde hem wery, and drinke the blood;

6265

And wel the rather hem disceyve,

For, sith they coude not perceyve

His treget and his crueltee,

They wolde him folowe, al wolde he flee.

'If ther be wolves of sich hewe

6270

Amonges these apostlis newe,

Thou, holy chirche, thou mayst be wayled!

Sith that thy citee is assayled

Thourgh knightis of thyn owne table,

God wot thy lordship is doutable!

6275

If they enforce [hem] it to winne,

That shulde defende it fro withinne,

Who might defence ayens hem make?

Withouten stroke it mot be take

Of trepeget or mangonel;

6280

Without displaying of pensel.

And if god nil don it socour,

But lat [hem] renne in this colour,

Thou moost thyn heestis laten be.

Than is ther nought, but yelde thee,

6285

Or yeve hem tribute, doutelees,

And holde it of hem to have pees:

[237]

But gretter harm bityde thee,

That they al maister of it be.

Wel conne they scorne thee withal;

6290

By day stuffen they the wal,

And al the night they mynen there.

Nay, thou most planten elleswhere

Thyn impes, if thou wolt fruyt have;

Abyd not there thy-self to save.

6295

'But now pees! here I turne ageyn;

I wol no more of this thing seyn,

If I may passen me herby;

I mighte maken you wery.

But I wol heten you alway

6300

To helpe your freendis what I may,

So they wollen my company;

For they be shent al-outerly

But-if so falle, that I be

Oft with hem, and they with me.

6305

And eek my lemman mot they serve,

Or they shul not my love deserve.

Forsothe, I am a fals traitour;

God iugged me for a theef trichour;

Forsworn I am, but wel nygh non

6310

Wot of my gyle, til it be don.

'Thourgh me hath many oon deth resseyved,

That my treget never aperceyved;

And yit resseyveth, and shal resseyve,

That my falsnesse never aperceyve:

6315

But who-so doth, if he wys be,

Him is right good be war of me.

But so sligh is the [deceyving

That to hard is the] aperceyving.

For Protheus, that coude him chaunge

6320

In every shap, hoomly and straunge,

Coude never sich gyle ne tresoun

As I; for I com never in toun

Ther-as I mighte knowen be,

Though men me bothe might here and see.

6325

Ful wel I can my clothis chaunge,

Take oon, and make another straunge.

Now am I knight, now chasteleyn;

Now prelat, and now chapeleyn;

Now prest, now clerk, and now forstere;

6330

Now am I maister, now scolere;

Now monk, now chanoun, now baily;

What-ever mister man am I.

Now am I prince, now am I page,

And can by herte every langage.

6335

Som-tyme am I hoor and old;

Now am I yong, [and] stout, and bold;

Now am I Robert, now Robyn;

Now frere Menour, now Iacobyn;

And with me folweth my loteby,

6340

To don me solas and company,

That hight dame Abstinence-Streyned,

In many a queynt array [y]-feyned.

Right as it cometh to hir lyking,

I fulfille al hir desiring.

6345

Somtyme a wommans cloth take I;

Now am I mayde, now lady.

Somtyme I am religious;

Now lyk an anker in an hous.

Somtyme am I prioresse,

6350

And now a nonne, and now abbesse;

[238]

And go thurgh alle regiouns,

Seking alle religiouns.

But to what ordre that I am sworn,

I take the strawe, and lete the corn;

6355

To [blynde] folk [ther] I enhabite,

I axe no-more but hir abite.

What wol ye more? in every wyse,

Right as me list, I me disgyse.

Wel can I bere me under weed;

6360

Unlyk is my word to my deed.

Thus make I in my trappis falle,

Thurgh my pryvileges, alle

That ben in Cristendom alyve.

I may assoile, and I may shryve,

6365

That no prelat may lette me,

Al folk, wher-ever they founde be:

I noot no prelat may don so,

But it the pope be, and no mo,

That made thilk establisshing.

6370

Now is not this a propre thing?

But, were my sleightis aperceyved,

[Ne shulde I more been receyved]

As I was wont; and wostow why?

For I dide hem a tregetry;

6375

But therof yeve I litel tale,

I have the silver and the male;

So have I preched and eek shriven,

So have I take, so have [me] yiven,

Thurgh hir foly, husbond and wyf,

6380

That I lede right a Ioly lyf,

Thurgh simplesse of the prelacye;

They know not al my tregetrye.

'But for as moche as man and wyf

Shuld shewe hir paroche-prest hir lyf

6385

Ones a yeer, as seith the book,

Er any wight his housel took,

Than have I pryvilegis large,

That may of moche thing discharge;

For he may seye right thus, pardee:—

6390

"Sir Preest, in shrift I telle it thee,

That he, to whom that I am shriven,

Hath me assoiled, and me yiven

Penaunce soothly, for my sinne,

Which that I fond me gilty inne;

6395

Ne I ne have never entencioun

To make double confessioun,

Ne reherce eft my shrift to thee;

O shrift is right y-nough to me.

This oughte thee suffyce wel,

6400

Ne be not rebel never-a-del;

For certis, though thou haddest it sworn,

I wot no prest ne prelat born

That may to shrift eft me constreyne.

And if they don, I wol me pleyne;

6405

For I wot where to pleyne wel.

Thou shall not streyne me a del,

Ne enforce me, ne [yit] me trouble,

To make my confessioun double.

Ne I have none affeccioun

6410

To have double absolucioun.

The firste is right y-nough to me;

This latter assoiling quyte I thee.

[239]

I am unbounde; what mayst thou finde

More of my sinnes me to unbinde?

6415

For he, that might hath in his hond,

Of alle my sinnes me unbond.

And if thou wolt me thus constreyne,

That me mot nedis on thee pleyne,

There shal no Iugge imperial,

6420

Ne bisshop, ne official,

Don Iugement on me; for I

Shal gon and pleyne me openly

Unto my shrift-fadir newe,

(That hight not Frere Wolf untrewe!)

6425

And he shal chevise him for me,

For I trowe he can hampre thee.

But, lord! he wolde be wrooth withalle,

If men him wolde Frere Wolf calle!

For he wolde have no pacience,

6430

But don al cruel vengeaunce!

He wolde his might don at the leest,

[Ne] no-thing spare for goddis heest.

And, god so wis be my socour,

But thou yeve me my Saviour

6435

At Ester, whan it lyketh me,

Withoute presing more on thee,

I wol forth, and to him goon,

And he shal housel me anoon,

For I am out of thy grucching;

6440

I kepe not dele with thee nothing."

Thus may he shryve him, that forsaketh

His paroche-prest, and to me taketh.

And if the prest wol him refuse,

I am ful redy him to accuse,

6445

And him punisshe and hampre so,

That he his chirche shal forgo.

'But who-so hath in his feling

The consequence of such shryving,

Shal seen that prest may never have might

6450

To knowe the conscience aright

Of him that is under his cure.

And this ageyns holy scripture,

That biddeth every herde honeste

Have verry knowing of his beste.

6455

But pore folk that goon by strete,

That have no gold, ne sommes grete,

Hem wolde I lete to her prelates,

Or lete hir prestis knowe hir states,

For to me right nought yeve they.'

Amour. 'And why is it?'

6460

F. Sem. 'For they ne may.

They ben so bare, I take no keep;

But I wol have the fatte sheep;—

Lat parish prestis have the lene,

I yeve not of hir harm a bene!

6465

And if that prelats grucchen it,

That oughten wroth be in hir wit,

To lese her fatte bestes so,

I shal yeve hem a stroke or two,

That they shal lesen with [the] force,

6470

Ye, bothe hir mytre and hir croce.

Thus Iape I hem, and have do longe,

My priveleges been so stronge.'

[240]

Fals-Semblant wolde have stinted here,

But Love ne made him no such chere

6475

That he was wery of his sawe;

But for to make him glad and fawe,

He seide:—'Tel on more specialy,

How that thou servest untrewly.

Tel forth, and shame thee never a del;

6480

For as thyn abit shewith wel,

Thou [semest] an holy heremyte.'

F. Sem. 'Soth is, but I am an ypocryte.'

Amour. 'Thou gost and prechest povertee?'

F. Sem. 'Ye, sir; but richesse hath poustee.'

6485

Amour. 'Thou prechest abstinence also?'

F. Sem. 'Sir, I wol fillen, so mote I go,

My paunche of gode mete and wyne,

As shulde a maister of divyne;

For how that I me pover feyne,

6490

Yit alle pore folk I disdeyne.

'I love bet the acqueyntaunce

Ten tymes, of the king of Fraunce,

Than of pore man of mylde mode,

Though that his soule be also gode.

6495

For whan I see beggers quaking,

Naked on mixens al stinking,

For hungre crye, and eek for care,

I entremete not of hir fare.

They been so pore, and ful of pyne,

6500

They might not ones yeve me dyne,

For they have no-thing but hir lyf;

What shulde he yeve that likketh his knyf?

It is but foly to entremete,

To seke in houndes nest fat mete.

6505

Let bere hem to the spitel anoon,

But, for me, comfort gete they noon.

But a riche sike usurere

Wolde I visyte and drawe nere;

Him wol I comforte and rehete,

6510

For I hope of his gold to gete.

And if that wikked deth him have,

I wol go with him to his grave.

And if ther any reprove me,

Why that I lete the pore be,

6515

Wostow how I [mot] ascape?

I sey, and swerë him ful rape,

That riche men han more tecches

Of sinne, than han pore wrecches,

And han of counseil more mister;

6520

And therfore I wol drawe hem ner.

But as gret hurt, it may so be,

Hath soule in right gret poverte,

As soul in gret richesse, forsothe,

Al-be-it that they hurten bothe.

6525

For richesse and mendicitees

Ben cleped two extremitees;

The mene is cleped suffisaunce,

Ther lyth of vertu the aboundaunce.

For Salamon, ful wel I woot,

6530

In his Parables us wroot,

[241]

As it is knowe of many a wight,

In his [thrittethe] chapitre right:

"God, thou me kepe, for thy poustee,

Fro richesse and mendicitee;

6535

For if a riche man him dresse

To thenke to moche on [his] richesse,

His herte on that so fer is set,

That he his creatour foryet;

And him, that [begging] wol ay greve,

6540

How shulde I by his word him leve?

Unnethe that he nis a micher,

Forsworn, or elles [god is] lyer."

Thus seith Salamones sawes;

Ne we finde writen in no lawes,

6545

And namely in our Cristen lay—

(Who seith "ye," I dar sey "nay")—

That Crist, ne his apostlis dere,

Whyl that they walkede in erthe here,

Were never seen her bred begging,

6550

For they nolde beggen for nothing.

And right thus were men wont to teche;

And in this wyse wolde it preche

The maistres of divinitee

Somtyme in Paris the citee.

6555

'And if men wolde ther-geyn appose

The naked text, and lete the glose,

It mighte sone assoiled be;

For men may wel the sothe see,

That, parde, they mighte axe a thing

6560

Pleynly forth, without begging.

For they weren goddis herdis dere,

And cure of soules hadden here,

They nolde no-thing begge hir fode;

For aftir Crist was don on rode,

6565

With [hir] propre hondis they wrought,

And with travel, and elles nought,

They wonnen al hir sustenaunce,

And liveden forth in hir penaunce,

And the remenaunt [yeve] awey

6570

To other pore folk alwey.

They neither bilden tour ne halle,

But [leye] in houses smale withalle.

A mighty man, that can and may,

Shulde with his honde and body alway

6575

Winne him his food in laboring,

If he ne have rent or sich a thing,

Although he be religious,

And god to serven curious.

Thus mote he don, or do trespas,

6580

But-if it be in certeyn cas,

That I can reherce, if mister be,

Right wel, whan the tyme I see.

'Seke the book of Seynt Austin,

Be it in paper or perchemin,

6585

There-as he writ of these worchinges,

Thou shalt seen that non excusinges

A parfit man ne shulde seke

By wordis, ne by dedis eke,

Although he be religious,

6590

And god to serven curious,

That he ne shal, so mote I go,

With propre hondis and body also,

[242]

Gete his food in laboring,

If he ne have propretee of thing.

6595

Yit shulde he selle al his substaunce,

And with his swink have sustenaunce,

If he be parfit in bountee.

Thus han tho bookes tolde me:

For he that wol gon ydilly,

6600

And useth it ay besily

To haunten other mennes table,

He is a trechour, ful of fable;

Ne he ne may, by gode resoun,

Excuse him by his orisoun.

6605

For men bihoveth, in som gyse,

Som-tyme [leven] goddes servyse

To gon and purchasen her nede.

Men mote eten, that is no drede,

And slepe, and eek do other thing;

6610

So longe may they leve praying.

So may they eek hir prayer blinne,

While that they werke, hir mete to winne.

Seynt Austin wol therto accorde,

In thilke book that I recorde.

6615

Justinian eek, that made lawes,

Hath thus forboden, by olde dawes,

"No man, up peyne to be deed,

Mighty of body, to begge his breed,

If he may swinke, it for to gete;

6620

Men shulde him rather mayme or bete,

Or doon of him apert Iustice,

Than suffren him in such malice."

They don not wel, so mote I go,

That taken such almesse so,

6625

But if they have som privelege,

That of the peyne hem wol allege.

But how that is, can I not see,

But-if the prince disseyved be;

Ne I ne wene not, sikerly,

6630

That they may have it rightfully.

But I wol not determyne

Of princes power, ne defyne,

Ne by my word comprende, y-wis,

If it so fer may strecche in this.

6635

I wol not entremete a del;

But I trowe that the book seith wel,

Who that taketh almesses, that be

Dewe to folk that men may see

Lame, feble, wery, and bare,

6640

Pore, or in such maner care,

(That conne winne hem nevermo,

For they have no power therto),

He eteth his owne dampning,

But-if he lye, that made al thing.

6645

And if ye such a truaunt finde,

Chastise him wel, if ye be kinde.

But they wolde hate you, percas,

And, if ye fillen in hir laas,

They wolde eftsones do you scathe,

6650

If that they mighte, late or rathe;

For they be not ful pacient,

That han the world thus foule blent.

And witeth wel, [wher] that god bad

The good man selle al that he had,

6655

And folowe him, and to pore it yive,

He wolde not therfore that he live

To serven him in mendience,

For it was never his sentence;

But he bad wirken whan that nede is,

6660

And folwe him in goode dedis.

[243]

Seynt Poule, that loved al holy chirche,

He bade thapostles for to wirche,

And winnen hir lyflode in that wyse,

And hem defended truaundyse,

6665

And seide, "Wirketh with your honden;"

Thus shulde the thing be undirstonden.

He nolde, y-wis, bidde hem begging,

Ne sellen gospel, ne preching,

Lest they berafte, with hir asking,

6670

Folk of hir catel or of hir thing.

For in this world is many a man

That yeveth his good, for he ne can

Werne it for shame, or elles he

Wolde of the asker delivered be;

6675

And, for he him encombreth so,

He yeveth him good to late him go:

But it can him no-thing profyte,

They lese the yift and the meryte.

The goode folk, that Poule to preched,

6680

Profred him ofte, whan he hem teched,

Som of hir good in charite;

But therof right no-thing took he;

But of his hondwerk wolde he gete

Clothes to wryen him, and his mete."

6685

Amour. 'Tel me than how a man may liven,

That al his good to pore hath yiven,

And wol but only bidde his bedis,

And never with honde laboure his nedis:

May he do so?'

F. Sem. 'Ye, sir.'

Amour. 'And how?'

6690

F. Sem. 'Sir, I wol gladly telle yow:—

Seynt Austin seith, a man may be

In houses that han propretee,

As templers and hospitelers,

And as these chanouns regulers,

6695

Or whyte monkes, or these blake—

(I wole no mo ensamplis make)—

And take therof his sustening,

For therinne lyth no begging;

But other-weyes not, y-wis,

6700

[If] Austin gabbeth not of this.

And yit ful many a monk laboureth,

That god in holy chirche honoureth;

For whan hir swinking is agoon,

They rede and singe in chirche anoon.

6705

'And for ther hath ben greet discord,

As many a wight may bere record,

Upon the estate of mendience,

I wol shortly, in your presence,

Telle how a man may begge at nede,

6710

That hath not wherwith him to fede,

Maugre his felones Iangelinges,

For sothfastnesse wol non hidinges;

And yit, percas, I may abey,

That I to yow sothly thus sey.

6715

'Lo, here the caas especial:

If a man be so bestial

That he of no craft hath science,

And nought desyreth ignorence,

Than may he go a-begging yerne,

6720

Til he som maner craft can lerne,

[244]

Thurgh which, withoute truaunding,

He may in trouthe have his living.

Or if he may don no labour,

For elde, or syknesse, or langour,

6725

Or for his tendre age also,

Than may he yit a-begging go.

'Or if he have, peraventure,

Thurgh usage of his noriture,

Lived over deliciously,

6730

Than oughten good folk comunly

Han of his mischeef som pitee,

And suffren him also, that he

May gon aboute and begge his breed,

That he be not for hungur deed.

6735

Or if he have of craft cunning,

And strengthe also, and desiring

To wirken, as he hadde what,

But he finde neither this ne that,

Than may he begge, til that he

6740

Have geten his necessitee.

'Or if his winning be so lyte,

That his labour wol not acquyte

Sufficiantly al his living,

Yit may he go his breed begging;

6745

Fro dore to dore he may go trace,

Til he the remenaunt may purchace.

Or if a man wolde undirtake

Any empryse for to make,

In the rescous of our lay,

6750

And it defenden as he may,

Be it with armes or lettrure,

Or other covenable cure,

If it be so he pore be,

Than may he begge, til that he

6755

May finde in trouthe for to swinke,

And gete him clothes, mete, and drinke.

Swinke he with hondis corporel,

And not with hondis espirituel.

'In al thise caas, and in semblables,

6760

If that ther ben mo resonables,

He may begge, as I telle you here,

And elles nought, in no manere;

As William Seynt Amour wolde preche,

And ofte wolde dispute and teche

6765

Of this matere alle openly

At Paris ful solempnely.

And al-so god my soule blesse,

As he had, in this stedfastnesse,

The accord of the universitee,

6770

And of the puple, as semeth me.

'No good man oughte it to refuse,

Ne oughte him therof to excuse,

Be wrooth or blythe who-so be;

For I wol speke, and telle it thee,

6775

Al shulde I dye, and be put doun,

As was seynt Poul, in derk prisoun;

Or be exiled in this caas

With wrong, as maister William was,

That my moder Ypocrisye

6780

Banisshed for hir greet envye.

'My moder flemed him, Seynt Amour:

This noble dide such labour

To susteyne ever the loyaltee,

That he to moche agilte me.

6785

He made a book, and leet it wryte,

Wherin his lyf he dide al wryte,

And wolde ich reneyed begging,

And lived by my traveyling,

[245]

If I ne had rent ne other good.

6790

What? wened he that I were wood?

For labour might me never plese,

I have more wil to been at ese;

And have wel lever, sooth to sey,

Bifore the puple patre and prey,

6795

And wrye me in my foxerye

Under a cope of papelardye.'

Quod Love, 'What devel is this I here?

What wordis tellest thou me here?'

F. Sem. 'What, sir?'

Amour. 'Falsnesse, that apert is;

Than dredist thou not god?'

6800

F. Sem. 'No, certis:

For selde in greet thing shal he spede

In this world, that god wol drede.

For folk that hem to vertu yiven,

And truly on her owne liven,

6805

And hem in goodnesse ay contene,

On hem is litel thrift y-sene;

Such folk drinken gret misese;

That lyf [ne] may me never plese.

But see what gold han usurers,

6810

And silver eek in [hir] garners,

Taylagiers, and these monyours,

Bailifs, bedels, provost, countours;

These liven wel nygh by ravyne;

The smale puple hem mote enclyne,

6815

And they as wolves wol hem eten.

Upon the pore folk they geten

Ful moche of that they spende or kepe;

Nis none of hem that he nil strepe,

And wryen him-self wel atte fulle;

6820

Withoute scalding they hem pulle.

The stronge the feble overgoth;

But I, that were my simple cloth,

Robbe bothe robbed and robbours,

And gyle gyled and gylours.

6825

By my treget, I gadre and threste

The greet tresour into my cheste,

That lyth with me so faste bounde.

Myn highe paleys do I founde,

And my delytes I fulfille

6830

With wyne at feestes at my wille,

And tables fulle of entremees;

I wol no lyf, but ese and pees,

And winne gold to spende also.

For whan the grete bagge is go,

6835

It cometh right with my Iapes.

Make I not wel tumble myn apes?

To winne is alwey myn entent;

My purchas is better than my rent;

For though I shulde beten be,

6840

Over-al I entremete me;

Withoute me may no wight dure.

I walke soules for to cure.

Of al the worlde cure have I

In brede and lengthe; boldely

6845

I wol bothe preche and eek counceilen;

With hondis wille I not traveilen,

For of the pope I have the bulle;

I ne holde not my wittes dulle.

I wol not stinten, in my lyve,

6850

These emperouris for to shryve,

Or kyngis, dukis, and lordis grete;

But pore folk al quyte I lete.

I love no such shryving, pardee,

But it for other cause be.

[246]

6855

I rekke not of pore men,

Hir astate is not worth an hen.

Where fyndest thou a swinker of labour

Have me unto his confessour?

But emperesses, and duchesses,

6860

Thise quenes, and eek [thise] countesses,

Thise abbesses, and eek Bigyns,

These grete ladyes palasyns,

These Ioly knightes, and baillyves,

Thise nonnes, and thise burgeis wyves,

6865

That riche been, and eek plesing,

And thise maidens welfaring,

Wher-so they clad or naked be,

Uncounceiled goth ther noon fro me.

And, for her soules savetee,

6870

At lord and lady, and hir meynee,

I axe, whan they hem to me shryve,

The propretee of al hir lyve,

And make hem trowe, bothe meest and leest,

Hir paroch-prest nis but a beest

6875

Ayens me and my company,

That shrewis been as greet as I;

For whiche I wol not hyde in hold

No privetee that me is told,

That I by word or signe, y-wis,

6880

[Nil] make hem knowe what it is,

And they wolen also tellen me;

They hele fro me no privitee.

And for to make yow hem perceyven,

That usen folk thus to disceyven,

6885

I wol you seyn, withouten drede,

What men may in the gospel rede

Of Seynt Mathew, the gospelere,

That seith, as I shal you sey here.

'Upon the chaire of Moyses—

6890

Thus is it glosed, douteles:

That is the olde testament,

For therby is the chaire ment—

Sitte Scribes and Pharisen;—

That is to seyn, the cursid men

6895

Whiche that we ypocritis calle—

Doth that they preche, I rede you alle,

But doth not as they don a del,

That been not wery to seye wel,

But to do wel, no wille have they;

6900

And they wolde binde on folk alwey,

That ben to [be] begyled able,

Burdens that ben importable;

On folkes shuldres thinges they couchen

That they nil with her fingres touchen.'

Amour. 'And why wol they not touche it?'

6905

F. Sem. 'Why?

For hem ne list not, sikirly;

For sadde burdens that men taken

Make folkes shuldres aken.

And if they do ought that good be,

6910

That is for folk it shulde see:

Her burdens larger maken they,

And make hir hemmes wyde alwey,

And loven setes at the table,

The firste and most honourable;

6915

And for to han the first chaieris

In synagoges, to hem ful dere is;

And willen that folk hem loute and grete,

Whan that they passen thurgh the strete,

[247]

And wolen be cleped "Maister" also.

6920

But they ne shulde not willen so;

The gospel is ther-ageyns, I gesse:

That sheweth wel hir wikkidnesse.

'Another custom use we:—

Of hem that wol ayens us be,

6925

We hate hem deedly everichoon,

And we wol werrey hem, as oon.

Him that oon hatith, hate we alle,

And coniecte how to doon him falle.

And if we seen him winne honour,

6930

Richesse or preys, thurgh his valour,

Provende, rent, or dignitee,

Ful fast, y-wis, compassen we

By what ladder he is clomben so;

And for to maken him doun to go,

6935

With traisoun we wole him defame,

And doon him lese his gode name.

Thus from his ladder we him take,

And thus his freendis foes we make;

But word ne wite shal he noon,

6940

Til alle his freendis been his foon.

For if we dide it openly,

We might have blame redily;

For hadde he wist of our malyce,

He hadde him kept, but he were nyce.

6945

'Another is this, that, if so falle

That ther be oon among us alle

That doth a good turn, out of drede,

We seyn it is our alder dede.

Ye, sikerly, though he it feyned,

6950

Or that him list, or that him deyned

A man thurgh him avaunced be;

Therof alle parceners be we,

And tellen folk, wher-so we go,

That man thurgh us is sprongen so.

6955

And for to have of men preysing,

We purchace, thurgh our flatering,

Of riche men, of gret poustee,

Lettres, to witnesse our bountee;

So that man weneth, that may us see,

6960

That alle vertu in us be.

And alwey pore we us feyne;

But how so that we begge or pleyne,

We ben the folk, without lesing,

That al thing have without having.

6965

Thus be we dred of the puple, y-wis.

And gladly my purpos is this:—

I dele with no wight, but he

Have gold and tresour gret plentee;

Hir acqueyntaunce wel love I;

6970

This is moche my desyr, shortly.

I entremete me of brocages,

I make pees and mariages,

I am gladly executour,

And many tymes procuratour;

6975

I am somtyme messager;

That falleth not to my mister.

And many tymes I make enquestes;

For me that office not honest is;

To dele with other mennes thing,

6980

That is to me a gret lyking.

And if that ye have ought to do

In place that I repeire to,

I shal it speden thurgh my wit,

As sone as ye have told me it.

6985

So that ye serve me to pay,

My servyse shal be your alway.

But who-so wol chastyse me,

Anoon my love lost hath he;

For I love no man in no gyse,

6990

That wol me repreve or chastyse;

[248]

But I wolde al folk undirtake,

And of no wight no teching take;

For I, that other folk chastye,

Wol not be taught fro my folye.

6995

'I love noon hermitage more;

Alle desertes, and holtes hore,

And grete wodes everichoon,

I lete hem to the Baptist Iohan.

I quethe him quyte, and him relesse

7000

Of Egipt al the wildirnesse;

To fer were alle my mansiouns

Fro alle citees and goode tounes.

My paleis and myn hous make I

There men may renne in openly,

7005

And sey that I the world forsake.

But al amidde I bilde and make

My hous, and swimme and pley therinne

Bet than a fish doth with his finne.

'Of Antecristes men am I,

7010

Of whiche that Crist seith openly,

They have abit of holinesse,

And liven in such wikkednesse.

Outward, lambren semen we,

Fulle of goodnesse and of pitee,

7015

And inward we, withouten fable,

Ben gredy wolves ravisable.

We enviroune bothe londe and see;

With al the world werreyen we;

We wol ordeyne of alle thing,

7020

Of folkes good, and her living.

'If ther be castel or citee

Wherin that any bougerons be,

Although that they of Milayne were,

For ther-of ben they blamed there:

7025

Or if a wight, out of mesure,

Wolde lene his gold, and take usure,

For that he is so coveitous:

Or if he be to leccherous,

Or [thefe, or] haunte simonye;

7030

Or provost, ful of trecherye,

Or prelat, living Iolily,

Or prest that halt his quene him by;

Or olde hores hostilers,

Or other bawdes or bordillers,

7035

Or elles blamed of any vyce,

Of whiche men shulden doon Iustyce:

By alle the seyntes that we pray,

But they defende hem with lamprey,

With luce, with elis, with samons,

7040

With tendre gees, and with capons,

With tartes, or with cheses fat,

With deynte flawnes, brode and flat,

With caleweys, or with pullaille,

With coninges, or with fyn vitaille,

7045

That we, undir our clothes wyde,

Maken thurgh our golet glyde:

Or but he wol do come in haste

Roo-venisoun, [y]-bake in paste:

Whether so that he loure or groine,

7050

He shal have of a corde a loigne,

With whiche men shal him binde and lede,

To brenne him for his sinful dede,

That men shulle here him crye and rore

A myle-wey aboute, and more.

[249]

7055

Or elles he shal in prisoun dye,

But-if he wol [our] frendship bye,

Or smerten that that he hath do,

More than his gilt amounteth to.

But, and he couthe thurgh his sleight

7060

Do maken up a tour of height,

Nought roughte I whether of stone or tree,

Or erthe, or turves though it be,

Though it were of no vounde stone,

Wrought with squyre and scantilone,

7065

So that the tour were stuffed wel

With alle richesse temporel;

And thanne, that he wolde updresse

Engyns, bothe more and lesse,

To caste at us, by every syde—

7070

To bere his goode name wyde—

Such sleightes [as] I shal yow nevene,

Barelles of wyne, by sixe or sevene,

Or gold in sakkes gret plente,

He shulde sone delivered be.

7075

And if he have noon sich pitaunces,

Late him study in equipolences,

And lete lyes and fallaces,

If that he wolde deserve our graces;

Or we shal bere him such witnesse

7080

Of sinne, and of his wrecchidnesse,

And doon his loos so wyde renne,

That al quik we shulde him brenne,

Or elles yeve him suche penaunce,

That is wel wors than the pitaunce.

7085

'For thou shalt never, for nothing,

Con knowen aright by her clothing

The traitours fulle of trecherye,

But thou her werkis can aspye.

And ne hadde the good keping be

7090

Whylom of the universitee,

That kepeth the key of Cristendome,

[They] had been turmented, alle and some.

Suche been the stinking [fals] prophetis;

Nis non of hem, that good prophete is;

7095

For they, thurgh wikked entencioun,

The yeer of the incarnacioun

A thousand and two hundred yeer,

Fyve and fifty, ferther ne ner,

Broughten a book, with sory grace,

7100

To yeven ensample in comune place,

That seide thus, though it were fable:—

"This is the Gospel Perdurable,

That fro the Holy Goost is sent."

Wel were it worth to ben [y]-brent.

7105

Entitled was in such manere

This book, of which I telle here.

Ther nas no wight in al Parys,

Biforn Our Lady, at parvys,

That [he] ne mighte bye the book,

7110

To copy, if him talent took.

Ther might he see, by greet tresoun,

Ful many fais comparisoun:—

[250]

"As moche as, thurgh his grete might,

Be it of hete, or of light,

7115

The sunne sourmounteth the mone,

That troubler is, and chaungeth sone,

And the note-kernel the shelle—

(I scorne nat that I yow telle)—

Right so, withouten any gyle,

7120

Sourmounteth this noble Evangyle

The word of any evangelist."

And to her title they token Christ;

And many such comparisoun,

Of which I make no mencioun,

7125

Might men in that boke finde,

Who-so coude of hem have minde.

'The universitee, that tho was aslepe,

Gan for to braide, and taken kepe;

And at the noys the heed up-caste,

7130

Ne never sithen slepte it faste,

But up it sterte, and armes took

Ayens this fals horrible book,

Al redy bateil for to make,

And to the Iuge the book to take.

7135

But they that broughten the book there

Hente it anoon awey, for fere;

They nolde shewe it more a del,

But thenne it kepte, and kepen wil,

Til such a tyme that they may see

7140

That they so stronge woxen be,

That no wight may hem wel withstonde;

For by that book they durst not stonde.

Away they gonne it for to bere,

For they ne durste not answere

7145

By exposicioun ne glose

To that that clerkis wole appose

Ayens the cursednesse, y-wis,

That in that boke writen is.

Now wot I not, ne I can not see

7150

What maner ende that there shal be

Of al this [boke] that they hyde;

But yit algate they shal abyde

Til that they may it bet defende;

This trowe I best, wol be hir ende.

7155

'Thus Antecrist abyden we,

For we ben alle of his meynee;

And what man that wol not be so,

Right sone he shal his lyf forgo.

We wol a puple on him areyse,

7160

And thurgh our gyle doon him seise,

And him on sharpe speris ryve,

Or other-weyes bringe him fro lyve,

But-if that he wol folowe, y-wis,

That in our boke writen is.

7165

Thus moche wol our book signifye,

That whyl [that] Peter hath maistrye,

May never lohan shewe wel his might.

'Now have I you declared right

The mening of the bark and rinde

7170

That makith the entenciouns blinde.

But now at erst I wol biginne

To expowne you the pith withinne:—

[251]

[And first, by Peter, as I wene,

The Pope himself we wolden mene]

7175

And [eek] the seculers comprehende,

That Cristes lawe wol defende,

And shulde it kepen and mayntenen

Ayeines hem that al sustenen,

And falsly to the puple techen.

7180

[And] Iohan bitokeneth hem [that] prechen,

That ther nis lawe covenable

But thilke Gospel Perdurable,

That fro the Holy Gost was sent

To turne folk that been miswent.

7185

The strengthe of Iohan they undirstonde

The grace in which, they seye, they stonde,

That doth the sinful folk converte,

And hem to Iesus Crist reverte.

'Ful many another horriblete

7190

May men in that boke see,

That ben comaunded, douteles,

Ayens the lawe of Rome expres;

And alle with Antecrist they holden,

As men may in the book biholden.

7195

And than comaunden they to sleen

Alle tho that with Peter been;

But they shal nevere have that might,

And, god toforn, for stryf to fight,

That they ne shal y-nough [men] finde

7200

That Peters lawe shal have in minde,

And ever holde, and so mayntene,

That at the last it shal be sene

That they shal alle come therto,

For ought that they can speke or do.

7205

And thilke lawe shal not stonde,

That they by Iohan have undirstonde;

But, maugre hem, it shal adoun,

And been brought to confusioun.

But I wol stinte of this matere,

7210

For it is wonder long to here;

But hadde that ilke book endured,

Of better estate I were ensured;

And freendis have I yit, pardee,

That han me set in greet degree.

7215

'Of all this world is emperour

Gyle my fader, the trechour,

And emperesse my moder is,

Maugre the Holy Gost, y-wis.

Our mighty linage and our route

7220

Regneth in every regne aboute;

And wel is worth we [maistres] be,

For al this world governe we,

And can the folk so wel disceyve,

That noon our gyle can perceyve;

7225

And though they doon, they dar not saye;

The sothe dar no wight biwreye.

But he in Cristis wrath him ledeth,

That more than Crist my bretheren dredeth.

He nis no ful good champioun,

7230

That dredith such similacioun;

Nor that for peyne wole refusen

Us to correcten and accusen.

He wol not entremete by right,

Ne have god in his eye-sight,

[252]

7235

And therfore god shal him punyce;

But me ne rekketh of no vyce,

Sithen men us loven comunably,

And holden us for so worthy,

That we may folk repreve echoon,

7240

And we nil have repref of noon.

Whom shulden folk worshipen so

But us, that stinten never mo

To patren whyl that folk us see,

Though it not so bihinde hem be?

7245

'And where is more wood folye,

Than to enhaunce chivalrye,

And love noble men and gay,

That Ioly clothis weren alway?

If they be sich folk as they semen,

7250

So clene, as men her clothis demen,

And that her wordis folowe her dede,

It is gret pite, out of drede,

For they wol be noon ypocritis!

Of hem, me thinketh [it] gret spiteis;

7255

I can not love hem on no syde.

But Beggers with these hodes wyde,

With sleighe and pale faces lene,

And greye clothis not ful clene,

But fretted ful of tatarwagges,

7260

And highe shoes, knopped with dagges,

That frouncen lyke a quaile-pype,

Or botes riveling as a gype;

To such folk as I you devyse

Shuld princes and these lordes wyse

7265

Take alle her londes and her thinges,

Bothe werre and pees, in governinges;

To such folk shulde a prince him yive,

That wolde his lyf in honour live.

And if they be not as they seme,

7270

That serven thus the world to queme,

There wolde I dwelle, to disceyve

The folk, for they shal not perceyve.

'But I ne speke in no such wyse,

That men shulde humble abit dispyse,

7275

So that no pryde ther-under be.

No man shulde hate, as thinketh me,

The pore man in sich clothing.

But god ne preiseth him no-thing,

That seith he hath the world forsake,

7280

And hath to worldly glorie him take,

And wol of siche delyces use;

Who may that Begger wel excuse?

That papelard, that him yeldeth so,

And wol to worldly ese go,

7285

And seith that he the world hath left,

And gredily it grypeth eft,

He is the hound, shame is to seyn,

That to his casting goth ageyn.

'But unto you dar I not lye:

7290

But mighte I felen or aspye,

That ye perceyved it no-thing,

Ye shulden have a stark lesing

Right in your hond thus, to biginne,

I nolde it lette for no sinne.'

7295

The god lough at the wonder tho,

And every wight gan laughe also,

And seide:—'Lo here a man aright

For to be trusty to every wight!'

'Fals Semblant,' quod Love, 'sey to me,

7300

Sith I thus have avaunced thee,

[253]

That in my court is thy dwelling,

And of ribaudes shall be my king,

Wolt thou wel holden my forwardis?'

F. Sem. 'Ye, sir, from hennes forewardis;

7305

Hadde never your fader herebiforn

Servaunt so trewe, sith he was born.'

Amour. 'That is ayeines al nature.'

F. Sem. 'Sir, put you in that aventure;

For though ye borowes take of me,

7310

The sikerer shal ye never be

For ostages, ne sikirnesse,

Or chartres, for to bere witnesse.

I take your-self to record here,

That men ne may, in no manere,

7315

Teren the wolf out of his hyde,

Til he be [flayn], bak and syde,

Though men him bete and al defyle;

What? wene ye that I wole bigyle?

For I am clothed mekely,

7320

Ther-under is al my trechery;

Myn herte chaungeth never the mo

For noon abit, in which I go.

Though I have chere of simplenesse,

I am not weary of shrewednesse.

7325

My lemman, Streyned-Abstinence,

Hath mister of my purveaunce;

She hadde ful longe ago be deed,

Nere my councel and my reed;

Lete hir allone, and you and me.'

7330

And Love answerde, 'I truste thee

Withoute borowe, for I wol noon.'

And Fals-Semblant, the theef, anoon,

Right in that ilke same place,

That hadde of tresoun al his face

7335

Right blak withinne, and whyt withoute,

Thanketh him, gan on his knees loute.

Than was ther nought, but 'Every man

Now to assaut, that sailen can,'

Quod Love, 'and that ful hardily.'

7340

Than armed they hem communly

Of sich armour as to hem fel.

Whan they were armed, fers and fel,

They wente hem forth, alle in a route,

And set the castel al aboute;

7345

They wil nought away, for no drede,

Til it so be that they ben dede,

Or til they have the castel take.

And foure batels they gan make,

And parted hem in foure anoon,

7350

And toke her way, and forth they goon,

The foure gates for to assaile,

Of whiche the kepers wol not faile;

For they ben neither syke ne dede,

But hardy folk, and stronge in dede.

7355

Now wole I seyn the countenaunce

Of Fals-Semblant, and Abstinaunce,

That ben to Wikkid-Tonge went.

But first they helde her parlement,

Whether it to done were

7360

To maken hem be knowen there,

Or elles walken forth disgysed.

But at the laste they devysed,

[254]

That they wold goon in tapinage,

As it were in a pilgrimage,

7365

Lyk good and holy folk unfeyned.

And Dame Abstinence-Streyned

Took on a robe of camelyne,

And gan hir graithe as a Begyne.

A large coverchief of threde

7370

She wrapped al aboute hir hede,

But she forgat not hir sautere;

A peire of bedis eek she here

Upon a lace, al of whyt threde,

On which that she hir bedes bede;

7375

But she ne boughte hem never a del,

For they were geven her, I wot wel,

God wot, of a ful holy frere,

That seide he was hir fader dere,

To whom she hadde ofter went

7380

Than any frere of his covent.

And he visyted hir also,

And many a sermoun seide hir to;

He nolde lette, for man on lyve,

That he ne wolde hir ofte shryve.

7385

And with so gret devocion

They maden her confession,

That they had ofte, for the nones,

Two hedes in one hood at ones.

Of fair shape I devyse her thee,

7390

But pale of face somtyme was she;

That false traitouresse untrewe

Was lyk that salowe hors of hewe,

That in the Apocalips is shewed,

That signifyeth tho folk beshrewed,

7395

That been al ful of trecherye,

And pale, thurgh hypocrisye;

For on that hors no colour is,

But only deed and pale, y-wis.

Of suche a colour enlangoured

7400

Was Abstinence, y-wis, coloured;

Of her estat she her repented,

As her visage represented.

She had a burdoun al of Thefte,

That Gyle had yeve her of his yefte;

7405

And a scrippe of Fainte Distresse,

That ful was of elengenesse,

And forth she walked sobrely:

And False-Semblant saynt, ie vous die,

[Had], as it were for such mistere,

7410

Don on the cope of a frere,

With chere simple, and ful pitous;

His looking was not disdeinous,

Ne proud, but meke and ful pesible.

About his nekke he bar a bible,

7415

And squierly forth gan he gon;

And, for to reste his limmes upon,

He had of Treson a potente;

As he were feble, his way he wente.

But in his sleve he gan to thringe

7420

A rasour sharp, and wel bytinge,

That was forged in a forge,

Which that men clepen Coupegorge.

So longe forth hir way they nomen,

Til they to Wicked-Tonge comen,

7425

That at his gate was sitting,

And saw folk in the way passing.

The pilgrimes saw he faste by,

That beren hem ful mekely,

And humblely they with him mette.

7430

Dame Abstinence first him grette,

And sith him False-Semblant salued,

And he hem; but he not remued,

For he ne dredde hem not a-del.

For when he saw hir faces wel,

[255]

7435

Alway in herte him thoughte so,

He shulde knowe hem bothe two;

For wel he knew Dame Abstinaunce

But he ne knew not Constreynaunce.

He knew nat that she was constrayned,

7440

Ne of her theves lyfe feyned,

But wende she com of wil al free;

But she com in another degree;

And if of good wil she began,

That wil was failed her [as] than.

7445

And Fals-Semblant had he seyn als,

But he knew nat that he was fals.

Yet fals was he, but his falsnesse

Ne coude he not espye, nor gesse;

For semblant was so slye wrought,

7450

That falsnesse he ne espyed nought.

But haddest thou knowen him beforn,

Thou woldest on a boke have sworn,

Whan thou him saugh in thilke aray

That he, that whylom was so gay,

7455

And of the daunce Ioly Robin,

Was tho become a Iacobin.

But sothely, what so men him calle,

Freres Prechours been good men alle;

Hir order wickedly they beren,

7460

Suche minstrelles if [that] they weren.

So been Augustins and Cordileres,

And Carmes, and eek Sakked Freres,

And alle freres, shodde and bare,

(Though some of hem ben grete and square)

7465

Ful holy men, as I hem deme;

Everich of hem wolde good man seme.

But shalt thou never of apparence

Seen conclude good consequence

In none argument, y-wis,

7470

If existence al failed is.

For men may finde alway sophyme

The consequence to envenyme,

Who-so that hath the subteltee

The double sentence for to see.

7475

Whan the pilgrymes commen were

To Wicked-Tonge, that dwelled there,

Hir harneis nigh hem was algate;

By Wicked-Tonge adoun they sate,

That bad hem ner him for to come,

7480

And of tydinges telle him some,

And sayde hem:—'What cas maketh yow

To come into this place now?'

Sir,' seyde Strained-Abstinaunce,

We, for to drye our penaunce,

7485

With hertes pitous and devoute,

Are commen, as pilgrimes gon aboute;

Wel nigh on fote alway we go;

Ful dusty been our heles two;

And thus bothe we ben sent

7490

Thurghout this world that is miswent,

To yeve ensample, and preche also.

To fisshen sinful men we go,

For other fisshing ne fisshe we.

And, sir, for that charitee,

7495

As we be wont, herberwe we crave,

Your lyf to amende; Crist it save!

And, so it shulde you nat displese,

We wolden, if it were your ese,

[256]

A short sermoun unto you seyn.'

7500

And Wikked-Tonge answerde ageyn,

The hous,' quod he, 'such as ye see,

Shal nat be warned you for me,

Sey what you list, and I wol here.'

Graunt mercy, swete sire dere!'

7505

Quod alderfirst Dame Abstinence,

And thus began she hir sentence:

Const. Abstinence. 'Sir, the first vertue, certeyn,

The gretest, and most sovereyn

That may be founde in any man,

7510

For having, or for wit he can,

That is, his tonge to refreyne;

Therto ought every wight him peyne.

For it is better stille be

Than for to speken harm, pardee!

7515

And he that herkeneth it gladly,

He is no good man, sikerly.

And, sir, aboven al other sinne,

In that art thou most gilty inne.

Thou spake a Iape not long ago,

7520

(And, sir, that was right yvel do)

Of a yong man that here repaired,

And never yet this place apaired.

Thou seydest he awaited nothing

But to disceyve Fair-Welcoming.

7525

Ye seyde nothing sooth of that;

But, sir, ye lye; I tell you plat;

He ne cometh no more, ne goth, pardee!

I trow ye shal him never see.

Fair-Welcoming in prison is,

7530

That ofte hath pleyed with you, er this,

The fairest games that he coude,

Withoute filthe, stille or loude;

Now dar [he] nat [him]self solace.

Ye han also the man do chace,

7535

That he dar neither come ne go.

What meveth you to hate him so

But properly your wikked thought,

That many a fals lesing hath thought?

That meveth your foole eloquence,

7540

That iangleth ever in audience,

And on the folk areyseth blame,

And doth hem dishonour and shame,

For thing that may have no preving,

But lyklinesse, and contriving.

7545

For I dar seyn, that Reson demeth,

It is not al sooth thing that semeth,

And it is sinne to controve

Thing that is [for] to reprove;

This wot ye wel; and, sir, therefore

7550

Ye arn to blame [wel] the more.

And, nathelesse, he rekketh lyte;

He yeveth nat now thereof a myte;

For if he thoughte harm, parfay,

He wolde come and gon al day;

7555

He coude him-selfe nat abstene.

Now cometh he nat, and that is sene,

For he ne taketh of it no cure,

But-if it be through aventure,

And lasse than other folk, algate.

7560

And thou here watchest at the gate,

With spere in thyne arest alway;

There muse, musard, al the day.

Thou wakest night and day for thought;

Y-wis, thy traveyl is for nought.

[257]

7565

And Ielousye, withouten faile,

Shal never quyte thee thy travaile.

And scathe is, that Fair-Welcoming,

Withouten any trespassing,

Shal wrongfully in prison be,

7570

Ther wepeth and languissheth he.

And though thou never yet, y-wis,

Agiltest man no more but this,

(Take not a-greef) it were worthy

To putte thee out of this baily,

7575

And afterward in prison lye,

And fettre thee til that thou dye;

For thou shalt for this sinne dwelle

Right in the devils ers of helle,

But-if that thou repente thee.'

7580

'Ma fay, thou lyest falsly!' quod he.

What? welcome with mischaunce now!

Have I therfore herbered you

To seye me shame, and eek reprove?

With sory happe, to your bihove,

7585

Am I to-day your herbergere!

Go, herber you elleswhere than here,

That han a lyer called me!

Two tregetours art thou and he,

That in myn hous do me this shame,

7590

And for my soth-sawe ye me blame.

Is this the sermoun that ye make?

To alle the develles I me take,

Or elles, god, thou me confounde!

But er men diden this castel founde,

7595

It passeth not ten dayes or twelve,

But it was told right to my-selve,

And as they seide, right so tolde I,

He kiste the Rose privily!

Thus seide I now, and have seid yore;

7600

I not wher he dide any more.

Why shulde men sey me such a thing,

If it hadde been gabbing?

Right so seide I, and wol seye yit;

I trowe, I lyed not of it;

7605

And with my bemes I wol blowe

To alle neighboris a-rowe,

How he hath bothe comen and gon.'

Tho spak Fals-Semblant right anon,

Al is not gospel, out of doute,

7610

That men seyn in the toune aboute;

Ley no deef ere to my speking;

I swere yow, sir, it is gabbing!

I trowe ye wot wel certeynly,

That no man loveth him tenderly

7615

That seith him harm, if he wot it,

Al be he never so pore of wit.

And sooth is also sikerly,

(This knowe ye, sir, as wel as I),

That lovers gladly wol visyten

7620

The places ther hir loves habyten.

This man you loveth and eek honoureth;

This man to serve you laboureth;

And clepeth you his freend so dere,

And this man maketh you good chere,

7625

And every-wher that [he] you meteth,

He you saleweth, and he you greteth.

[258]

He preseth not so ofte, that ye

Ought of his come encombred be;

Ther presen other folk on yow

7630

Ful ofter than [that] he doth now.

And if his herte him streyned so

Unto the Rose for to go,

Ye shulde him seen so ofte nede,

That ye shulde take him with the dede.

7635

He coude his coming not forbere,

Though ye him thrilled with a spere;

It nere not thanne as it is now.

But trusteth wel, I swere it yow,

That it is clene out of his thought.

7640

Sir, certes, he ne thenketh it nought;

No more ne doth Fair-Welcoming,

That sore abyeth al this thing.

And if they were of oon assent,

Ful sone were the Rose hent;

7645

The maugre youres wolde be.

And sir, of o thing herkeneth me:—

Sith ye this man, that loveth yow,

Han seid such harm and shame now,

Witeth wel, if he gessed it,

7650

Ye may wel demen in your wit,

He nolde no-thing love you so,

Ne callen you his freend also,

But night and day he [wolde] wake,

The castel to destroye and take,

7655

If it were sooth as ye devyse;

Or som man in som maner wyse

Might it warne him everydel,

Or by him-self perceyven wel;

For sith he might not come and gon

7660

As he was whylom wont to don,

He might it sone wite and see;

But now al other-wyse [doth] he.

Than have [ye], sir, al-outerly

Deserved helle, and Iolyly

7665

The deth of helle douteles,

That thrallen folk so gilteles.'

Fals-Semblant proveth so this thing

That he can noon answering,

And seeth alwey such apparaunce,

7670

That nygh he fel in repentaunce,

And seide him:—'Sir, it may wel be.

Semblant, a good man semen ye;

And, Abstinence, ful wyse ye seme;

Of o talent you bothe I deme.

7675

What counceil wole ye to me yeven?'

F. Sem. 'Right here anoon thou shalt be shriven,

And sey thy sinne withoute more;

Of this shall thou repente sore;

For I am preest, and have poustee

7680

To shryve folk of most dignitee

That been, as wyde as world may dure.

Of al this world I have the cure,

And that had never yit persoun,

No vicarie of no maner toun.

7685

And, god wot, I have of thee

A thousand tymes more pitee

Than hath thy preest parochial,

Though he thy freend be special.

I have avauntage, in o wyse,

7690

That your prelates ben not so wyse

[259]

Ne half so lettred as am I.

I am licenced boldely

In divinitee to rede,

And to confessen, out of drede.

7695

If ye wol you now confesse,

And leve your sinnes more and lesse,

Without abood, knele doun anon,

7698

And you shal have absolucion.'

Explicit.

5814. Th. wyl; G. tille. 5820. Both sworne. 5821. G. The (for That). Both nyl not. 5827. Th. leest; G. lest. 5831. G. tresoure. 5836. G. axide.

5855. Both kepte; F. qui mestrie. 5859. G. oost. 5860. Both that ilke. 5861. G. Agayns; Th. Agaynst. 5869, 70. Both entent, present. 5871. Both vesselage. 5879. Supply at. 5883. Both As my nede is. 5886. Om. eek? 5894. G. fortresse. 5900. Both That such; om. That. Both ben take; om. ben.

5906, 53. Supply hast, by. 5920. G. thilk. 5935. G. myche. 5939. Th. marchauntes; G. marchauntz. 5942. Both folyly. 5946. Th. vyce; G. wise. 5947. G. trust; pay. 5958. Th. surere. 5959. Both beaute (!). 5960. Both That I.

5976. Both ful dere. 5977. Both leest; supply she. 5980. Th. thylke; G. thilk. 5983. Th. grype; G. grepe. 5988. I supply if. 5997, 9. Th. hem; G. hym. 6002. Read gnede. 6006. Both good; beaute (as in 5959). 6009. Th. wol; G. wole. 6025. G. shulle. Both forsworne. 6026. G. lette.

6037. G. worthe. 6401. G. hym. 6048. G. heestes. 6057. This = This is. 6063. G. away. 6064. Both hindreth. 6073. G. netheles; Th. nathelesse.

6169. Both lette. 6172. G. subtilite. 6174. Both nede; F. besoignes. 6183, 4. G. cast, last. 6187. G. om. hath. 6192. Both neithir monk; om. neithir. 6195. Th. Na-; G. Ne-. 6197. Th. rasour; G. resoun. 6205. I supply this line. 6206. Supply not. Th. begylen; G. bigilyng. 6214. Both without.

6227. G. Yhe. 6237. Th. commen; G. comyn; read comun. 6240. G. Yhe; G. om. alle. 6243. Both ful many; om. ful. 6245. G. dieden. 6247. Both xi. 6253. G. hert; both good. 6255. Both good. 6256. Both the religioun; om. the. 6259. G. took. 6263. G. Yhis; Th. Yes. 6271. G. biwailed (!). 6275, 82. Supply hem. 6278. Both Without. 6285. G. doutlees; Th. doutles.

6292. Both planten most. 6296. Both feyne; F. dire. 6314. Both ins. shal bef. never. 6316. G. warre; Th. ware. 6317, 8. Words supplied by Kaluza. 6323. Both myght. 6336. I supply and. 6341. Both and reyned (!) for streyned; see 7366. 6342. I supply y-. 6346. Both I a; om. a.

6354. G. bete; Th. beate (for lete). 6355. Both Ioly (for blynde); I supply ther. 6356. Th. habite. 6359. Th. beare; G. were. 6361. G. om. Thus and I; both in to (for in). 6372. Both omit; supplied as in Morris; F. Si n'en sut mes si receus. 6375. Both I a.; om. a. 6377. G. shreuen. 6378. Both I (for me); both yeuen. 6386. G. ony. 6388. G. mych. 6392. Both yeuen. 6393. G. ins. For bef. Penaunce. 6399. Both ought. 6407. Both not; read yit.

6425. G. cheueys; Th. chuse; F. chevir. 6426. Th. hamper. 6432. I supply Ne. 6452. Th. this is ayenst. 6453. G. heerde. 6454. G. beeste. 6460. Both it is; F. Porquoi. 6462, 7. G. fat. 6465. G. grucche; Th. grutche. 6466. Both woth (!). 6469. I supply the. 6470. G. Yhe.

6481. Both seruest; F. sembles. 6482. Both I am but an. 6484. G. Yhe. 6487. Both good. 6491. Both bettir; G. that queyntaunce. 6492. Th. tymes; G. tyme. 6493. Both of a pore. 6496. G. myxnes; Th. myxins. 6500. Both me a dyne. 6513. G. ony. 6515. Both not. 6516. Both swere. 6522. Both Hath a soule.

6531. Th. of; G. to. 6532. G. thrittene; Th. thirtene; read thrittethe. 6536. G. myche. 6539. Both beggith (-eth). 6542. Both goddis (-es). 6543. G. Salamon; Th. Salomon. 6546. G. yhe. 6550. Both nolden. 6551. G. was. 6557. Both myght. 6565. G. ther; Th. their. 6569. Both yaf. 6570. Both folkis (-es). 6572. Both they; read leye; F. Ains gisoient. 6581. Perhaps om. That.

6598. Both tolde (against grammar). 6600. G. desily (!). 6601. Th. To; G. Go. 6606. Both Ben somtyme in; see 6610. 6616. G. old; Th. olde. 6650. Both myght. 6653. I supply wher; F. la ou. 6655. Both yeue.

6667. Both haue bidde; (om. haue). 6679. Both good. 6682. Th. -of; G. -fore. 6684. Both wryne. 6688. G. omits: Th. hondis. 6699. Th. -wayes; G. -weys. 6700. If] Both Yit. 6707. Both mendiciens (-ence); see 6657.

6721. Both without. 6728. Th. noriture; G. norture. 6737. Both had. 6748. G. Ony. 6756. Both clothe; read clothes; see 6684. 6759. Both this. 6766. Both solemply. 6782. Th. This; G. The. 6784. Th. agylte; G. agilt. 6786. So Th.; G. Of thyngis that he beste myghte (in late hand).

6792. G. wille. 6797. Both this that; om. that. 6803. Both yeuen. 6806. G. sene. 6808, 10. Supply ne, hir. 6819. Both wrine. Both hem, at. 6820. Both Without. 6823, 4. Both robbyng, gilyng. 6827. G. fast. 6828. Both high. 6834. G. gret; Th. great. 6841. Both Without. 6844. Both boldly. 6850. Both emperours. 6851. G. om. and.

6860, 6901. Supply thise, be. 6862. G. gret; Th. great. 6880. Th. Ne wol; G. Wol; read Nil. 6890. Both doutles (-lees). 6902, 7, 11. Both burdons.

6925, 6. Both him; read hem. 6936. Both good. 6939. Th. wete. 6949. G. Yhe. 6952. Th. parceners; G. perseners. 6974. Both tymes a; om. a.

6997. G. gret; Th. great. 7002. Th. al; G. om. 7012. After this line, both in Th. and G., come ll. 7109-7158. 7018. G. werrien; Th. werryen. 7019. Both al. 7022. Th. bougerons; G. begger. 7029. Both these that; F. lerres ou. 7035. G. ony. 7037. we] G. me. 7038. hem] Both them. 7041. G. cheffis; Th. cheffes; F. fromages. 7047. he] G. we. 7048. Both bake.

7056. Both his; read our. 7059. G. sleght; Th. sleight. 7060. G. hight; Th. heyght. 7063. Both vounde. 7070. Both good. 7071. G. sleghtes. I supply as. 7075. G. om. he have. 7092. Th. We had ben turmented al and 7093. I supply fals. 7104. Both brent. 7109. G. has here l. 7110, followed by a blank line; Th. has That they [read he] ne might 7110. Th. To the copye, if hem talent toke; after which, Of the Euangelystes booke (spurious).

7113. G. gret; Th. great. 7119, 21. G. ony. 7123. G. many a such. 7125. Th. booke; G. book. 7127. Perhaps omit that. 7133, 37, 42. G. om. for, it, they. 7143. Th. Awaye; G. Alwey. 7144. G. durst. 7145. Both no. 7148. Th. booke; G. book. 7151. Supply boke. 7159. Both vpon. Before this line G. and Th. wrongly insert ll. 7013-7110, 7209-7304. 7164. Th. booke; G. book. 7165. G. mych. 7166. I supply that.

7173, 4. Supplied by conjecture; F. Par Pierre voil le Pape entendre. 7175, 99. I supply eek, men. 7178. G. Ayens; Th. Ayenst. 7180. And] Both That. that] Both to. 7189. G. orribilite; Th. horriblete. 7190. Th. booke; G. book. 7196. G. Petre. 7200. G. Petres. 7205. G. thilk. 7209. See note to l. 7159. 7217. Th. Empresse; G. Emperis. 7221. Both worthy; see 7104. Both mynystres. 7234. G. iye.

7236. Th. recketh; G. rekke. 7243. Both may us (om. may). 7244. G. om. hem. 7254. Th. hem; G. hym; supply it. 7255. Th. hem; G. hym. 7257. G. steight (!). 7258. Th. graye; G. grey. 7260. G. high. 7262. Th. ryuelyng; G. reuelyng. 7263. G. dyuyse. 7272. The] G. To. 7292. Both shulde.

7303. G. forwordis. 7304. G. Yhe. Th. hence; G. hens. 7307. Th. ayenst; G. ayens. 7316. Both slayn; see note. 7317. G. alto defyle. 7325. G. Myn; Th. My. G. streyneth (!). 7331. Both Without. 7336. Th. Thankyng. 7355. G. countynaunce. 7358. G. heelde. 7362. Th. laste; G. last.

7368. G. gracche; Th. gratche. G. bygynne; Th. bygyne. 7371. Th. psaltere; G. sawter. 7380. G. ony. 7385-7576. From Th.; lost in G. 7386. Th. made. 7389. Th. shappe; denysed. 7394. tho] Th. to. 7409. Had] Th. And. 7429. Th. humbly. 7432. Th. remeued.

7435. Th. thought. 7444. I supply as. 7458. Th. Frere. 7460. Supply that. 7463. Th. al. 7464. Th. greet. 7471, 72. Th. sopheme, enueneme; F. sophime, envenime. 7473. Th. hath hadde the. 7488. Th. doughty (!); F. poudreus; read dusty. 7494. Th. herborowe.

7504. Th. sir. 7513. Th. styll. 7532. Th. styl. 7533. Th. she nat herselfe. 7546. Th. sothe. 7548, 50. I supply for, wel. 7553. Th. thought harme. 7560. Th. her.

7568. Th. Without. 7577. G. begins again. 7582. Th. herbered; G. herberd. 7585. Both herbegere. 7590. Both sothe. Th. sawe; G. saugh. 7600. Both where. G. ony. 7625. I supply he. 7626. G. saloweth.

7628. Th. comynge. 7630. Supply that. 7637. G. I nerer (!). 7653. G. wole; Th. wol: read wolde. 7662. doth] F. fait; both wot. 7663. Th. we (for ye); G. om. 7666. Both giltles. 7678. Both repent. 7686. Th. tymes; G. tyme.

7693. So Th. (but with for to for to); G. To reden in diuinite. 7694. G. And longe haue red (wrongly); here G. abruptly ends. 7694-8. From Th. 7697. Th. abode. Colophon. G. Explicit, following And longe haue red (see note to 7694); Th. Finis. Here endeth the Romaunt of the Rose.

The MSS. used to form this text are: C. = MS. Ff. 5. 30 in the Camb. Univ. Library; Jo. = MS. G. 21, in St. John's College, Cambridge; Gl. = Glasgow MS. Q. 2. 25; L. = MS. Laud 740, in the Bodleian Library; Gg. = MS. Gg. 4. 27 in the Camb. Univ. Library; F. = MS. Fairfax 16, in the Bodleian Library; B = MS. Bodley 638; Sion = Sion Coll. MS. The text closely follows the first of these; and all variations from it are recorded (except sometimes i for y, and y for i).

1. C. Almihty; queene. 3. L. B. sorwe; F. Jo. sorowe; the rest insert of before sorwe. 4. C. Gloriowse. 6. C. releeue; mihti. 8. Jo. Venquist; Gg. Venquyst. Read m'hath. C. cruelle.

10. C. bee. 11. F. B. werne. 12. C. helpe. 14. C. Hauene; refute. 15. C. Loo; theeves sevene; mee. 16. C. briht. 17. C. ladi deere. 18. C. loo. 19. C. ouhten; thi; appeere. 20. C. greevous. 21. C. riht. 22. C. riht þei mihten; susteene. 23. C. wurthi. 24. C. queene. 25. C. Dowte. 26. C. merci heere. 27. C. Gl. Gg. saf; Jo. saff; L. F. saufe; B. sauf. C. thoruh; L. F. þurgh. Gl. F. B. tacorde; C. L. to accorde. 28. C. crystes; mooder deere.

29. C. maneere. 31. C. rihtful; heere. 32. C. thoruh; Jo. L. F. B. thurgh. 33. C. Euere. C. refuit; Gl. refuyt; Gg. refut; rest refute. 35. C. resceyued. 36. C. merci ladi. 37. C. shule. 39. wel is supplied from the Sion MS.; nearly all the copies give this line corruptly; see note. 40. C. riht; wole. 41. C. Fleeinge; thi. 42. C. tempeste; dreede. 43. C. Biseeching yow. 44. C. Thouh; neede.

45. C. ben. Jo. wille; C. wil. 46. C. thi. 47. C. Thin; ladi; heede. 49. C. Gloriows; mooder; neuere. 50. C. eerthe. 51. C. euere. 54. C. eerthe. 55. C. bee. 56. C. wole. 57. C. saaf; F. B. sauf; L. saufe; Jo. saffe; Gl. Gg. saf. 58. C. Bicomen; oure. 59. C. wrot. 61. C. criaunce; Gg. cryaunce; rest creaunce. 62. C. ladi briht. 63. C. Thanne.

64, 65: C. oure. 66: C. bowntee. 69: C. Thanne. 73: C. Kalendeeres enlumyned. 74: C. thi. 75: C. yow; rihte. 77: C. sithe. 78: C. seeche. 79: C. vntame; Sion, vntaame (wrongly); rest entame.] 80: C. resyne; Gl. B. resigne. 81: C. kan. 82: C. greevous. 84: C. oure.

85. C. hise lystes. 86. C. bouht. 87. C. oure. 88. C. thi; cleere. 89. C. sauh; F. B. saugh. C. flawmes. 93. C. holigost. 94. C. a fyir. 95. C. fyir; Gl. fyr. C. deufende (sic). 96. C. eternalli. 97. C. neuere; peere. 98. C. bee. 99. C. mooder deere. 100. C. noon ooþer. 101. C. oure. 102. C. wole. 103. C. yee.

107. C. tresoreere. 108. F. chees; C. ches. C. mooder. 109. C. the. 110. C. eerthe; oure; beede. 111. C. euere; thi. 112. C. neuere; neede. 113. Gg. F. B. tenquere; C. to enquere. 114. C. whi; holi; souhte. 115. C. Sion, vn-to; rest to. 116. C. wunder wrouhte. 117. C. bouhte. 118. C. Thanne needeth; wepene. 119. C. oonly. Jo. F. B. did; C. diden. C. ouhte. 120. C. Doo; merci. 123. C. wurthi.

125. C. thi; bee. 126. C. thi-. 128. C. miht. 129. C. mooder. 130. F. Fadres; B. fadrys; C. faderes; Jo. fader. 131. C. nouht. 132. Gg. F. B. is his; rest it is. C. rihful (sic). 133. C. Mooder; merci. 135. C. euere. 136. C. eche; wole; biseeche. 137. C. granteth; F. graunteth. 140. C. vicair; Gg. F. vicaire; Gl. B. Sion, vicayre.

141. C. gouernowresse; Gl. Gg. gouerneresse. 143. C. thi wil. 144. L. crowned; Gg. crounnyd; C. Jo. F. corowned. C. rial. 146. C. misbileeued. Jo. L. pryued; rest depriued. 148. C. Resceyve; ferþere. 149. C. venymous. 150. C. eerthe. 151. C. (alone) om. so. 156. C. thi (twice). 157. Gg. Al; B. C. All. C. ben. 158. C. Ladi. 159. Sion MS. fresshe; Gg. frosche (sic); the rest wrongly omit the final e. 160. C. merci; euere.

161. C. Xpc (= Gk. χρς). 163. All the MSS. insert suffred after eek, caught from the line above; see note. 167. C. wole. 171. C. rouhte. 172. C. Riht soo thi. C. lust; rest list, liste. 173. C. ladi; merci; yow. 174. C. Sithe; merci. 177. C. yow; opene. 179. C. ouht. 180. C. thi.

181. C. ladi. Gg. bryȝt; which the rest omit. C. Gg. sithe; F. B. sith. Harl. 2251 supplies bothe after thou. 183. Sion MS. alone supplies So; Jo. supplies And. MS. Harl. 2251 has un-to; rest to. 184. Gl. penytentz; C. penitentes; Jo. Penitence (for penitents). C. merci.

Pite, that I have sought so yore ago,

With herte sore, and ful of besy peyne,

That in this world was never wight so wo

With-oute dethe; and, if I shal not feyne,

My purpos was, to Pite to compleyne

Upon the crueltee and tirannye

Of Love, that for my trouthe doth me dye.

And when that I, by lengthe of certeyn yeres,

Had ever in oon a tyme sought to speke,

To Pite ran I, al bespreynt with teres,

To preyen hir on Crueltee me awreke.

But, er I might with any worde out-breke,

Or tellen any of my peynes smerte,

I fond hir deed, and buried in an herte.

Adoun I fel, when that I saugh the herse,

Deed as a stoon, whyl that the swogh me laste;

But up I roos, with colour ful diverse,

And pitously on hir myn yën caste,

And ner the corps I gan to presen faste,

And for the soule I shoop me for to preye;

I nas but lorn; ther nas no more to seye.

[273]

Thus am I slayn, sith that Pite is deed;

Allas! that day! that ever hit shulde falle!

What maner man dar now holde up his heed?

To whom shal any sorwful herte calle?

Now Crueltee hath cast to sleen us alle,

In ydel hope, folk redelees of peyne—

Sith she is deed—to whom shul we compleyne?

But yet encreseth me this wonder newe,

That no wight woot that she is deed, but I;

So many men as in hir tyme hir knewe,

And yet she dyed not so sodeynly;

For I have sought hir ever ful besily

Sith first I hadde wit or mannes mynde;

But she was deed, er that I coude hir fynde.

Aboute hir herse ther stoden lustily,

Withouten any wo, as thoughte me,

Bountee parfit, wel armed and richely,

And fresshe Beautee, Lust, and Iolitee,

Assured Maner, Youthe, and Honestee,

Wisdom, Estaat, [and] Dreed, and Governaunce,

Confedred bothe by bonde and alliaunce.

A compleynt hadde I, writen, in myn hond,

For to have put to Pite as a bille,

But whan I al this companye ther fond,

That rather wolden al my cause spille

Than do me help, I held my pleynte stille;

[274]

For to that folk, withouten any faile,

Withoute Pite may no bille availe.

Then leve I al thise virtues, sauf Pite,

Keping the corps, as ye have herd me seyn,

Confedred alle by bonde of Crueltee,

And been assented that I shal be sleyn.

And I have put my compleynt up ageyn;

For to my foos my bille I dar not shewe,

Theffect of which seith thus, in wordes fewe:—

The Bille.

¶ 'Humblest of herte, hyest of reverence,

Benigne flour, coroune of vertues alle,

Sheweth unto your rial excellence

Your servaunt, if I durste me so calle,

His mortal harm, in which he is y-falle,

And noght al only for his evel fare,

But for your renoun, as he shal declare.

Hit stondeth thus: your contraire, Crueltee,

Allyed is ageynst your regalye

Under colour of womanly Beautee,

For men [ne] shuld not knowe hir tirannye,

With Bountee, Gentilesse, and Curtesye,

And hath depryved you now of your place

That hight "Beautee, apertenant to Grace."

[275]

For kyndly, by your heritage right,

Ye been annexed ever unto Bountee;

And verrayly ye oughte do your might

To helpe Trouthe in his adversitee.

Ye been also the coroune of Beautee;

And certes, if ye wanten in thise tweyne,

The world is lore; ther nis no more to seyne.

¶ 'Eek what availeth Maner and Gentilesse

Withoute you, benigne creature?

Shal Crueltee be your governeresse?

Allas! what herte may hit longe endure?

Wherfor, but ye the rather take cure

To breke that perilous alliaunce,

Ye sleen hem that ben in your obeisaunce.

'And further over, if ye suffre this,

Your renoun is fordo than in a throwe;

Ther shal no man wite wel what Pite is.

Allas! that your renoun shuld be so lowe!

Ye be than fro your heritage y-throwe

By Crueltee, that occupieth your place;

And we despeired, that seken to your grace.

Have mercy on me, thou Herenus quene,

That you have sought so tenderly and yore;

Let som streem of your light on me be sene

That love and drede you, ay lenger the more.

For, sothly for to seyne, I bere the sore,

[276]

And, though I be not cunning for to pleyne,

For goddes love, have mercy on my peyne!

¶ 'My peyne is this, that what so I desire

100

That have I not, ne no-thing lyk therto;

And ever set Desire myn herte on fire;

Eek on that other syde, wher-so I go,

What maner thing that may encrese wo

That have I redy, unsoght, everywhere;

105

Me [ne] lakketh but my deth, and than my bere.

What nedeth to shewe parcel of my peyne?

Sith every wo that herte may bethinke

I suffre, and yet I dar not to you pleyne;

For wel I woot, al-though I wake or winke,

110

Ye rekke not whether I flete or sinke.

But natheles, my trouthe I shal sustene

Unto my deth, and that shal wel be sene.

This is to seyne, I wol be youres ever;

Though ye me slee by Crueltee, your fo,

115

Algate my spirit shal never dissever

Fro your servyse, for any peyne or wo.

Sith ye be deed—allas! that hit is so!—

Thus for your deth I may wel wepe and pleyne

119

With herte sore and ful of besy peyne.'

Here endeth the exclamacion of the Deth of Pyte.

The MSS. are: Tn. (Tanner 346); F. (Fairfax 16); B. (Bodley 638); Sh. (Shirley's MS., Harl. 78); Ff. (Ff. 1. 6, in Camb. Univ. Library); T., here used for Trin. (Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 3. 19); also Ha. (Harl. 7578). I follow F. mainly, noting all variations of importance.

Title; in B. 1. F. agoo. 2. F. hert. 3. F. worlde; woo. 5. F. purpose. 8. F. be; B. Sh. T. by. F. certeyne. 9. Sh. Ha. a tyme sought; rest sought a tyme (badly). 10. F. bespreynte. 11. F. prayen. Sh. Ha. wreke; rest awreke. 14. F. fonde; dede. 15. F. Adovne. Ha. alone supplies that. 16. F. Dede; stone; while. T. (and Longleat) a; rest om. 17. F. roose; coloure. 18. F. petously; B. pitously. B. yen; F. eyen; after which all but Sh. and Ha. insert I. 19. Sh. Ha. to; which the rest omit. 20. Sh. shoope; rest shope. F. prey; Sh. preye. 21. For nas, the MSS. wrongly have was; in both places. F. lorne; sey.

22. F. slayne; dede. 23. Tn. shulde; F. shuld. 24. F. hold; hede. 25. All but Sh. and Ha. ins. now bef. any. F. eny. 26. F. caste. Sh. Ha. sleen; F. slee. 27. F. folke redelesse. 30. F. dede. 31. F. mony. 32. F. B. omit she; the rest have it. Only Sh. and T. retain so. 33. F. besely. For ever, Ten Brink reads ay. 34. Only Sh. gives this line correctly; so Ha. (but with any for mannes). F. Sith I hadde firste witte or mynde. 35. F. dede. Sh. Ha. that; rest omit. 36. F. there; lustely. 38. F. Bounte. 39. F. beaute; iolyte. 40. F. honeste. 41. F. Wisdome. F. B. estaat; rest estate; Ten Brink rightly supplies and after Estat (sic). F. drede. 43. Ha. hadde; Sh. hade; rest had. F. honde. 44. Sh. Ha. For; rest omit. F. pittee. 45. F. when. F. fonde. 46. Sh. wolden; F. wolde. 47. F. helpe; helde. Sh. Ha. compleynt; T. cause; rest pleynte or pleynt.

48. F. folke. F. withoute; B. without; Ha. withouten. 49. F. pitee. Ha. may; Sh. ne may; rest ther may. 50. Sh. Ha. þanne leve I alle þees vertues sauf pitee; F.B. Then leve we al vertues save oonly pite; Tn. Ff. T. Then leueall vertues save onely pite. 51. F. Kepynge; herde. 52. F. Cofedered (sic). Sh. alle by bonde of (Ha. om. alle); F. Tn. B. Ff. by bonde and by; T. by bound and. 53. Sh. that; rest when. 54. F. complaynt. 55. F. Foes; Tn. foos. 57. F. highest. 59. F. youre rialle. 60. F. Youre; durst. 61. Sh. whiche he is Inne falle; rest in which he is falle: Thynne has yfal; read y-falle. 62. F. oonly. 64. The MSS. insert that after thus, except Sh. and Ha. Sh. contraire; rest contrary. 65. Sh. ageynst; F. ayenst. 66. F. beaute. 67. The MSS. omit ne. F. shulde. 68. F. bounte. 69. Sh. nowe; which the rest omit. 70. Sh. heghte (for highte); Ha. hight; Tn. is hye; F. B. T. is hygh. F. beaute apertenent. The MSS. (except Sh. and Ha.) insert your after to.

71. F. kyndely; youre. 72. Most MSS. be; Ha. been; read been (and in l. 75). 73. F. verrely; youre. 75. F. beaute. 76. Tn. Ff. Ha. wante; rest want; read wanten. F. these tweyn. 77. F. worlde. For nis, all have is. F. seyn. 78. F. Eke. 79. F. yow. 82. F. Wherfore. 86. F. fordoo. Sh. than; rest omit. 87. F. wete well; rest omit well; Tn. wyte. 88. F. Tn. B. Ff. T. insert euer after that, which Sh. rightly omits. Sh. Ha. shoulde be; rest is falle. 89. Sh. thanne; rest also. F. youre. 90. F. youre. 91. Sh. sechen to; B. sekyn to; Tn. Ff. T. seken; F. speken to (for seken to). 92. Tn. F. B. Ff. herenus; T. heremus; Sh. vertuouse (!). 93. F. yow; tendirly. 94. B. som; F. somme. F. streme. Sh. Ha. youre; which the rest omit. 95. Sh. ay; rest euer. Sh. Ha. om. the. 96. F. sothely. Sh. the hevy sore; Ha. the sore; rest so sore (which gives no sense).

97. F. kunnynge. 98. F. goddis. 100. F. lyke. 101. F. Sh. setteth; Ha. set; rest settith; see note. F. hert. 102. F. Eke. F. sydes; rest side, syde. F. where so; goo. 103. Sh. Ha. we; rest insert my before wo. 104. F. vnsoghte. 105. All omit ne; see note. 107. F. woo. 109. F. wote. Sh. al-þaughe; rest though, thogh. 110. F. B. where; rest whether. 111. All but Sh. and Ha. needlessly insert yet before my. 114. F. soo; rest foo, fo. 115. F. spirite. 116. F. youre; eny. 117. B. yet (sic) be ded; F. Tn. Ff. T. ye be yet ded (which will not scan); Sh. Ha. have a diferent line—Now pitee þat I haue sought so yoore agoo.

The Proem.

I have gret wonder, by this lighte,

How that I live, for day ne nighte

I may nat slepe wel nigh noght;

I have so many an ydel thoght

Purely for defaute of slepe,

That, by my trouthe, I take kepe

Of no-thing, how hit cometh or goth,

Ne me nis no-thing leef nor loth.

Al is y-liche good to me—

Ioye or sorowe, wherso hit be—

For I have feling in no-thing,

But, as it were, a mased thing,

Alway in point to falle a-doun;

For [sory] imaginacioun

Is alway hoolly in my minde.

And wel ye wite, agaynes kinde

Hit were to liven in this wyse;

For nature wolde nat suffyse

To noon erthely creature

Not longe tyme to endure

Withoute slepe, and been in sorwe;

And I ne may, ne night ne morwe,

[278]

Slepe; and thus melancolye,

And dreed I have for to dye,

Defaute of slepe, and hevinesse

Hath sleyn my spirit of quiknesse,

That I have lost al lustihede.

Suche fantasyes ben in myn hede

So I not what is best to do.

But men mighte axe me, why so

I may not slepe, and what me is?

But natheles, who aske this

Leseth his asking trewely.

My-selven can not telle why

The sooth; but trewely, as I gesse,

I holdë hit be a siknesse

That I have suffred this eight yere,

And yet my bote is never the nere;

For ther is phisicien but oon,

That may me hele; but that is doon.

Passe we over until eft;

That wil not be, moot nede be left;

Our first matere is good to kepe.

So whan I saw I might not slepe,

Til now late, this other night,

Upon my bedde I sat upright,

And bad oon reche me a book,

A romaunce, and he hit me took

To rede and dryve the night away;

For me thoghte it better play

Then playen either at chesse or tables.

And in this boke were writen fables

[279]

That clerkes hadde, in olde tyme,

And other poets, put in ryme

To rede, and for to be in minde

Whyl men loved the lawe of kinde.

This book ne spak but of such thinges,

Of quenes lyves, and of kinges,

And many othere thinges smale.

Amonge al this I fond a tale

That me thoughte a wonder thing.

This was the tale: Ther was a king

That highte Seys, and hadde a wyf,

The beste that mighte bere lyf;

And this quene highte Alcyone.

So hit befel, therafter sone,

This king wolde wenden over see.

To tellen shortly, whan that he

Was in the see, thus in this wyse,

Soche a tempest gan to ryse

That brak hir mast, and made it falle,

And clefte hir ship, and dreinte hem alle,

That never was founden, as it telles,

Bord ne man, ne nothing elles.

Right thus this king Seys loste his lyf.

Now for to speken of his wyf:—

This lady, that was left at home,

Hath wonder, that the king ne come

Hoom, for hit was a longe terme.

Anon her herte gan to erme;

[280]

And for that hir thoughte evermo

Hit was not wel [he dwelte] so,

She longed so after the king

That certes, hit were a pitous thing

To telle hir hertely sorwful lyf

That hadde, alas! this noble wyf;

For him she loved alderbest.

Anon she sente bothe eest and west

To seke him, but they founde nought.

'Alas!' quoth she, 'that I was wrought!

And wher my lord, my love, be deed?

Certes, I nil never ete breed,

I make a-vowe to my god here,

But I mowe of my lorde here!'

Such sorwe this lady to her took

That trewely I, which made this book,

Had swich pite and swich rowthe

To rede hir sorwe, that, by my trowthe,

I ferde the worse al the morwe

100

After, to thenken on her sorwe.

So whan [she] coude here no word

That no man mighte fynde hir lord,

Ful oft she swouned, and seide 'alas!'

For sorwe ful nigh wood she was,

105

Ne she coude no reed but oon;

But doun on knees she sat anoon,

And weep, that pite was to here.

'A! mercy! swete lady dere!'

Quod she to Iuno, hir goddesse;

110

'Help me out of this distresse,

[281]

And yeve me grace my lord to see

Sone, or wite wher-so he be,

Or how he fareth, or in what wyse,

And I shal make you sacrifyse,

115

And hoolly youres become I shal

With good wil, body, herte, and al;

And but thou wilt this, lady swete,

Send me grace to slepe, and mete

In my slepe som certeyn sweven,

120

Wher-through that I may knowen even

Whether my lord be quik or deed.'

With that word she heng doun the heed,

And fil a-swown as cold as ston;

Hir women caughte her up anon,

125

And broghten hir in bed al naked,

And she, forweped and forwaked,

Was wery, and thus the dede sleep

Fil on her, or she toke keep,

Through Iuno, that had herd hir bone,

130

That made hir [for] to slepe sone;

For as she prayde, so was don,

In dede; for Iuno, right anon,

Called thus her messagere

To do her erande, and he com nere.

135

Whan he was come, she bad him thus:

Go bet,' quod Iuno, 'to Morpheus,

Thou knowest him wel, the god of sleep;

Now understond wel, and tak keep.

Sey thus on my halfe, that he

140

Go faste into the grete see,

[282]

And bid him that, on alle thing,

He take up Seys body the king,

That lyth ful pale and no-thing rody.

Bid him crepe into the body,

145

Aud do it goon to Alcyone

The quene, ther she lyth alone,

And shewe hir shortly, hit is no nay,

How hit was dreynt this other day;

And do the body speke so

150

Right as hit was wont to do,

The whyles that hit was on lyve.

Go now faste, and hy thee blyve!'

This messager took leve and wente

Upon his wey, and never ne stente

155

Til he com to the derke valeye

That stant bytwene roches tweye

Ther never yet grew corn ne gras,

Ne tree, ne nothing that ought was,

Beste, ne man, ne nothing elles,

160

Save ther were a fewe welles

Came renning fro the cliffes adoun,

That made a deedly sleping soun,

And ronnen doun right by a cave

That was under a rokke y-grave

165

Amid the valey, wonder depe.

Ther thise goddes laye and slepe,

Morpheus, and Eclympasteyre,

That was the god of slepes heyre,

That slepe and did non other werk.

170

This cave was also as derk

[283]

As helle pit over-al aboute;

They had good leyser for to route

To envye, who might slepe beste;

Some henge hir chin upon hir breste

175

And slepe upright, hir heed y-hed,

And some laye naked in hir bed,

And slepe whyles the dayes laste.

This messager com flying faste,

And cryed, 'O ho! awak anon!'

180

Hit was for noght; ther herde him non.

Awak!' quod he, 'who is, lyth there?'

And blew his horn right in hir ere,

And cryed 'awaketh!' wonder hyë.

This god of slepe, with his oon yë

185

Cast up, axed, 'who clepeth there?'

Hit am I,' quod this messagere;

Iuno bad thou shuldest goon'—

And tolde him what he shulde doon

As I have told yow here-tofore;

190

Hit is no need reherse hit more;

And wente his wey, whan he had sayd.

Anon this god of slepe a-brayd

Out of his slepe, and gan to goon,

And did as he had bede him doon;

195

Took up the dreynte body sone,

And bar hit forth to Alcyone,

His wyf the quene, ther-as she lay,

Right even a quarter before day,

And stood right at hir beddes fete,

200

And called hir, right as she hete,

[284]

By name, and seyde, 'my swete wyf,

Awak! let be your sorwful lyf!

For in your sorwe ther lyth no reed;

For certes, swete, I nam but deed;

205

Ye shul me never on lyve y-see.

But good swete herte, [look] that ye

Bury my body, [at whiche] a tyde

Ye mowe hit finde the see besyde;

And far-wel, swete, my worldes blisse!

210

I praye god your sorwe lisse;

To litel whyl our blisse lasteth!'

With that hir eyen up she casteth,

And saw noght; '[A]!' quod she, 'for sorwe!'

And deyed within the thridde morwe.

215

But what she sayde more in that swow

I may not telle yow as now,

Hit were to longe for to dwelle;

My first matere I wil yow telle,

Wherfor I have told this thing

220

Of Alcione and Seys the king.

For thus moche dar I saye wel,

I had be dolven everydel,

And deed, right through defaute of sleep,

If I nad red and taken keep

225

Of this tale next before:

And I wol telle yow wherfore;

For I ne might, for bote ne bale,

Slepe, or I had red this tale

Of this dreynte Seys the king,

230

And of the goddes of sleping.

[285]

Whan I had red this tale wel,

And over-loked hit everydel,

Me thoughte wonder if hit were so;

For I had never herd speke, or tho,

235

Of no goddes that coude make

Men [for] to slepe, ne for to wake;

For I ne knew never god but oon.

And in my game I sayde anoon—

And yet me list right evel to pleye—

240

'Rather then that I shulde deye

Through defaute of sleping thus,

I wolde yive thilke Morpheus,

Or his goddesse, dame Iuno,

Or som wight elles, I ne roghte who—

245

To make me slepe and have som reste—

I wil yive him the alder-beste

Yift that ever he abood his lyve,

And here on warde, right now, as blyve;

If he wol make me slepe a lyte,

250

Of downe of pure dowves whyte

I wil yive him a fether-bed,

Rayed with golde, and right wel cled

In fyn blak satin doutremere,

And many a pilow, and every bere

255

Of clothe of Reynes, to slepe softe;

Him thar not nede to turnen ofte.

And I wol yive him al that falles

To a chambre; and al his halles

I wol do peynte with pure golde,

260

And tapite hem ful many folde

Of oo sute; this shal he have,

If I wiste wher were his cave,

If he can make me slepe sone,

As did the goddesse Alcione.

265

And thus this ilke god, Morpheus,

May winne of me mo feës thus

Than ever he wan; and to Iuno,

That is his goddesse, I shal so do,

I trow that she shal holde her payd.'

270

I hadde unneth that word y-sayd

Right thus as I have told hit yow,

That sodeynly, I niste how,

Swich a lust anoon me took

To slepe, that right upon my book

275

I fil aslepe, and therwith even

Me mette so inly swete a sweven,

So wonderful, that never yit

I trowe no man hadde the wit

To conne wel my sweven rede;

280

No, not Ioseph, withoute drede,

Of Egipte, he that redde so

The kinges meting Pharao,

No more than coude the leste of us;

Ne nat scarsly Macrobeus,

285

(He that wroot al thavisioun

That he mette, king Scipioun,

The noble man, the Affrican—

Swiche mervayles fortuned than)

I trowe, a-rede my dremes even.

290

Lo, thus hit was, this was my sweven.

[286]

The Dream.

Me thoughte thus:—that hit was May,

And in the dawning ther I lay,

Me mette thus, in my bed al naked:—

[I] loked forth, for I was waked

295

With smale foules a gret hepe,

That had affrayed me out of slepe

Through noyse and swetnesse of hir song;

And, as me mette, they sate among,

Upon my chambre-roof withoute,

300

Upon the tyles, al a-boute,

And songen, everich in his wyse,

The moste solempne servyse

By note, that ever man, I trowe,

Had herd; for som of hem song lowe,

305

Som hye, and al of oon acorde.

To telle shortly, at oo worde,

Was never y-herd so swete a steven,

But hit had be a thing of heven;—

So mery a soun, so swete entunes,

310

That certes, for the toune of Tewnes,

I nolde but I had herd hem singe,

For al my chambre gan to ringe

Through singing of hir armonye.

For instrument nor melodye

315

Was nowher herd yet half so swete,

Nor of acorde half so mete;

For ther was noon of hem that feyned

To singe, for ech of hem him peyned

[287]

To finde out mery crafty notes;

320

They ne spared not hir throtes.

And, sooth to seyn, my chambre was

Ful wel depeynted, and with glas

Were al the windowes wel y-glased,

Ful clere, and nat an hole y-crased,

325

That to beholde hit was gret Ioye.

For hoolly al the storie of Troye

Was in the glasing y-wroght thus,

Of Ector and king Priamus,

Of Achilles and Lamedon,

330

Of Medea and of Iason,

Of Paris, Eleyne, and Lavyne.

And alle the walles with colours fyne

Were peynted, bothe text and glose,

[Of] al the Romaunce of the Rose.

335

My windowes weren shet echon,

And through the glas the sunne shon

Upon my bed with brighte bemes,

With many glade gilden stremes;

And eek the welken was so fair,

340

Blew, bright, clere was the air,

And ful atempre, for sothe, hit was;

For nother cold nor hoot hit nas,

Ne in al the welken was a cloude.

And as I lay thus, wonder loude

345

Me thoughte I herde an hunte blowe

Tassaye his horn, and for to knowe

[288]

Whether hit were clere or hors of soune.

I herde goinge, up and doune,

Men, hors, houndes, and other thing;

350

And al men speken of hunting,

How they wolde slee the hert with strengthe,

And how the hert had, upon lengthe,

So moche embosed, I not now what.

Anon-right, whan I herde that,

355

How that they wolde on hunting goon,

I was right glad, and up anoon;

[I] took my hors, and forth I wente

Out of my chambre; I never stente

Til I com to the feld withoute.

360

Ther overtook I a gret route

Of huntes and eek of foresteres,

With many relayes and lymeres,

And hyed hem to the forest faste,

And I with hem;—so at the laste

365

I asked oon, ladde a lymere:—

Say, felow, who shal hunten here

Quod I; and he answerde ageyn,

Sir, themperour Octovien,'

Quod he, 'and is heer faste by.'

370

'A goddes halfe, in good tyme,' quod I,

Go we faste!' and gan to ryde.

Whan we came to the forest-syde,

Every man dide, right anoon,

As to hunting fil to doon.

375

The mayster-hunte anoon, fot-hoot,

With a gret horne blew three moot

[289]

At the uncoupling of his houndes.

Within a whyl the hert [y]-founde is,

Y-halowed, and rechased faste

380

Longe tyme; and at the laste,

This hert rused and stal away

Fro alle the houndes a prevy way.

The houndes had overshote hem alle,

And were on a defaute y-falle;

385

Therwith the hunte wonder faste

Blew a forloyn at the laste.

I was go walked fro my tree,

And as I wente, ther cam by me

A whelp, that fauned me as I stood,

390

That hadde y-folowed, and coude no good.

Hit com and creep to me as lowe,

Right as hit hadde me y-knowe,

Hild doun his heed and Ioyned his eres,

And leyde al smothe doun his heres.

395

I wolde han caught hit, and anoon

Hit fledde, and was fro me goon;

And I him folwed, and hit forth wente

Doun by a floury grene wente

Ful thikke of gras, ful softe and swete,

400

With floures fele, faire under fete,

And litel used, hit seemed thus;

For bothe Flora and Zephirus,

They two that make floures growe,

Had mad hir dwelling ther, I trowe;

[290]

405

For hit was, on to beholde,

As thogh the erthe envye wolde

To be gayer than the heven,

To have mo floures, swiche seven

As in the welken sterres be.

410

Hit had forgete the povertee

That winter, through his colde morwes,

Had mad hit suffren, and his sorwes;

Al was forgeten, and that was sene.

For al the wode was waxen grene,

415

Swetnesse of dewe had mad it waxe.

Hit is no need eek for to axe

Wher ther were many grene greves,

Or thikke of trees, so ful of leves;

And every tree stood by him-selve

420

Fro other wel ten foot or twelve.

So grete trees, so huge of strengthe,

Of fourty or fifty fadme lengthe,

Clene withoute bough or stikke,

With croppes brode, and eek as thikke—

425

They were nat an inche a-sonder—

That hit was shadwe over-al under;

And many an hert and many an hinde

Was both before me and bihinde.

Of founes, soures, bukkes, doës

430

Was ful the wode, and many roës,

And many squirelles, that sete

Ful hye upon the trees, and ete,

And in hir maner made festes.

Shortly, hit was so ful of bestes,

[291]

435

That thogh Argus, the noble countour,

Sete to rekene in his countour,

And rekened with his figures ten—

For by tho figures mowe al ken,

If they be crafty, rekene and noumbre,

440

And telle of every thing the noumbre—

Yet shulde he fayle to rekene even

The wondres, me mette in my sweven.

But forth they romed wonder faste

Doun the wode; so at the laste

445

I was war of a man in blak,

That sat and had y-turned his bak

To an oke, an huge tree.

Lord,' thoghte I, 'who may that be?

What ayleth him to sitten here?'

450

Anoon-right I wente nere;

Than fond I sitte even upright

A wonder wel-faringe knight—

By the maner me thoughte so—

Of good mochel, and yong therto,

455

Of the age of four and twenty yeer.

Upon his berde but litel heer,

And he was clothed al in blakke.

I stalked even unto his bakke,

And ther I stood as stille as ought,

460

That, sooth to saye, he saw me nought,

For-why he heng his heed adoune.

And with a deedly sorwful soune

[292]

He made of ryme ten vers or twelve,

Of a compleynt to him-selve,

465

The moste pite, the moste rowthe,

That ever I herde; for, by my trowthe,

Hit was gret wonder that nature

Might suffren any creature

To have swich sorwe, and be not deed.

470

Ful pitous, pale, and nothing reed,

He sayde a lay, a maner song,

Withoute note, withoute song,

And hit was this; for wel I can

Reherse hit; right thus hit began.—

475

¶ 'I have of sorwe so gret woon,

That Ioye gete I never noon,

Now that I see my lady bright,

Which I have loved with al my might,

479

Is fro me deed, and is a-goon.

481

¶ Allas, [o] deeth! what ayleth thee,

That thou noldest have taken me,

Whan that thou toke my lady swete?

That was so fayr, so fresh, so free,

485

So good, that men may wel [y]-see

Of al goodnesse she had no mete!'—

Whan he had mad thus his complaynte,

His sorowful herte gan faste faynte,

And his spirites wexen dede;

490

The blood was fled, for pure drede,

[293]

Doun to his herte, to make him warm—

For wel hit feled the herte had harm—

To wite eek why hit was a-drad

By kinde, and for to make hit glad;

495

For hit is membre principal

Of the body; and that made al

His hewe chaunge and wexe grene

And pale, for no blood [was] sene

In no maner lime of his.

500

Anoon therwith whan I saw this,

He ferde thus evel ther he sete,

I wente and stood right at his fete,

And grette him, but he spak noght,

But argued with his owne thoght,

505

And in his witte disputed faste

Why and how his lyf might laste;

Him thoughte his sorwes were so smerte

And lay so colde upon his herte;

So, through his sorwe and hevy thoght,

510

Made him that he ne herde me noght;

For he had wel nigh lost his minde,

Thogh Pan, that men clepe god of kinde,

Were for his sorwes never so wrooth.

But at the laste, to sayn right sooth,

515

He was war of me, how I stood

Before him, and dide of myn hood,

And [grette] him, as I best coude.

Debonairly, and no-thing loude,

He sayde, 'I prey thee, be not wrooth,

520

I herde thee not, to sayn the sooth,

[294]

Ne I saw thee not, sir, trewely.'

'A! goode sir, no fors,' quod I,

I am right sory if I have ought

Destroubled yow out of your thought;

525

For-yive me if I have mis-take.'

'Yis, thamendes is light to make,'

Quod he, 'for ther lyth noon ther-to;

Ther is no-thing missayd nor do.'

Lo! how goodly spak this knight,

530

As it had been another wight;

He made it nouther tough ne queynte

And I saw that, and gan me aqueynte

With him, and fond him so tretable,

Right wonder skilful and resonable,

535

As me thoghte, for al his bale.

Anoon-right I gan finde a tale

To him, to loke wher I might ought

Have more knowing of his thought.

'Sir,' quod I, 'this game is doon;

540

I holde that this hert be goon;

Thise huntes conne him nowher see.'

'I do no fors therof,' quod he,

My thought is ther-on never a del.'

'By our lord,' quod I, 'I trow yow wel,

545

Right so me thinketh by your chere.

But, sir, oo thing wol ye here?

Me thinketh, in gret sorwe I yow see;

But certes, [good] sir, yif that ye

Wolde ought discure me your wo,

550

I wolde, as wis god helpe me so,

Amende hit, yif I can or may;

Ye mowe preve hit by assay.

[295]

For, by my trouthe, to make yow hool,

I wol do al my power hool;

555

And telleth me of your sorwes smerte,

Paraventure hit may ese your herte,

That semeth ful seke under your syde.'

With that he loked on me asyde,

As who sayth, 'nay, that wol not be.'

560

'Graunt mercy, goode frend,' quod he,

I thanke thee that thou woldest so,

But hit may never the rather be do.

No man may my sorwe glade,

That maketh my hewe to falle and fade,

565

And hath myn understonding lorn,

That me is wo that I was born!

May noght make my sorwes slyde,

Nought the remedies of Ovyde;

Ne Orpheus, god of melodye,

570

Ne Dedalus, with playes slye;

Ne hele me may phisicien,

Noght Ypocras, ne Galien;

Me is wo that I live houres twelve;

But who so wol assaye him-selve

575

Whether his herte can have pite

Of any sorwe, lat him see me.

I wrecche, that deeth hath mad al naked

Of alle blisse that was ever maked,

Y-worthe worste of alle wightes,

580

That hate my dayes and my nightes;

My lyf, my lustes be me lothe,

For al welfare and I be wrothe.

The pure deeth is so my fo,

[Thogh] I wolde deye, hit wolde not so;

[296]

585

For whan I folwe hit, hit wol flee;

I wolde have [hit], hit nil not me.

This is my peyne withoute reed,

Alway deying, and be not deed,

That Sesiphus, that lyth in helle,

590

May not of more sorwe telle.

And who so wiste al, by my trouthe,

My sorwe, but he hadde routhe

And pite of my sorwes smerte,

That man hath a feendly herte.

595

For who so seeth me first on morwe

May seyn, he hath [y]-met with sorwe;

For I am sorwe and sorwe is I.

'Allas! and I wol telle the why;

My [song] is turned to pleyning,

600

And al my laughter to weping,

My glade thoghtes to hevinesse,

In travaile is myn ydelnesse

And eek my reste; my wele is wo.

My good is harm, and ever-mo

605

In wrathe is turned my pleying,

And my delyt in-to sorwing.

Myn hele is turned into seeknesse,

In drede is al my sikernesse.

To derke is turned al my light,

610

My wit is foly, my day is night,

[297]

My love is hate, my sleep waking,

My mirthe and meles is fasting,

My countenaunce is nycete,

And al abaved wher-so I be,

615

My pees, in pleding and in werre;

Allas! how mighte I fare werre?

'My boldnesse is turned to shame,

For fals Fortune hath pleyd a game

Atte ches with me, allas! the whyle!

620

The trayteresse fals and ful of gyle,

That al behoteth and no-thing halt,

She goth upryght and yet she halt,

That baggeth foule and loketh faire,

The dispitousë debonaire,

625

That scorneth many a creature!

An ydole of fals portraiture

Is she, for she wil sone wryen;

She is the monstres heed y-wryen,

As filth over y-strawed with floures;

630

Hir moste worship and hir [flour is]

To lyen, for that is hir nature;

Withoute feyth, lawe, or mesure

She is fals; and ever laughinge

With oon eye, and that other wepinge.

635

That is broght up, she set al doun.

I lykne hir to the scorpioun,

That is a fals flatering beste;

For with his hede he maketh feste,

But al amid his flateringe

640

With his tayle he wol stinge,

[298]

And envenyme; and so wol she.

She is thenvyous charite

That is ay fals, and semeth wele,

So turneth she hir false whele

645

Aboute, for it is no-thing stable,

Now by the fyre, now at table;

Ful many oon hath she thus y-blent.

She is pley of enchauntement,

That semeth oon and is nat so,

650

The false theef! what hath she do,

Trowest thou? by our lord, I wol thee seye.

Atte ches with me she gan to pleye;

With hir false draughtes divers

She stal on me, and took my fers.

655

And whan I saw my fers aweye,

Alas! I couthe no lenger pleye,

But seyde, "farwel, swete, y-wis,

And farwel al that ever ther is!"

Therwith Fortune seyde "chek here!"

660

And "mate!" in mid pointe of the chekkere

With a poune erraunt, allas!

Ful craftier to pley she was

Than Athalus, that made the game

First of the ches: so was his name.

665

But god wolde I had ones or twyes

Y-koud and knowe the Ieupardyes

That coude the Grek Pithagores!

I shulde have pleyd the bet at ches,

[299]

And kept my fers the bet therby;

670

And thogh wherto? for trewely

I hold that wish nat worth a stree!

Hit had be never the bet for me.

For Fortune can so many a wyle,

Ther be but fewe can hir begyle,

675

And eek she is the las to blame;

My-self I wolde have do the same,

Before god, hadde I been as she;

She oghte the more excused be.

For this I say yet more therto,

680

Hadde I be god and mighte have do

My wille, whan my fers she caughte,

I wolde have drawe the same draughte.

For, also wis god yive me reste,

I dar wel swere she took the beste!

685

'But through that draughte I have lorn

My blisse; allas! that I was born!

For evermore, I trowe trewly,

For al my wil, my lust hoolly

Is turned; but yet, what to done?

690

By our lord, hit is to deye sone;

For no-thing I [ne] leve it noght,

But live and deye right in this thoght.

Ther nis planete in firmament,

Ne in air, ne in erthe, noon element,

695

That they ne yive me a yift echoon

Of weping, whan I am aloon.

For whan that I avyse me wel,

And bethenke me every-del,

[300]

How that ther lyth in rekening,

700

In my sorwe, for no-thing;

And how ther leveth no gladnesse

May gladde me of my distresse,

And how I have lost suffisance,

And therto I have no plesance,

705

Than may I say, I have right noght.

And whan al this falleth in my thoght,

Allas! than am I overcome!

For that is doon is not to come!

I have more sorowe than Tantale.'

710

And whan I herde him telle this tale

Thus pitously, as I yow telle,

Unnethe mighte I lenger dwelle,

Hit dide myn herte so moche wo.

'A! good sir!' quod I, 'say not so!

715

Have som pite on your nature

That formed yow to creature,

Remembre yow of Socrates;

For he ne counted nat three strees

Of noght that Fortune coude do.'

720

'No,' quod he, 'I can not so.'

'Why so? good sir! parde!' quod I;

Ne say noght so, for trewely,

Thogh ye had lost the ferses twelve,

And ye for sorwe mordred your-selve,

725

Ye sholde be dampned in this cas

By as good right as Medea was,

That slow hir children for Iason;

And Phyllis als for Demophon

Heng hir-self, so weylaway!

730

For he had broke his terme-day

[301]

To come to hir. Another rage

Had Dydo, quene eek of Cartage,

That slow hir-self, for Eneas

Was fals; [a!] whiche a fool she was!

735

And Ecquo dyed for Narcisus

Nolde nat love hir; and right thus

Hath many another foly don.

And for Dalida dyed Sampson,

That slow him-self with a pilere.

740

But ther is [noon] a-lyve here

Wolde for a fers make this wo!'

'Why so?' quod he; 'hit is nat so;

Thou wost ful litel what thou menest;

I have lost more than thou wenest.'

745

'Lo, [sir,] how may that be?' quod I;

Good sir, tel me al hoolly

In what wyse, how, why, and wherfore

That ye have thus your blisse lore.'

'Blythly,' quod he, 'com sit adoun;

750

I telle thee up condicioun

That thou hoolly, with al thy wit,

Do thyn entent to herkene hit.'

Yis, sir.' 'Swere thy trouthe ther-to.'

Gladly.' 'Do than holde her-to!'

755

'I shal right blythly, so god me save,

Hoolly, with al the witte I have,

Here yow, as wel as I can.'

'A goddes half!' quod he, and began:—

[302]

Sir,' quod he, 'sith first I couthe

760

Have any maner wit fro youthe,

Or kyndely understonding

To comprehende, in any thing,

What love was, in myn owne wit,

Dredeles, I have ever yit

765

Be tributary, and yiven rente

To love hoolly with goode entente,

And through plesaunce become his thral,

With good wil, body, herte, and al.

Al this I putte in his servage,

770

As to my lorde, and dide homage;

And ful devoutly prayde him to,

He shulde besette myn herte so,

That it plesaunce to him were,

And worship to my lady dere.

775

'And this was longe, and many a yeer

Or that myn herte was set o-wher,

That I did thus, and niste why;

I trowe hit cam me kindely.

Paraunter I was therto most able

780

As a whyt wal or a table;

For hit is redy to cacche and take

Al that men wil therin make,

Wher-so men wol portreye or peynte,

Be the werkes never so queynte.

785

'And thilke tyme I ferde so

I was able to have lerned tho,

And to have coud as wel or better,

Paraunter, other art or letter.

[303]

But for love cam first in my thought,

790

Therfore I forgat it nought.

I chees love to my firste craft,

Therfor hit is with me [y]-laft.

Forwhy I took hit of so yong age,

That malice hadde my corage

795

Nat that tyme turned to no-thing

Through to mochel knowleching.

For that tyme youthe, my maistresse,

Governed me in ydelnesse;

For hit was in my firste youthe,

800

And tho ful litel good I couthe;

For al my werkes were flittinge,

And al my thoghtes varyinge;

Al were to me y-liche good,

That I knew tho; but thus hit stood.

805

'Hit happed that I cam on a day

Into a place, ther I say,

Trewly, the fayrest companyë

Of ladies, that ever man with yë

Had seen togedres in oo place.

810

Shal I clepe hit hap other grace

That broghte me ther? nay, but Fortune,

That is to lyen ful comune,

The false trayteresse, pervers,

God wolde I coude clepe hir wers!

815

For now she worcheth me ful wo,

And I wol telle sone why so.

'Among thise ladies thus echoon,

Soth to seyn, I saw [ther] oon

[304]

That was lyk noon of [al] the route;

820

For I dar swere, withoute doute,

That as the someres sonne bright

Is fairer, clerer, and hath more light

Than any planete, [is] in heven,

The mone, or the sterres seven,

825

For al the worlde, so had she

Surmounted hem alle of beaute,

Of maner and of comlinesse,

Of stature and wel set gladnesse,

Of goodlihede so wel beseye—

830

Shortly, what shal I more seye?

By god, and by his halwes twelve,

It was my swete, right as hir-selve!

She had so stedfast countenaunce,

So noble port and meyntenaunce.

835

And Love, that had herd my bone,

Had espyed me thus sone,

That she ful sone, in my thoght,

As helpe me god, so was y-caught

So sodenly, that I ne took

840

No maner [reed] but at hir look

And at myn herte; for-why hir eyen

So gladly, I trow, myn herte seyen,

That purely tho myn owne thoght

Seyde hit were [bet] serve hir for noght

845

Than with another to be wel.

And hit was sooth, for, everydel,

[305]

I wil anoon-right telle thee why.

'I saw hir daunce so comlily,

Carole and singe so swetely,

850

Laughe and pleye so womanly,

And loke so debonairly,

So goodly speke and so frendly,

That certes, I trow, that evermore

Nas seyn so blisful a tresore.

855

For every heer [up]on hir hede,

Soth to seyn, hit was not rede,

Ne nouther yelw, ne broun hit nas;

Me thoghte, most lyk gold hit was.

And whiche eyen my lady hadde!

860

Debonair, goode, glade, and sadde,

Simple, of good mochel, noght to wyde;

Therto hir look nas not a-syde,

Ne overthwert, but beset so wel,

Hit drew and took up, everydel,

865

Alle that on hir gan beholde.

Hir eyen semed anoon she wolde

Have mercy; fooles wenden so;

But hit was never the rather do.

Hit nas no countrefeted thing,

870

It was hir owne pure loking,

That the goddesse, dame Nature,

Had made hem opene by mesure,

And close; for, were she never so glad,

Hir loking was not foly sprad,

875

Ne wildely, thogh that she pleyde;

But ever, me thoghte, hir eyen seyde,

[306]

"By god, my wrathe is al for-yive!"

'Therwith hir liste so wel to live,

That dulnesse was of hir a-drad.

880

She nas to sobre ne to glad;

In alle thinges more mesure

Had never, I trowe, creature.

But many oon with hir loke she herte,

And that sat hir ful lyte at herte,

885

For she knew no-thing of hir thoght;

But whether she knew, or knew hit noght

Algate she ne roghte of hem a stree!

To gete hir love no ner nas he

That woned at home, than he in Inde;

890

The formest was alway behinde.

But goode folk, over al other,

She loved as man may do his brother;

Of whiche love she was wonder large,

In skilful places that bere charge.

895

'Which a visage had she ther-to!

Allas! myn herte is wonder wo

That I ne can discryven hit!

Me lakketh bothe English and wit

For to undo hit at the fulle;

900

And eek my spirits be so dulle

So greet a thing for to devyse.

I have no wit that can suffyse

To comprehenden hir beaute;

But thus moche dar I seyn, that she

905

Was rody, fresh, and lyvely hewed;

And every day hir beaute newed.

[307]

And negh hir face was alder-best;

For certes, Nature had swich lest

To make that fair, that trewly she

910

Was hir cheef patron of beautee,

And cheef ensample of al hir werke,

And moustre; for, be hit never so derke,

Me thinketh I see hir ever-mo.

And yet more-over, thogh alle tho

915

That ever lived were now a-lyve,

[They] ne sholde have founde to discryve

In al hir face a wikked signe;

For hit was sad, simple, and benigne.

'And which a goodly softe speche

920

Had that swete, my lyves leche!

So frendly, and so wel y-grounded,

Up al resoun so wel y-founded,

And so tretable to alle gode,

That I dar swere by the rode,

925

Of eloquence was never founde

So swete a sowninge facounde,

Ne trewer tonged, ne scorned lasse,

Ne bet coude hele; that, by the masse

I durste swere, thogh the pope hit songe,

930

That ther was never through hir tonge

Man ne woman gretly harmed;

As for hir, [ther] was al harm hid;

Ne lasse flatering in hir worde,

That purely, hir simple recorde

[308]

935

Was founde as trewe as any bonde,

Or trouthe of any mannes honde.

Ne chyde she coude never a del,

That knoweth al the world ful wel.

'But swich a fairnesse of a nekke

940

Had that swete, that boon nor brekke

Nas ther non sene, that mis-sat.

Hit was whyt, smothe, streght, and flat,

Withouten hole; [and] canel-boon,

As by seming, had she noon.

945

Hir throte, as I have now memoire,

Semed a round tour of yvoire,

Of good gretnesse, and noght to grete.

'And gode faire Whyte she hete,

That was my lady name right.

950

She was bothe fair and bright,

She hadde not hir name wrong.

Right faire shuldres, and body long

She hadde, and armes, every lith

Fattish, flesshy, not greet therwith;

955

Right whyte handes, and nayles rede,

Rounde brestes; and of good brede

Hir hippes were, a streight flat bak.

I knew on hir non other lak

That al hir limmes nere sewing,

960

In as fer as I had knowing.

'Therto she coude so wel pleye,

Whan that hir liste, that I dar seye,

[309]

That she was lyk to torche bright,

That every man may take of light

965

Ynogh, and hit hath never the lesse.

'Of maner and of comlinesse

Right so ferde my lady dere;

For every wight of hir manere

Might cacche ynogh, if that he wolde,

970

If he had eyen hir to beholde.

For I dar sweren, if that she

Had among ten thousand be,

She wolde have be, at the leste,

A cheef mirour of al the feste,

975

Thogh they had stonden in a rowe,

To mennes eyen that coude have knowe.

For wher-so men had pleyd or waked,

Me thoghte the felawship as naked

Withouten hir, that saw I ones,

980

As a coroune withoute stones.

Trewely she was, to myn yë,

The soleyn fenix of Arabye,

For ther liveth never but oon;

Ne swich as she ne knew I noon.

985

'To speke of goodnesse; trewly she

Had as moche debonairte

As ever had Hester in the bible,

And more, if more were possible.

And, soth to seyne, therwith-al

990

She had a wit so general,

So hool enclyned to alle gode,

That al hir wit was set, by the rode,

[310]

Withoute malice, upon gladnesse;

Therto I saw never yet a lesse

995

Harmful, than she was in doing.

I sey nat that she ne had knowing

What was harm; or elles she

Had coud no good, so thinketh me.

'And trewly, for to speke of trouthe,

1000

But she had had, hit had be routhe.

Therof she had so moche hir del—

And I dar seyn and swere hit wel—

That Trouthe him-self, over al and al,

Had chose his maner principal

1005

In hir, that was his resting-place.

Ther-to she hadde the moste grace,

To have stedfast perseveraunce,

And esy, atempre governaunce,

That ever I knew or wiste yit;

1010

So pure suffraunt was hir wit.

And reson gladly she understood,

Hit folowed wel she coude good.

She used gladly to do wel;

These were hir maners every-del.

1015

'Therwith she loved so wel right,

She wrong do wolde to no wight;

No wight might do hir no shame,

She loved so wel hir owne name.

Hir luste to holde no wight in honde;

1020

Ne, be thou siker, she nolde fonde

To holde no wight in balaunce,

By half word ne by countenaunce,

[311]

But-if men wolde upon hir lye;

Ne sende men in-to Walakye,

1025

To Pruyse and in-to Tartarye,

To Alisaundre, ne in-to Turkye,

And bidde him faste, anoon that he

Go hoodles to the drye see,

And come hoom by the Carrenare;

1030

And seye, "Sir, be now right ware

That I may of yow here seyn

Worship, or that ye come ageyn!"

She ne used no suche knakkes smale.

'But wherfor that I telle my tale?

1035

Right on this same, as I have seyd,

Was hoolly al my love leyd;

For certes, she was, that swete wyf,

My suffisaunce, my lust, my lyf,

Myn hap, myn hele, and al my blisse,

1040

My worldes welfare and my [lisse],

And I hirs hoolly, everydel.'

'By our lord,' quod I, 'I trowe yow wel!

Hardely, your love was wel beset,

I not how ye mighte have do bet.'

1045

'Bet? ne no wight so wel!' quod he.

I trowe hit, sir,' quod I, 'parde!'

Nay, leve hit wel!' 'Sir, so do I;

I leve yow wel, that trewely

Yow thoghte, that she was the beste,

1050

And to beholde the alderfaireste,

Who so had loked with your eyen.'

'With myn? nay, alle that hir seyen

[312]

Seyde, and sworen hit was so.

And thogh they ne hadde, I wolde tho

1055

Have loved best my lady fre,

Thogh I had had al the beautee

That ever had Alcipyades,

And al the strengthe of Ercules,

And therto had the worthinesse

1060

Of Alisaundre, and al the richesse

That ever was in Babiloyne,

In Cartage, or in Macedoyne,

Or in Rome, or in Ninive;

And therto al-so hardy be

1065

As was Ector, so have I Ioye,

That Achilles slow at Troye—

And therfor was he slayn also

In a temple, for bothe two

Were slayn, he and Antilegius,

1070

And so seyth Dares Frigius,

For love of [hir] Polixena—

Or ben as wys as Minerva,

I wolde ever, withoute drede,

Have loved hir, for I moste nede!

1075

"Nede!" nay, I gabbe now,

Noght "nede," and I wol telle how,

For of good wille myn herte hit wolde,

And eek to love hir I was holde

As for the fairest and the beste.

1080

'She was as good, so have I reste,

As ever was Penelope of Grece,

Or as the noble wyf Lucrece,

[313]

That was the beste—he telleth thus,

The Romain Tytus Livius—

1085

She was as good, and no-thing lyke,

Thogh hir stories be autentyke;

Algate she was as trewe as she.

'But wherfor that I telle thee

Whan I first my lady sey?

1090

I was right yong, [the] sooth to sey,

And ful gret need I hadde to lerne;

Whan my herte wolde yerne

To love, it was a greet empryse.

But as my wit coude best suffyse,

1095

After my yonge childly wit,

Withoute drede, I besette hit

To love hir in my beste wyse,

To do hir worship and servyse

That I tho coude, by my trouthe,

1100

Withoute feyning outher slouthe;

For wonder fayn I wolde hir see.

So mochel hit amended me,

That, whan I saw hir first a-morwe,

I was warished of al my sorwe

1105

Of al day after, til hit were eve;

Me thoghte no-thing mighte me greve,

Were my sorwes never so smerte.

And yit she sit so in myn herte,

That, by my trouthe, I nolde noght,

1110

For al this worlde, out of my thoght

Leve my lady; no, trewly!'

'Now, by my trouthe, sir,' quod I,

[314]

Me thinketh ye have such a chaunce

As shrift withoute repentaunce.'

1115

'Repentaunce! nay fy,' quod he;

Shulde I now repente me

To love? nay, certes, than were I wel

Wers than was Achitofel,

Or Anthenor, so have I Ioye,

1120

The traytour that betraysed Troye,

Or the false Genelon,

He that purchased the treson

Of Rowland and of Olivere.

Nay, whyl I am a-lyve here

1125

I nil foryete hir never-mo.'

'Now, goode sir,' quod I [right] tho,

Ye han wel told me her-before.

It is no need reherse hit more

How ye sawe hir first, and where;

1130

But wolde ye telle me the manere,

To hir which was your firste speche—

Therof I wolde yow be-seche—

And how she knewe first your thoght,

Whether ye loved hir or noght,

1135

And telleth me eek what ye have lore;

I herde yow telle her-before.'

'Ye,' seyde he, 'thou nost what thou menest;

I have lost more than thou wenest.'

'What los is that, [sir]?' quod I tho;

1140

'Nil she not love yow? is hit so?

Or have ye oght [y-]doon amis,

That she hath left yow? is hit this?

[315]

For goddes love, tel me al.'

'Before god,' quod he, 'and I shal.

1145

I saye right as I have seyd,

On hir was al my love leyd;

And yet she niste hit never a del

Noght longe tyme, leve hit wel.

For be right siker, I durste noght

1150

For al this worlde telle hir my thoght,

Ne I wolde have wratthed hir, trewly.

For wostow why? she was lady

Of the body; she had the herte,

And who hath that, may not asterte.

1155

'But, for to kepe me fro ydelnesse,

Trewly I did my besinesse

To make songes, as I best coude,

And ofte tyme I song hem loude;

And made songes a gret del,

1160

Al-thogh I coude not make so wel

Songes, ne knowe the art al,

As coude Lamekes sone Tubal,

That fond out first the art of songe;

For, as his brothers hamers ronge

1165

Upon his anvelt up and doun,

Therof he took the firste soun;

But Grekes seyn, Pictagoras,

That he the firste finder was

Of the art; Aurora telleth so,

1170

But therof no fors, of hem two.

[316]

Algates songes thus I made

Of my feling, myn herte to glade;

And lo! this was [the] alther-firste,

I not wher [that] hit were the werste.—

1175

¶ "Lord, hit maketh myn herte light,

Whan I thenke on that swete wight

That is so semely on to see;

And wisshe to god hit might so be,

That she wolde holde me for hir knight,

1180

My lady, that is so fair and bright!"—

'Now have I told thee, sooth to saye,

My firste song. Upon a daye

I bethoghte me what wo

And sorwe that I suffred tho

1185

For hir, and yet she wiste hit noght,

Ne telle hir durste I nat my thoght.

"Allas!" thoghte I, "I can no reed;

And, but I telle hir, I nam but deed;

And if I telle hir, to seye sooth,

1190

I am a-dred she wol be wrooth;

Allas! what shal I thanne do?"

'In this debat I was so wo,

Me thoghte myn herte braste a-tweyn!

So atte laste, soth to seyn,

1195

I me bethoghte that nature

Ne formed never in creature

So moche beaute, trewely,

And bounte, withouten mercy.

[317]

'In hope of that, my tale I tolde

1200

With sorwe, as that I never sholde,

For nedes; and, maugree my heed,

I moste have told hir or be deed.

I not wel how that I began,

Ful evel rehersen hit I can;

1205

And eek, as helpe me god with-al,

I trowe hit was in the dismal,

That was the ten woundes of Egipte;

For many a word I over-skipte

In my tale, for pure fere

1210

Lest my wordes mis-set were.

With sorweful herte, and woundes dede,

Softe and quaking for pure drede

And shame, and stinting in my tale

For ferde, and myn hewe al pale,

1215

Ful ofte I wex bothe pale and reed;

Bowing to hir, I heng the heed;

I durste nat ones loke hir on,

For wit, manere, and al was gon.

I seyde "mercy!" and no more;

1220

Hit nas no game, hit sat me sore.

'So atte laste, sooth to seyn,

Whan that myn herte was come ageyn,

To telle shortly al my speche,

With hool herte I gan hir beseche

1225

That she wolde be my lady swete;

And swor, and gan hir hertely hete

Ever to be stedfast and trewe,

And love hir alwey freshly newe,

[318]

And never other lady have,

1230

And al hir worship for to save

As I best coude; I swor hir this—

"For youres is al that ever ther is

For evermore, myn herte swete!

And never false yow, but I mete,

1235

I nil, as wis god helpe me so!"

'And whan I had my tale y-do,

God wot, she acounted nat a stree

Of al my tale, so thoghte me.

To telle shortly as hit is,

1240

Trewly hir answere, hit was this;

I can not now wel counterfete

Hir wordes, but this was the grete

Of hir answere; she sayde, "nay"

Al-outerly. Allas! that day

1245

The sorwe I suffred, and the wo!

That trewly Cassandra, that so

Bewayled the destruccioun

Of Troye and of Ilioun,

Had never swich sorwe as I tho.

1250

I durste no more say therto

For pure fere, but stal away;

And thus I lived ful many a day.

That trewely, I hadde no need

Ferther than my beddes heed

1255

Never a day to seche sorwe;

I fond hit redy every morwe,

For-why I loved hir in no gere.

'So hit befel, another yere,

I thoughte ones I wolde fonde

1260

To do hir knowe and understonde

[319]

My wo; and she wel understood

That I ne wilned thing but good,

And worship, and to kepe hir name

Over al thing, and drede hir shame,

1265

And was so besy hir to serve;—

And pite were I shulde sterve,

Sith that I wilned noon harm, y-wis.

So whan my lady knew al this,

My lady yaf me al hoolly

1270

The noble yift of hir mercy,

Saving hir worship, by al weyes;

Dredles, I mene noon other weyes.

And therwith she yaf me a ring;

I trowe hit was the firste thing;

1275

But if myn herte was y-waxe

Glad, that is no need to axe!

As helpe me god, I was as blyve,

Reysed, as fro dethe to lyve,

Of alle happes the alder-beste,

1280

The gladdest and the moste at reste.

For trewely, that swete wight,

Whan I had wrong and she the right,

She wolde alwey so goodely

For-yeve me so debonairly.

1285

In alle my youthe, in alle chaunce,

She took me in hir governaunce.

'Therwith she was alway so trewe,

Our Ioye was ever y-liche newe;

Our hertes wern so even a payre,

1290

That never nas that oon contrayre

[320]

To that other, for no wo.

For sothe, y-liche they suffred tho

Oo blisse and eek oo sorwe bothe;

Y-liche they were bothe gladde and wrothe;

1295

Al was us oon, withoute were.

And thus we lived ful many a yere

So wel, I can nat telle how.'

'Sir,' quod I, 'wher is she now?'

Now!' quod he, and stinte anoon.

1300

Therwith he wex as deed as stoon,

And seyde, 'allas! that I was bore!

That was the los, that her-before

I tolde thee, that I had lorn.

Bethenk how I seyde her-beforn,

1305

"Thou wost ful litel what thou menest;

I have lost more than thou wenest"—

God wot, allas! right that was she!'

'Allas! sir, how? what may that be?'

She is deed!' 'Nay!' 'Yis, by my trouthe!'

1310

'Is that your los? by god, hit is routhe!'

And with that worde, right anoon,

They gan to strake forth; al was doon,

For that tyme, the hert-hunting.

With that, me thoghte, that this king

1315

Gan [quikly] hoomward for to ryde

Unto a place ther besyde,

Which was from us but a lyte,

A long castel with walles whyte,

By seynt Iohan! on a riche hil,

1320

As me mette; but thus it fil.

[321]

Right thus me mette, as I yow telle,

That in the castel was a belle,

As hit had smiten houres twelve.—

Therwith I awook my-selve,

1325

And fond me lying in my bed;

And the book that I had red,

Of Alcyone and Seys the king,

And of the goddes of sleping,

I fond it in myn honde ful even.

1330

Thoghte I, 'this is so queynt a sweven,

That I wol, by processe of tyme,

Fonde to putte this sweven in ryme

As I can best'; and that anoon.—

1334

This was my sweven; now hit is doon.

Explicit the Boke of the Duchesse.

The MSS. are: F. (Fairfax 16); Tn. (Tanner 346); B. (Bodley 638); the fourth authority is Th. (Thynne's edition of 1532). I follow F. mainly, and note all but very trifling variations from it. B. usually agrees with F.

Title: in F. 1. Tn. gret; F. grete. Th. by; F. Tn. be. 5. Tn. Th. defaute; F. defaulte. 6. All take no kepe. 8. Tn. Th. lefe (read leef); F. leve. 9. Tn. Th. good; F. goode. 10. Tn. Ioye; F. Ioy. 11, 12. F. no thynge, thynge. 14. All sorwful (badly); read sory. 15. F. hooly. 16. F. woote; Th. B. wote; Tn. wotte; read wite. 19. For To perhaps read Unto. F. ertherly (miswritten). 21. All be. 22. Th. Tn. B. ne (2nd time); F. no.

23. All this. 24. All drede. 25. Th. Tn. Defaute; F. Defaulte. 26. Th. slayne; Tn. slain; F. omits. 27. F. loste. Tn. omits ll. 31-96; F. has them in a later hand (the spelling of which I amend). 32. F. nathles whoe 33. F. trewly. 34. F. tell. 35. Th. sothe; F. southe (!) F. trewly. 36. F. hold it; Th. holde it; read hold-ë hit. F. sicknes. 38. F. boote. 39. Th. F. For ther. (phisicien = fízishén). F. one. 40. F. heale; done. 41. F. vntill efte. 42. F. mote. Th. nede; F. nedes. F. lefte. 43. F. mater. 44. Th. So whan; F. Soe when. F. sawe. 45. Th. Tyl nowe late: F. Til now late; but probably corrupt. 46. F. sate. 47. F. bade one. F. booke. 48. F. it; Th. he it. F. toke. 50. F. thought; beter. 51. F. play; Ten Brink reads playen. 52. F. written.

53. F. had. 56. F. While. Th. of; F. in (copied from line above). 57. F. boke. Th. spake; F. speake (read spak). 58. F. kings. 59. Th. smale: F. smalle. 60. Th. al; F. all. F. fonde. 61. F. thought. 62. F. There. 63. F. hight. Th. Seys; F. Seyes. F. had. F. wife. 64. Th. beste; F. best. F. might beare lyfe. 65. F. hight. 66. F. Soe it befill thereafter. 67. F. woll; Th. wol. 70. Perhaps read gan aryse. 71. F. brake. (hir=their). F. maste; fal. 72. Th. her; F. ther (see line above). F. dreint; all. 73. Th. F. founde (error for founden). 74. F. Borde. 75. Th. Seys; F. Seyes. F. life. 76. Th. F. Now for to speke of Alcyone his wyfe; read: Now for to speken of his wyf. F. wife. 79. Th. F. Home; it. 80. Th. Anon; F. Anone. Th. F. began (error for gan). Th. F. yerne (error for erme); see note.

81. F. thought. 82. F. It; wele; thought soe. Both her thought so, caught from l. 81; read he dwelte (delayed). 83. F. soe. 84. F. it. 85. F. tell. Th. hertely; F. hartely. F. life. 86. Th. F. she had; I omit she, and supply alas from l. 87. 87. Th. and F. insert alas after him. 88. F. Anone; sent. 91. F. where. 92. Th. nyl; F. will. F. eate breede. 94. Th. lorde; F. Lord. 95. F. toke. 96. F. trewly; booke. 97. The older hand recommences in F. F. had; Tn. I Had. F. suche (twice). F. pittee. 100. F. And aftir; but Th. Tn. B. omit And. 101. All this lady (for she; badly). 102. F. myght; lorde. 103. F. ofte; sayed. 104. F. woode. 105. F. rede. 106. F. doune; sate. 107. All wepte (read weep). F. pittee. 109. Th. to; which F. Tn. omit. 110. F. Helpe; B. Help.

112. F. Soone. Tn. B. wite; F. Th. wete. 114. F. yowe. 116. Th. Tn. B. good wyl; F. good wille (wil is here a monosyllable). 117. F. wilte. 118. Tn. Send; Th. F. Sende. 119. Th. som; F. somme. 120. Th. through; F. thorgh. F. knowe. 121. F. lorde; quyke; ded. 122. F. worde; henge; hed. 123. Th. Tn. fel; F. felle (see l. 128). F. A swowne, Tn. a swowe (for a-swowen = a-swown); Th. in a swowne. F. colde; Tn. cold. 124. F. kaught; anoon. 127. Tn. dede; F. ded. All slepe. 128. F. tooke. All kepe. 129. Th. Through; F. Throgh. F. herde. 130. I supply for. 131. Th. Tn. prayde; F. prayede; after which all insert right (but see next line). 134. F. come. 137, 138. All slepe, kepe. F. vnderstonde; take.

141. Tn. B. alle; F. al. 142. Th. He; F. Tn. That he. F. kynge. 144. Tn. B. Bid; F. Bud. 145. Th. Alcyone; F. Tn. Alchione. 146. Th. alone; F. allone. 149. After speke all insert right (see next line). 150. All woned. 151. Tn. on; F. a. 152. F. hye the. 153. F. toke; went. 154. Th. he (for ne). F. stent. 155. Tn. com; F. come. F. valey. 156. Th. bytwene; F. betwex; Tn. betwix. F. twey. 157. F. corne. 158, 159. All noght (for nothing). F. oughte. 162. F. dedely; Th. deedly; Tn. dedli. 166. F. There these; lay. 167. Th. F. B. Eclympasteyre (as in text); Tn. Etlympasteyre (with t for c). 168. Tn. heire; F. eyre. 169, 170. F. werke, derke.

171. Tn. pit; F. pitte. 173. F. To envye; Tn. Th. vie. 175. Tn. slepte; F. slept; see 177. Th. heed; F. hed. B. Tn. I-hid; Th. yhed; F. yhedde. 176. All lay. F. Tn. bedde. 177. F. slepe; Th. Tn. slepte. 178. F. com. Tn. flyyng; F. fleynge; Th. rennyng. 179. F. Tn. O how; Th. ho ho. F. awake. 180. F. there. 181. F. Awake; lythe. 182. F. horne. Tn. B. ere; F. heere. 184. Tn. oon; F. on. F. ye; Th. eye; Tn. eiȝe. 185. Th. Tn. Cast; F. Caste. All ins. and after up. 191. Th. wente; F. went. F. sayede; Tn. seide. 192. F. a-brayede; Tn. abraied. 195. F. Tooke; dreynt; see Cant. Ta. B. 69. 196. F. bare. Th. Alcione; F. Tn. Alchione. 197. F. wife. 199. Th. her; F. Tn. hys. F. fete; see note. 200. All hete.

201. F. sayede; wyfe. 202. F. Awake; lyfe. 203. F. there; rede. 204. I put nam; all have am. F. dede. 206. I supply look, for the sake of sense and metre; read—But good swet' hert-ë, look that ye. 207. All for suche; read at whiche. 210. F. pray; youre. 211. F. while oure. 213. All allas (for A). 214. F. deyede; Tn. deid. 215. F. sayede. Tn. swow; Th. B. swowe; F. sorowe (!). 216. F. nowe. 219. Tn. told; F. tolde. F. thynge. 220. Th. Alcione; F. Tn. Alchione. F. kynge. 221. All say. Tn. wel; F. welle. 222. Tn. eueridel; F. euerydelle. 223. F. thorgh. Tn. defaute; F. defaulte. All slepe. 224. Th. F. ne had (read nad); Tn. hade. Tn. red; F. redde. All take kepe. 226. F. omits I (by mistake). 228. F. redde. 229. F. kynge. 230. Th. goddes; F. Tn. goddis.

231. Tn. red; F. redde. 233. F. thoght. 234. Tn. herd; F. herde. 235. F. goddis. 236. I supply the former for. 237. I ne = I n'. 238. F. sayede. 239. F. pley. 240. F. dey. 241. F. Thorgh defaulte. Tn. sleping; F. slepynge. 244. Tn. sum; F. somme. F. ellis. F. roght; Th. Tn. rought. 245. Tn. som; F. some. 247. F. Yifte. F. abode. 248. B. on warde; rest onwarde. 251. F. yif (see l. 246). Tn. fethirbed; F. feder bedde. 252. Tn. cled; F. cledde. 253. Tn. fyn; F. fyne. Th. doutremere; Tn. doutermere; F. de owter mere. 254. Tn. pilow; F. pelowe. 257, 8. F. fallys, hallys.

264. All ins. quene after goddesse. Th. Alcione; F. Tn. Alchione. 267. All wanne (!). 269. F. payede. 270. Tn. woord; F. worde. F. y-sayede. 271. Th. Tn. B. as; which F. omits. Tn. told; F. tolde. 273. Tn. lust; F. luste. F. tooke. 274. F. booke. 275. F. evene. 276. F. swevene. 277. Tn. ȝit; F. yitte. 278. Th. trowe; F. trow; Tn. trov. 281. Th. Tn. B. he; F. ho. F. red; Th. Tn. rad (but read redde or radde). 282. F. metynge. 283. B. leste; F. lest. 285. Tn. wrot; F. wrote. 286. F. kynge. 288. Th. Suche meruayles fortuned than; F. Tn. B. omit this line.

291. F. thoght. 292. F. dawnynge. Th. there; rest om. 294. All And (for I). 295. Tn. gret; F. grete. 296. All insert my before slepe; it is not wanted. 297. F. Thorgh; swettenesse; songe. 298. Th. as; F. Tn. B. al (badly). F. amonge. 299. F. roofe. 300. All ouer al; but omit ouer. 301. All songe, song. 304. F. herde. Tn. B. som; F. somme. Tn. song; F. songe (it can be singular). 305. Tn. Som; F. Somme. F. high. 306. F. att. 307. F. harde; Tn. I-herd. 308. F. thynge. 309. F. soune. Th. Th. entunes; F. entewnes. 310. F. tewnes; Th. Tewnes; Tn. twnes. 311. F. herde. 313. F. Thorgh syngynge. 315. F. nowhere herde; halfe. 316. F. halfe. 318. Tn. ich; rest eche.

319. F. wrongly inserts of after out. F. notys. 320. F. throtys. 321. F. soothe. 323. F. y-glasyd. 324. F. hoole y-crasyd. 326. Tn. hoolly; F. holy. Tn. storie; F. story. 327. F. glasynge. 328. All and of king. 329. All repeat of king before Lamedon; the words were caught from l. 328. 330. All insert And eke before Of Medea. 331. All and of (for and). 332. Tn. colours; F. colouris. 334. All And; read Of. 335. Th. weren; F. were. Tn. shet; F. shette. 336. F. throgh. 337. F. bryght. 338. F. gilde; Th. B. gyldy; Tn. gilti; read gilden. 339. F. eke. F. welken; Th. Tn. welkyn. All faire. 340. F. ayre. 341. Th. atempre; F. Tn. attempre. 342. All ins. to bef. cold. F. colde; hoote. Th. nas; F. Tn. was. 343. F. welkene; Th. welkyn; Tn. walkyn. 345. F. thoght. 346. F. Tassay; horne.

347. Tn. B. hors; Th. F. horse. 348. All insert And at the beginning of the line; but read I herd-e. F. Th. goynge; Tn. goyng; after which all insert bothe (which is not wanted). 350. F. Th. speke; Tn. spake; but read speken. 355. F. huntynge. 357. I supply I. F. Tooke; forthe; went. 358. F. stent. 359. F. come; felde. 360. F. ouertoke; grete. 361. F. eke; foresterys. 362. F. lymerys. 364. Th. I; which F. Tn. omit. For at the perhaps read atte. 366. F. felowe whoo. All hunte (read hunten). 367. All answered (-id). 369. F. here fast. 370. Read goddes as god's. 373. F. didde. 374. F. huntynge fille. 375. F. fote hote. 376. F. blewe; mote.

377. F. vncoupylynge; Th. vncouplynge. 378. F. Withynne; while; herte. Th. F. founde; Tn. found; read y-founde. 380. All and so; om. so. 381. F. Tn. B. rused; Th. roused. F. staale. 383. Th. ouer-shot; F. ouershette; Tn. ouershet. Tn. hem; F. hym (wrongly). 384. Tn. on; F. vpon. Tn. defaute; F. defaulte. 386. F. Blewe. Th. Tn. forloyn; F. forleygne. Perhaps read atte for at the. 388. F. went; came. 389. F. whelpe. Th. fawned; F. Favned. F. stoode. 390. F. goode. 391. F. come. All have crepte (wrongly); read creep. 392. Tn. hade; F. had. 393. B. Hild; F. Hylde; Tn. Held. Th. heed; Tn. hed; F. hede. F. erys. 394. F. herys. 395. All haue; read han. 396. Tn. fledde; F. fled. 397. F. forthe went. 398. F. went. 399. All swete (correctly). 400. All fete; see 199. 402. Tn. bothe; F. both. 404. All made; read mad or maad. F dwellynge.

406. F. therthe; Th. the erthe. 408. F. moo; swche (sic). 409. Th. welken; F. walkene. F. sterris. 411. F. thorgh. 412. All suffre. 414. F. woode. 415. All made. 416. All nede eke. 417. F. Where there. 419. F. stoode. 420. Tn. ten; F. tene. Th. foote; F. fete; Tn. om. Th. or; F. Tn. fro other (repeated). 422. Th. Tn. B. Of; F. Or. Th. or; rest om. F. fedme; Th. fedome; Tn. fedim; read fadme. 424. Th. brode; F. Tn. bothe (wrongly). F. eke. 426. Tn. B. shadwe; F. shadewe. 427. Tn. hert; F. herte. 429. Th. fawnes; F. Tn. fovnes. F. Tn. sowres; Th. sowers. 430. Tn. wode; F. woode. 429, 430. B. doys, roys. 431. Th. squyrrels; F. sqwirels; Tn. squirels; B. squyrellys (three syllables). 432. F. high. 433. F. festys. 434. F. bestys.

435. Th. Tn. countour; F. counter (and so in l. 436). 437. F. Tn. rekene; Th. reken (caught from above); read rekened. F. figuris. 438. F. figuris. F. mowe; B. mow; Th. Tn. newe (reading doubtful). All have al ken; see note. 440. B. telle; rest tel. F. thinge. 441. F. evene. 442. F. swevene. 443. All ins. right bef. wonder. 444. F. Doune; woode. 446. Th. sate; F. Tn. sete. Tn. Iturned; F. turned. 447. F. ooke. 448. Th. Tn. thought; F. thogh (!). 450. F. went. 451. Tn. fond; F. founde. 452. F. farynge. 454. All but B. insert ryght before yong. Tn. ȝung; F. Th. yonge. 455. All yere; read yeer. 456. All heere, here; read heer. 457. Th. blacke; F. blake. 458. Tn. bakke; F. bake. 459. F. stoode. 460. F. sawe. 461. Tn. heng; F. henge. Th. heed; Tn. hed; F. hede. 462. Tn. dedly; F. dedely.

463. Th. Tn. twelue; F. twelfe. 464. Th. Tn. selue; F. selfe. 465. Tn. pite; F. pitee. 468. All suffre; read suffren. 469. F. suche. Th. deed; F. Tn. ded. 470. Tn. pitous; B. pitouse; F. petuose. Tn. nothing; F. no thynge. Th. reed; F. Tn. red. 471. F. sayed; Tn. said. 471, 2. Tn. song; F. songe. 473. B. alone supplies it (=hit); all insert ful before wel. 475. F. grete; Tn. gret. All wone; read woon. 476. F. Ioy; none. 477, 8. Read brighte, mighte? 479. Th. deed; F. ded. After l. 479 Thynne inserts And thus in sorowe lefte me alone; it is spurious; see note. [Hence there is no l. 480.] 481. Koch supplies o. Tn. deth; F. dethe. 483. Tn. that; which F. Tn. omit. 484. F. faire. F. freshe; Tn. fressh. 485. All se; but read y-see. 486. F. goodenesse. 487. All made. Th. B. complaynte; F. complaynt. 488. F. sorwful. Th. herte; F. hert. Th. B. faynte; F. faynt. 489. F. spiritis. 490. Tn. blood; F. bloode.

491. Th. herte; F. hert. All warme. 492. Th. herte; F. hert. All harme. 493. B. wite; F. wete. All eke. 498. All insert ther before no. F. noo bloode. All is; but read was. 499. Th. lymme; B. Tn. lyme; F. hym(!). 500. B. saw; F. saugh. 501. F. Th. there; Tn. for. All sete (fete is dat. pl.). 502. F. went; stoode. 503. All spake (wrongly). 504. Th. Tn. owne; F. ovne. 506. F. Th. lyfe; Tn. life. 507. F. thought. 509. F. throgh. B. sorwe; Tn. sorov; F. sorwes. 511. Tn. lost; F. loste. 512. F. inserts the before god; Th. Tn. omit. 513. F. wrothe. 514. Th. laste; F. last. F. sothe. 515. F. stoode. 516. All did. F. hoode. 517. All had ygret; Lange proposes grette (e unelided). 519. F. wrothe. 520. F. sothe.

521. B. saw; F. sawgh. F. trewly. 522. Tn. goode; F. good. 523, 4. F. oughte, thoughte. 526. F. thamendys. 527. F. lyeth; Tn. lith. 528. F. There. All myssayde. 529. Th. goodly; F. goodely. All spake (!). Th. knyght; F. knyghte. 530. B. ben; rest be. 531. F. towgh. 532. F. sawe; aqueynt. 533. F. fonde. 535. F. thoght. 537. F. oughte. 538. F. knowynge; thoughte. 541. F. These huntys konne. 543. F. there on; dele (Tn. del). 544. Tn. Bi; Th. By; F. Be. F. oure lorde; wele (Tn. wel). 545. B. thinketh; F. thenketh. 547. F. grete. 548. Ins. good; see 714, 721. Th. Tn. if; F. yif. 550. F. wys; Th. wyse; Tn. wisse.

554. Th. al; F. alle; Tn. om. 556. B. ese; F. ease. 560. Tn. frend; F. frende. 564. All fal. 565. F. vnderstondynge lorne. 566. F. borne. 568. F. Th. ins. al (Tn. of) before the. 570. All ins. his after with. 571. All ins. no after may. 573. Th. Tn. houres; F. oures. 574. All assay. 575. B. Th. herte; F. Tn. hert. 577. F. wrechch; Tn. wrecch; Tn. wretche (for wrecche). All made. 578. F. al; Th. Tn. al the; B. alle (read al-le). 579. B. alle; rest al. 581. All lyfe. F. loothe. 582. F. wroothe (it is plural). 583. All ins. ful after so. F. foo. 584. All That; read Thogh. F. soo.

586. For the former hit, all have him; but see line above. 587. Th. reed; F. rede. 588. F. deynge. Th. deed; F. dede. 589. F. B. Thesiphus; Tn. Tesiphus; Th. Tesyphus. (The two latter are miswritten for Cesiphus = Sesiphus). Tn. lithe; F. Th. lyeth. 591. Th. Tn. al; F. alle. Th. by; F. Tn. be. 592. Tn. hade; F. had. 594. Tn. feenli (sic); Th. F. fendely. 596. Tn. met; Th. F. mette (!); read y-met. 598. B. telle; rest tel. 599. For song, F. Th. have sorowe, and Tn. has sorov, which are absurd; the reading is obviously song, the ng being altered to rowe by influence of l. 597, which the scribes glanced at. Tn. pleynyng; F. pleynynge. 600. Tn. laughter; F. lawghtre. Tn. weping; F. wepynge. 601. F. thoghtys. 603. All eke. 604. Th. Tn. good; F. goode. All harme. 605. Th. playeng; F. pleynge. 606. F. sorwynge. 607. Tn. sekenes; F. sekeenesse (sic). 609. Tn. liȝt; F. lyghte; Th. syght. 610. Tn. wit; F. wytte. Th. Tn. nyght; F. nyghte.

611. All slepe. Tn. waking; F. wakynge. 612. Tn. fasting; F. fastynge. 614. Tn. abaved (sic); Th. F. abawed. All where so. 617. Tn. boldnes; Th. F. boldenesse. (Perhaps read y-turned.) 618. F. pleyde; Th. played; Tn. pleied. 619. F. Atte the (wrongly); Th. Tn. At the. Tn. ches; Th. F. chesse. 621. Tn. halt; F. Th. halte (!). 622. Tn. goth; Th. gothe; F. gethe (!). Th. halte; Tn. is halt; F. is halte. 627. Th. wrien; rest varien (!). 628. Th. Tn. monstres; F. Mowstres. Th. heed; F. Tn. hed. 629. B. filth; rest fylthe. Th. Tn. ystrowed. 630. F. worshippe. Th. Tn. floures; F. B. flourys; read flour is. 632. Tn. feith; F. feythe. 633. F. lawghynge. 634. Tn. oon; Th. F. one. Th. eye; Tn. eiȝ; F. yghe; B. ye. F. wepynge. 635. Th. set; F. sette. 637. F. flateyrynge; Tn. flateryng. 639. Th. Tn. amyd; F. amydde. 640. Th. he; F. hyt; Tn. it.

642. F. thenvyouse; Tn. thenvious; Th. the enuyous. 644. Th. false; F. Tn. fals. 645. F. no thynge. 647. Th. Ful; rest For. F. thus she; Tn. Th. she thus. 649. Th. nat; F. Tn. not. 650. Th. false; F. Tn. fals. Th. F. thefe; Tn. knaue. 651. F. oure lorde; the sey. 652. All At the; Atte is better. Tn. ches; Th. F. chesse. F. pley. 653. Th. Tn. false; F. fals. 654. F. staale; toke. F. Tn. fers; Th. feers. 655. F. sawgh. B. a-waye; rest away. 656. B. pleye; Th. F. play; Tn. pley. 657. All farewel (farewell); and in l. 658. 660. All insert the after in (badly). 661. F. povne; Tn. poun; Th. paune. Tn. erraunt; F. errante. 663. Tn. Athalaus. 664. Tn. ches; Th. F. chesse. 666. B. I-koude; Th. Tn. Iconde (!); F. y-konde (!); see l. 667. 667. Tn. Grek; F. Greke. Th. Pithagores; F. Tn. Pictagoras. 668. Tn. pleyd; F. pleyde.

670. Tn. thogh; Th. thoughe; F. thoght (sic). F. trewly. 671. F. holde; wysshe. 675. All eke. B. las; F. lasse; Tn. lesse. 676. F. -selfe. 677. Th. had I ben; F. as I be (wrongly). 678. F. oght. 681. All she my fers; read my fers she (Koch). All kaught, read caughte; and dranghte in ll. 682, 685. 683. Tn. wis; F. wys. 684. Th. she; F. Tn. B. he. F. tooke. 685. F. throgh; draught; lorne. 686. F. borne. 689. F. doone. 690. F. Be oure lorde; soone. 691. F. -thynge. I supply ne. 693. All For there (ther); but omit For. 694. F. ayre. 695. F. yifte. 696. F. wepynge.

699. Tn. lyth; F. lyeth. F. rekenynge. 700. Th. Tn. In; F. Inne. 701. F. levyth noe. 702. B. Tn. glade; F. glad; read gladde. 703. Th. lost; F. loste. 710. Tn. telle; F. tel. 711. Th. Tn. Thus; F. This. 712. F. myght; duelle. 713. Tn. dide, herte; F. dyd, hert. 714. Th. good; F. goode. 715. Tn. som; F. somme. 721. All insert yis (or yes) before parde; which spoils both sense and metre. 722. Th. say; rest om. F. trewly. 723. Th. lost; F. loste. 726. Th. good; F. goode. 727. Tn. slowe; F. slowgh. 728. All also; read als. 729. F. Henge.

732. All the quene; omit the. All eke. 733. Tn. slow; F. slough. F. selfe. 734. I supply former a. F. foole. 735. All Ecquo. 739. Tn. slow; F. slough. F. hym-selfe. 740. All no man; but read noon. 741. Perhaps read maken. 743. F. woste; menyst. 744. Th, lost; F. loste. F. thow wenyst. 745. F. Tn. Loo she that may be; Th. Howe that may be; here she is an error for sir, and Howe that may be for how may that be; (ed. 1550 has Howe may that be). 746. All sir. F. Tn. telle; Th. tel. F. hooly. 749. F. come. Tn. sit; F. sytte. 750. F. inserts hyt after telle; which Th. Tn. omit. Th. Tn. vpon a; F. vp a; but vp is right. 751. All ins. shalt after thou; omit it (Koch). F. hooly. Tn. wit; Th. wyt; F. wytte. 752. Tn. hit; F. hitte (!). 754. F. Tn. here lo; Th. here to. Accent thér- and hér-. 755. Perhaps right should be omitted. 756. F. Hooly. 758. B. half; F. halfe; (goddes = god's).

760. Tn. wit; F. wytte. 761. F. vnderstondynge. 763. Tn. wit; F. wytte. 764. Tn. yit; F. yitte. 765. Tn. youen; F. yive. 766. F. hooly. 767, 768. Th. thral, al; F. thralle, alle. Th. wyl; F. wille. 771. All deuoutely. All insert I before prayde. Th. prayde; F. prayed. 772. Th. Tn. herte; F. hert. 773. F. plesance; see l. 767. 774. F. worshippe. 775, 6. All yere, owhere. 778. Tn. cam; F. came. 779. F. Perauenture; see l. 788. All insert moste before able. 780. F. white walle. 781. F. cachche. 783. F. Tn. Whethir; Th. Whether; read Wher (contracted form). F. portrey or peynt; Tn. purtrey or paynte. 784. Tn. queynte; F. queynt. 785. All insert ryght before so. 787. Th. Tn. conde (for coude); F. kende (for kenned). 788. All arte.

789. Tn. kam; F. came. 790. All forgate. 791. Th. chees; Tn. chese; F. ches. Tn. fyrste; F. first. All crafte (but it will not rime). 792. All lafte (wrongly); read y-laft. 793. All For-why; read For? All toke. All yonge. 795. F. no thynge. 796. F. Thorgh. Tn. knowlechynge; F. knowlachynge. 799. Tn. firste; F. first. 800. F. goode; Th. good. 801. F. Tn. flyttynge. 802. All ins. That tyme (see l. 797) bef. And. Tn. thoughten; rest thoght. F. Tn. varyinge. 804. F. knewe; stoode. 805. F. came. Perhaps on (or a) should be omitted. 806. All ther that I; om. that. 808. F. euere. F. Tn. ye; Th. eye. 810. Tn. hap; F. happe. 811. F. broght; Tn. broghte. All there. 813. Tn. false; F. fals. 816. Tn. telle; F. tel. 817. F. Amonge these. 818. I supply ther.

819. All lyke (like). I supply al. 821. Tn. bryght; F. bryghte. 822. Th. lyght; F. lyghte. 823. All any other planete in; see note. F. hevene. 824. F. sevene. 826. Th. Tn. Surmounted; F. Surmountede. Tn. B. alle; F. al. 828. All ins. of after and. F. ins. so before wel; which Th. Tn. omit. Th. Tn. set; F. sette. 829. Th. goodlyhede; F. godelyhede. All ins. and before so, probably caught from the line above. B. beseye; rest besey. 830. Th. supplies more; F. Tn. omit. All sey. 831. Th. Tn. his; F. omits. 832. Tn. as; Th. F. al. 833. Th. stedfast; F. stedfaste. 835. F. Tn. had wel herd; om. wel. 838. F. y-kaught; Th. I cought; Tn. I caughte. 839. All toke. 840. All counseyl; I propose reed. All loke. 841. Th. And; F. Tn. But (caught from l. 840). Th. Tn. herte; F. hest (wrongly). All for why; read for? 842. F. hert; Th. Tn. herte. 843. F. ovne; read owne. 844. F. beter; Th. better; Tn. bettyr; read bet. 846. Tn. B. soth; F. Th. sothe.

848. Tn. saw; F. sawgh. F. comelely; Th. comely; Tn. comly. 850. F. Lawghe; pley. 852. Th. goodly; F. goodely. 854. Tn. seyn; F. seyne. 855. All on; read upon. 856. Tn. seyn; F. seyne. (For was probably read nas.) 857. F. yelowe; broune. 858. F. Tn. thoght. Th. F. lyke; Tn. likely. Th. golde; which F. Tn. absurdly omit. 861. F. goode. 862. F. looke. 863. F. ouertwert; Tn. ouyrthwerte; Th. ouertwhart (sic). Th. beset; Tn. biset; F. besette. 864. F. Tn. drewh. F. tooke. All enerydele. 865. Tn. B. Alle; F. Th. Al. 867. F. foolys; B. folys. 869. F. thynge. 870. F. lokynge. 873. Th. close; Tn. clos; F. cloos. 874. F. lokynge. Th. folyche. 876. Tn. thoghte; F. thoght.

877. Th. By; F. Tn. Be. 882. Th. trowe; F. Tn. trow. 883. Th. herte; Tn. hyrte; F. hert. 884. All sate. B. lyte; Tn. lite; F. litel. Th. Tn. herte; F. hert. 885. Tn. knew; F. knowe (sic). F. no thynge. 886. This line is in Th. only; Th. has knewe (twice). 887. Tn. roghte; Th. F. rought. 888. Tn. ner; F. nerre. F. was; Th. Tn. nas. 889. Th. than; Tn. then; F. that. 891. Tn. gode; Th. F. good. All folke. 893. F. wounder. 894. F. placis. 895. All But which; omit But. 898. Th. bothe; F. both. 900. All eke. B. spyritz; F. spiritis. 901. All grete a thynge. 902. Th. wyt; Tn. F. witte. 903. Th. F. comprehende; Tn. comprehend; read comprehenden. 904. Tn. seyn; F. sayn. 905. All insert white after Was, which spoils metre and story (see l. 948). F. fressh.

908. Th. Tn. certes; F. certys. 909. All faire or fayre. 910, 911. B. chief; rest chefe. Th. Tn. patron; F. patrone. 913. F. thynkyth. 914. Tn. B. alle; Th. F. al (it is plural). 916. I supply They; Th. Ne wolde haue; Tn. Ne sholde haue; F. Ne sholde ha. The right reading is They ne sholde have (They ne being read as They n'). 919. Th. goodly; F. goodely. 921. Th. frendly; F. frendely. 922. F. B. Vp; Th. Tn. Vpon; see l. 750. 923. Tn. B. alle; F. al. Tn. gode; F. goode. 924. After swere all insert wel (needlessly). Tn. rode; F. roode. 929. Th. Tn. pope; F. Pape. 930. All ins. yet after never. Th. through; F. throgh. 931. F. gretely. 932. Th. Tn. her; F. hit (sic). I supply ther (cf. l. 930); perhaps omitted, because her also ended in her. All harme. 933. F. flaterynge; word. [322]

937. All dele. 938. All worlde; wele. 939. All fairenesse (fayrenes). 941. Th. Tn. B. sene; F. seen. Th. F. myssatte; Tn. missate. 942. All badly insert pure (dissyllabic) before flat; but smothe has two syllables. Tn. flat; Th. F. flatte. 943. All or; I read and. 944. Th. by; rest be. 946. All rounde. Th. tour; F. Tn. toure. 947. Th. good; E. goode. F. gretenesse; grete. 948. B. het; rest hete. 949. Th. right; F. ryghte. 950. All faire. Th. bright; F. bryghte. 951. All had (but it is emphatic). All wronge. 952. All longe. 953. All had. 954. Th. great; F. Tn. grete. 957. Tn. bak; F. bakke. 958. B. knyw; rest knewe. All noon other; perhaps read no maner. Tn. lak; F. lakke. 959. All insert pure (dissyllabic) after nere; but limmes is dissyllabic. 960. Tn. fer; F. ferre. F. knowynge. 961. Th. playe; F. pley. 962. Tn. liste; F. list. Th. saye; F. sey.

963. All lyke. 965. F. hathe. 969. Tn. cacche; F. cachche. Th. Tn. if; F. yif (and in l. 970). 971. All swere wel; read sweren (omitting the expletive wel). 972. All thousande. 973. F. lest. 974. B. chieff; rest chefe. Th. Tn. myrrour; F. meroure. Th. Tn. feste; F. fest. 975. Th. F. stonde; read stonden. 976. Th. that; which Tn. F. omit. 977. Tn. B. pleyd; F. pleyed. 978. F. thoght. Th. felaushyp; Tn. feliship; F. felysshyppe. 979. Tn. saw; F. sawgh. 981. Th. F. Trewly; Tn. Truly. B. ye; Th. F. eye (note the rime). 982. Th. Tn. soleyn; F. soleyne. 983. Th. lyueth; F. levyth. 984. Tn. knew; rest knowe. 985. Th. goodnesse; F. godenesse. 988. Th. Tn. if; F. yif. 989. Tn. F. seyn; Th. sayne. F. alle. 990. Tn. wit; F. wytte. Th. general; F. generalle. 991. F. hoole. 992. All wytte.

994. All And thereto; but And is needless. F. sawgh. 995. Th. Harmful; F. Harmeful. 996. For ne had perhaps read nad. 997. I transpose; all have What harme was (but harm is monosyllabic, and the line is then bad). 998. Tn. F. coude. Th. thynketh; F. thenketh. 1000. F. had hadde hyt hadde. 1001. All dele. 1002. All wele. 1003. F. al and alle. 1004. Th. principal; F. principalle. 1007. F. stedefaste. 1008. Th. Tn. B. attempre; F. atempry. 1009. Tn. knew; F. knewe. Tn. yit; F. yitte. 1010. Tn. wit; F. wytte. 1011. F. vnderstoode. 1012. F. goode. 1016. All wronge. 1019. Tn. luste; F. lust 1020. All wolde not; an error for nolde (Koch). 1022. All halfe worde.

1025. Th. F. pruyse; Tn. pruse; B. sprewse. 1027. Th. bydde; F. bid. 1028. Th. hoodlesse; F. hoodeles. All in-to; read to. 1029. B. hom; rest home. Tn. Carrynare. 1030. F. Tn. sey; Th. omits. 1032. F. Worshyppe. 1034. F. wherfore. Tn. telle; F. tel. 1035. All seyde (sayde). 1036. F. hooly. All leyde (layde). 1037. All wyfe (wife). 1038. All luste. All lyfe (life). 1039. Tn. F. happe; Th. hope. 1040. F. worldys. I substitute lisse for goddesse; see note. 1041. F. hooly hires and; Th. Tn. holy hers and; B. hooly hyres. 1042. F. oure. 1043. Th. beset; F. besette; Tn. yset. 1044. F. myght haue doo bette. 1045. Th. Tn. Bet; F. Bette. F. wele. 1046. F. hit wel sir; Th. Tn. om. hit wel. 1047. F. sire. 1048. All trewly. 1049. Th. Tn. beste; F. best. 1050. Tn. fayreste; F. fayrest. 1051. All ins. her after loked. 1052. Tn. B. alle; F. al.

1053. All swore; read sworen. 1054. Perhaps read nadde. 1056. F. had hadde (better hadde had). 1057. All Alcipyades. 1060. Th. Tn. Alisaundre; F. Alisaunder. ? omit al or the. 1064. Th. therto; F. Tn. to (see 1059). Th. Tn. al so; F. also as. 1066. Tn. slow; F. slough. 1067. Tn. therfor; F. ther fore. 1069. Tn. slayn; F. slayne. Th. Tn. Antilegius; F. Antylegyus. 1071. I supply hir. 1074. Tn. moste; F. most. 1075. All insert trewly after nay; we must omit it. 1075, 6. F. nowe, howe. 1077. Th. good; F. goode. F. hert. 1078. All eke. 1081. All ins. was after ever. Th. Penelope; F. Penelopee; Tn. penelapie; read Pénelóp'. 1082. All wyfe (wife).

1083: Th. beste; F. best. 1084: Tn. romayn; F. Romayne. 1088: All wherfore. 1089: F. firste. Th. sey; F. say. 1090: All yonge. I supply the. 1091: F. grete nede. 1093: F. grete. 1094: All wytte. Tn. best; F. beste. 1095: All yonge. F. childely wytte. 1097: B. beste; rest best. 1098: F. worshippe. Th. F. insert the before servyse; but Tn. omits. 1099: All coude tho; read tho coude. Tn. by; F. be. 1100: F. Feynynge. 1101: Tn. fayn; F. feyne. 1103: Tn. saw; F. sawgh. 1104: Th. warysshed; F. Tn. warshed. 1106: F. thoght. 1108: Tn. sit; Th. syt; F. sytte. Th. Tn. in; F. om. 1110: Th. out; Tn. F. oute. 1111: All trewly.

1114. All shrifte (shryfte). 1117. Tn. certes; F. certis. 1118. Tn. Achitofell; F. Achetofel. 1120. Tn. traytour; F. traytore. Tn. F. B. betraysed; Th. betrayed. 1121. Th. false; F. fals. All Genellon. 1123. Tn. rowland; F. Rowlande. 1124. All while (whyle). 1126. F. good; Tn. gode. I supply right. 1127. All tolde. B. her-; F. here-. 1128. All nede. F. Th. Tn. insert to after need; B. omits it. Tn. hit; Th. it; F. om. 1129. Tn. sawe; F. sawgh. Th. first; F. firste. 1130. Tn. telle; F. tel. 1131. Tn. her; F. hire. B. firste; rest first. 1133. All knewe (subjunctive). 1135. All eke. 1136. Tn. her-; F. here-. 1137. Tn. seyde he; F. he seyde. F. menyst. 1138. F. wenyst. 1139. Tn. los; F. losse. I supply sir. 1141. F. doon; Tn. Th. done (read y-doon). 1142. F. bathe lefte.

1143. Th. tel; F. telle. Th. al; F. alle. 1144. Th. shal; F. shalle. 1145. All say. Tn. seyd; F. seyde. 1146. Tn. leyd; F. leyde. 1147. All needlessly insert not (or nat) after hit. 1150. F. tel. 1153. Tn. herte; F. hert. 1154. Th. asterte; F. astert. 1155. Omit But for? F. ins. so before fro; Tn. Th. omit. 1158. All songe. 1159. F. Th. Tn. ins. this (B. thus) before a. F. grete dele. 1160. All wele. 1161. Th. Tn. ne; B. to; F. the (!). F. knowe (infin.); Tn. know; Th. knewe (wrongly). All the arte; perhaps read that art. 1162. Th. Lamekes; F. lamekys. Th. Tubal; F. Tuballe; Tn. B. Tuballe. 1163. B. fonde; rest founde. Th. first; F. firste. All songe. 1164. Tn. brothers; F. brothres. 1165. Th. anuelt; Tn. anuelte; F. Anuelet. Tn. doun; F. doon. 1166. F. tooke. B. fyrste; rest first. Tn. soune; F. soon. 1167. Th. of Pithagoras. 1168. Tn. fyrste; F. first. 1169. All arte.

1171. F. Algatis. 1172. F. felynge; hert 1173. Th. this; F. Tn. thus. I supply the. Tn. firste; F. first. 1174. Th. werst; Tn. F. repeat first. I supply that. 1175. All Lorde. Tn. herte; F. hert. 1178. All myght (might). 1180. All faire (fayre). 1181. All tolde. Tn. soth; F. sothe. All say. 1182. Tn. firste; F. first. All songe; all day. 1183. Tn. bethoghte; F. bethoght. 1185. F. wyst. 1186. Tn. telle; F. tel. All durst. 1187. Tn. thoghte; F. thoght. F. rede. 1188. All am; grammar requires nam. F. dede. 1189. Tn. if; F. yif. All sey (say), after which ryght is needlessly inserted; I omit it. Tn. soth; F. sothe. 1190. Tn. wroth; F. wrothe. 1192. All debate. 1193. Tn. thoghte; F. thoght. F. brast; Th. Tn. braste (subj.). Tn. a tweyn; F. a tweyne. 1194. All at the; read atte. Tn. seyn; F. sayne. 1195. All bethoght (bethought) me. 1197. All trewly or truly. 1198. F. wyth oute; read withouten.

1201. F. nedys; Mawgree. Th. heed; F. hede. 1202. Tn. moste; F. most. All tolde. Th. deed; F. dede. 1203. Th. began; F. beganne (!). 1204. All reherse or reherce; but read rehersen. 1205, 6. All eke. Th. -al, dismal; F. Tn. -alle, dismalle. 1208. All worde. 1210. F. wordys. Tn. mysset; F. mys sette. 1212. F. quakynge. 1213. F. styntynge. 1215. Tn. wex; F. wexe. Th. reed; F. rede. 1216. F. Bowynge. Th. heed; F. hede. 1218. Tn. wit; F. witte. All maner. 1220. All sate (!). 1221. All at the; read atte. Tn. soth; F. sothe. Tn. seyn; F. seyne. 1222. Tn. herte; F. hert. Tn. agayn; F. ageyne. 1223. Th. shortly; F. shortely. Th. al; Tn. B. alle; F. at (!). 1226. All swore (!). 1228. F. fresshly.

1230. F. worshippe. 1231. All swore or swere(!). 1232. Th. al; F. alle. 1234. All ins. to before false. 1235. Tn. wisse; F. wysse; B. wys. 1237. All wote (!). 1238. Tn. thoghte; F. thoght. 1239. All ins. ryght before as. 1242. F. wordys. 1244. Th. Al; F. Alle. 1248. Th. Troye; F. Troy. 1250. Tn. durste; F. durst. 1251. F. stale. 1253. All trewly. All nede. 1254. All hede. 1256. All fonde or founde.

1261. F. vnderstode. 1262. Th. thyng; F. Tn. B. no thynge; but no is not required by idiom or metre. All goode, gode. 1263. F. worshippe. 1264. All al (or alle) thynges; but al thing is the right idiom. Th. drede; Tn. to drede; F. dred. 1266. For And read That (Lange). 1267. All harme. 1268. Tn. knew; F. knewe. 1269. F. hooly. 1270. F. yifte. 1271. F. Savynge hir worshippe. 1273. All rynge (!). 1274. Tn. firste; F. first. Th. thyng; F. thynge. 1275. Tn. if; F. yif. Tn. herte; F. hert. 1276. Tn. Glad; F. Gladde. All nede. 1279. Tn. alle; F. al. 1281. All trewly (treuly). 1282. Th. Tn. B. the; which F. omits. 1284. Th. debonairly; F. debonairely. 1285. Tn. B. alle (first time); the rest al. B. alle (second time); rest al. 1286. F. tooke. 1289. F. Oure. Th. F. werne; Tn. weren. Th. euen; F. evene. 1290. Th. Tn. contrayre; F. contrarye.

1293. All eke. 1294. All glad. 1300. Tn. B. wex; F. waxe; Th. woxe. Th. deed; F. dede. 1302. Tn. los; F. losse. 1303. F. hadde; rest had. All lorne (!). 1304. F. Bethenke. F. herebeforne. 1305. F. menyst. 1306. F. wenyst. 1307. F. wote. 1309. Th. deed; F. ded. Tn. bi; F. be. 1310. F. youre. Tn. los; F. losse. Th. by; F. be. 1312. Read rather They gonne forth straken (or striken). 1313. Th. hart; F. Tn. herte (!). 1314. F. thoght; kynge. 1315. I supply quikly; the line is too short. 1316. All insert was after place. 1318. All longe. F. wallys. 1319. Th. Tn. By; F. Be. Th. hyl; F. Tn. hille. 1320. Th. fyl; F. Tn. fille (!).

1322. F. castell. All ins. ther before was. 1323. Th. smytte; F. Tn. smyte; read smiten (pp.). Th. houres; F. oures. 1324. F. awooke. 1325. All fonde or founde. F. lyinge. Tn. bed; F. bedde. 1326. F. booke. Tn. had red; F. hadde redde. 1327. Th. Alcyone; F. Alchione. F. kynge. 1328. F. goddys of slepynge. 1329. Tn. euyn; F. evene. 1330. Tn. Thoghte; F. Thoght. Tn. sweuyn; F. sweuene. 1331. Th. by; F. be. 1332. All put. Tn. sweuyn; F. sweuene. 1334. Tn. sweuyn; F. sweuene. Colophon; so in F. B.

The Proem.

Gladeth, ye foules, of the morow gray,

Lo! Venus risen among yon rowes rede!

And floures fresshe, honoureth ye this day;

For when the sonne uprist, then wol ye sprede.

But ye lovers, that lye in any drede,

Fleëth, lest wikked tonges yow espye;

Lo! yond the sonne, the candel of Ielosye!

With teres blewe, and with a wounded herte

Taketh your leve; and, with seynt Iohn to borow,

Apeseth somwhat of your sorowes smerte,

Tyme cometh eft, that cese shal your sorow;

The glade night is worth an hevy morow!'—

(Seynte Valentyne! a foul thus herde I singe

Upon thy day, er sonne gan up-springe).—

[324]

Yet sang this foul—'I rede yow al a-wake,

And ye, that han not chosen in humble wyse,

Without repenting cheseth yow your make.

And ye, that han ful chosen as I devyse,

Yet at the leste renoveleth your servyse;

Confermeth it perpetuely to dure,

And paciently taketh your aventure.

And for the worship of this hye feste,

Yet wol I, in my briddes wyse, singe

The sentence of the compleynt, at the leste,

That woful Mars made atte departinge

Fro fresshe Venus in a morweninge,

Whan Phebus, with his fyry torches rede,

Ransaked every lover in his drede.

The Story.

¶ Whylom the thridde hevenes lord above,

As wel by hevenish revolucioun

As by desert, hath wonne Venus his love,

And she hath take him in subieccioun,

And as a maistresse taught him his lessoun,

Comaunding him that never, in hir servyse,

He nere so bold no lover to despyse.

For she forbad him Ielosye at alle,

And cruelte, and bost, and tirannye;

She made him at hir lust so humble and talle,

That when hir deyned caste on him her yë,

He took in pacience to live or dye;

And thus she brydeleth him in hir manere,

With no-thing but with scourging of hir chere.

[325]

Who regneth now in blisse but Venus,

That hath this worthy knight in governaunce?

Who singeth now but Mars, that serveth thus

The faire Venus, causer of plesaunce?

He bynt him to perpetual obeisaunce,

And she bynt hir to loven him for ever,

But so be that his trespas hit dissever.

Thus be they knit, and regnen as in heven

By loking most; til hit fil, on a tyde,

That by hir bothe assent was set a steven,

That Mars shal entre, as faste as he may glyde,

Into hir nexte paleys, to abyde,

Walking his cours til she had him a-take,

And he preyde hir to haste hir for his sake.

Then seyde he thus—"myn hertes lady swete,

Ye knowe wel my mischef in that place;

For sikerly, til that I with yow mete,

My lyf stant ther in aventure and grace;

But when I see the beaute of your face,

Ther is no dreed of deth may do me smerte,

For al your lust is ese to myn herte."

She hath so gret compassion of hir knight,

That dwelleth in solitude til she come;

For hit stood so, that ilke tyme, no wight

Counseyled him, ne seyde to him welcome,

That nigh hir wit for wo was overcome;

Wherfore she spedde hir as faste in hir weye,

Almost in oon day, as he dide in tweye.

[326]

The grete Ioye that was betwix hem two,

Whan they be met, ther may no tunge telle,

Ther is no more, but unto bed they go,

And thus in Ioye and blisse I let hem dwelle;

This worthy Mars, that is of knighthod welle,

The flour of fairnes lappeth in his armes,

And Venus kisseth Mars, the god of armes.

Soiourned hath this Mars, of which I rede,

In chambre amid the paleys prively

A certeyn tyme, til him fel a drede,

Through Phebus, that was comen hastely

Within the paleys-yates sturdely,

With torche in honde, of which the stremes brighte

On Venus chambre knokkeden ful lighte.

The chambre, ther as lay this fresshe quene,

Depeynted was with whyte boles grete,

And by the light she knew, that shoon so shene,

That Phebus cam to brenne hem with his hete;

This sely Venus, dreynt in teres wete,

Enbraceth Mars, and seyde, "alas! I dye!

The torch is come, that al this world wol wrye."

Up sterte Mars, him liste not to slepe,

Whan he his lady herde so compleyne;

But, for his nature was not for to wepe,

In stede of teres, fro his eyen tweyne

The fyry sparkes brosten out for peyne;

And hente his hauberk, that lay him besyde;

Flee wolde he not, ne mighte him-selven hyde.

[327]

He throweth on his helm of huge wighte,

100

And girt him with his swerde; and in his honde

His mighty spere, as he was wont to fighte,

He shaketh so that almost it to-wonde;

Ful hevy he was to walken over londe;

He may not holde with Venus companye,

105

But bad hir fleen, lest Phebus hir espye.

O woful Mars! alas! what mayst thou seyn,

That in the paleys of thy disturbaunce

Art left behinde, in peril to be sleyn?

And yet ther-to is double thy penaunce,

110

For she, that hath thyn herte in governaunce,

Is passed halfe the stremes of thyn yën;

That thou nere swift, wel mayst thou wepe and cryen.

Now fleeth Venus un-to Cylenius tour,

With voide cours, for fere of Phebus light.

115

Alas! and ther ne hath she no socour,

For she ne fond ne saw no maner wight;

And eek as ther she had but litil might;

Wher-for, hir-selven for to hyde and save,

Within the gate she fledde into a cave.

120

Derk was this cave, and smoking as the helle,

Not but two pas within the gate hit stood;

A naturel day in derk I lete hir dwelle.

Now wol I speke of Mars, furious and wood;

For sorow he wolde have seen his herte blood;

125

Sith that he mighte hir don no companye,

He ne roghte not a myte for to dye.

[328]

So feble he wex, for hete and for his wo,

That nigh he swelt, he mighte unnethe endure;

He passeth but oo steyre in dayes two,

130

But ner the les, for al his hevy armure,

He foloweth hir that is his lyves cure;

For whos departing he took gretter yre

Thanne for al his brenning in the fyre.

After he walketh softely a pas,

135

Compleyning, that hit pite was to here.

He seyde, "O lady bright, Venus! alas!

That ever so wyde a compas is my spere!

Alas! whan shal I mete yow, herte dere,

This twelfte day of April I endure,

140

Through Ielous Phebus, this misaventure."

Now god helpe sely Venus allone!

But, as god wolde, hit happed for to be,

That, whyl that Venus weping made hir mone,

Cylenius, ryding in his chevauchè,

145

Fro Venus valance mighte his paleys see,

And Venus he salueth, and maketh chere,

And hir receyveth as his frend ful dere.

Mars dwelleth forth in his adversite,

Compleyning ever on hir departinge;

150

And what his compleynt was, remembreth me;

And therfore, in this lusty morweninge,

As I best can, I wol hit seyn and singe,

And after that I wol my leve take;

And God yeve every wight Ioye of his make!

[329]

The compleynt of Mars.

The Proem of the Compleynt.

155

¶ The ordre of compleynt requireth skilfully,

That if a wight shal pleyne pitously,

There mot be cause wherfor that men pleyne;

Or men may deme he pleyneth folily

And causeles; alas! that am not I!

160

Wherfor the ground and cause of al my peyne,

So as my troubled wit may hit ateyne,

I wol reherse; not for to have redresse,

But to declare my ground of hevinesse.

Devotion.

¶ The firste tyme, alas! that I was wroght,

165

And for certeyn effectes hider broght

By him that lordeth ech intelligence,

I yaf my trewe servise and my thoght,

For evermore—how dere I have hit boght!—

To hir, that is of so gret excellence,

170

That what wight that first sheweth his presence,

When she is wroth and taketh of him no cure,

He may not longe in Ioye of love endure.

This is no feyned mater that I telle;

My lady is the verrey sours and welle

175

Of beaute, lust, fredom, and gentilnesse,

Of riche aray—how dere men hit selle!—

Of al disport in which men frendly dwelle,

Of love and pley, and of benigne humblesse,

Of soune of instruments of al swetnesse;

180

And therto so wel fortuned and thewed,

That through the world hir goodnesse is y-shewed.

[330]

What wonder is then, thogh that I besette

My servise on suche oon, that may me knette

To wele or wo, sith hit lyth in hir might?

185

Therfor my herte for ever I to hir hette;

Ne trewly, for my dethe, I shal not lette

To ben hir trewest servaunt and hir knight.

I flater noght, that may wite every wight;

For this day in hir servise shal I dye;

190

But grace be, I see hir never with yë.

A Lady in fear and woe.

¶ To whom shal I than pleyne of my distresse?

Who may me helpe, who may my harm redresse?

Shal I compleyne unto my lady free?

Nay, certes! for she hath such hevinesse,

195

For fere and eek for wo, that, as I gesse,

In litil tyme hit wol hir bane be.

But were she sauf, hit wer no fors of me.

Alas! that ever lovers mote endure,

For love, so many a perilous aventure!

200

For thogh so be that lovers be as trewe

As any metal that is forged newe,

In many a cas hem tydeth ofte sorowe.

Somtyme hir ladies will not on hem rewe,

Somtyme, yif that Ielosye hit knewe,

205

They mighten lightly leye hir heed to borowe;

Somtyme envyous folke with tunges horowe

Depraven hem; alas! whom may they plese?

But he be fals, no lover hath his ese.

[331]

But what availeth suche a long sermoun

210

Of aventures of love, up and doun?

I wol returne and speken of my peyne;

The point is this of my destruccioun,

My righte lady, my salvacioun,

Is in affray, and not to whom to pleyne.

215

O herte swete, O lady sovereyne!

For your disese, wel oghte I swoune and swelte,

Thogh I non other harm ne drede felte.

Instability of Happiness.

¶ To what fyn made the god that sit so hye,

Benethen him, love other companye,

220

And streyneth folk to love, malgre hir hede?

And then hir Ioye, for oght I can espye,

Ne lasteth not the twinkeling of an yë,

And somme han never Ioye til they be dede.

What meneth this? what is this mistihede?

225

Wherto constreyneth he his folk so faste

Thing to desyre, but hit shulde laste?

And thogh he made a lover love a thing,

And maketh hit seme stedfast and during,

Yet putteth he in hit such misaventure,

230

That reste nis ther noon in his yeving.

And that is wonder, that so Iust a king

Doth such hardnesse to his creature.

Thus, whether love breke or elles dure,

Algates he that hath with love to done

235

Hath ofter wo then changed is the mone.

[332]

Hit semeth he hath to lovers enmite,

And lyk a fissher, as men alday may see,

Baiteth his angle-hook with som plesaunce,

Til mony a fish is wood til that he be

240

Sesed ther-with; and then at erst hath he

Al his desyr, and ther-with al mischaunce;

And thogh the lyne breke, he hath penaunce;

For with the hoke he wounded is so sore,

That he his wages hath for ever-more.

The Brooch of Thebes.

245

¶ The broche of Thebes was of suche a kinde,

So ful of rubies and of stones Inde,

That every wight, that sette on hit an yë,

He wende anon to worthe out of his minde;

So sore the beaute wolde his herte binde,

250

Til he hit hadde, him thoghte he moste dye;

And whan that hit was his, than shulde he drye

Such wo for drede, ay whyl that he hit hadde,

That welnigh for the fere he shulde madde.

And whan hit was fro his possessioun,

255

Than had he double wo and passioun

For he so fair a tresor had forgo;

But yet this broche, as in conclusioun,

Was not the cause of this confusioun;

But he that wroghte hit enfortuned hit so,

260

That every wight that had hit shuld have wo;

And therfor in the worcher was the vyce,

And in the covetour that was so nyce.

[333]

So fareth hit by lovers and by me;

For thogh my lady have so gret beaute,

265

That I was mad til I had gete hir grace,

She was not cause of myn adversite,

But he that wroghte hir, also mot I thee,

That putte suche a beaute in hir face,

That made me to covete and purchace

270

Myn owne deth; him wyte I that I dye,

And myn unwit, that ever I clomb so hye.

An Appeal for Sympathy.

¶ But to yow, hardy knightes of renoun,

Sin that ye be of my divisioun,

Al be I not worthy to so grete a name,

275

Yet, seyn these clerkes, I am your patroun;

Ther-for ye oghte have som compassioun

Of my disese, and take it noght a-game.

The proudest of yow may be mad ful tame;

Wherfor I prey yow, of your gentilesse,

280

That ye compleyne for myn hevinesse.

And ye, my ladies, that ben trewe and stable,

By way of kinde, ye oghten to be able

To have pite of folk that be in peyne:

Now have ye cause to clothe yow in sable;

285

Sith that your emperice, the honorable,

Is desolat, wel oghte ye to pleyne;

Now shuld your holy teres falle and reyne.

Alas! your honour and your emperice,

Nigh deed for drede, ne can hir not chevise.

[334]

290

Compleyneth eek, ye lovers, al in-fere,

For hir that, with unfeyned humble chere,

Was ever redy to do yow socour;

Compleyneth hir that ever hath had yow dere;

Compleyneth beaute, fredom, and manere;

295

Compleyneth hir that endeth your labour;

Compleyneth thilke ensample of al honour,

That never dide but al gentilesse;

298

Kytheth therfor on hir som kindenesse.'

1. Ar. foules; Ju. fowles; T. fooles (!); Harl. floures (see l. 3); F. Tn. lovers (wrongly). F. Harl. on; Tn. in; rest of. 2. Ar. the; F. Harl. yow; Tn. Ju. you; T. your (wrongly; Thynne (1532) has yon, which, after all, is clearly right). 3. T. Ar. honoureth: F. Tn. honouren. F. the (!); rest ye. F. Tn. T. day; Ju. Harl. Ar. may (!) 4. F. Harl. sunne; rest sonne. Ar. vp risith. Ju. T. Ar. ye; F. they (!); Tn. the (!); Harl. he (!!). 5. Ar. any; F. eny. 7. F. Loo yonde; sunne; Ialosye. 8. F. blew; hert. 9. F. sent; Ar. seynt. 10. F. sum-; smert. 11. Ar. eft; Th. efte; T. efft; F. ofte. 12. Tn. Th. glade; F. glad. 13. F. foule; herd. 14. F. your; Ar. the; rest thy. F. sunne.

15. F. sange; foule. 17-19. in wrong order in F. Tn. 17. T. you; Ar. ȝow; Ju. ye; rest om. 19. F. this fest; rest the leste (lest, leest). 22. F. highe; Tn. high; rest hye. F. fest. 24. F. lest. 25. F. departyng; see l. 149. 26. F. morwnyng (see Kn. Tale, 204). 28. F. ins. hath bef. every; Tn. hat; Ju. had; rest om. 29. T. thridde; F. thrid. 35. Ju. Ar. nere; F. T. ner. F. bolde; dispise. 38. F. (only) om. him. F. calle (for talle); Harl. talle; Ju. Ar. tall; T. tal. 39. F. to cast; Ju. T. rightly omit to. 40. F. toke. 41. F. maner. 42. Ju. scourgyng; T. skowrginge; Ar. scurgeing; Tn. schouryng (sic); F. stering; Th. scornyng, and ed. 1561 scorning (probably a substitution). F. cher.

46. F. fair. 48. T. Ar. loven; rest loue. 49. Tn. trespas; F. trespace. T. Ar. disseuer; F. deseuer. 51. T. Ju. Tn. By; F. Be. 53. F. fast. 54. Tn. nexte; F. next. 55. Ar. oure-take. 56. T. preyde; F. preiede. F. faste (!); Harl. hasten; rest haste. 57. F. hertis; suete. 58. F. myschefe. 59. F. sikirly. 60. F. lyfe. 62. F. smert. 63. F. alle; hert. 64. F. grete. F. on; rest of. 66. F. stode. 67. Jn. Harl. T. Ar. ins. there after 1st him. 68. F. nyghe; witte. F. sorowe; Tn. sorow; rest wo, woo. 69. T. spedde; F. sped. T. Ar. als; rest as. F. fast; wey. 70. F. dyd; twey.

71. Ar. betuix; F. betwex; rest bytwene. 72. F. When; mette; tel. 74. F. duel. 75. F. knyghthode wel. 76. F. feyrenesse. 81. F. Throgh. 82. F. (alone) inserts ful before sturdely. 83. F. bryght. 84. Ju. Th. knockeden; Harl. knokkide; Tn. knokked; F. knokken (wrongly; a copy in MS. Pepys 2006 rightly has knokkeden). 87. F. shone. 88. Tn. T. brenne; F. bren. 89. F. cely (for sely); Tn. Ju. sely. MSS. nygh dreynt; omit nygh. 92. Tn. sterte; F. stert. Tn. liste; F. lust. 95. Tn. stede; F. stid. F. twyne. 97. F. hent; hauberke; ley. 98. F. wold; myght.

99. Tn. Ju. T. throweth; F. thrwe (badly). F. helme; wyght. 101. F. fyght. 102. Ar. to-wound; Harl. to-wond; rest to-wonde. 103. Ar. he was; rest was he. 108. F. (alone) inserts thou after Art. 110. F. hert. 112. Tn. Ju. Th. nere; F. ner. 113. F. Tn. in to; Harl. to rest vn to. Ju. Cylenius; Harl. Cylenyus; Ar. Cilenius; T. Celenius; Tn. cilinius; F. cilinios. F. toure. 115. Harl. T. ne; Ar. so; rest om. 116. F. founde; saugh. 117. F. eke. 119. Harl. T. fledde; Tn. Ju. Ar. fled; F. fel. 120. F. Derke; hel. 121. F. pales; rest pas (pace). F. stode. 122. F. let; duel. 123. So all. F. wode. 124. F. wold; sene; hert blode. 125. F. myght. Harl. done hir; Ju. doo her; T. Ar. do hir; F. Tn. haue done her; read hir don. 126. Tn. roghte; Ju. Harl. Ar. rought; F. thoght (!).

128. F. myght. 129. Harl. o; T. oon; Ju. one; rest a. Tn. Ju. Harl. steyre; T. stayre; F. sterre (!). 130. F. lesse. 132. F. toke. 133. Harl. T. Thanne; F. Then. 134. F. paas. 135. F. heree. 137. F. speree. 138. F. hert. 139. T. twelfft (but read twelfte); Ju. twelfth; Harl. Ar. twelf (wrongly); F. Tn. xij. F. dayes; Tn. days; rest day (rightly). 140. F. Throgh Ielouse. 141. Read helpe god (Koch). 143. F. while. 144. Ju. Cylenius; F. Cilinius. Tn. Lt. cheuauche; F. cheuache. 145. F. Ju. Fro; Ar. From; Tn. Harl. T. For. Ar. valance; Tn. valauns; F. Valaunses; Th. (ed. 1532) Valanus (for Valauns?); Ju. balance; Harl. T. balaunce. 147. F. frende. 151. F. morwnynge. 154. Ju. Th. yeue; F. yif. F. Ioy.

Title. In F. Ar. Ju.; T. Complaint of mars. 156. F. pleyn. 157. F. wherfore; pleyn. 158. F. Other; rest Or. Ju. Ar. folily; F. folely. 160. F. grounde; peyn. 161. F. witte; ateyn. 163. F. grounde. 164. F. first. 166. Tn. By; F. Be. 167. F. trwe; Tn. trewe. 169. F. That (by mistake); rest To. F. excelence. 171. F. wrothe. 175. F. fredam. 179. F. Instrumentes. 181. F. thorow; worlde.

182. All but Tn. Th. om. that. T. besette; F. beset. 183. T. oone; Tn. Ar. one; F. on (twice). F. knet; Ar. knett; rest knette. 184. F. lythe. 185. F. Therfore. F. hert. Ju. Th. hette; Ar. het; F. T. hight; Tn. set; (Longleat MS. has hette). 186. F. truly. Tn. Ju. T. shal I. F. let. 187. F. truest; Tn. Ar. trewest. 188. Tn. wite; F. wete; T. wit; Ju. knowe. 191. T. thane (for than); rest omit. 192. F. harme. 193. F. compleyn. 195. F. eke. 197. Ju. Ar. sauf; T. sauff; F. Tn. safe. 200. Tn. thogh; F. tho. 201. Tn. any; F. eny. 202. Tn. many; F. mony. T. Ar. cas; F. case. 203. F. Somme; rest Somtyme. Ju. T. Ar. lady. 204. Ar. gif; rest if, yf; read yif. 205. F. ley; hede. 207. Ju. T. Th. Deprauen; Ar. Depeynen; F. Tn. Departen.

209. F. longe. 210. Read lov-e (e unelided). F. dovne. 213. Tn. righte; F. right. F. sauacyoun; rest saluacioun. 214. F. pleyn. 215. F. hert suete. F. Tn. o; Ar. and; T. and my; Ju. om. 216. F. I oght wel; Tn. I oghte wel; Ju. T. Ar. wel ought I. Ju. swowne; Ar. suoun; T. swoone; Tn. swone; F. sowne. F. swelt. 217. F. none; harme; felt. 218. Ju. fyn; rest fyne. F. sitte; T. sit. 219. T. Tn. Ju. him; Ar. thame; F. om. F. other (= or); Tn. othyr (= or); Ju. T. or. 220. F. folke. 221. F. Ioy. 222. Tn. ye; rest eye. 223. F. Ioy. 225. F. folke; fast. 226. F. shuld last. 228. F. stidfast. 229. Ju. put; Ar. puttis. 230. Tn. T. reste; F. rest. T. noon; Ar. non; Ju. none; F. om. 231. F. Iuste.

236. Tn. enmyte; F. enemyte. 237. F. lyke. 238. Tn. Ju. Bayteth; F. Bateth. Ju. hook; F. hoke. Tn. som; F. summe. 239. F. fissch; wode. F. to; rest til. 241. F. desire. 244. F. hathe. 245. F. such. 246. F. Tn. Ar. stones of; Jn. T. om. of; see Rom. Rose, 67. 247. T. Th. sette; Ar. sett; rest set. 248. Tn. wende; F. wend. 249. F. wold; hert. 250. T. hade; rest had. F. thoght. Tn. moste; F. must. 251. F. Ju. om. that. F. (only) om. his. F. shuld. 252. Ju. T. hadde; F. had. 253. Ju. sholde madde; F. shuld mad. 256. F. feir; tresore (Tn. Iuel). 259. F. wroght. Tn. Th. enfortuned; T. enfortund; F. enfortune (!). 261. F. therfore.

267. F. wroght. Ju. Ar. also; T. als; F. Tn. as. 268. F. Tn. Ju. Ar. put (for putte); T. list to putte. Tn. Ju. a; F. T. Ar. om. 269. T. Ar. to; rest om. F. coueten; Tn. Ju. coueyten; (but to covete is better). 270. F. ovne; Th. owne; Ju. T. Ar. owen. F. dethe. 271. F. ovne witte; Tn. and rest vnwit. F. clombe. 273. F. deuisioun. 274. Perhaps omit to (as T.). 276. F. Therefore; oght; somme. 278. Tn. proudest; F. pruddest. Ar. maid; rest made (for mad, pp.). 279. F. Wherfore. 280. F. Tn. compleyn; Ju. Ar. compleyne; T. compleynen. 281. Ar. trewe; F. true. 282. Ar. By; F. Be. 283. F. folke; peyn. 285. Tn. emperice; F. emperise (and in l. 288). 286. Tn. oghte; F. oght; Ar. aughten. 289. F. Negh ded.

290. F. eke. 293. Tn. Compleyneth; F. Complen (by mistake); see next line. 297. Tn. dide; Ju. dyde; rest did. T. al; Ju. all; Ar. alway; F. Tn. om. 298. Ar. sum; F. summe.

The Proem.

The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne,

Thassay so hard, so sharp the conquering,

The dredful Ioy, that alwey slit so yerne,

Al this mene I by love, that my feling

Astonyeth with his wonderful worching

So sore y-wis, that whan I on him thinke,

Nat wot I wel wher that I wake or winke.

For al be that I knowe not love in dede,

Ne wot how that he quyteth folk hir hyre,

Yet happeth me ful ofte in bokes rede

Of his miracles, and his cruel yre;

Ther rede I wel he wol be lord and syre,

I dar not seyn, his strokes been so sore,

But God save swich a lord! I can no more.

Of usage, what for luste what for lore,

On bokes rede I ofte, as I yow tolde.

But wherfor that I speke al this? not yore

[336]

Agon, hit happed me for to beholde

Upon a boke, was write with lettres olde;

And ther-upon, a certeyn thing to lerne,

The longe day ful faste I radde and yerne.

For out of olde feldes, as men seith,

Cometh al this newe corn fro yeer to yere;

And out of olde bokes, in good feith,

Cometh al this newe science that men lere.

But now to purpos as of this matere—

To rede forth hit gan me so delyte,

That al the day me thoughte but a lyte.

This book of which I make mencioun,

Entitled was al thus, as I shal telle,

Tullius of the dreme of Scipioun';

Chapitres seven hit hadde, of hevene and helle,

And erthe, and soules that therinne dwelle,

Of whiche, as shortly as I can hit trete,

Of his sentence I wol you seyn the grete.

First telleth hit, whan Scipioun was come

In Afrik, how he mette Massinisse,

That him for Ioye in armes hath y nome.

Than telleth [hit] hir speche and al the blisse

That was betwix hem, til the day gan misse;

And how his auncestre, African so dere,

Gan in his slepe that night to him appere.

Than telleth hit that, fro a sterry place,

How African hath him Cartage shewed,

[337]

And warned him before of al his grace,

And seyde him, what man, lered other lewed,

That loveth comun profit, wel y-thewed,

He shal unto a blisful place wende,

Ther as Ioye is that last withouten ende.

Than asked he, if folk that heer be dede

Have lyf and dwelling in another place;

And African seyde, 'ye, withoute drede,'

And that our present worldes lyves space

Nis but a maner deth, what wey we trace,

And rightful folk shal go, after they dye,

To heven; and shewed him the galaxye.

Than shewed he him the litel erthe, that heer is,

At regard of the hevenes quantite;

And after shewed he him the nyne speres,

And after that the melodye herde he

That cometh of thilke speres thryes three,

That welle is of musyke and melodye

In this world heer, and cause of armonye.

Than bad he him, sin erthe was so lyte,

And ful of torment and of harde grace,

That he ne shulde him in the world delyte.

Than tolde he him, in certeyn yeres space,

That every sterre shulde come into his place

Ther hit was first; and al shulde out of minde

That in this worlde is don of al mankinde.

[338]

Than prayde him Scipioun to telle him al

The wey to come un-to that hevene blisse;

And he seyde, 'know thy-self first immortal,

And loke ay besily thou werke and wisse

To comun profit, and thou shalt nat misse

To comen swiftly to that place dere,

That ful of blisse is and of soules clere.

But brekers of the lawe, soth to seyne,

And lecherous folk, after that they be dede,

Shul alwey whirle aboute therthe in peyne,

Til many a world be passed, out of drede,

And than, for-yeven alle hir wikked dede,

Than shul they come unto that blisful place,

To which to comen god thee sende his grace!'—

The day gan failen, and the derke night,

That reveth bestes from hir besinesse,

Berafte me my book for lakke of light,

And to my bedde I gan me for to dresse,

Fulfild of thought and besy hevinesse;

For bothe I hadde thing which that I nolde,

And eek I ne hadde that thing that I wolde.

But fynally my spirit, at the laste,

For-wery of my labour al the day,

Took rest, that made me to slepe faste,

And in my slepe I mette, as I lay,

How African, right in that selfe aray

[339]

That Scipioun him saw before that tyde,

Was comen, and stood right at my beddes syde.

The wery hunter, slepinge in his bed,

100

To wode ayein his minde goth anoon;

The Iuge dremeth how his plees ben sped;

The carter dremeth how his cartes goon;

The riche, of gold; the knight fight with his foon,

The seke met he drinketh of the tonne;

105

The lover met he hath his lady wonne.

Can I nat seyn if that the cause were

For I had red of African beforn,

That made me to mete that he stood there;

But thus seyde he, 'thou hast thee so wel born

110

In loking of myn olde book to-torn,

Of which Macrobie roghte nat a lyte,

That somdel of thy labour wolde I quyte!'—

Citherea! thou blisful lady swete,

That with thy fyr-brand dauntest whom thee lest,

115

And madest me this sweven for to mete,

Be thou my help in this, for thou mayst best;

As wisly as I saw thee north-north-west,

When I began my sweven for to wryte,

So yif me might to ryme hit and endyte!

The Story.

120

This forseid African me hente anoon,

And forth with him unto a gate broghte

Right of a parke, walled with grene stoon;

And over the gate, with lettres large y-wroghte,

Ther weren vers y-writen, as me thoghte,

[340]

125

On eyther halfe, of ful gret difference,

Of which I shal yow sey the pleyn sentence.

Thorgh me men goon in-to that blisful place

Of hertes hele and dedly woundes cure;

Thorgh me men goon unto the welle of Grace,

130

Ther grene and lusty May shal ever endure;

This is the wey to al good aventure;

Be glad, thou reder, and thy sorwe of-caste,

Al open am I; passe in, and hy the faste!'

Thorgh me men goon,' than spak that other syde,

135

'Unto the mortal strokes of the spere,

Of which Disdayn and Daunger is the gyde,

Ther tree shal never fruyt ne leves bere.

This streem you ledeth to the sorwful were,

Ther as the fish in prison is al drye;

140

Theschewing is only the remedye.'

Thise vers of gold and blak y-writen were,

The whiche I gan a stounde to beholde,

For with that oon encresed ay my fere,

And with that other gan myn herte bolde;

145

That oon me hette, that other did me colde,

No wit had I, for errour, for to chese,

To entre or flee, or me to save or lese.

Right as, betwixen adamauntes two

Of even might, a pece of iren y-set,

150

That hath no might to meve to ne fro—

For what that on may hale, that other let—

Ferde I, that niste whether me was bet,

[341]

To entre or leve, til African my gyde

Me hente, and shoof in at the gates wyde,

155

And seyde, 'hit stondeth writen in thy face,

Thyn errour, though thou telle it not to me;

But dred thee nat to come in-to this place,

For this wryting is no-thing ment by thee,

Ne by noon, but he Loves servant be;

160

For thou of love hast lost thy tast, I gesse,

As seek man hath of swete and bitternesse.

But natheles, al-though that thou be dulle,

Yit that thou canst not do, yit mayst thou see;

For many a man that may not stonde a pulle,

165

Yit lyketh him at the wrastling for to be,

And demeth yit wher he do bet or he;

And if thou haddest cunning for tendyte,

I shal thee shewen mater of to wryte.'

With that my hond in his he took anoon,

170

Of which I comfort caughte, and wente in faste;

But lord! so I was glad and wel begoon!

For over-al, wher that I myn eyen caste,

Were treës clad with leves that ay shal laste,

Eche in his kinde, of colour fresh and grene

175

As emeraude, that Ioye was to sene.

The bilder ook, and eek the hardy asshe;

The piler elm, the cofre unto careyne;

The boxtree piper; holm to whippes lasshe;

[342]

The sayling firr; the cipres, deth to pleyne;

180

The sheter ew, the asp for shaftes pleyne;

The olyve of pees, and eek the drunken vyne,

The victor palm, the laurer to devyne.

A garden saw I, ful of blosmy bowes,

Upon a river, in a grene mede,

185

Ther as that swetnesse evermore y-now is,

With floures whyte, blewe, yelowe, and rede;

And colde welle-stremes, no-thing dede,

That swommen ful of smale fisshes lighte,

With finnes rede and scales silver-brighte.

190

On every bough the briddes herde I singe,

With voys of aungel in hir armonye,

Som besyed hem hir briddes forth to bringe;

The litel conyes to hir pley gunne hye,

And further al aboute I gan espye

195

The dredful roo, the buk, the hert and hinde,

Squerels, and bestes smale of gentil kinde.

Of instruments of strenges in acord

Herde I so pleye a ravisshing swetnesse,

That god, that maker is of al and lord,

200

Ne herde never better, as I gesse;

Therwith a wind, unnethe hit might be lesse,

Made in the leves grene a noise softe

Acordant to the foules songe on-lofte.

The air of that place so attempre was

205

That never was grevaunce of hoot ne cold;

Ther wex eek every holsom spyce and gras,

[343]

Ne no man may ther wexe seek ne old;

Yet was ther Ioye more a thousand fold

Then man can telle; ne never wolde it nighte,

210

But ay cleer day to any mannes sighte.

Under a tree, besyde a welle, I say

Cupyde our lord his arwes forge and fyle;

And at his fete his bowe al redy lay,

And wel his doghter tempred al the whyle

215

The hedes in the welle, and with hir wyle

She couched hem after as they shulde serve,

Som for to slee, and som to wounde and kerve.

Tho was I war of Plesaunce anon-right,

And of Aray, and Lust, and Curtesye;

220

And of the Craft that can and hath the might

To doon by force a wight to do folye—

Disfigurat was she, I nil not lye;

And by him-self, under an oke, I gesse,

Sawe I Delyt, that stood with Gentilnesse.

225

I saw Beautee, withouten any atyr,

And Youthe, ful of game and Iolyte,

Fool-hardinesse, Flatery, and Desyr,

Messagerye, and Mede, and other three—

Hir names shul noght here be told for me—

230

And upon pilers grete of Iasper longe

I saw a temple of bras y-founded stronge.

[344]

Aboute the temple daunceden alway

Wommen y-nowe, of whiche somme ther were

Faire of hem-self, and somme of hem were gay;

235

In kirtels, al disshevele, wente they there—

That was hir office alwey, yeer by yere—

And on the temple, of doves whyte and faire

Saw I sittinge many a hundred paire.

Before the temple-dore ful soberly

240

Dame Pees sat, with a curteyn in hir hond:

And hir besyde, wonder discretly,

Dame Pacience sitting ther I fond

With face pale, upon an hille of sond;

And alder-next, within and eek with-oute,

245

Behest and Art, and of hir folke a route.

Within the temple, of syghes hote as fyr

I herde a swogh that gan aboute renne;

Which syghes were engendred with desyr,

That maden every auter for to brenne

250

Of newe flaume; and wel aspyed I thenne

That al the cause of sorwes that they drye

Com of the bitter goddesse Ialousye.

The god Priapus saw I, as I wente,

Within the temple, in soverayn place stonde,

255

In swich aray as whan the asse him shente

With crye by night, and with his ceptre in honde;

Ful besily men gunne assaye and fonde

Upon his hede to sette, of sondry hewe,

Garlondes ful of fresshe floures newe.

[345]

260

And in a privee corner, in disporte,

Fond I Venus and hir porter Richesse,

That was ful noble and hauteyn of hir porte;

Derk was that place, but afterward lightnesse

I saw a lyte, unnethe hit might be lesse,

265

And on a bed of golde she lay to reste,

Til that the hote sonne gan to weste.

Hir gilte heres with a golden threde

Y-bounden were, untressed as she lay,

And naked fro the breste unto the hede

270

Men might hir see; and, sothly for to say,

The remenant wel kevered to my pay

Right with a subtil kerchef of Valence,

Ther was no thikker cloth of no defence.

The place yaf a thousand savours swote,

275

And Bachus, god of wyn, sat hir besyde,

And Ceres next, that doth of hunger bote;

And, as I seide, amiddes lay Cipryde,

To whom on knees two yonge folkes cryde

To ben hir help; but thus I leet hir lye,

280

And ferther in the temple I gan espye

That, in dispyte of Diane the chaste,

Ful many a bowe y-broke heng on the wal

Of maydens, suche as gunne hir tymes waste

In hir servyse; and peynted over al

285

Of many a story, of which I touche shal

A fewe, as of Calixte and Athalaunte,

And many a mayde, of which the name I wante;

[346]

Semyramus, Candace, and Ercules,

Biblis, Dido, Tisbe and Piramus,

290

Tristram, Isoude, Paris, and Achilles,

Eleyne, Cleopatre, and Troilus,

Silla, and eek the moder of Romulus—

Alle these were peynted on that other syde,

And al hir love, and in what plyte they dyde.

295

Whan I was come ayen into the place

That I of spak, that was so swote and grene,

Forth welk I tho, my-selven to solace.

Tho was I war wher that ther sat a quene

That, as of light the somer-sonne shene

300

Passeth the sterre, right so over mesure

She fairer was than any creature.

And in a launde, upon an hille of floures,

Was set this noble goddesse Nature;

Of braunches were hir halles and hir boures,

305

Y-wrought after hir craft and hir mesure;

Ne ther nas foul that cometh of engendrure,

That they ne were prest in hir presence,

To take hir doom and yeve hir audience.

For this was on seynt Valentynes day,

310

Whan every foul cometh ther to chese his make,

Of every kinde, that men thenke may;

And that so huge a noyse gan they make,

That erthe and see, and tree, and every lake

So ful was, that unnethe was ther space

315

For me to stonde, so ful was al the place.

[347]

And right as Aleyn, in the Pleynt of Kinde,

Devyseth Nature of aray and face,

In swich aray men mighten hir ther finde.

This noble emperesse, ful of grace,

320

Bad every foul to take his owne place,

As they were wont alwey fro yeer to yere,

Seynt Valentynes day, to stonden there.

That is to sey, the foules of ravyne

Were hyest set; and than the foules smale,

325

That eten as hem nature wolde enclyne,

As worm, or thing of whiche I telle no tale;

But water-foul sat lowest in the dale;

And foul that liveth by seed sat on the grene,

And that so fele, that wonder was to sene.

330

Ther mighte men the royal egle finde,

That with his sharpe look perceth the sonne;

And other egles of a lower kinde,

Of which that clerkes wel devysen conne.

Ther was the tyraunt with his fethres donne

335

And greye, I mene the goshauk, that doth pyne

To briddes for his outrageous ravyne.

The gentil faucon, that with his feet distreyneth

The kinges hond; the hardy sperhauk eke,

The quayles foo; the merlion that peyneth

340

Him-self ful ofte, the larke for to seke;

Ther was the douve, with hir eyen meke;

The Ialous swan, ayens his deth that singeth;

The oule eek, that of dethe the bode bringeth;

[348]

The crane the geaunt, with his trompes soune;

345

The theef, the chogh; and eek the Iangling pye;

The scorning Iay; the eles foo, the heroune;

The false lapwing, ful of trecherye;

The stare, that the counseyl can bewrye;

The tame ruddok; and the coward kyte;

350

The cok, that orloge is of thorpes lyte;

The sparow, Venus sone; the nightingale,

That clepeth forth the fresshe leves newe;

The swalow, mordrer of the flyës smale

That maken hony of floures fresshe of hewe;

355

The wedded turtel, with hir herte trewe;

The pecok, with his aungels fethres brighte;

The fesaunt, scorner of the cok by nighte;

The waker goos; the cukkow ever unkinde;

The popiniay, ful of delicasye;

360

The drake, stroyer of his owne kinde;

The stork, the wreker of avouterye;

The hote cormeraunt of glotonye;

The raven wys, the crow with vois of care;

The throstel olde; the frosty feldefare.

365

What shulde I seyn? of foules every kinde

That in this worlde han fethres and stature,

Men mighten in that place assembled finde

Before the noble goddesse Nature.

And everich of hem did his besy cure

[349]

370

Benignely to chese or for to take,

By hir acord, his formel or his make.

But to the poynt—Nature held on hir honde

A formel egle, of shap the gentileste

That ever she among hir werkes fonde,

375

The most benigne and the goodlieste;

In hir was every vertu at his reste,

So ferforth, that Nature hir-self had blisse

To loke on hir, and ofte hir bek to kisse.

Nature, the vicaire of thalmyghty lorde,

380

That hoot, cold, hevy, light, [and] moist and dreye

Hath knit by even noumbre of acorde,

In esy vois began to speke and seye,

Foules, tak hede of my sentence, I preye,

And, for your ese, in furthering of your nede,

385

As faste as I may speke, I wol me spede.

Ye know wel how, seynt Valentynes day,

By my statut and through my governaunce,

Ye come for to chese—and flee your way—

Your makes, as I prik yow with plesaunce.

390

But natheles, my rightful ordenaunce

May I not lete, for al this world to winne,

That he that most is worthy shal beginne.

The tercel egle, as that ye knowen wel,

The foul royal above yow in degree,

395

The wyse and worthy, secree, trewe as stel,

The which I formed have, as ye may see,

In every part as hit best lyketh me,

[350]

Hit nedeth noght his shap yow to devyse,

He shal first chese and speken in his gyse.

400

And after him, by order shul ye chese,

After your kinde, everich as yow lyketh,

And, as your hap is, shul ye winne or lese;

But which of yow that love most entryketh,

God sende him hir that sorest for him syketh.'

405

And therwith-al the tercel gan she calle,

And seyde, 'my sone, the choys is to thee falle.

But natheles, in this condicioun

Mot be the choys of everich that is here,

That she agree to his eleccioun,

410

Who-so he be that shulde been hir fere;

This is our usage alwey, fro yeer to yere;

And who so may at this time have his grace,

In blisful tyme he com in-to this place.'

With hed enclyned and with ful humble chere

415

This royal tercel spak and taried nought;

Unto my sovereyn lady, and noght my fere,

I chese, and chese with wille and herte and thought,

The formel on your hond so wel y-wrought,

Whos I am al and ever wol hir serve,

420

Do what hir list, to do me live or sterve.

Beseching hir of mercy and of grace,

As she that is my lady sovereyne;

Or let me dye present in this place.

For certes, long may I not live in peyne;

425

For in myn herte is corven every veyne;

Having reward only to my trouthe,

My dere herte, have on my wo som routhe.

And if that I to hir be founde untrewe,

Disobeysaunt, or wilful negligent,

430

Avauntour, or in proces love a newe,

[351]

I pray to you this be my Iugement,

That with these foules I be al to-rent,

That ilke day that ever she me finde

To hir untrewe, or in my gilte unkinde.

435

And sin that noon loveth hir so wel as I,

Al be she never of love me behette,

Than oghte she be myn thourgh hir mercy,

For other bond can I noon on hir knette.

For never, for no wo, ne shal I lette

440

To serven hir, how fer so that she wende;

Sey what yow list, my tale is at an ende.'

Right as the fresshe, rede rose newe

Ayen the somer-sonne coloured is,

Right so for shame al wexen gan the hewe

445

Of this formel, whan she herde al this;

She neyther answerde 'wel,' ne seyde amis,

So sore abasshed was she, til that Nature

Seyde, 'doghter, drede yow noght, I yow assure.'

Another tercel egle spak anoon

450

Of lower kinde, and seyde, 'that shal not be;

I love hir bet than ye do, by seynt Iohn,

Or atte leste I love hir as wel as ye;

And lenger have served hir, in my degree,

And if she shulde have loved for long loving,

455

To me allone had been the guerdoning.

I dar eek seye, if she me finde fals,

Unkinde, Iangler, or rebel any wyse,

Or Ialous, do me hongen by the hals!

And but I bere me in hir servyse

460

As wel as that my wit can me suffyse,

Fro poynt to poynt, hir honour for to save,

Tak she my lyf, and al the good I have.'

[352]

The thridde tercel egle answerde tho,

Now, sirs, ye seen the litel leyser here;

465

For every foul cryeth out to been a-go

Forth with his make, or with his lady dere;

And eek Nature hir-self ne wol nought here,

For tarying here, noght half that I wolde seye;

And but I speke, I mot for sorwe deye.

470

Of long servyse avaunte I me no-thing,

But as possible is me to dye to-day

For wo, as he that hath ben languisshing

Thise twenty winter, and wel happen may

A man may serven bet and more to pay

475

In half a yere, al-though hit were no more,

Than som man doth that hath served ful yore.

I ne say not this by me, for I ne can

Do no servyse that may my lady plese;

But I dar seyn, I am hir trewest man

480

As to my dome, and feynest wolde hir ese;

At shorte wordes, til that deth me sese,

I wol ben hires, whether I wake or winke,

And trewe in al that herte may bethinke.'

Of al my lyf, sin that day I was born,

485

So gentil plee in love or other thing

Ne herde never no man me beforn,

Who-[so] that hadde leyser and cunning

For to reherse hir chere and hir speking;

And from the morwe gan this speche laste

490

Til dounward drow the sonne wonder faste.

The noyse of foules for to ben delivered

So loude rong, 'have doon and let us wende!'

That wel wende I the wode had al to-shivered.

Come of!' they cryde, 'allas! ye wil us shende!

495

Whan shal your cursed pleding have an ende?

[353]

How shulde a Iuge eyther party leve,

For yee or nay, with-outen any preve?'

The goos, the cokkow, and the doke also

So cryden 'kek, kek!' 'kukkow!' 'quek, quek!' hye,

500

That thorgh myn eres the noyse wente tho.

The goos seyde, 'al this nis not worth a flye!

But I can shape hereof a remedye,

And I wol sey my verdit faire and swythe

For water-foul, who-so be wrooth or blythe.'

505

'And I for worm-foul,' seyde the fool cukkow,

For I wol, of myn owne auctoritè,

For comune spede, take the charge now,

For to delivere us is gret charitè.'

Ye may abyde a whyle yet, parde!'

510

Seide the turtel, 'if hit be your wille

A wight may speke, him were as good be stille.

I am a seed-foul, oon the unworthieste,

That wot I wel, and litel of kunninge;

But bet is that a wightes tonge reste

515

Than entremeten him of such doinge

Of which he neyther rede can nor singe.

And who-so doth, ful foule himself acloyeth,

For office uncommitted ofte anoyeth.'

Nature, which that alway had an ere

520

To murmour of the lewednes behinde,

With facound voys seide, 'hold your tonges there!

And I shal sone, I hope, a counseyl finde

You to delivere, and fro this noyse unbinde;

[354]

I Iuge, of every folk men shal oon calle

525

To seyn the verdit for you foules alle.'

Assented were to this conclusioun

The briddes alle; and foules of ravyne

Han chosen first, by pleyn eleccioun,

The tercelet of the faucon, to diffyne

530

Al hir sentence, and as him list, termyne;

And to Nature him gonnen to presente,

And she accepteth him with glad entente.

The tercelet seide than in this manere:

Ful hard were hit to preve hit by resoun

535

Who loveth best this gentil formel here;

For everich hath swich replicacioun,

That noon by skilles may be broght a-doun;

I can not seen that arguments avayle;

Than semeth hit ther moste be batayle.'

540

'Al redy!' quod these egles tercels tho.

Nay, sirs!' quod he, 'if that I dorste it seye,

Ye doon me wrong, my tale is not y-do!

For sirs, ne taketh noght a-gref, I preye,

It may noght gon, as ye wolde, in this weye;

545

Oure is the voys that han the charge in honde,

And to the Iuges dome ye moten stonde;

And therfor pees! I seye, as to my wit,

Me wolde thinke how that the worthieste

Of knighthode, and lengest hath used hit,

550

Moste of estat, of blode the gentileste,

Were sittingest for hir, if that hir leste;

And of these three she wot hir-self, I trowe,

Which that he be, for hit is light to knowe.'

[355]

The water-foules han her hedes leyd

555

Togeder, and of short avysement,

Whan everich had his large golee seyd,

They seyden sothly, al by oon assent,

How that 'the goos, with hir facounde gent,

That so desyreth to pronounce our nede,

560

Shal telle our tale,' and preyde 'god hir spede.'

And for these water-foules tho began

The goos to speke, and in hir cakelinge

She seyde, 'pees! now tak kepe every man,

And herkeneth which a reson I shal bringe;

565

My wit is sharp, I love no taryinge;

I seye, I rede him, though he were my brother,

But she wol love him, lat him love another!'

Lo here! a parfit reson of a goos!'

Quod the sperhauk; 'never mot she thee!

570

Lo, swich hit is to have a tonge loos!

Now parde, fool, yet were hit bet for thee

Have holde thy pees, than shewed thy nycete!

Hit lyth not in his wit nor in his wille,

But sooth is seyd, "a fool can noght be stille."'

575

The laughter aroos of gentil foules alle,

And right anoon the seed-foul chosen hadde

The turtel trewe, and gunne hir to hem calle,

And preyden hir to seye the sothe sadde

Of this matere, and asked what she radde;

580

And she answerde, that pleynly hir entente

She wolde shewe, and sothly what she mente.

Nay, god forbede a lover shulde chaunge!'

The turtel seyde, and wex for shame al reed;

Thogh that his lady ever-more be straunge,

[356]

585

Yet let him serve hir ever, til he be deed;

For sothe, I preyse noght the gooses reed;

For thogh she deyed, I wolde non other make,

I wol ben hires, til that the deth me take.'

Wel bourded!' quod the doke, 'by my hat!

590

That men shulde alwey loven, causeles,

Who can a reson finde or wit in that?

Daunceth he mury that is mirtheles?

Who shulde recche of that is reccheles?

Ye, quek!' yit quod the doke, ful wel and faire,

595

'There been mo sterres, god wot, than a paire!'

Now fy, cherl!' quod the gentil tercelet,

Out of the dunghil com that word ful right,

Thou canst noght see which thing is wel be-set:

Thou farest by love as oules doon by light,

600

The day hem blent, ful wel they see by night;

Thy kind is of so lowe a wrechednesse,

That what love is, thou canst nat see ne gesse.'

Tho gan the cukkow putte him forth in prees

For foul that eteth worm, and seide blyve,

605

'So I,' quod he, 'may have my make in pees,

I recche not how longe that ye stryve;

Lat ech of hem be soleyn al hir lyve,

This is my reed, sin they may not acorde;

This shorte lesson nedeth noght recorde.'

610

'Ye! have the glotoun fild ynogh his paunche,

Than are we wel!' seyde the merlioun;

Thou mordrer of the heysugge on the braunche

That broghte thee forth, thou [rewthelees] glotoun!

Live thou soleyn, wormes corrupcioun!

[357]

615

For no fors is of lakke of thy nature;

Go, lewed be thou, whyl the world may dure!'

Now pees,' quod Nature, 'I comaunde here;

For I have herd al your opinioun,

And in effect yet be we never the nere;

620

But fynally, this is my conclusioun,

That she hir-self shal han the eleccioun

Of whom hir list, who-so be wrooth or blythe,

Him that she cheest, he shal hir have as swythe.

For sith hit may not here discussed be

625

Who loveth hir best, as seide the tercelet,

Than wol I doon hir this favour, that she

Shal have right him on whom hir herte is set,

And he hir that his herte hath on hir knet.

This Iuge I, Nature, for I may not lyë;

630

To noon estat I have non other yë.

But as for counseyl for to chese a make,

If hit were reson, certes, than wolde I

Counseyle yow the royal tercel take,

As seide the tercelet ful skilfully,

635

As for the gentilest and most worthy,

Which I have wroght so wel to my plesaunce;

That to yow oghte been a suffisaunce.'

With dredful vois the formel hir answerde,

My rightful lady, goddesse of Nature,

640

Soth is that I am ever under your yerde,

Lyk as is everiche other creature,

And moot be youres whyl my lyf may dure;

And therfor graunteth me my firste bone,

And myn entente I wol yow sey right sone.'

[358]

645

'I graunte it you,' quod she; and right anoon

This formel egle spak in this degree,

Almighty quene, unto this yeer be doon

I aske respit for to avysen me.

And after that to have my choys al free;

650

This al and som, that I wolde speke and seye;

Ye gete no more, al-though ye do me deye.

I wol noght serven Venus ne Cupyde

For sothe as yet, by no manere wey.'

Now sin it may non other wyse betyde,'

655

Quod tho Nature, 'here is no more to sey;

Than wolde I that these foules were a-wey

Ech with his make, for tarying lenger here'—

And seyde hem thus, as ye shul after here.

To you speke I, ye tercelets,' quod Nature,

660

'Beth of good herte and serveth, alle three;

A yeer is not so longe to endure,

And ech of yow peyne him, in his degree,

For to do wel; for, god wot, quit is she

Fro yow this yeer; what after so befalle,

665

This entremes is dressed for you alle.'

And whan this werk al broght was to an ende,

To every foule Nature yaf his make

By even acorde, and on hir wey they wende.

A! lord! the blisse and Ioye that they make!

670

For ech of hem gan other in winges take,

And with hir nekkes ech gan other winde,

Thanking alwey the noble goddesse of kinde.

But first were chosen foules for to singe,

As yeer by yere was alwey hir usaunce

675

To singe a roundel at hir departinge,

To do Nature honour and plesaunce.

The note, I trowe, maked was in Fraunce;

[359]

The wordes wer swich as ye may heer finde,

The nexte vers, as I now have in minde.

Qui bien aime a tard oublie.

680

'Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe,

That hast this wintres weders over-shake,

And driven awey the longe nightes blake!

Seynt Valentyn, that art ful hy on-lofte;—

Thus singen smale foules for thy sake—

685

Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe,

That hast this wintres weders over-shake.

Wel han they cause for to gladen ofte,

Sith ech of hem recovered hath his make;

Ful blisful may they singen whan they wake;

690

Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe,

That hast this wintres weders over-shake,

And driven awey the longe nightes blake.'

And with the showting, whan hir song was do,

That foules maden at hir flight a-way,

695

I wook, and other bokes took me to

To rede upon, and yet I rede alway;

I hope, y-wis, to rede so som day

That I shal mete som thing for to fare

699

The bet; and thus to rede I nil not spare.

Explicit tractatus de congregacione Volucrum

die sancti Valentini.

The authorities are: F. (Fairfax 16); Gg. (Gg. 4. 27, Cambridge Univ. Library); Trin. (Trinity Coll. Camb. R. 3. 19); Cx. (Caxton's edition); Harl. (Harleian 7333); O. (St. John's Coll. Oxford); Ff. (Ff. I. 6, Cambridge Univ. Library); occasionally Tn. (Tanner 346); D. (Digby 181); and others. I follow F. mainly, corrected by Gg. (and others); and note all variations from F. of any consequence.

Title; Gg. has—Here begynyth the parlement of Foulys; D. The parlement of Fowlis. 2. So F. Harl. Tn.; some transpose hard and sharp. 3. Gg. and others dredful; F. slyder. Gg. O. slit; Cx. flit (for slit); Ff. slydeth (om. so); F. slyd; Trin. fleeth. 5. Gg. (and others) with his wondyrful; F. soo with a dredeful. 7. F. Tn. wake or wynke; rest flete or synke; see 482. 9. Gg. Trin. Harl. that; which the rest omit. 10. Gg. Trin. Cx. Harl. Ff. ful ofte in bokis; F. in bookes ofte to. 11. F. ins. of after and; Gg. om. 13. F. Dar I; Gg. and others I dar. 14. F. suche; Gg. swich. 17. F. Tn. D. why; rest wherfore (wherfor).

21. Gg. faste; F. fast. Harl. radde; F. rad; Gg. redde. 22. F. seyth; Gg. sey. 24. F. feythe; Gg. fey. 26. Gg. O. as of this; Trin. Cx. Harl. Ff. of this; F. of my firste. 28. Gg. Ff. me thouȝte; Trin. Cx. Harl. me thought hit; F. thought me. 30. Gg. Cx. thus; F. Trin. Harl. there. Gg. and rest as I schal; F. I shal yow. 31. F. inserts the after dreme of; the rest omit. Trin. Harl. O. Scipioun; F. Cipioun; Gg. sothion (!). 32. F. hyt had vij; Gg. and the rest seuene It hadde. 33. Ff. therInne; F. and the rest theryn (wrongly). 34. Gg. it; O. of; the rest omit. 35. Gg. seyn; F. tel; the rest sey (say). 37. F. In-to; rest In. F. Aufryke; Gg. Affrik. 39. For hit all wrongly have he; see ll. 36, 43. 40. Harl. betwix; F. betwixt. 41. Gg. Affrican; F. Aufrikan. 42. F. on; rest in. 43. F. tolde he hym; Gg. Trin. Cx. Harl. tellith it; O. Ff. tellithe he. 44. Gg. Affrycan; F. Aufrikan. F. y-shewed; rest schewid, shewyd, &c.

46. Gg. other; Th. eyther; rest or. 49. Gg. There as Ioye is that last with outyn; F. There Ioy is that lasteth with-out. 50. F. inserts the after if; rest omit. 52. Gg. Affrican; F. Aufrikan. 53. Gg. Ff. that; Trin. Cx. Harl. how; F. om. 54. Cx. Nis; Gg. Nys; F. Trin. Harl. Ff. Meneth. 55. Gg. and rest after; F. whan. Gg. Ff. gon; Harl. O. gone. 56. Cx. galaxye; F. Ff. galoxye; O. galoxie. i. watlynstrete; Harl. galorye; Trin. galry (!); Gg. galylye (!). 58. Gg. and rest the; Harl. tho; F. om. 62. T. Cx. Harl. O. That welles of musyk be (ben). 64. Gg. Ff. Than bad he hym syn erthe was so lyte; F. Than bad he hym see the erthe that is so lite (wrongly). 65. Cx. Trin. Harl. O. ful of torment and; F. was somedel fulle; Gg. was sumdel disseyuable and ful (!). 69. Gg. and rest schulde (schuld, shuld); F. shal. 70. F. was; rest is.

71. F. O. he; rest him. Gg. and rest to; F. om. 72. Gg. Trin. Harl. O. into that; Cx. unto that; F. to (om. that). 73. Gg. inmortal; O. Th. immortalle; F. and rest mortalle(!). 75. Gg. and rest not (nat, noght); F. never. 76. Gg. comyn: Cx. comen; F. come. Gg. O. to; rest into, vnto. 77. Trin. Cx. Harl. Ff. retain of after and; F. Gg. O. omit. 78. F. ins. for before to (but lawe is dissyllabic); rest om. 80. Gg. wrongly puts there for therthe; Harl. O. Ff. place alwey before in peyne; the rest are bad. 82. F. ins. hem before alle. Gg. And that for-ȝeuyn is his weked dede (but dede is plural). 84. Gg. comyn; rest come, com. Cx. Harl. the sende his; O. sende the his; Gg. synde us; Ff. send vs; F. sende ech lover (!). 85. Harl. faylen; Cx. fayllen; F. faile; Gg. folwyn (!). 87. F. Berefte; rest Berafte, Beraft. 90. F. had; Gg. hadde. 91. Harl. O. give 1st that; Trin. Cx. the; F. Ff. Gg. om. 95. After as, Gg. Trin. Harl. O. insert that; it is hardly needed. 96. Gg. Affrican; F. Aufrikan.

102. Gg. Ft carte is; O. cart is; rest cartes or cartis. 104, 5. Gg. Harl. O. met; F. Trin. Cx. meteth. 106. Gg. Cx. O. Ff. I nat; F. not I. 107. F. redde had; Gg. hadde red; rest had red (rad). Gg. affrican; F. Aufrican. 108. F. omits made; the rest have it. 110. to-torn] F. al to torne. 111. F. roght noght; Gg. roughte nat; Cx. roght not. 112. F. Cx. ins. the after I; rest omit. 114. Trin. Cx. fyrebronde; Gg. ferbrond; F. firy bronde. 119. Gg. ȝif; F. yeve. Trin. Cx. Harl. O. hit and; Ff. eke and; Gg. & ek; F. and to. 120. Gg. Affrican; F. Aufrikan. 122. F. and rest with; Gg. of. 124. Read weren; all were (weer). Gg. I-wrete; Th. ywritten; F. writen.

133. F. Ff. hye; the rest spede (sped). 135. F. stroke; rest strokes (strokis). 137. Cx. Harl. O. Ff. neuer tree shal. Cx. fruyt; Harl. O. fruyte; Trin. F. frute. 138. F. unto; rest to. 139. All is (ys). 140. O. Theschewing; Cx. Theschewyng; Harl. The eschuyng; F. Thescwynge (sic). 142. Trin. Cx. Harl. O. The; F. Gg. Of; Ff. On. F. Cx. a stounde (which I think is correct); Ff. astonde; (alt. to) Gg. a-stonyd; Trin. astonyed; Harl. O. astoned. 144. F. Cx. O. Ff. insert to before bolde (wrongly); Gg. Trin. Harl. om. 148. Gg. be-twixsyn; F. betwix. 149. F. y-sette; Gg. set. 150. F. That; Ff. om.; rest Ne (which would be elided). F. nor; rest ne (better). 152. Gg. and rest nyste; F. I ne wiste. Gg. and rest whether; F. wher that (perhaps rightly).

153. F. Affrikan. 156. Gg. Cx. O. to; rest omit. 158. Trin. Cx. by; Gg. bi; F. be. 159. Gg. Trin. Cx. by; F. be. 160. Gg. stat (!); for tast (taste). 162. F. Ff. om. that. 163. Gg. Harl. O. supply Yit; Cx. Yf; rest om. F. yet thou maist hyt; O. mayst thowe; rest yit mayst (may) thou. 165. F. Ff. om. for. 166. Gg. wher; rest whether. 167. Gg. Cx. tendite; F. Trin. to endite. 169. F. And with; rest om. And. 170. Gg. confort. Gg. that as; rest went in. 172. F. om. that (but over-al=ov'r-al). 173. F. Weren; rest Were. 174. Gg. O. Ff. of; F. Cx. with (from line above). 175. F. Emerawde. Gg. sothe (for Ioye, wrongly). 177. Cx. O. piler; Gg. pilere; Trin. pylor; F. Harl. peler. 178. F. box pipe tre; Gg. and rest box tre pipere (or piper). Trin. the holyn; Cx. holin; Ff. holye; Gg. O. holm; F. Harl. holme.

180. Gg. Ew; rest ewe. 183. Harl. O. blosmy; Gg. blospemy (for blossemy); Cx. blossome; Trin. blossom; F. Ff. blossomed. 185. O. that; Gg. ther; rest omit. Gg. Ff. I-now; O. I-nowe; F. ynowh. 188. Ff. That swommen; Harl. That swommyn; Gg. That swemyn; Trin. That swymen; Cx. O. That swymmen; F. And swymmynge. 192. F. That; Gg. Ff. So (error for Som); rest Som, Some, Somme. 193. Gg. gunne; F. gunnen; rest gan, cane. 194. F. Trin. om. al. 196. Cx. Squerels; F. Squerel; rest Squyrelis (Squyrellis, Squerellis). 197. F. Cx. On; rest Of. Gg. Cx. O. strengis; Trin. stryngys; F. strynge. Gg. a-cord; rest accorde, acorde. 198. F. om. so. F. Gg. and (for a, wrongly); Ff. om.; rest a. 201. F. om. be; rest have it. 203. Gg. bryddis; rest foules. 205. F. ther of; rest of. 206. Gg. wex; Ff. waxed; F. growen; rest was (error for wex).

207. Trin. Cx. Harl. Ne; rest omit. 208. F. more Ioye; rest Ioye more. 209. F. No; rest Then (or Than). F. om. ne; rest (except Ff.) retain it. Trin. was (for wolde). 214. Gg. Th. wel; F. O. wille; Cx. Trin. wylle; Harl. whille; see note. 215. Gg. and rest hire (hir, hyr); F. harde. F. fyle; Trin. vyle (for fyle) Harl. wyel; rest wile. 216. F. shul; rest shuld, shulde. 217. F. om. for. 221. O. doon by force; Trin. Cx. do by force; Harl. done be force; Gg. don be fore (sic); F. goo before. 222. F. Ff. Disfigured. Gg. Harl. nyl; Cx. Trin. Ff. wil; O. wolle; F. shal. 225. Gg. saw; F. sawgh. Gg. with outyn; Cx. Ff. with outen; F. with oute. 228. F. Ff. Trin. omit 1st and. 229. F. Ff. Trin. omit here. 230. F. pelers; rest pilers (pileris, pylors). 231. F. sawgh. F. glas; rest (except Ff.) bras or brasse. Gg. Harl. O. I-founded; Trin. enfoundyd; F. founded.

232. Gg. daunsedyn; F. daunced. 233. F. O. om. ther. 234. F. om. were; rest retain. 236. Gg. ȝer be ȝeere; Trin. Cx. Harl. yere by yere; F. fro yere to yere. 237. Trin. O. of douys; Gg. of dowis; Cx. of duues; Harl. of dofes; Ff. of dowfs; F. saugh I (sic). 238. F. Of dowves white (sic); Ff. Saw I sitte; rest Saw I syttynge. Trin. Cx. Harl. O. thousand (for hundred). 240. F. om. with. 241. Gg. and rest by hire syde (for hir besyde). 244. F. om. eek; rest retain. 246. Gg. sykys. 248. Gg. sikis. 250. Trin. Cx. flame. F. om. wel; rest retain it. 252. Gg. Cam; O. Com; F. Come; Cx. Comen; Trin. Harl. Ff. Cometh. Gg. Trin. Cx. goddesse; Harl. goddes (i. e. goddess); F. O. goddys. 253. F. sawgh. 255. Gg. swich; F. suche. 256. Trin. Cx. Ff. by; rest be.

260. Gg. priue; F. prevy. 264. F. saugh. 267. Gg. goldene; Ff. golden; F. and rest golde or gold. 271. Cx. wel couerd; Harl. wel couered; Gg. was wel keuerede; Trin. was welle coueryd; F. keuered wel. 272. Harl. Trin. Ff. sotil. Trin. O. kerchyff; F. keuerchefe; Gg. couercheif; Cx. couerchef. 273. Gg. nas (for was). Gg. Harl. alone insert 2nd no (but it is wanted). 275. Trin. Cx. Bachus; rest Bacus. Gg. wyn; F. wyne. 277. F. Gg. Harl. Cipride (rightly); the rest Cupide (!); see l. 279. 278. Gg. Cx. O. two; Ff. to; F. the; Trin. Harl. om. Gg. O. Ff. folk ther (for folkes). 279. Gg. Trin. let; O. lat; Ff. lett; F. B. Cx. Harl. lete. 283. Gg. Harl. gunne; F. gonne; rest gan, can. 285. Gg. Cx. Ff. Ful (for Of).

288. Cx. O. Semiramis; Ff. Semiriamis; rest Semiramus (as in Leg. Good Women, Tisbe, l. 2). Gg. Hercules. 289. Trin. Harl. Tysbe; F. Cx. Tesbe; Gg. Thisbe. 295. F. Cx. comen; rest come. F. Ff. that; rest the. 298. Gg. that; which rest omit (though wanted). 303. F. O. wrongly insert of before Nature. 307. Gg. Trin. Cx. Ff. they; F. Harl. O. there. After were (dissyllabic) Gg. inserts al; needlessly. 308. Gg. dom; rest dome. 310. Gg. bryd (for foul); Cx. birde. 311. F. On; rest Of. Ff. thenke; rest thynke (not so well). 313. Gg. Ff. eyr (for see).

316. F. Alayne; Trin. Alen; rest Aleyn. 317. Gg. in (for of). All but Gg. Ff. needlessly insert suche before aray (caught from line below). 318. Gg. swich; F. suche. MSS. myghte, myght; but read mighten. 320. Gg. Ff. his; rest her, hir (wrongly). Cx. owen; Gg. owene; F. ovne; rest owne. 325. Gg. Cx. hem; Ff. them; O. om.; rest that. 327. Trin. vale (for dale). 330. Gg. ryal; Cx. Harl. O. rial. 338. F. om. hardy. All eke (for eek); exceptionally. 343. Trin. bood; Cx. bodword; rest bode (dissyllabic).

344. Gg. Ff. om. the. 345. Trin. chowgh; F. choghe; Cx. choughe; Harl. chowhe; Gg. O. Ff. crow (wrongly). 346. Harl. Ff. eles; Gg. O. elis; Trin. elys; F. Cx. egles (!). Trin. Harl. O. insert the before heroun; rest omit. 347. Gg. false; F. fals. Trin. Cx. lapwynk; O. lappewynk. 348. Gg. starlyng; rest stare. Gg. bewreye (but note the rime). 349. Gg. rodok. 350. Gg. orloge; F. orlogge. Gg. thorpis; F. thropes. 352. Gg. Cx. Ff. grene (for fresshe). 353. Trin. Th. flyes; Ff. bryddis; Gg. O. foulis; rest foules (fowles). But flyes is right; see Cant. Ta. I. 468, Boeth. iii. met. 7. 355. F. his; O. om.; rest hire, hir, her. 356. Gg. clothis (for fethers). 357. F. be (for by). 359. F. papiay; Gg. popyniay. 361. F. Cx. Ff. om. the. 363. Gg. The rauen wys, the crowe wit voice of care; Ff. same (omitting wys); F. and rest The rauenes and the crowes with her voys of care (badly). 367. Gg. myghtyn; F. myghte. 368. F. that; Ff. this; Harl. om.; rest the. All but Gg. Ff. ins. of bef. Nature. 369. Gg. eueriche; O. Ff. euery; F. eche (badly).

370. Gg. Benygnely; F. Benyngly (sic). 374. fonde is pt. t. subjunctive. 375. Gg. Cx. the (after and); Ff. moste; rest om. 378. Gg. bek; F. beke. 379. Ff. Cx. vicaire; F. vyker. 380. I insert and after light. Gg. Cx. dreye; rest drye. 381. Trin. Cx. by; F. be; Gg. with. 383. Cx. Ff. kepe (for bede). 384. Gg. ese; F. ease. 385. Gg. Ff. ȝow; Cx. you (for me). 386. F. Cx. Harl. insert that after how. 387. Gg. By; F. Be. 389. F. Trin. Cx. Harl. O. insert With before Your; Gg. Ff. rightly omit. 390. Gg. Cx. Ff. ordenaunce; rest gouernaunce (see l. 387). 391. F. Trin. Harl. O. let (i. e. let go); Gg. breke; Ff. suffre; Cx. lette. 393. Gg. terslet (for tercel). Gg. ful wel; F. wele. 394. Gg. ryal. 395. Gg. stel; F. stele. 396. All have formed.

411. Cx. yere by yere (for fro yeer to yere). 413. Gg. cam. 414. Gg. O. Ff. om. ful; rest retain. 415. Trin. Ff. Royalle; F. real; Gg. ryal. 424. Gg. I may. 426. Read al-only? 428. Gg. And if that I to hyre be founde; F. And yf I be founde to hir.

436. F. As though; rest Al be. 438. F. knette; Gg. areete; rest knytte, knyt. 439. Gg. Cx. O. Ne (for For). 445. So all. Read whan that she? 446. Gg. She neythir; Cx. Harl. O. Ff. She neyther; F. Trin. Neyther she. 450. Gg. O. Ff. shal; rest shulde, shuld. 460. Gg. that; rest omit. 462. Gg. the; Trin. Harl. ye; rest she.

463. Gg. thredde; Trin. Ff. thryd; F. thirdde. 467. F. om. Nature. 473. Gg. yeer and as (for winter and). 476. F. om. ful. 479. Gg. seyn; F. say. 480. Gg. Ff. ese; rest plese. 481. Gg. shorte; F. short. 482. Ff. hyres; F. hirse (!). 487. I supply so. Gg. hadde; F. had. 488. F. rehersen; rest reherse (reherce). 490. Gg. drow; Cx. wente; rest went (badly). 494. Cx. Harl. wil; F. wol. 495. Gg. pletynge; Trin. Cx. Harl. pletyng.

498. So Gg.; rest The goos, the duk, and the cukkowe also (wrongly; see next line). 501. F. seyde tho; rest omit tho. Gg. Ff. nys not; Trin. O. ys nat; Cx. is not; F. Harl. om. not. 503. Gg. Cx. I; rest om. 507. Gg. O. profit; rest spede. Trin. For comon spede, take the chargë now. F. Cx. Harl. O. ins. on me bef. the; Ff. ins. vpon me. Gg. tak on no (!) for take the. 510. Trin. Seyde; Cx. Said; rest Quod. 511. F. good; Cx. better (for as good); rest fayr. 514. Gg. bet; rest better. 515. Gg. entirmetyn; F. entremete. 517. All but Gg. Cx. ins. hyt (it, yt) bef. doth. 518. Ff. vncommaundet; O. vnconveyid; Gg. onquit (!); rest vncommytted. 520. Gg. om. behynde; Trin. Harl. blynde; Cx. by kynde; rest behynde. 523. F. O. Ff. for to (for to). F. delyueren; rest delyuere (deliver). F. Gg. Harl. from; rest fro.

524. Cx. charge (for Iuge). 527. Most MSS. insert the before foules; which Gg. Th. and Longleat MS. omit. 530. All but Cx. Ff. ins. to after list. 534. Trin. Th. preue; Gg. proue; F. preven. 536. Gg. swich; F. suche. 537. Gg. non by skillis; F. and rest by skilles may non (badly). 540. Cx. terselis egles. 543. Gg. ne; rest omit. 544. F. om. gon. 545. Gg. Cx. Oure; rest Oures, Ours. 549. Gg. O. hath; rest had. 551. Gg. sittyngest; rest sittynge. 553. Cx. Harl. ethe (for light).

556. Gg. O. gole; Ff. goler; Cx. golye; Ff. golee; Trin. Harl. wyltee. 558. Gg. facounde so; Ff. facounde; Cx. faconde; F. faucond. 560. F. Cx. Ff. needlessly insert to after preyd-e. 564. All but Gg. insert forth before bringe. 569. For Quod read Seyde? 570. Gg. sich (for swich); F. suche. 575. F. laughtre. 576. F. Harl. Ff. foules; Trin. fowle; Cx. fowl; O. foule; Gg. ful (!). 577. Gg. gunne; Ff. gonne; rest gan.

588. Harl. hires; Gg. hire; Cx. hers; rest hirs. Trin. Harl. om. that (perhaps rightly). 589. Gg. Cx. Ff. doke; F. duk. 590. F. Ff. shulden. 592. F. Gg. murye; rest mery. 594. Gg. O. yit; Ff. yet; rest om. 599. Gg. by; F. be (1st time). 602. Gg. Th. nat; F. neyther. 603. F. put; Gg. putte. 606. Cx. Ff. recche; F. Gg. Harl, reche; Trin. O. rek. 611. Gg. Merlioun; Trin. O. Merlyon; Cx. merlion; F. Ff. Emerlyon. 612. F. om. 1st the. Harl. heysugge; O. heysugg; Cx. heysug; Ff. haysugge; F. haysogge; Gg. heysoge; Trin. heysoke. 613. Gg. reufulles (!); Pepys rowthfull; rest rewful (!).

621. Gg. han; rest haue. Gg. Cx. the; rest hir, hyr. 623. F. cheest; Gg. chesith; Trin. cheseth; Harl. chesithe. F. han hir; Gg. hire han; Trin. hyr hafe; Cx. Harl. Ff. her haue. 626. Gg. hire this fauour; Trin. Harl. to hyr thys fauour; F. and rest thys fauour to hir. 630. Ff. ye; Harl. yee; Trin. ey; rest eye. 632. F. Gg. I (for hit). Gg. certis; rest omit. 637. All but Gg. Cx. insert hit (or it) after That or yow. Th. ben; Cx. haue ben; rest to ben (be). 641. Gg. As is a-nothir lyuis creature. O. alone ins. Like bef. As. 642. Gg. mot; rest moste (muste). 643. Gg. grauntyth; rest graunte, graunt (badly). 644. Trin. Cx. Harl. I wyll yow; O. I woll ȝewe; F. Ff. yow wol I.

652. F. Cipride; Harl. Cypride; Ff. Sypryde; rest Cupide (cf. ll. 212, 277). 654. F. other weyes; Cx. other wayes; O. othir wey (perhaps best); Gg. othirwise; Ff. other-wyse; Trin. Harl. other (sic). 655. Gg. Harl. tho; rest om. 659. F. terceletys; Th. tercelets. 660. F. al; Gg. alle. 665. F. O. entremesse; Ff. entremeese; Th. entremes; Gg. entyrmes; Harl. entermes. 666. F. wroght; rest brought, broght. 669. F. A; Gg. But; rest And. Gg. Ioye; F. Ioy. 672. Gg. Thankynge; F. Thonkyng. Gg. queen; rest goddesse, goddes.

678. Gg. sweche (for swiche); F. suche. Th. Qui; miswritten Que in F. Cx.; Qe in Trin.; rest omit. aime; F. ayme. tard; F. tarde. Lines 680-692 only occur in Gg. Th. and Digby 181; lines 683, 684, 687-9 in O. I follow Digby 181 mainly. 680. Digb. Nowe welcome. 681. Gg. wintres wedres; Digb. wynter wedirs. 682. Gg. And; Digb. Hast. Digb. drevyn; Gg. dreuyne. Digb. nyghtis; Gg. nyghtes. 684. Digb. syngen; Fowlis. 687. Gg. O. Wele. 688. Gg. O. hem; Digb. them. 689. Digb. Fulle blisfully they synge and endles ioy thei make (wrongly); Gg. Ful blisseful mowe they ben when they wake; O. Th. Ful blesfull may they synge when they wake (Th. awake). 693. F. showtynge. 694. Gg. madyn; Ff. maden; F. made. 698. Trin. fynde (for mete). 699. Ff. nyl; Gg. nele; F. O. wol; Trin. wylle; Cx. wil.

Colophon. So in F; Gg. has—Explicit parliamentum Auium in die sancti Valentini tentum, secundum Galfridum Chaucer; Ff. has—Explicit Parliamentum Auium; MS. Arch. Seld. B. 24 has—Here endis the parliament of foulis; Quod Galfride Chaucere; the Longleat MS. has—Here endith the Parlement of foules.

I. (In seven-line stanzas.)

The longe night, whan every creature

Shulde have hir rest in somwhat, as by kinde,

Or elles ne may hir lyf nat long endure,

Hit falleth most in-to my woful minde

How I so fer have broght my-self behinde,

That, sauf the deeth, ther may no-thing me lisse,

So desespaired I am from alle blisse.

This same thoght me lasteth til the morwe,

And from the morwe forth til hit be eve;

Ther nedeth me no care for to borwe,

For bothe I have good leyser and good leve;

Ther is no wight that wol me wo bereve

To wepe y-nogh, and wailen al my fille;

The sore spark of peyne doth me spille.

II. (In Terza Rima; imperfect.)

[The sore spark of peyne doth me spille;]

This Love hath [eek] me set in swich a place

That my desyr [he] never wol fulfille;

For neither pitee, mercy, neither grace

[361]

Can I nat finde; and [fro] my sorwful herte,

For to be deed, I can hit nat arace.

The more I love, the more she doth me smerte;

Through which I see, with-oute remedye,

That from the deeth I may no wyse asterte;

[For this day in hir servise shal I dye].

III. (In Terza Rima; imperfect.)

[Thus am I slain, with sorwes ful dyverse;

Ful longe agoon I oghte have taken hede].

Now sothly, what she hight I wol reherse;

Hir name is Bountee, set in womanhede,

Sadnesse in youthe, and Beautee prydelees,

And Plesaunce, under governaunce and drede;

Hir surname eek is Faire Rewthelees,

The Wyse, y-knit un-to Good Aventure,

That, for I love hir, sleeth me giltelees.

Hir love I best, and shal, whyl I may dure,

Bet than my-self an hundred thousand deel,

Than al this worldes richesse or creature.

Now hath nat Lovë me bestowed weel

To lovë, ther I never shal have part?

Allas! right thus is turned me the wheel,

Thus am I slayn with loves fyry dart.

I can but love hir best, my swete fo;

Love hath me taught no more of his art

But serve alwey, and stinte for no wo.

IV. (In ten-line stanzas.)

[With]-in my trewe careful herte ther is

So moche wo, and [eek] so litel blis,

That wo is me that ever I was bore;

For al that thing which I desyre I mis,

And al that ever I wolde nat, I-wis,

That finde I redy to me evermore;

[362]

And of al this I not to whom me pleyne.

For she that mighte me out of this bringe

Ne reccheth nat whether I wepe or singe;

So litel rewthe hath she upon my peyne.

Allas! whan sleping-time is, than I wake,

Whan I shulde daunce, for fere than I quake;

[Yow rekketh never wher I flete or sinke;]

This hevy lyf I lede for your sake,

Thogh ye ther-of in no wyse hede take,

[For on my wo yow deyneth not to thinke.]

My hertes lady, and hool my lyves quene!

For trewly dorste I seye, as that I fele,

Me semeth that your swete herte of stele

Is whetted now ageynes me to kene.

My dere herte, and best beloved fo,

Why lyketh yow to do me al this wo,

What have I doon that greveth yow, or sayd,

But for I serve and love yow and no mo?

And whylst I live, I wol do ever so;

And therfor, swete, ne beth nat evil apayd.

For so good and so fair as [that] ye be,

Hit were [a] right gret wonder but ye hadde

Of alle servants, bothe goode and badde;

And leest worthy of alle hem, I am he.

But never-the-les, my righte lady swete,

Thogh that I be unconning and unmete

To serve as I best coude ay your hynesse.

Yit is ther fayner noon, that wolde I hete,

Than I, to do yow ese, or elles bete

What-so I wiste were to [yow distresse].

[363]

And hadde I might as good as I have wille,

Than shulde ye fele wher it wer so or noon;

For in this worlde living is ther noon

That fayner wolde your hertes wil fulfille.

For bothe I love, and eek dreed yow so sore,

And algates moot, and have doon yow, ful yore,

That bet loved is noon, ne never shal;

And yit I wolde beseche yow of no more

But leveth wel, and be nat wrooth ther-fore,

And lat me serve yow forth; lo! this is al.

For I am nat so hardy ne so wood

For to desire that ye shulde love me;

For wel I wot, allas! that may nat be;

I am so litel worthy, and ye so good.

For ye be oon the worthiest on-lyve,

And I the most unlykly for to thryve;

Yit, for al this, [now] witeth ye right wele,

That ye ne shul me from your service dryve

That I nil ay, with alle my wittes fyve,

Serve yow trewly, what wo so that I fele.

100

For I am set on yow in swich manere

That, thogh ye never wil upon me rewe,

I moste yow love, and ever been as trewe

As any can or may on-lyve [here].

The more that I love yow, goodly free,

105

The lasse fynde I that ye loven me;

Allas! whan shal that harde wit amende?

Wher is now al your wommanly pitee,

Your gentilesse and your debonairtee,

Wil ye no thing ther-of upon me spende?

110

And so hool, swete, as I am youres al,

And so gret wil as I have yow to serve,

Now, certes, and ye lete me thus sterve,

Yit have ye wonne ther-on but a smal.

[364]

For, at my knowing, I do no-thing why,

115

And this I wol beseche yow hertely,

That, ther ever ye finde, whyl ye live,

A trewer servant to yow than am I,

Leveth [me] thanne, and sleeth me hardely,

And I my deeth to you wol al forgive.

120

And if ye finde no trewer [man than me],

[Why] will ye suffre than that I thus spille,

And for no maner gilt but my good wille?

As good wer thanne untrewe as trewe to be.

But I, my lyf and deeth, to yow obeye,

125

And with right buxom herte hoolly I preye,

As [is] your moste plesure, so doth by me;

Wel lever is me lyken yow and deye

Than for to any thing or thinke or seye

That mighte yow offende in any tyme.

130

And therfor, swete, rewe on my peynes smerte,

And of your grace granteth me som drope;

For elles may me laste ne blis ne hope,

Ne dwellen in my trouble careful herte.

1. Sh. nightes; see l. 8. 2, 3. hir] Sh. theyre. 7. Ed. (1561) dispaired. 12. Sh. me; Ed. my. 14. All insert now before doth. 15. It seems necessary to repeat this line in order to start the series of rimes. 16. Sh. This loue that hathe me set; I omit that, and supply eek. 17. I supply he (i. e. Love).

19. Sh. and yit my; I omit yit, and supply fro. 24. Supplied to complete the rime from Compl. Mars, 189. 25. Supplied from Compl. Pite, 22, 17. 26. Supplied from Anelida, 307. 31. Sh. is eek. 32. Sh. The wyse eknytte; Ph. The wise I-knyt (corrupt?) 33. Sh. hir she; I omit she. 36. Corrupt? Perhaps read richest creature. 40. Sh. fury. 42. Read of alle his? 44. Sh. In; I read With-in. 45. I supply eek.

50. So in Anelida, 237. 54. Sh. ins. lo after is. 55. Sh. ins. lo after fere. 56, 59. Both lines are missing; supplied from Anelida, 181, 182. 57. Sh. ins. lo after lede. 68. Sh. euer do. 70. I supply that. 71. I supply a. 72. Sh. ins. of after bothe. 76. Sh. koude best; Ph. om. best. 77. Sh. noon fayner. 78. Sh. youre; read yow. 79. Sh. wist that were; om. that. Sh. your hyenesse (repeated from l. 76; wrongly); read yow distresse.

82. Sh. ins. þane before is. 83. Sh. wille; Ph. Ed. wil. 86. Sh. better. 88. Sh. leuethe; Ph. lovith. 96. I supply now. 98. Sh. ne wil (for nil). 100. Ed. (1561) has set so hy vpon your whele. 102. Sh. beon euer. 103. Sh. man can; I omit man. I supply here; the line is imperfect. 104. Sh. But the; I omit But. 113. Ed. om. a.

114. Sh. nought; read nothing. 116. Sh. whyles. 118. I supply me. 120. Sh. no trewer so verrayly; Ed. no trewer verely (false rime). 121. I supply Why. 124-133. Unique stanza, in Ph. only. 126. I supply is. 127. Ph. For wele; omit For. 129. Ph. That yow myght offenden. 132. Ph. no blisse. 133. Ph. dwelle withyn. Colophon. Ph. Explicit Pyte: dan Chaucer Lauteire (?).

The compleynt of feire Anelida and fals Arcite.

Proem.

Thou ferse god of armes, Mars the rede,

That in the frosty country called Trace,

Within thy grisly temple ful of drede

Honoured art, as patroun of that place!

With thy Bellona, Pallas, ful of grace,

Be present, and my song continue and gye;

At my beginning thus to thee I crye.

For hit ful depe is sonken in my minde,

With pitous herte in English for tendyte

This olde storie, in Latin which I finde,

Of quene Anelida and fals Arcite,

That elde, which that al can frete and byte,

As hit hath freten mony a noble storie,

Hath nigh devoured out of our memorie.

Be favorable eek, thou Polymnia,

On Parnaso that, with thy sustres glade,

By Elicon, not fer from Cirrea,

Singest with vois memorial in the shade,

Under the laurer which that may not fade,

[366]

And do that I my ship to haven winne;

First folow I Stace, and after him Corinne.

The Story.

Iamque domos patrias, &c.; Statii Thebais, xii. 519.

Whan Theseus, with werres longe and grete,

The aspre folk of Cithe had over-come,

With laurer crouned, in his char gold-bete,

Hoom to his contre-houses is y-come;—

For which the peple blisful, al and somme,

So cryden, that unto the sterres hit wente,

And him to honouren dide al hir entente;—

Beforn this duk, in signe of hy victorie,

The trompes come, and in his baner large

The image of Mars; and, in token of glorie,

Men mighten seen of tresor many a charge,

Many a bright helm, and many a spere and targe,

Many a fresh knight, and many a blisful route,

On hors, on fote, in al the felde aboute.

Ipolita his wyf, the hardy quene

Of Cithia, that he conquered hadde,

With Emelye, hir yonge suster shene,

Faire in a char of golde he with him ladde,

That al the ground aboute hir char she spradde

With brightnesse of the beautee in hir face,

Fulfild of largesse and of alle grace.

[367]

With his triumphe and laurer crouned thus,

In al the floure of fortunes yevinge,

Lete I this noble prince Theseus

Toward Athenes in his wey rydinge,

And founde I wol in shortly for to bringe

The slye wey of that I gan to wryte,

Of quene Anelida and fals Arcite.

Mars, which that through his furious course of yre,

The olde wrath of Iuno to fulfille,

Hath set the peples hertes bothe on fyre

Of Thebes and Grece, everich other to kille

With blody speres, ne rested never stille,

But throng now her, now ther, among hem bothe,

That everich other slough, so wer they wrothe.

For whan Amphiorax and Tydeus,

Ipomedon, Parthonopee also

Were dede, and slayn [was] proud Campaneus,

And whan the wrecches Thebans, bretheren two,

Were slayn, and king Adrastus hoom a-go,

So desolat stood Thebes and so bare,

That no wight coude remedie of his care.

And whan the olde Creon gan espye

How that the blood roial was broght adoun,

He held the cite by his tirannye,

And did the gentils of that regioun

To been his frendes, and dwellen in the toun.

So what for love of him, and what for awe,

The noble folk wer to the toune y-drawe.

[368]

Among al these, Anelida the quene

Of Ermony was in that toun dwellinge,

That fairer was then is the sonne shene;

Through-out the world so gan hir name springe,

That hir to seen had every wight lykinge;

For, as of trouthe, is ther noon hir liche,

Of al the women in this worlde riche.

Yong was this quene, of twenty yeer of elde,

Of midel stature, and of swich fairnesse,

That nature had a Ioye hir to behelde;

And for to speken of hir stedfastnesse,

She passed hath Penelope and Lucresse,

And shortly, if she shal be comprehended,

In hir ne mighte no-thing been amended.

This Theban knight [Arcite] eek, sooth to seyn,

Was yong, and ther-with-al a lusty knight,

But he was double in love and no-thing pleyn,

And subtil in that crafte over any wight,

And with his cunning wan this lady bright;

For so ferforth he gan hir trouthe assure,

That she him [trust] over any creature.

What shuld I seyn? she loved Arcite so,

That, whan that he was absent any throwe,

Anon hir thoghte hir herte brast a-two;

For in hir sight to hir he bar him lowe,

So that she wende have al his herte y-knowe;

But he was fals; it nas but feyned chere,

As nedeth not to men such craft to lere.

[369]

But never-the-les ful mikel besinesse

100

Had he, er that he mighte his lady winne,

And swoor he wolde dyen for distresse,

Or from his wit he seyde he wolde twinne.

Alas, the whyle! for hit was routhe and sinne,

That she upon his sorowes wolde rewe,

105

But no-thing thenketh the fals as doth the trewe.

Hir fredom fond Arcite in swich manere,

That al was his that she hath, moche or lyte,

Ne to no creature made she chere

Ferther than that hit lyked to Arcite;

110

Ther was no lak with which he mighte hir wyte,

She was so ferforth yeven him to plese,

That al that lyked him, hit did hir ese.

Ther nas to hir no maner lettre y-sent

That touched love, from any maner wight,

115

That she ne shewed hit him, er hit was brent;

So pleyn she was, and did hir fulle might,

That she nil hyden nothing from hir knight,

Lest he of any untrouthe hir upbreyde;

Withouten bode his heste she obeyde.

120

And eek he made him Ielous over here,

That, what that any man had to hir seyd,

Anoon he wolde preyen hir to swere

What was that word, or make him evel apayd;

Than wende she out of hir wit have brayd;

125

But al this nas but sleight and flaterye,

Withouten love he feyned Ielosye.

[370]

And al this took she so debonerly,

That al his wille, hir thoghte hit skilful thing,

And ever the lenger loved him tenderly,

130

And did him honour as he were a king.

Hir herte was wedded to him with a ring;

So ferforth upon trouthe is hir entente,

That wher he goth, hir herte with him wente.

Whan she shal ete, on him is so hir thoght,

135

That wel unnethe of mete took she keep;

And whan that she was to hir reste broght,

On him she thoghte alwey til that she sleep;

Whan he was absent, prevely she weep;

Thus liveth fair Anelida the quene

140

For fals Arcite, that did hir al this tene.

This fals Arcite, of his new-fangelnesse,

For she to him so lowly was and trewe,

Took lesse deyntee for hir stedfastnesse,

And saw another lady, proud and newe,

145

And right anon he cladde him in hir hewe—

Wot I not whether in whyte, rede, or grene—

And falsed fair Anelida the quene.

But never-the-les, gret wonder was hit noon

Thogh he wer fals, for hit is kinde of man,

150

Sith Lamek was, that is so longe agoon,

To been in love as fals as ever he can;

He was the firste fader that began

To loven two, and was in bigamye;

And he found tentes first, but-if men lye.

[371]

155

This fals Arcite sumwhat moste he feyne,

Whan he wex fals, to covere his traitorye,

Right as an hors, that can both byte and pleyne;

For he bar hir on honde of trecherye,

And swoor he coude hir doublenesse espye,

160

And al was falsnes that she to him mente;

Thus swoor this theef, and forth his way he wente.

Alas! what herte might enduren hit,

For routhe or wo, hir sorow for to telle?

Or what man hath the cunning or the wit?

165

Or what man might with-in the chambre dwelle,

If I to him rehersen shal the helle,

That suffreth fair Anelida the quene

For fals Arcite, that did hir al this tene?

She wepeth, waileth, swowneth pitously,

170

To grounde deed she falleth as a stoon;

Al crampissheth hir limes crokedly,

She speketh as hir wit were al agoon;

Other colour then asshen hath she noon,

Noon other word she speketh moche or lyte,

175

But 'mercy, cruel herte myn, Arcite!'

And thus endureth, til that she was so mate

That she ne hath foot on which she may sustene;

But forth languisshing ever in this estate,

Of which Arcite hath nother routhe ne tene;

180

His herte was elles-where, newe and grene,

That on hir wo ne deyneth him not to thinke,

Him rekketh never wher she flete or sinke.

[372]

His newe lady holdeth him so narowe

Up by the brydel, at the staves ende,

185

That every word, he dradde hit as an arowe;

Hir daunger made him bothe bowe and bende,

And as hir liste, made him turne or wende;

For she ne graunted him in hir livinge

No grace, why that he hath lust to singe;

190

But drof him forth, unnethe liste hir knowe

That he was servaunt to hir ladyshippe,

But lest that he wer proude, she held him lowe;

Thus serveth he, withouten fee or shipe,

She sent him now to londe, now to shippe;

195

And for she yaf him daunger al his fille,

Therfor she had him at hir owne wille.

Ensample of this, ye thrifty wimmen alle,

Take here Anelida and fals Arcite,

That for hir liste him 'dere herte' calle,

200

And was so meek, therfor he loved hir lyte;

The kinde of mannes herte is to delyte

In thing that straunge is, also god me save!

For what he may not gete, that wolde he have.

Now turne we to Anelida ageyn,

205

That pyneth day by day in languisshing;

But whan she saw that hir ne gat no geyn,

Upon a day, ful sorowfully weping,

She caste hir for to make a compleyning,

And with hir owne honde she gan hit wryte;

210

And sente hit to hir Theban knight Arcite.

[373]

The compleynt of Anelida the quene upon fals Arcite.

Proem.

So thirleth with the poynt of remembraunce,

The swerd of sorowe, y-whet with fals plesaunce,

Myn herte, bare of blis and blak of hewe,

That turned is in quaking al my daunce,

215

My suretee in a-whaped countenaunce;

Sith hit availeth not for to ben trewe;

For who-so trewest is, hit shal hir rewe,

That serveth love and doth hir observaunce

Alwey to oon, and chaungeth for no newe.

(Strophe.)

220

1. I wot my-self as wel as any wight;

For I loved oon with al my herte and might

More then my-self, an hundred thousand sythe,

And called him my hertes lyf, my knight,

And was al his, as fer as hit was right;

225

And whan that he was glad, than was I blythe,

And his disese was my deeth as swythe;

And he ayein his trouthe me had plight

For ever-more, his lady me to kythe.

2. Now is he fals, alas! and causeles,

230

And of my wo he is so routheles,

That with a worde him list not ones deyne

To bring ayein my sorowful herte in pees,

For he is caught up in a-nother lees.

[374]

Right as him list, he laugheth at my peyne,

235

And I ne can myn herte not restreyne,

That I ne love him alwey, never-the-les;

And of al this I not to whom me pleyne.

3. And shal I pleyne—alas! the harde stounde—

Un-to my foo that yaf my herte a wounde,

240

And yet desyreth that myn harm be more?

Nay, certes! ferther wol I never founde

Non other help, my sores for to sounde.

My desteny hath shapen it ful yore;

I wil non other medecyne ne lore;

245

I wil ben ay ther I was ones bounde,

That I have seid, be seid for ever-more!

4. Alas! wher is become your gentilesse!

Your wordes ful of plesaunce and humblesse?

Your observaunces in so low manere,

250

And your awayting and your besinesse

Upon me, that ye calden your maistresse,

Your sovereyn lady in this worlde here?

Alas! and is ther nother word ne chere

Ye vouchesauf upon myn hevinesse?

255

Alas! your love, I bye hit al to dere.

5. Now certes, swete, thogh that ye

Thus causeles the cause be

Of my dedly adversitee,

Your manly reson oghte it to respyte

260

To slee your frend, and namely me,

That never yet in no degree

Offended yow, as wisly he,

That al wot, out of wo my soule quyte!

[375]

¶ But for I shewed yow, Arcite,

265

Al that men wolde to me wryte,

And was so besy, yow to delyte—

My honour save—meke, kinde, and free,

Therfor ye putte on me the wyte,

And of me recche not a myte,

270

Thogh that the swerd of sorow byte

My woful herte through your crueltee.

6. My swete foo,why do ye so,for shame?

And thenke yethat furthered beyour name,

To love a newe,and been untrewe?nay!

275

And putte yowin sclaunder nowand blame,

And do to meadversiteeand grame,

That love yow most,god, wel thou wost!alway?

Yet turn ayeyn,and be al pleynsom day,

And than shal thisthat now is misbe game,

280

And al for-yive,whyl that I livemay.

(Antistrophe.)

1. Lo! herte myn, al this is for to seyne,

As whether shal I preye or elles pleyne?

Whiche is the wey to doon yow to be trewe?

For either mot I have yow in my cheyne,

285

Or with the dethe ye mot departe us tweyne;

Ther ben non other mene weyes newe;

For god so wisly on my soule rewe,

As verily ye sleen me with the peyne;

That may ye see unfeyned of myn hewe.

[376]

290

2. For thus ferforth have I my deth [y]-soght,

My-self I mordre with my prevy thoght;

For sorow and routhe of your unkindenesse

I wepe, I wake, I faste; al helpeth noght;

I weyve Ioy that is to speke of oght,

295

I voyde companye, I flee gladnesse;

Who may avaunte hir bet of hevinesse

Then I? and to this plyte have ye me broght,

Withoute gilt; me nedeth no witnesse.

3. And sholde I preye, and weyve womanhede?

300

Nay! rather deth then do so foul a dede,

And axe mercy gilteles! what nede?

And if I pleyne what lyf that I lede,

Yow rekketh not; that know I, out of drede;

And if I unto yow myn othes bede

305

For myn excuse, a scorn shal be my mede;

Your chere floureth, but hit wol not sede;

Ful longe agoon I oghte have take hede.

4. For thogh I hadde yow to-morow ageyn,

I might as wel holde Averill fro reyn,

310

As holde yow, to make yow stedfast.

Almighty god, of trouthe sovereyn,

Wher is the trouthe of man? who hath hit sleyn?

Who that hem loveth shal hem fynde as fast

As in a tempest is a roten mast.

315

Is that a tame best that is ay feyn

To renne away, when he is leest agast?

[377]

5. Now mercy, swete, if I misseye,

Have I seyd oght amis, I preye?

I not; my wit is al aweye.

320

I fare as doth the song of Chaunte-pleure.

For now I pleyne, and now I pleye,

I am so mased that I deye,

Arcite hath born awey the keye

Of al my worlde, and my good aventure!

325

¶ For in this worlde nis creature

Wakinge, in more discomfiture

Then I, ne more sorow endure;

And if I slepe a furlong wey or tweye,

Than thinketh me, that your figure

330

Before me stant, clad in asure,

To profren eft a newe assure

For to be trewe, and mercy me to preye.

6. The longe nightthis wonder sightI drye,

And on the dayfor this afrayI dye,

335

And of al thisright noght, y-wis,ye recche.

Ne never momyn yën twobe drye,

And to your routheand to your troutheI crye.

But welawey!to fer be theyto fecche;

Thus holdeth memy destineea wrecche.

340

But me to redeout of this dredeor gye

Ne may my wit,so weyk is hit,not strecche.

Conclusion.

Than ende I thus, sith I may do no more,

I yeve hit up for now and ever-more;

[378]

For I shal never eft putten in balaunce

345

My sekernes, ne lerne of love the lore.

But as the swan, I have herd seyd ful yore,

Ayeins his deth shal singe in his penaunce,

So singe I here my destiny or chaunce,

How that Arcite Anelida so sore

350

Hath thirled with the poynt of remembraunce!

The story continued.

Whan that Anelida this woful quene

Hath of hir hande writen in this wyse,

With face deed, betwixe pale and grene,

She fel a-swowe; and sith she gan to ryse,

355

And unto Mars avoweth sacrifyse

With-in the temple, with a sorowful chere,

357

That shapen was as ye shal after here.

(Unfinished.)

The chief authorities are: Harl. (Harl. 7333); F. (Fairfax 16); Tn. (Tanner 346); D. (Digby 181); Cx.(Caxton's edition); B. (Bodley 638); Lt. (Longleat MS.). Th. = Thynne's ed. 1532. I follow F. mainly, correcting the spelling; and give selected variations. Title from F.; B. has boke for compleynt.

1. Tn. ferse; F. fers. 3. Harl. D. Cx. temple; rest temples. 6. F. songe. F. contynew; D. contynue. F. guye; Tn. gye. 7. F. I to the; Harl. Tn. D. to the I. 9. Cx. for tendyte; Harl. for to endite; rest to endyte. 11. F. Analida; Cx. Anelida; Tn. D. Annelida. 12. Harl. that; Cx. that (for which); rest om. 15. F. eke. Harl. Polymea; rest Polymya, Polymia; Th. Polymnia. 16. Harl. Cx. with; rest hath (!). Harl. Cx. sustren. 17. F. B. Cx. Cirrea; D. Cirea; Tn. Circa (wrongly).

20. Tn. ship; F. shippe. After l. 21, 3 Latin lines are quoted from Statius (see note). 23. F. folke. Cx. Cithye. 24. Harl. D. Cx. Lt. With; F. The (caught from l. 23). D. crowned; F. corovned. 25. All Home. Tn. ycome; F. he come. 27. Cx. cryeden; but rest cryden, criden. Harl. unto; rest to. Tn. wente; F. went. 28. Tn. entente; F. entent. 29. F. Harl. Beforne; Cx. Biforn; Tn. D. B. Lt. Before. Harl. duk; F. duke. Harl. inserts hie (= hy); Addit. 16165 has his; the rest wrongly omit; accent o in victórie. 31. Cx. tokening. Harl. and tokenyng of his glorie. 32. F. sene; Harl. seen. 33. Tn. many; F. mony (5 times). 35. on] Harl. Cx. and. 36. Tn. Ypolita. F. wife. 37. Harl. D. Cithea. D. hadde; Lt. hade; rest had. 39. F. chare. D. ladde; Lt. lade; rest lad. 40. Harl. ground; F. grounde. D. spradde; rest sprad. 41. Harl. Cx. the; rest omit. 42. F. Fulfilled; al.

43. D. Cx. Lt. crowned; rest corouned. 44. F. yevyng; Tn. gifeynge. 45. F. B. Let; rest Lete. 46. F. ryding; Tn. ridinge. 47. F. bring; Tn. brynge. 48. D. slye (rightly); Tn. sly; F. sley. 50. F. thro. Harl. Tn. D. furious; F. furiouse. 51. Harl. Tn. wrath; F. wrethe. 52. F. hertis. 53. F. B. Tn. insert and after Grece; which D. Lt. Harl. Cx. omit. Harl. yche othir for to kylle (a good reading). Cf. l. 56. F. eueriche. 55. D. among; F. amonge. D. bothe; F. both (but wrothe in l. 56). 56. F. eueriche. 58. Harl. Parthonopee; Cx. Parthonope; D. Partonope; Tn. Partinope; F. B. Prothonolope(!). 59. Harl. Tn. dede; F. ded. I supply was, which sense and metre require; Cx. supplies and. F. proude. 60. So F. Tn. B. Lt.; Harl. D. Cx. put wrechid (wrecchid) for wrecches. 61. Cx. hom; rest home. 62. F. stode. 66. F. helde. 70. F. folke.

72. Tn. dwellynge; F. duellyng. 73. F. sunne; Harl. Tn. D. Cx. sonne. 74. D. Through; F. Thorogh. Tn. sprynge; F. spring. 75. Tn. likynge; F. likyng. 77. Harl. Tn. D. Cx. the; F. thes. 78. twenty is written xxti in the MSS. D. olde; Cx. olde; Lt. of olde; Harl. eld; rest of elde. 79. Tn. mydelle; F. mydil. F. suche. 80. F. Ioy. 81. D. stedfastnesse; F. stidfastnesse. 82. F. B. both; rest hath. Harl. Th. penelope; F. and others penolope. 84. Harl. ne; rest om. Tn. myghte; F. myght. 85. I supply Arcite; line too short. F. seyne. 86. Harl. yong; F. yonge. Harl. there with alle (so D. Cx. Lt.); rest therto with al. 87. F. pleyne. 88. Harl. any; F. eny. 89. D. Lt. Cx. wan; F. whan (!). 90. F. ferforthe. F. can; rest gan. 91. Th. Tn. Harl. trusteth; rest trusted; read trust. D. any; F. eny. 93. F. eny throw. 94. F. thoght; hert. 95. F. bare. 96. F. hert.

101. Harl. Tn. D.B. swore (for swoor); Cx. sware; F. sworne. 105. Tn. thenketh; F. thinketh. 106. F. fonde; suche. 107. F. B. wrongly insert both before moche; rest omit. F. B. and; rest or. 109. Harl. Cx. that; rest omit. 110. F. wiche; myght. 111. Tn. yeuen; F. yevin. 112. F. dyd her hert an ese; Harl. Cx. omit hert an; others vary. 114, 118. D. any; F. eny. 116. Tn. D. B. fulle; rest ful. 119. (See 126.) Harl. Cx. heste; rest herte, hert. 120. F. eke. Tn. Ielous; F. Ielouse. D. Cx. here (for the rime); F. her. 121. Harl. any; F. eny. F. seyde. 123. F. worde. Harl. Tn. apayde; F. apaied; D. B. apaid. 124. F. wend. Cx. brayd; Tn. breyde; F. breyed. 125. Harl. Cx. this nas; rest was. D. sleight; Cx. sleyght; F. sleght. 126. Harl. Withouten; F. With out; (and so in 119).

127. F. toke. F. B. as; rest so. 128. Harl. Tn. wille; F. wil. F. thoght. Koch proposes to omit hit. 129. All ins. she after lenger; it is not wanted. 131. F. ringe. 132. Harl. Cx. So; rest For so. Harl. Tn. entente; F. entent. 133. Tn. herte; F. hert. Harl. Tn. wente; F. went. 135. F. toke; kepe. 136. Harl. Cx. that; rest omit. Harl. D. Cx. reste; F. rest. 137. Tn. thoghte; F. thoght. Harl. Tn. Cx. alwey; F. ay. F. slepe. 138. F. wepe. 139. Cx. fayr; F. feire. 141. D. newfangilnesse; Tn. newfangulnes; F. new fanglesse 143. F. Toke. D. sted-; F. stid-. 144. F. proude. 145. Harl. D. cladde; F. clad. 146. F. whethir. 148. F. lesse grete. 149. Harl. Cx. omit the, which F. and others insert after is. 152. Harl. Tn. firste; F. first. 154. F. founde.

156. Harl. Tn. D. couer; Cx. couere; F. coueren. 157. F. Tn. pleyn. 159, 161. All swore. 160. Harl. Tn. mente; F. ment. 161. D. Cx. theef; F. thefe. Harl. Tn. wente; F. went. 162. Tn. herte; F. hert. Cx. enduren; rest endure. 167. F. feir. 169. Cx. swowneth; D. sownyth; F. swoneth. 170. Harl. Tn. D. grounde; F. ground. F. dede; ston. 171. Harl. Al; rest om. Cx. Crampissheth; Lt. Crampuissheth; Tn. Crampicheth; F. cravmpysshe. 172. F. agon. 174. Harl. Noon; Cx. None; the rest insert Ne before Noon. For she speketh, all the MSS. have speketh she. 175. F. mercie; hert. 178. F. B. for; rest forth. 179. Tn. D. nothir; F. nouther. 180. F. wher; rest where. 182. Harl. nought; Cx. not (for never). Harl. D. Cx. whether; but wher is short for whether. Cf. Compt. unto Pite, 110; see note.

183. All but Harl. Cx. Th. insert up before so; see next line. 184. F. bridil. 185. F. worde. B. D. Lt. dredith; F. Tn. dred hit; Harl. Cx. drad; read dradde hit. 187. Tn. Cx. liste; Harl. lyste; F. lust. 190. Harl. Cx. vnnethe; F. vnneth. F. list. 191. All un-to; read to. 192. Cx. proud; F. proude. Harl. Cx. held; F. helde. 193. Harl. withouten; F. with out. Harl. Cx. mete; rest fee. F. B. Lt. shippe; D. shipe; Cx. sype; Harl. shepe (!); Tn. shep (!). 195. D. yaf; F. yafe. 196. Harl. owne; F. ovne. 197. Harl Tn. D. thrifty; F. thrifte. 198. B. here; F. her (i. e. here); Tn. D. here of; Cx. Lt. hede of. 199. Tn. Cx. liste (pt. t.); F. list. Harl. Cx. dere herte; F. her der hert. 200. All meke. 201. All kynde (kinde). F. hert. 203. Harl. Cx. he (twice); F. and others wrongly have they the 2nd time. 205. F. Tn. be; rest by. 206. F. sawe. 208. Harl. Tn. caste; F. cast. 209. Harl. owne; F. ovne. 210. Th. sente; D. Cx. sende; rest sent. F. B. omit hit; rest retain.

211. Harl. thirllethe; Cx. thirleth; F. B. thirled (!). 212. B. swerd; F. suerde. F. y-whet; B. I-whet; rest whet. 213. Tn. herte; F. hert. Harl. Tn. D. blak; F. blake. 214. Harl. Cx. in. rest to; see 215. 215. Tn. B. Lt. surete; F. suerte. F. B. in to; rest in. D. Cx. a whaped; Harl. a whaaped; F. a waped. 216. Harl. for; rest om. 217. Harl. trewest; F. truest. Harl. hir; Cx. her; F. and others him (but see l. 218). 218. F. dothe. 220. Harl. any; F. eny. 221. F. hert. 223. F. B. cleped; rest called. F. hertis life. 227. Harl. D. Cx. B. plight; F. I-plyght. 229. So Tn. Harl. Cx. D; F. B. Alas now hath he left me causeles. 232. Tn. herte, pees; F. hert, pes. 233. B. caught; F. caght. Tn. D. Cx. lees; F. les.

234. F. B. me (!); rest him. 235. F. hert. 238. F. pleyn. Harl. Tn. harde; F. hard. 239. F. yafe; hert. 240. F. harme. 241. F. certis. All be founde; but be is copied in from the line above; see l. 47. 242. F. helpe. 243. Tn. desteny; F. destany. F. B. om. ful. 246. F. seide (twice.) 252. F. souereigne. 253. I supply and from Cx.; Harl. has And is there nowe neyther. 254. Lt. vouchesauf; Cx. vouchen sauf; F. vouchesafe. 256. F. certis. 257. F. B. causer (for caus-e); rest cause. 258. F. dedely. 259. F. oght. 260. Harl. Lt. slee; Tn. D. Cx. sle; F. slene. F. frende. 263. Harl. wot; F. wote.

264, 265. Harl. Cx. But for I was so pleyne, Arcyte, In alle my werkes, much and lyte; and omit was in l. 266. 267. F. honor. Tn. saue; F. D. safe; Harl. Cx. sauf. 268. F. put. 269. Harl. Tn. recche; F. rek. 270. F. B. om. that. F. suerde. 271. Tn. herte; F. hert. F. thro. 272. F. suete. 274. Harl. Tn. vntrewe; F. vntrew. 275. Harl. putte; F. put. 278. Tn. D. Ff. Lt. turne; rest come. 279. Tn. Harl. Cx. D. Lt. And then shall this that now is mis ben (be); F. B. And turne al this that hath be mys to. 280. F. foryeve; Tn. foryife; Harl. 372, foryiue (rightly). 281. F. hert. Harl. seyne (gerund); F. seyn. 282. F. wheder; prey; pleyn. 284, 5, 8. F. cheyn, tweyn, peyn. 287. D. Cx. on; Harl. of; F. Tn. B. vpon. 288. D. verily; F. verrely.

290. Harl. Cx. omit this stanza. F. dethe (wrongly); rest deth. All soght, sought; read y-soght. 291. D. B. mordre; F. mourdre. 292. F. vnkyndnesse. 293. Tn. D. faste; F. fast. 296. F. avaunt. Tn. B. Lt. bet; F. beter. 298. Tn. Lt. With oute; F. With out. 299. Some of the final rimes in this stanza are forced ones. F. B. shal; rest sholde (shulde). F. prey. 300. F. dethe; Harl. Cx. dye. F. foule. 301. F. mercie. Tn. gilteles; F. giltles. 302. Harl. pleyne; F. pleyn. F. lyfe. Harl. Cx. ins. that; F. and others omit. 304. Tn. D. unto; F. to. 305. F. skorne. 306. F. B. om. hit. 307. F. and others insert to before have; Tn. D. Lt. Cx. omit. 308. D. hadde; F. had. 309. F. Apprile; Harl. Aueryll. 310. F. B. yow be; rest om. be. F. stidfast. 311. F. souereigne. 312. F. slayn. 313. Tn. D. Lt. She; Harl. Sheo; rest Who. F. B. insert she before shal. 314. F. om. 1st a. 315. Is] F. this (!) 316. Harl. fleen; Cx. fle (for renne). F. lest.

317. Harl. Cx. But; rest Now. F. mercie. F. myssey (omitting e in-eye throughout, wrongly); Harl. myssaye, &c. 318. So F. B.; rest Have I ought seyd out of the weye. F. seyde. 319. Harl. Cx. half (for al). 320. F. dothe; songe. F. chaunt plure; Harl. Chaunte pleure. 321. F. pleyn. 323. F. borne. 325. Harl. Cx. nys; F. B. D. ther is no; Tn. ther nis no (too many syllables). 328. F. furlonge. F. B. other (for or); rest or. 329. F. thenketh; Tn. thynketh. 330. Tn. stant; F. stont. 331. Harl. Cx. To profren efte; D. Tn. Lt. Efte to profre; F. B. To suere yet. Tn. D. Cx. Lt. assure; F. asure. 332. F. trew; mercie. Harl. and love me til I dye; Cx. and love me til he deye. 334. F. B. this; D. Tn. suche; Harl. Cx. thilke. 335. F. reche; Tn. D. recche; and so with feche, &c. 339. F. destany; Tn. destyne (for the rime). 341. F. weyke. 343. Harl. D. Cx. yeve; F. yf; Tn. gife.

344. F. efte. Tn. Cx. putten; F. put. 347. Tn. deth; F. dethe. Tn. D. Lt. Ff. insert in; rest om. 348. Harl. Tn. destenye; D. destynye; F. destany. 349. F. Analida. F. B. to; rest so. 351. This stanza only occurs in Tn. D. Lt. Ff. Th.; I follow Tn. mainly. Tn. Annelida; wofull. 352. Tn. Lt. Ff. of; D. with. 353. D. Th. deed; rest dede. D. betwixe; Th. betwyxe; Ff. bitwixte; Tn. Lt. betwix. 354. Tn. felle; Th. fel. Ff. a swowe; Tn. a swow. 355. Lt. Th. avoweth; D. avowith; Tn. avoyth. 356. Tn. With-Inne; rest With-in. Tn. sorofulle. 357. Tn. shapyn; aftyr. shal after] Lt. Th. may plainly.

Adam scriveyn, if ever it thee bifalle

Boece or Troilus to wryten newe,

Under thy lokkes thou most have the scalle,

But after my making thou wryte trewe.

So ofte a daye I mot thy werk renewe,

Hit to correcte and eek to rubbe and scrape;

And al is through thy negligence and rape.

From T. (= MS. R. 3. 20 in Trin. Coll. Library, Cambridge). It also occurs in Stowe's edition (1561).

Title; T. has—Chauciers wordes .a. Geffrey vn-to Adame his owen scryveyne; Stowe has—Chaucers woordes vnto his owne Scriuener.

1. T. scryveyne; byfalle. 2. T. Troylus for to; nuwe. 3. T. thy long lokkes (see note); thowe. 4. T. affter; makyng thowe wryte more truwe (see note). 5. T. offt; renuwe. 6. T. It; corect; Stowe has correcte. T. eke. 7. T. thorugh; neclygence.

A blisful lyf, a paisible and a swete

Ledden the peples in the former age;

They helde hem payed of fruites, that they ete,

Which that the feldes yave hem by usage;

They ne were nat forpampred with outrage;

Unknowen was the quern and eek the melle;

They eten mast, hawes, and swich pounage,

And dronken water of the colde welle.

Yit nas the ground nat wounded with the plough,

But corn up-sprong, unsowe of mannes hond,

The which they gniden, and eete nat half y-nough

No man yit knew the forwes of his lond;

No man the fyr out of the flint yit fond;

Un-korven and un-grobbed lay the vyne;

No man yit in the morter spyces grond

To clarre, ne to sause of galantyne.

No mader, welde, or wood no litestere

Ne knew; the flees was of his former hewe;

No flesh ne wiste offence of egge or spere;

No coyn ne knew man which was fals or trewe;

[381]

No ship yit karf the wawes grene and blewe;

No marchaunt yit ne fette outlandish ware;

No trompes for the werres folk ne knewe,

No toures heye, and walles rounde or square.

What sholde it han avayled to werreye?

Ther lay no profit, ther was no richesse,

But cursed was the tyme, I dar wel seye,

That men first dide hir swety bysinesse

To grobbe up metal, lurkinge in darknesse,

And in the riveres first gemmes soghte.

Allas! than sprong up al the cursednesse

Of covetyse, that first our sorwe broghte!

Thise tyraunts putte hem gladly nat in pres,

No wildnesse, ne no busshes for to winne

Ther poverte is, as seith Diogenes,

Ther as vitaile is eek so skars and thinne

That noght but mast or apples is ther-inne.

But, ther as bagges been and fat vitaile,

Ther wol they gon, and spare for no sinne

With al hir ost the cite for tassaile.

Yit were no paleis-chaumbres, ne non halles;

In caves and [in] wodes softe and swete

Slepten this blissed folk with-oute walles,

On gras or leves in parfit quiete.

No doun of fetheres, ne no bleched shete

Was kid to hem, but in seurtee they slepte;

Hir hertes were al oon, with-oute galles,

Everich of hem his feith to other kepte.

[382]

Unforged was the hauberk and the plate;

The lambish peple, voyd of alle vyce,

Hadden no fantasye to debate,

But ech of hem wolde other wel cheryce;

No pryde, non envye, non avaryce,

No lord, no taylage by no tyrannye;

Humblesse and pees, good feith, the emperice,

[Fulfilled erthe of olde curtesye.]

Yit was not Iupiter the likerous,

That first was fader of delicacye,

Come in this world; ne Nembrot, desirous

To reynen, had nat maad his toures hye.

Allas, allas! now may men wepe and crye!

For in our dayes nis but covetyse

[And] doublenesse, and tresoun and envye,

Poysoun, manslauhtre, and mordre in sondry wyse.

Finit Etas prima.Chaucers.

1. I. Blysful; paysyble. 2. I. poeples; Hh. peplis. 3. I. paied of the; Hh. paied with the (but omit the). I. fructes; Hh. frutes. 4. I. Whiche. 5. I. weere; Hh. were. I. Hh. owtrage. 6. I. Onknowyn. I. quyerne; Hh. qwerne. I. ek. 7. I. swych pownage. 9. I. grownd; wownded; plowh. 11. I. gnodded; Hh. knoddyd; read gniden; see note. I. I-nowh. 12. I. knewe; Hh. knew. 13. I, owt; flynt; fonde. 15. I. spices. 16. I. sawse; Hh. sause. I. galentyne; Hh. galantine. 17. I. madyr; Hh. madder. Hh. wellyd (wrongly), I. wod; Hh. woode. 18. I. knewh. I. fles; Hh. flese (for flees). I. is (for his); Hh. hys. 19. I. flessh; wyste. 20. I. knewh. Hh. was; I. is.

22. I. owt-. 23. I. inserts batails (Hh. batayllys) after No. 24. I. towres; rownde. 26. I. profyt; rychesse. 27. I. corsed; Hh. cursyd. 28. I. fyrst; Hh. first. I. dede; bysynesse. 29. I. lurkynge. Hh. derknesse; I. dirkenesse. 30. I. Ryuerys fyrst gemmys sowhte. 31. I. cursydnesse. 32. Hh. couetyse; I. coueytyse. I. fyrst owr; browhte. 33. I. Thyse tyrauntz. Both put. 34. I. inserts places (Hh. place of) after No. I. wynne. 36. I. vitayle; ek. 37. I nat (for noght); Hh. nowt. 39. I. synne. 40. I. Cyte. I. forto asayle; Hh. for to asayle. 41. Hh. were; I. was. 42. I. kanes. I. Hh. om. 2nd in; which I supply. 43. I. Sleptin; blyssed; with-owte. 44. Hh. On; I. Or. I. parfyt Ioye reste and quiete (!); Hh. parfite Ioy and quiete (!). 45. I. down. 46. I. kyd. I. surte; Hh. surt. 47. I. weere; on; -owte. 48. I. Euerych; oother.

49. I. hawberke. 50. I. lambyssh. I. poeple; Hh. pepyl. Hh. voyd; I. voyded. Hh. vice; I. vyse. 51. I. fantesye. 52. I. eche; oother. 53. I. pride. 54. I. tyranye. 55. Hh. Humblesse; I. Vmblesse. I. pes. 56. Not in the MSS.; I supply it. Koch suggests—Yit hadden in this worlde the maistrye. 57. I. Iuppiter; Hh. Iupiter. I. lykerous. 58. I. fyrst; fadyr; delicasie. 59. I. desyrous. 60. I. regne; towres. 61. Hh. men; which I. omits. 62. I. owre. 63. I. Hh. omit first And, which I supply. I. Hh. Dowblenesse. 64. I. Poyson and manslawtre; Hh. Poysonne manslawtyr. Finit, &c.; in Hh. only.

Balades de visage sanz peinture.

I. Le Pleintif countre Fortune.

This wrecched worldes transmutacioun,

As wele or wo, now povre and now honour,

With-outen ordre or wys discrecioun

Governed is by Fortunes errour;

But natheles, the lak of hir favour

Ne may nat don me singen, though I dye,

Iay tout perdu mon temps et mon labour:'

For fynally, Fortune, I thee defye!

Yit is me left the light of my resoun,

To knowen frend fro fo in thy mirour.

So muche hath yit thy whirling up and doun

Y-taught me for to knowen in an hour.

But trewely, no force of thy reddour

To him that over him-self hath the maystrye!

My suffisaunce shal be my socour:

For fynally, Fortune, I thee defye!

O Socrates, thou stedfast champioun,

She never mighte be thy tormentour;

Thou never dreddest hir oppressioun,

Ne in hir chere founde thou no savour.

[384]

Thou knewe wel deceit of hir colour,

And that hir moste worshipe is to lye.

I knowe hir eek a fals dissimulour:

For fynally, Fortune, I thee defye!

II. La respounse de Fortune au Pleintif.

No man is wrecched, but him-self hit wene,

And he that hath him-self hath suffisaunce.

Why seystow thanne I am to thee so kene,

That hast thy-self out of my governaunce?

Sey thus: 'Graunt mercy of thyn haboundaunce

That thou hast lent or this.' Why wolt thou stryve?

What wostow yit, how I thee wol avaunce?

And eek thou hast thy beste frend alyve!

I have thee taught divisioun bi-twene

Frend of effect, and frend of countenaunce;

Thee nedeth nat the galle of noon hyene,

That cureth eyen derke fro hir penaunce;

Now seestow cleer, that were in ignoraunce.

Yit halt thyn ancre, and yit thou mayst arryve

Ther bountee berth the keye of my substaunce:

And eek thou hast thy beste frend alyve.

How many have I refused to sustene,

Sin I thee fostred have in thy plesaunce!

Woltow than make a statut on thy quene

That I shal been ay at thyn ordinaunce?

Thou born art in my regne of variaunce,

Aboute the wheel with other most thou dryve.

My lore is bet than wikke is thy grevaunce,

And eek thou hast thy beste frend alyve.

[385]

III. La respounse du Pleintif countre Fortune.

Thy lore I dampne, hit is adversitee.

My frend maystow nat reven, blind goddesse!

That I thy frendes knowe, I thanke hit thee.

Tak hem agayn, lat hem go lye on presse!

The negardye in keping hir richesse

Prenostik is thou wolt hir tour assayle;

Wikke appetyt comth ay before seknesse:

In general, this reule may nat fayle.

La respounse de Fortune countre le Pleintif.

Thou pinchest at my mutabilitee,

For I thee lente a drope of my richesse,

And now me lyketh to with-drawe me.

Why sholdestow my realtee oppresse?

The see may ebbe and flowen more or lesse;

The welkne hath might to shyne, reyne, or hayle;

Right so mot I kythen my brotelnesse.

In general, this reule may nat fayle.

Lo, thexecucion of the magestee

That al purveyeth of his rightwisnesse,

That same thing 'Fortune' clepen ye,

Ye blinde bestes, ful of lewednesse!

The hevene hath propretee of sikernesse,

This world hath ever resteles travayle;

Thy laste day is ende of myn intresse:

In general, this reule may nat fayle.

[386]

Lenvoy de Fortune.

Princes, I prey you of your gentilesse,

Lat nat this man on me thus crye and pleyne,

And I shal quyte you your bisinesse

At my requeste, as three of you or tweyne;

And, but you list releve him of his peyne,

Preyeth his beste frend, of his noblesse,

That to som beter estat he may atteyne.

Explicit.

The spelling is conformed to that of the preceding poems; the alterations though numerous are slight; as y for i, au for aw, &c. The text mainly follows MS. I. (= Ii. 3. 21, Camb. Univ. Library). Other MSS. are A. (Ashmole 59); T. (Trin. Coll. Camb.); F. (Fairfax 16); B. (Bodley 638); H. (Harl. 2251).

2: F. pouerte; rest poure (poore, pore, poeere). 8, 16: I. fynaly; deffye. 11: I. mochel; the rest muche, moche. 13: I. fors; thi reddowr. 17: I. stidfast chaumpyoun. 18: I. myht; thi tormentowr. 20: I. fownde thow.

21. I. the deseyte; A. T. H. om. the. 22. I. most. 23. I. knew; rest knowe. I. ek. 24. I. fynaly; the deffye. 27. H. seystow; I. seysthow. I. (only) om. to. 30. So I.; rest Thou shall not stryue. 31. I. woost thow; B. wostow; A. T. wostowe. 36. I. derkyd; rest derke (derk). T. from hir; H. from ther; A. frome theire; F. B. fro; I. for. 37. H. seestow; A. T. seestowe; I. partly erased. 43. I. Wolthow; B. Woltow. 46. I. most thow; H. thow must; the rest maystow, maisthow, maistow.

49: I. dempne; F. B. H. dampne. 50: I. maysthow; B. maistou; H. maystow. 51: I. thanke to; F. thanke yt; B. thanke it; H. thank it nat: (Lansdowne and Pepys also have thank it). 60: I. apresse; rest oppresse. 61: I. A. or; rest and. 62: I. welkne; A. B. H. welkin; F. welkene; T. sky. 63: I. brutelnesse; T. brutilnesse; F. B. H. brotelnesse; A. brittelnesse. After l. 64, a new rubric is wrongly inserted, thus: I. Le pleintif; F. B. H. Le pleintif encontre Fortune; A. The Pleyntyff ageinst Fortune; T. Thaunswer of the Lover ayenst Fortune; see note. 65: A. F. þexecucion; B. thexecucyon; I. excussyoun. I. maieste; rest magestee (mageste). 71: I. intersse (sic); (Lansd. and Pepys intresse); T. F. B. interesse; A. H. encresse.

73. I. gentilesses; the rest gentilesse. 76. In I. only; the rest omit this line. 77. A. F. B. H. And; I. T. That. I. lest; rest list (liste). At end—B. Explicit.

I. Captivity.

Your yën two wol slee me sodenly,

I may the beautè of hem not sustene,

So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene.

And but your word wol helen hastily

My hertes wounde, whyl that hit is grene,

Your yën two wol slee me sodenly,

I may the beautè of hem not sustene.

Upon my trouthe I sey yow feithfully,

That ye ben of my lyf and deeth the quene;

For with my deeth the trouthe shal be sene.

Your yën two wol slee me sodenly,

I may the beautè of hem not sustene,

So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene.

II. Rejection.

So hath your beautè fro your herte chaced

Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne;

For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.

[388]

Giltles my deeth thus han ye me purchaced;

I sey yow sooth, me nedeth not to feyne;

So hath your beautè fro your herte chaced

Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne.

Allas! that nature hath in yow compassed

So greet beautè, that no man may atteyne

To mercy, though he sterve for the peyne.

So hath your beautè fro your herte chaced

Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne;

For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.

III. Escape.

Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat,

I never thenk to ben in his prison lene;

Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.

He may answere, and seye this or that;

I do no fors, I speke right as I mene.

Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat,

I never thenk to ben in his prison lene.

Love hath my name y-strike out of his sclat,

And he is strike out of my bokes clene

For ever-mo; [ther] is non other mene.

Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat,

I never thenk to ben in his prison lene;

Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.

Explicit.

This excellent text is from P. (MS. Pepys 2006, p. 390). I note all variations from the MS.]

1. P. Yowre two yen; but read Your yen two; for in ll., 6, II, the MS. has Your yen, &c. P. wolle sle. 2. them; read hem. 3. wondeth it thorowout (out in the margin). 4. wille. 5. Mi hertis wound while; it. 6, 7. Your yen, &c. 8. trouth. 9. liffe; deth. 10. deth; trouth. 11-13. Your yen, &c. 14. yowre. 15. nauailleth; pleyn. 16. danger.

17. deth. 18. soth; fayn. 19, 20. So hath your, &c. 21. compased. 22. grete; atteyn. 23. peyn. 24-26. So hath your beaute, &c. 28. neuere. 29. fre. 30. answere & sey. 32, 33. Syn I fro loue, &c. 34. I strike. 36. this is (read ther is). 37-39. Syn I fro loue, &c.

Madame, ye ben of al beautè shryne

As fer as cercled is the mappemounde;

For as the cristal glorious ye shyne,

And lyke ruby ben your chekes rounde.

Therwith ye ben so mery and so iocounde,

That at a revel whan that I see you daunce,

It is an oynement unto my wounde,

Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.

For thogh I wepe of teres ful a tyne,

Yet may that wo myn herte nat confounde;

Your seemly voys that ye so smal out-twyne

Maketh my thoght in Ioye and blis habounde.

So curteisly I go, with lovë bounde,

That to my-self I sey, in my penaunce,

Suffyseth me to love you, Rosemounde,

Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.

Nas never pyk walwed in galauntyne

As I in love am walwed and y-wounde;

For which ful ofte I of my-self divyne

That I am trewe Tristan the secounde.

My love may not refreyd be nor afounde;

I brenne ay in an amorous plesaunce.

Do what you list, I wil your thral be founde,

Thoghe ye to me ne do no daliaunce.

Tregentil.Chaucer.

No title in the MS. Readings. 2. mapamonde. 3. cristall. 4. chekys. 5. ioconde. 6. Reuell; se; dance. 8. Thoght (see 16); daliance. 11. semy (sic); read seemly; fynall, for final(misreading of fmal). 12. Makyth; ioy; blys. 13. curtaysly. 18. I wounde. 19. deuyne. 20. trew. 21. refreyde (with be above the line, just before it); affounde. 22. amorouse. 23. lyst; wyl. 24. daliance.

Balade de bon conseyl.

Flee fro the prees, and dwelle with sothfastnesse,

Suffyce unto thy good, though hit be smal;

For hord hath hate, and climbing tikelnesse,

Prees hath envye, and wele blent overal;

Savour no more than thee bihove shal;

Werk wel thy-self, that other folk canst rede;

And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.

Tempest thee noght al croked to redresse,

In trust of hir that turneth as a bal:

Gret reste stant in litel besinesse;

And eek be war to sporne ageyn an al;

Stryve noght, as doth the crokke with the wal.

Daunte thy-self, that dauntest otheres dede;

And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.

That thee is sent, receyve in buxumnesse,

The wrastling for this worlde axeth a fal.

Her nis non hoom, her nis but wildernesse:

Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beste, out of thy stal!

[391]

Know thy contree, look up, thank God of al;

Hold the hye wey, and lat thy gost thee lede:

And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.

Envoy.

Therfore, thou vache, leve thyn old wrecchednesse

Unto the worlde; leve now to be thral;

Crye him mercy, that of his hy goodnesse

Made thee of noght, and in especial

Draw unto him, and pray in general

For thee, and eek for other, hevenlich mede;

And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.

Explicit Le bon counseill de G. Chaucer.

The MSS. are At. (Addit. 10340, Brit. Museum); Gg. (Camb. Univ. Library, Gg. 4. 27); E. (Ellesmere MS.); Ct. (Cotton, Cleop. D. 7); T. (Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 3. 20); F. (Fairfax 16); and others. The text is founded on E.

2. E. Suffise. E. good; T. goode; At. Ct. thing; Gg. þyng. 4. At. blent; T. blenteþe; Gg. blyndyþ; E. blyndeth; Ct. blindeth; see note. 5. E. the. 7. T. inserts thee before shal. 8. Tempest] Harl. F. T. Peyne. 9. E. trist; the rest trust. 10. Gg. Gret reste; T. Gret rest; E. For gret reste; Ct. For greet rest; At. Mych wele. E. bisynesse; rest besynesse. 11. E. ek; agayn. 13. E. Ct. Daunt; the rest Daunte. 14. T. inserts thee before shal. 15. E. the; boxomnesse.

19. Know thy contree] Harl. F. T. Loke vp on hie. E. lok; the rest loke, looke. 20. For Hold the hye wey, Harl. F. and others have Weyve thy lust. E. the (for thee). 21. T. inserts thee before shal. 22-28. This stanza is in At. only. 22. At. þine olde wrechedenesse. 23. At. world. 24. At. Crie hym; hys hie. 25. At. þe; nouȝt. 26. At. Drawe; hym. 27. At. þe; eke; heuenelyche. 28. At. schal delyuere. Colophon: so in F.

Moral Balade of Chaucer.

The firste stok, fader of gentilesse—

What man that claymeth gentil for to be,

Must folowe his trace, and alle his wittes dresse

Vertu to sewe, and vyces for to flee.

For unto vertu longeth dignitee,

And noght the revers, saufly dar I deme,

Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.

This firste stok was ful of rightwisnesse,

Trewe of his word, sobre, pitous, and free,

Clene of his goste, and loved besinesse,

Ageinst the vyce of slouthe, in honestee;

And, but his heir love vertu, as dide he,

He is noght gentil, thogh he riche seme,

Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.

Vyce may wel be heir to old richesse;

But ther may no man, as men may wel see,

Bequethe his heir his vertuous noblesse;

[393]

That is appropred unto no degree,

But to the firste fader in magestee,

That maketh him his heir, that can him queme,

Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.

1. Cx. first; Harl. ffirste; Ct. firste. T. gentilesse; rest gentilnesse. 3. Cx. om. alle. 4. A. T. suwe; Harl. shew (for sewe); Cx. folowe (!). 5. Cx. vertue; dignyte. 6. Cx. not; rest nouȝt, nought, noȝte. 7. Cx. mytor; A. T. Harl. Add. mytre. Cx. crowne; dyademe. 8. Cx. rightwisnes. 9. A. Ct. Ha. pitous; Cx. pyetous. 10. Cx. besynes. 11. A. Ageinst; T. Ageynst; Cx. Agayn. Cx. om. the. Cx. honeste. 12. Cx. eyer; rest heire, heyre, eyre. 13. Cx. not; Ct. Ha. nought. Cx. though; Add. thogh. 14. Cx. mytor; crowne. 15. Cx. omits heir. Cx. holde; rest olde; but read old. 16. Cx. al; rest as. 17. Cx. eyer.

18. Cx. degre. 19. Cx. first; mageste. 20. Ct. That maketh his heires hem that hym queme (omitting can); A. That maþe his heyre him that wol him qweme; T. That makeþe heos heyres hem þat wol him qweeme; Add. That maketh his eires hem that can him queme; Cx. That makes hem eyres that can hem queme; with other variations. I follow Cx., supplying his, and putting him and heir in the singular; cf. he in l. 21. 21. Cx. crowne mytor.

Balade.

Som tyme this world was so stedfast and stable

That mannes word was obligacioun,

And now hit is so fals and deceivable,

That word and deed, as in conclusioun,

Ben no-thing lyk, for turned up so doun

Is al this world for mede and wilfulnesse,

That al is lost for lak of stedfastnesse.

What maketh this world to be so variable

But lust that folk have in dissensioun?

Among us now a man is holde unable,

But-if he can, by som collusioun,

Don his neighbour wrong or oppressioun.

What causeth this, but wilful wrecchednesse,

That al is lost, for lak of stedfastnesse?

Trouthe is put doun, resoun is holden fable;

Vertu hath now no dominacioun,

Pitee exyled, no man is merciable.

Through covetyse is blent discrecioun;

The world hath mad a permutacioun

[395]

Fro right to wrong, fro trouthe to fikelnesse,

That al is lost, for lak of stedfastnesse.

Lenvoy to King Richard.

O prince, desyre to be honourable,

Cherish thy folk and hate extorcioun!

Suffre no thing, that may be reprevable

To thyn estat, don in thy regioun.

Shew forth thy swerd of castigacioun,

Dred God, do law, love trouthe and worthinesse,

And wed thy folk agein to stedfastnesse.

Explicit.

The MSS are: Harl. (Harl. 7333); T. (Trin. Coll. R. 3. 20); Ct. (Cotton, Cleop. D. 7); F. (Fairfax 16); Add. (Addit. 22139); Bann. (Bannatyne); and others. Th. = Thynne (1532). I follow Ct. chiefly. The title Balade is in F.

1. Ct. Sumtyme. Ct. F. the; Harl. T. Add. this. Ct. worlde. 2. Ct. worde. 3. Ct. nowe it; false; deseiuable. 4. Ct. worde; dede. 5. Harl. T. Beon; Add. Ar; Ct. Is; F. Ys. Ct. lyke. 6. Ct. all; worlde. 8. Ct. worlde; veriable. 9. Ct. folke; discension. 10. The MSS. have For among vs now, or For nowe a dayes; but Bann. omits For, which is not wanted. 11. Bann. Harl. T. Th. collusion; Ct. F. Add. conclusioun (but see l. 4). 12. Ct. Do; neyghburgh. 15. Ct. putte. 17. Ct. Pite. 18. Ct. Thorugh. 19. Ct. worlde. T. F. Add. Th. a; Bann. ane; Ct. om.

20. Ct. trought; F. trouthe. Title. T. Lenvoye to Kyng Richard; F. Harl. Th. Lenvoy. 22. Ct. honurable. 23. Ct. Cherice thi. 25. Ct. thine estaat doen; thi. 26. Ct. Shewe; swerde. 27. Ct. Drede; truthe. 28. Ct. thi; ayen. Ct. Th. add Explicit.

To-broken been the statuts hye in hevene

That creat were eternally to dure,

Sith that I see the brighte goddes sevene

Mow wepe and wayle, and passioun endure,

As may in erthe a mortal creature.

Allas, fro whennes may this thing procede?

Of whiche errour I deye almost for drede.

By worde eterne whylom was hit shape

That fro the fifte cercle, in no manere,

Ne mighte a drope of teres doun escape.

But now so wepeth Venus in hir spere,

That with hir teres she wol drenche us here.

Allas, Scogan! this is for thyn offence!

Thou causest this deluge of pestilence.

Hast thou not seyd, in blaspheme of this goddes,

Through pryde, or through thy grete rakelnesse,

Swich thing as in the lawe of love forbode is?

That, for thy lady saw nat thy distresse,

Therfor thou yave hir up at Michelmesse!

Allas, Scogan! of olde folk ne yonge

Was never erst Scogan blamed for his tonge!

[397]

Thou drowe in scorn Cupyde eek to record

Of thilke rebel word that thou hast spoken,

For which he wol no lenger be thy lord.

And, Scogan, thogh his bowe be nat broken,

He wol nat with his arwes been y-wroken

On thee, ne me, ne noon of our figure;

We shul of him have neyther hurt ne cure.

Now certes, frend, I drede of thyn unhappe,

Lest for thy gilt the wreche of Love procede

On alle hem that ben hore and rounde of shape,

That ben so lykly folk in love to spede.

Than shul we for our labour han no mede;

But wel I wot, thou wilt answere and seye:

'Lo! olde Grisel list to ryme and pleye!'

Nay, Scogan, sey not so, for I mexcuse,

God help me so! in no rym, doutelees,

Ne thinke I never of slepe wak my muse,

That rusteth in my shethe stille in pees.

Whyl I was yong, I putte hir forth in prees,

But al shal passe that men prose or ryme;

Take every man his turn, as for his tyme.

Envoy.

Scogan, that knelest at the stremes heed

Of grace, of alle honour and worthinesse,

In thende of which streme I am dul as deed,

Forgete in solitarie wildernesse;

Yet, Scogan, thenke on Tullius kindenesse,

Minne thy frend, ther it may fructifye!

Far-wel, and lok thou never est Love defye!

Title: so in F. and P.; Gg. has—Litera directa de Scogon per G. C. The MSS. are: Gg. (Camb. Univ. Library, Gg. 4. 27); F. (Fairfax 16); P. (Pepys 2006). Th. = Thynne (1532). I follow F. mainly.

1. F. statutez. 2. F. weren eternaly. 3. F. bryght goddis. 4. F. Mowe. 5. F. Mortale. 6. F. thys thinge. 8. F. whilome. F. yshape; Gg. it schape; P. Th. it shape. 9. F. fyfte sercle; maner. 10. F. myght; teeres; eschape. 11. F. wepith. 12. F. teeres. 14. F. cawsest; diluge. 15. Gg. Hast þu; F. Hauesthow. F. this goddis; Gg. the goddis; P. Th. the goddes. 16. F. Thurgh; thrugh. F. they (wrongly); Gg. þyn; P. thi. F. rekelnesse; P. Th. reklesnesse; Gg. rechelesnesse; see note. 17. F. P. forbede; Gg. forbodyn; Th. forbode. 18. Gg. saw; F. sawgh. 19. F. Therfore thow. Gg. Mychel-; F. Mighel-. 20. F. folke.

22. F. skorne; eke; recorde. 23. F. worde; thow. 24. F. lorde. 25. F. thow; P. Th. though. F. thy (for his, wrongly); Gg. P. his. 27. F. the. Th. our; Gg. oure; P. owre; F. youre. 28. F. hurte. Gg. P. Th. ne; F. nor. 29. F. dreed. 30. F. gilte. 31. Gg. P. hore; F. hoor. F. shappe; P. shape; Gg. schap. 32. F. folke. 33. P. shull; F. Gg. shal. Gg. P. han; F. haue. F. noo. 34. F. thow. F. wolt; Gg. wilt. 35. Gg. P. Lo olde; F. Loo tholde. F. lyste. 36. F. say; Gg. P. sey. F. soo. 37. P. help; Gg. F. helpe. F. soo. F. ryme dowteles. 38. F. Gg. to wake; P. Th. om. to. 40. F. While; yonge. Gg. putte; F. put. P. Th. her; F. hyt; Gg. it. 41. F. alle. 42. F. hys turne. 43. F. hede; Gg. hed. 45. F. dede; Gg. P. ded. 48. F. Mynne; there. 49. F. Fare; loke thow; dyffye.

N.B. All have—.i. a Windesore, and—.i. a Grenewich opposite ll. 43, 45.

The counseil of Chaucer touching Mariage, which

was sent to Bukton.

My maister Bukton, whan of Criste our kinge

Was axed, what is trouthe or sothfastnesse,

He nat a word answerde to that axinge,

As who saith: 'no man is al trewe,' I gesse.

And therfor, thogh I highte to expresse

The sorwe and wo that is in mariage,

I dar not wryte of hit no wikkednesse,

Lest I my-self falle eft in swich dotage.

I wol nat seyn, how that hit is the cheyne

Of Sathanas, on which he gnaweth ever,

But I dar seyn, were he out of his peyne,

As by his wille, he wolde be bounde never.

But thilke doted fool that est hath lever

Y-cheyned be than out of prisoun crepe,

God lete him never fro his wo dissever,

Ne no man him bewayle, though he wepe.

But yit, lest thou do worse, tak a wyf;

Bet is to wedde, than brenne in worse wyse.

But thou shalt have sorwe on thy flesh, thy lyf,

And been thy wyves thral, as seyn these wyse,

[399]

And if that holy writ may nat suffyse,

Experience shal thee teche, so may happe,

That thee were lever to be take in Fryse

Than eft to falle of wedding in the trappe.

Envoy.

This litel writ, proverbes, or figure

I sende you, tak kepe of hit, I rede:

Unwys is he that can no wele endure.

If thou be siker, put thee nat in drede.

The Wyf of Bathe I pray you that ye rede

Of this matere that we have on honde.

God graunte you your lyf frely to lede

In fredom; for ful hard is to be bonde.

Explicit.

The authorities are: F. (Fairfax 16); Th. (Thynne's edition, 1532); and a printed copy by Julian Notary (Ju.). I follow F. mainly.

2. F. ys; sothefastnesse. 3. F. worde. 4. F. noo. Ju. Th. trewe; F. trew. 5. F. therfore though; hight (Ju. hyghte). 6. F. woo. 7. F. writen; hyt noo. 8. Ju. Lest; F. Leste. 9. F. hyt. 10. F. euere. 11. F. oute. 12. F. neuere. 13. F. foole. Th. efte; F. ofte; Ju. oft. F. leuere. 15. F. woo disseuere. 16. F. noo. 17. F. yet; thow doo; take; wyfe. 19. F. thow; flessh; lyfe. 20. F. ben. F. wifes; Ju. Th. wynes.

21. F. yf; hooly writte. 22. F. the. 23. F. the. 24. F. Ju. om. to; which Th. inserts. 25. F. writte; Th. writ; Ju. wryt. 26. F. yow take; hyt. 27. F. Vnwise; kan noo. 28. F. thow; the. 29. F. wyfe; yow. 31. F. yow; lyfe. 32. F. fredam. F. harde it is; Ju. hard is; Th. foule is (omitting ful). All add Explicit.

Title: so in F. Ff. Ar.; see Notes. The MSS. are: T. (Trin. Coll. Cambridge, R. 3. 20); A. (Ashmole 59); Tn. (MS. Tanner 346); F. (Fairfax 16); Ff. (MS. Ff. I. 6. Camb. Univ. Library); Ar. (Arch. Seld. P. 24); P. (Pepys 2006); etc. Th.=Thynne (1532). I follow F. mainly.

1. F. high; T. A. hye (hy is better). 2. F. When; eny. 4. F. manhod; the rest have final e. 5. F. stidfastnesse. 6. F. whiles; A. whilest; rest while. 7. F. oght; Tn. oghte to. 9. F. ys bounte. F. T. A. Th. insert and after wisdom; but the rest omit it. 10. F. eny manes witte. 11. F. wolde (wrongly); Ff. wold. F. fersorthe. 12. F. parfite.

14. F. well. 16. F. preysith. 18. F. hert; grete. 19. F. werk. 21. F. sikirnesse. 22. F. oght. 25. F. certis. 26. T. A. Tn. Th. thy; F. Ff. the. 27. F. a-bed; T. A. a-bedde. 28. F. Wepinge; laugh; sing; compleynynge.

29. F. cast; the rest caste. F. lokynge. 30. F. chaunge visage (wrongly); change hewe in MS. Arch. Selden, B. 24; T. A. chaunge huwe. 31. MSS. Pley, Pleye; read Pleyne (F. Plaindre). F. dreme; T. Tn. Ff. Th. dremen. 32. F. reuerse; eny. 33. Ff. T. Ialousye; F. Ielosie. Ff. P. be; F. Th. he (!). Ialousye be] T. þaughe Ialousye wer. T. Tn. Th. by; F. be; Ff. with. 34. F. wold; thro; espyinge. 35. F. dothe. 36. F. nys harme; ymagenynge. 37. F. yevynge. 38. F. yifeth. Ff. withouten; rest withoute. 40. F. reuerse; felynge. 42. T. Ff. encomberous; F. encombrouse. F. vsynge. 43. Tn. sotell; F. subtil. F. Ielosie. 44. T. destourbing; F. derturbynge (sic).

45. F. suffrynge; P. sufferyng; T. souffering. 46. F. Ff. noun-certeyn; T. noun-certaine; A. nouncerteine. F. langvisshen. 47. F. harde. F. wrongly repeats penaunce; T. A. meschaunce. 48. F. reuerse; ony; felynge. 49. F. certys; not. 50. F. youre; ment. 51. F. be; the rest ben or been. 52. F. wil; T. A. Ff. wol. F. assent. 53. F. fors; turment. 55. F. certys. 56. F. om. ne, which T. A. P. insert; Ar. has that. Tn. inserts me before never. 57. F. certis; when. 58. F. eny estate; represent. 59. F. Tn. Then; rest Than, Thanne, Thane. T. Ff. P. maked; rest made. F. thro. 60. F. went.

61. F. hert; loke; stent. 62. P. Ielous; A. Ialous; T. Ialouse; F. Ielousie. A. putte; F. put. 63. F. peyn wille I not. 64. F. yow (for him); T. A. Tn. Ar. him (see l. 56). 65. F. Hert; the; ought ynogh. 66. F. highe; T. A. hye. T. A. Ff. Ar. thee; F. yow; Tn. you. F. sent. 67. F. al. 68. F. entent. 69. F. went. 70. F. Sithe. F. Tn. ye (for I); rest I. 71. All but Ju. (Julian Notary's edition) repeat this before lay. 72. See l. 56. 73. T. A. Pryncesse; rest Princes. F. resseyueth. 74. F. excelent benignite. 75. F. Directe aftir. 76. F. elde. 77. Tn. soteltee; F. subtilite. 78. F. nighe. 79. F. eke; grete. 80. F. ryme; englissh hat (sic) such skarsete. 81. F. worde by worde; curiosite. 82. F. floure; maken.

To you, my purse, and to non other wight

Compleyne I, for ye be my lady dere!

I am so sory, now that ye be light;

For certes, but ye make me hevy chere,

Me were as leef be leyd up-on my bere;

For whiche un-to your mercy thus I crye:

Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye!

Now voucheth sauf this day, or hit be night,

That I of you the blisful soun may here,

Or see your colour lyk the sonne bright,

That of yelownesse hadde never pere.

Ye be my lyf, ye be myn hertes stere,

Quene of comfort and of good companye:

Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye!

Now purs, that be to me my lyves light,

And saveour, as doun in this worlde here,

Out of this toune help me through your might,

Sin that ye wole nat been my tresorere;

For I am shave as nye as any frere.

[406]

But yit I pray un-to your curtesye:

Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye!

Lenvoy de Chaucer.

O conquerour of Brutes Albioun!

Which that by lyne and free eleccioun

Ben verray king, this song to you I sende;

And ye, that mowen al our harm amende,

Have minde up-on my supplicacioun!

The MSS. are: F. (Fairfax 16); Harl (Harl. 7333); Ff. (Camb. Univ. Library, Ff. I.6): P. (Pepys 2006); Add. (Addit. 22139); also Cx. (Caxton's edition); Th. (Thynne, 1532). I follow F. mainly.

Title. So in Cx. (but with Un-to for to); F. om. empty; P. La compleint de Chaucer a sa Bourse Voide.

1. F. yow. 2. F. Complayn; Harl. P. Compleyne. 3. Harl. be; F. been. 4. Add. That; P. But; rest For. P. Add. but ye; F. Harl. but yf ye; Ff. but yif ye; Cx. Th. ye now. 5. Add. leyd; F. layde. 7. F. Beeth; ageyne; mote. 8. F. hyt; nyght. 9. F. yow; sovne. 10. F. lyke; bryght. 11. Read That of yél-ownés-se. 12. F. lyfe; hertys. 14. F. ageyne; moote. 15. P. Cx. purs; F. Add. purse. F. ben. 17. F. Oute; helpe; thurgh. 18. F. bene. 19. Harl. P. Th. any; Add. eny; Cx. ony; F. is a.

21. F. Bethe; ayen; moote. F. Lenvoy de Chaucer; Harl. P. Lenvoye; Cx. Thenuoye of Chaucer vnto the kynge. 23. F. Whiche. F. lygne; Harl. Cx. Ff. P. lyne. 24. F. Been; kynge; yow. 25. F. alle myn harme; Ff. alle oure harmes; Harl. all oure harmous; P. Cx. alle harmes.

Proverbe of Chaucer.

What shul thise clothes many-fold,

Lo! this hote somers day?—

After greet heet cometh cold;

No man caste his pilche away.

II.

Of al this world the wyde compas

Hit wol not in myn armes tweyne.—

Who-so mochel wol embrace

Litel therof he shal distreyne.

The MSS. are: F. (Fairfax 16); Ha. (Harl. 7578); Ad. (Addit. 16165). I follow F. mainly. Title; in F. Ha.; Ad. Prouerbe.

1. Ad. þees; F. Ha. these. All needlessly insert thus after clothes. F. many-folde. 2. F. Loo; hoote. 3. F. grete hete; Ha. greet hete; Ad. heet. F. colde. 4. Ha. pilche; F. pilch. 5. F. all; worlde. Ad. wyde; F. Ha. large. Ad. Ha. compas; F. compace. 6. Ad. Hit; F. Yt. Ad. wol; F. Ha. wil. Ad. myn; F. Ha. my. 7. F. Whoo-so.

[The following Poems are also probably genuine; but are placed here for lack of external evidence.]

Balade.

Madame, for your newe-fangelnesse,

Many a servaunt have ye put out of grace,

I take my leve of your unstedfastnesse,

For wel I wot, whyl ye have lyves space,

Ye can not love ful half yeer in a place;

To newe thing your lust is ever kene;

In stede of blew, thus may ye were al grene.

Right as a mirour nothing may enpresse,

But, lightly as it cometh, so mot it pace,

So fareth your love, your werkes bereth witnesse.

Ther is no feith that may your herte enbrace;

But, as a wedercok, that turneth his face

With every wind, ye fare, and that is sene;

In stede of blew, thus may ye were al grene.

[410]

Ye might be shryned, for your brotelnesse,

Bet than Dalyda, Creseide or Candace;

For ever in chaunging stant your sikernesse,

That tache may no wight fro your herte arace;

If ye lese oon, ye can wel tweyn purchace;

Al light for somer, ye woot wel what I mene,

In stede of blew, thus may ye were al grene.

Explicit.

Title. None in Ct.; Balade in F.; ed. 1561 has—A Balade which Chaucer made agaynst woman unconstaunt.

The text is from Ct. (Cotton, Cleopatra D. 7); that in ed. 1561 is much the same, except in spelling. Another copy in F. (Fairfax 16). A third in Ha. (Harl. 7578); of less value.

2. Ct. Manie; F. many. Ct. F. of youre; Ha. om. youre. 4. Ct. wote while. F. have lyves; Ct. to lyve haue. 5. Ct. kunnought; F. Ha. kan not. 6. F. thing; Ct. Ha. thinges. Ct. inserts so before kene; ed. (1561) omits so; F. has ay so. 7. Ct. sted; F. stede. Ct. Blue; F. blew. 8. Ct. Mirrour; ed. mirour. Ct. Ha. ed. ins. that bef. nothing; F. om. 11. Ct. F. hert; Ha. ed. herte. 12. Ha. om. a. Ha. wethirkoc. 14. Ct. om. al; F. Ha. ed. retain it.

15. Ct. om. your; F. Ha. ed. retain it. 16. Ct. Bettir; F. Ha. ed. Better; read Bet. F. Dalyda; Ct. Dalide. Ct. Cresside; F. Creseyde. 17. Ct. Changeng; F. chaungyng. All stondeth; read stant. 18. F. tache; Ct. tacche: ed. tatche. F. Ha. herte; Ct. ed. hert. 19. Ct. Ha. lese; F. ed. lose. Ct. kunne; F. kan; ed. can; Ha. kanne. Ct. ed. tweine; F. tweyn. 20. Ct. All; ed. Al. Ct. F. wote; Ha. woote; ed. wot; cf. Cant. Ta. A 740, 829. 21. Ct. om. al; F. ed. retain it. Ct. adds Explicit.

An amorous Compleint, made at Windsor.

I, which that am the sorwefulleste man

That in this world was ever yit livinge,

And leest recoverer of him-selven can,

Beginne thus my deadly compleininge

On hir, that may to lyf and deeth me bringe,

Which hath on me no mercy ne no rewthe

That love hir best, but sleeth me for my trewthe.

Can I noght doon ne seye that may yow lyke,

[For] certes, now, allas! allas! the whyle!

Your plesaunce is to laughen whan I syke,

And thus ye me from al my blisse exyle.

Ye han me cast in thilke spitous yle

Ther never man on lyve mighte asterte;

This have I for I lovë you, swete herte!

[412]

Sooth is, that wel I woot, by lyklinesse,

If that it were thing possible to do

Tacompte youre beutee and goodnesse,

I have no wonder thogh ye do me wo;

Sith I, thunworthiest that may ryde or go,

Durste ever thinken in so hy a place,

What wonder is, thogh ye do me no grace?

Allas! thus is my lyf brought to an ende,

My deeth, I see, is my conclusioun;

I may wel singe, 'in sory tyme I spende

My lyf;' that song may have confusioun!

For mercy, pitee, and deep affeccioun,

I sey for me, for al my deedly chere,

Alle thise diden, in that, me love yow dere.

And in this wyse and in dispayre I live

In lovë; nay, but in dispayre I dye!

But shal I thus [to] yow my deeth for-give,

That causeles doth me this sorow drye?

Ye, certes, I! For she of my folye

Hath nought to done, although she do me sterve;

Hit is nat with hir wil that I hir serve!

Than sith I am of my sorowe the cause

And sith that I have this, withoute hir reed,

Than may I seyn, right shortly in a clause,

It is no blame unto hir womanheed

Though swich a wrecche as I be for hir deed;

[413]

[And] yet alwey two thinges doon me dyë,

That is to seyn, hir beutee and myn yë.

So that, algates, she is the verray rote

Of my disese, and of my dethe also;

For with oon word she mighte be my bote,

If that she vouched sauf for to do so.

But [why] than is hir gladnesse at my wo?

It is hir wone plesaunce for to take,

To seen hir servaunts dyen for hir sake!

But certes, than is al my wonderinge,

Sithen she is the fayrest creature

As to my dome, that ever was livinge,

The benignest and beste eek that nature

Hath wrought or shal, whyl that the world may dure,

Why that she lefte pite so behinde?

It was, y-wis, a greet defaute in kinde.

Yit is al this no lak to hir, pardee,

But god or nature sore wolde I blame;

For, though she shewe no pite unto me,

Sithen that she doth othere men the same,

I ne oughte to despyse my ladies game;

It is hir pley to laughen whan men syketh,

And I assente, al that hir list and lyketh!

Yit wolde I, as I dar, with sorweful herte

Biseche un-to your meke womanhede

That I now dorste my sharpe sorwes smerte

Shewe by worde, that ye wolde ones rede

[414]

The pleynte of me, the which ful sore drede

That I have seid here, through myn unconninge,

In any worde to your displesinge.

Lothest of anything that ever was loth

Were me, as wisly god my soule save!

To seyn a thing through which ye might be wroth;

And, to that day that I be leyd in grave,

A trewer servaunt shulle ye never have;

And, though that I on yow have pleyned here,

Forgiveth it me, myn owne lady dere!

Ever have I been, and shal, how-so I wende,

Outher to live or dye, your humble trewe;

Ye been to me my ginning and myn ende,

Sonne of the sterre bright and clere of hewe,

Alwey in oon to love yow freshly newe,

By god and by my trouthe, is myn entente;

To live or dye, I wol it never repente!

This compleynt on seint Valentynes day,

Whan every foul [ther] chesen shal his make,

To hir, whos I am hool, and shal alwey,

This woful song and this compleynt I make,

That never yit wolde me to mercy take;

And yit wol I [for] evermore her serve

And love hir best, although she do me sterve.

Explicit.

In MS. Harl. 7333, fol. 133 b and 134. Title—And next folowyng begynnith an amerowse compleynte made at wyndesore in the laste May tofore Novembre (sic). Also in F. (Fairfax) and B. (Bodley 638); entitled Complaynt Damours. N. B. Unmarked readings are from Harl.

1. sorowfullest. 2. worlde; leving (F. lyvinge). 3. F. lest; Harl. B. leste. B. rekeuerer. 4. Begynne right thus; so F. B.; I omit right. 5. lyff; dethe. 6. Whiche hathe; rought (for rewthe). 7. beste; sleethe. 8. F. Kan I noght doon to seyn; B. Kan I nought don to seyn; Harl. Cane I nought ne saye. 9. All Ne; read For. 10. Youre. 11. frome. 12. Yee. F. B. han; Harl. haue. caste. F. B. thilke; Harl. that. All spitouse. 13. Harl. ne (after lyve); F. B. om. 14. beste (after you); F. B. om.

15. Soothe; weele. 16. F. B. that; Harl. om. F. B. a thing; Harl. om. a. thinge; doo. 17. F. B. Tacompte youre; Harl. For to acounte your. 18. noo wondre; yee; woo. 19. Sithe; goo. 20. F. neuer; B. euyr; Harl. euer. hie. 21. wondir; doo; noo. 22. Ellas; Eonde. F. myshefe; B. myschef (for my lyf). 23. dethe; conclucioun. 24. wele. F. sing; B. singe; Harl. say. Harl. sorye. 25. B. ys my (for may have). Confucioun. 26. B. my saluacioun (for deep affeccioun). 27, 28. B. I sey for me I haue noun [neuer?] felte Alle thes diden me in despeire to melte. 27. fo (? for for). 28. Alle this; yowe deere. 29. Harl. om. 2nd in. 30. F. B. nay; Harl. nay nay. 31. I supply to; yowe; dethe for-geve. 32. dothe. 33. certe (!); sheo. 34. Hathe; Al-thoughe sheo. 35. nought (for nat). 36. Thane sithe. 37. sitthe; rede. 38. seyne. 39. noo; womanhede. 40. Thaugh suche; dede.

41. Yette; I supply And; twoo; doone. 42. seyne; beaute; eye. 43. Harl. om. that. F. B. om. the. verraye Roote. 44. diseese; alsoo. 45. worde sheo myght; boote. 46. sheo wovched saufe; soo. 47. I supply why; woo. 48. wonne; all ins. to after wonne. 49. seon; sarvauntes; B. seruaunte. 50. thanne; alle; wondering. 51. sheo. 53. eke. 54. Hathe; shalle; Harl. om. that; worlde. 55. Whi; sheo lefe pitte; byhinde. Harl. so; F. alle; B. all. 56. ewisse; grete. 57. Yitte; noo. F. B. om. al. 58. Harl. ins. hem before soore (sic); F. B. hem (but om. sore). 59. thowe (for though); sheo; pette. 60. sheo doothe. 61. ought. 62. Harl. om. hir; pleye; lawhe when that men sikith. 63. liste; likethe. 64. B. Yit; F. Yet; Harl. Yeo (sic); see 57. dare; sorowfull. 65. F. B. meke; Harl. mekly. 66. F. sorwes; B. sorwys; Harl. shoures. 67. Harl. and; F. B. that, yee; onys.

68. compleynte (for pleynte); which I Fulle. 69. saide; thorowe. B. vnkonnynge; F. vnkunnynge; Harl. vnknowynge. F. B. om. here and myn. 70. yowre. 71. Loothest; loothe. 72. als; sowle safe. 73. seyne; thorughe; yee; wrothe. 74. leyde. 75. sarvaunt ne shulde yee. F. shul; B. shall; Harl. shulde. 76. thaughe. F. B. on yow haue pleyned; Harl. haue playned vnto yow. 77. For-gyvethe yt me, myne oune lady so dere. 78. howe. 79. youre. 80. Yee ben; gynnynge. 81. Harl. of; F. ouer; B. ovyr. F. B. om. and clere. Sterre so bright; huwe. 82. Harl. And I ay oon; F. B. Alwey in oon. fresshely. 84. wolle. 85. Conpleynte; valantines. 86. foughel cheesen shall; I supply ther from Parl. Foules, 310. 87. was (F. B. whos); hole; shall. 88. wofulle songe; conplaynte. 90. wolle; I supply for. 91. alle-thowhe sheo. F. B. Explicit; Harl. om.

Compleyne ne coude, ne might myn herte never

My peynes halve, ne what torment I have,

Though that I sholde in your presence ben ever,

My hertes lady, as wisly he me save

That bountee made, and beutee list to grave

In your persone, and bad hem bothe in-fere

Ever tawayte, and ay be wher ye were.

As wisly he gye alle my Ioyes here

As I am youres, and to yow sad and trewe,

And ye, my lyf and cause of my good chere,

And deeth also, whan ye my peynes newe,

My worldes Ioye, whom I wol serve and sewe,

My heven hool, and al my suffisaunce,

Whom for to serve is set al my plesaunce.

Beseching yow in my most humble wyse

Taccepte in worth this litel povre dyte,

And for my trouthe my service nat despyse,

Myn observaunce eek have nat in despyte,

Ne yit to long to suffren in this plyte,

I yow beseche, myn hertes lady dere,

Sith I yow serve, and so wil yeer by yere.

1. koude; hert. 2. turment. 3. Thaughe; shoulde; youre. 4. wissely. 5. beaute liste. 6. youre; bade; in-feere. 7. beo. 8. wissely. 9. yowe sadde; truwe. 10. lyff; gode. 11. dethe; whane; reewe, altered by the scribe to newe. 12. whome; suwe. 13. hole; souffisaunce. 14. sette. 15. yowe; moste. 16. Taccept; worthe; pore. 17. not despice. 18. eke; not. 19. longe; suffre. 20. here (error for dere; see XXII. 77). 21. yowe; yere by yere.

The French text, a portion of which is given in the lower part of pp. 93-164, is reprinted from Le Roman de la Rose, ed. Méon, Paris, 1814.

1. Scan:—Many | men seyn | that in | swev'níng-es ||. So, in the next line, read:—lesíng-es. In l. 3, read:—swev'nes. In l. 4, read 'hard-e-ly' as three syllables, and 'fals-e' as two; and, in general, throughout ll. 1-1705, apply the usual rules of Chaucerian pronunciation.

sweveninges, dreamings; see l. 3; cf. A.S. swefen, a dream, pl. swefnu; swefnian, v., to dream. The translation should be compared with the original F. text, as given below it.

On the subject of dreams, cf. Hous of Fame, ll. 1-52, and the notes to ll. 1, 7.

6. 'To warrant this, I may cite an author named Macrobius.' Macrobius, the commentator on Cicero's Somnium Scipionis (as here said); see notes to Parl. of Foules, 31; Book Duch. 284.

8-10. halt, holds, considers; lees, deceptive. 'But explains to us the vision that king Scipio formerly dreamt.'

22. taketh his corage, assumes fresh confidence from the support of the young, is encouraged by the young, receives their tribute. The O.F. paage is the mod. F. péage, toll, lit. 'footing.'

27. Read—'That hit me lyked wonder wel.' wonder wel, wonderfully well. This use of wonder is common; see Cant. Ta., G 751, 1035. At a later time, wonder, when thus used adverbially, received the adverbial suffix -s; hence Th. has 'wonders wel' here. So also 'wonders dere' in the Test. of Love; see Wondrous in my Etym. Dict.

38. hote, be called; a less ambiguous spelling than hatte, as in Thynne; cf. Cant. Ta. D 144. rede you here, advise you to hear.

44. she. These and similar allusions are merely translated, and have therefore no special significance. [418]

61. Forget, i. e. forgetteth; pres. tense. So in Ayenb. of Inwyt, p. 18, l. 9, we find the form uoryet. I supply al.

81. chelaundre, (cf. l. 663), a kind of lark; O. F. calandre, caladre, Lat. caradrius, Gk. χαραδριός. Cf. Land of Cockaigne, l. 97. papingay, parrot; Sir Topas, B 1957.

98. aguiler, needle-case. It occurs nowhere else. The rime drow, y-now occurs in Leg. Good Women, 1458.

118. Seine, the river of Paris. In the next line, wel away straighter means 'a good deal broader' or more expanded (F. text, plus espandue), though less in volume. Wel away, in this sense, occurs in P. Plowman, B. xii. 263, xvii. 42.

129. Beet, beat, struck, i. e. bordered closely; a translation of F. batoit.

147. The descriptions of allegorical personages in this poem are clearly imitated from similar descriptions in Latin poets. Compare the celebrated description of Envy in Ovid, Metam. ii. 775, and the like. MS. G. absurdly reads a hate for Hate.

149. The reading must, of course, be moveresse, as in the Fr. text; Speght corrected it in 1598; it means a mover or stirrer up of strife.

197. maketh; pronounced mak'th. Note, once for all, that 'th for final -eth is extremely common throughout all parts of this poem.

207. Avarice, i. e. Penuriousness, as distinct from Coveitise, i. e. Covetousness of the wealth of others. Compare the description of Avarice in Piers Plowman, B. v. 188.

226. burnet, a cloth of dyed wool, orig. of a dark brown colour. Gowns were nearly always trimmed with fur, but in this case only a common lambskin fur was used, instead of a costly fur such as miniver.

276. Read melt'th. for pure wood, as if entirely mad. The simple phrase for wood, as if mad, occurs in Ho. Fame, 1747; Leg. of Good Women, 2420 (unless For-wood is there a compound adjective).

292. baggingly, askant, sideways; cf. baggeth, looks askant, Book Duch. 623. [419]

311. fade, withered. 'Thi faire hewe is al fade'; Will. of Palerne, 891. Compare the description of Sorrow in Sackville's 'Induction'; see my Specimens of Eng. Literature, iii. 286.

380. F. trois tens, three moments. It is here asserted that no one can think of the present moment; for while he tries to do so, three moments have fled.

387. fret, for freteth, devours. 'Tempus edax rerum'; Ovid, Met. xv. 234. and shal, and will ever do so. thing is pl., as in 206.

396. Bell and Morris here print elde with a capital letter, shewing that they did not make out the sense. But it is here a verb, as in 391, 392. The sense is:—'Time ... had made her grow so extremely old that, as far as I knew, she could in no wise help herself.'

401. inwith, for within, is common in Chaucer; the occurrence of pith, just before, probably caused the scribe to omit with.

415. Pope-holy; properly an adjective, meaning 'holy as a pope,' hence, hypocritical. Here used as a sb., as equivalent to 'hypocrite,' to translate F. Papelardie. Used as an adj. in P. Plowman, C. vii. 37; see my note, which gives references to Dyce's Skelton, i. 209, 216, 240, 386; Barclay, Ship of Fools, ed. Jamieson, i. 154; and Polit. Poems, ed. Wright, ii. 251.

429. 'Devoted to a religious life,' viz. by having joined one of the religious orders. See note to P. Plowman, C. xi. 88.

438. haire, hair-shirt; the F. text has la haire, borrowed from O. H. G. hārrā, with the same sense. The A. S. word is hǣre, a derivative from hǣr, hair. See Haar in Kluge. See Cant. Ta., G 133; P. Plowman, C. vii. 6, and the note.

442. The reading ay possibly stands for aȝ, i. e. agh or ogh. Ogh (A. S. āh) is the (obsolete) pres. t. of ought, which takes its place in mod. E. Cf. ye owen, in Melibeus, B 2691. See ah in Stratmann. 'From her the gate of Paradise ought to be kept.' But it is simpler to read shal (F. text, ert = Lat. erit).

501. It is impossible to make sense without reading nolde for wolde. The Fr. text clearly shews that nolde is meant:—'Que n'en preisse pas ... Que ge n'entrasse.' The scribe stumbled over the double negative.

505. G. has:—'Thassemble, god kepe it fro care Of briddis, whiche therynne ware'; and Th. has the same reading. It cannot be right, [420]because care and were give a false rime. Even the scribe has seen this, and has altered were to ware, to give a rime to the eye. Perhaps such a rime may have passed in Northern English, but certainly not in Midland. I have no hesitation in restoring the reading, which must have been 'God it kepe and were,' or something very near it. It is obvious that were is the original word in this passage, because it is the precise etymological equivalent of garisse in the French text; and it is further obvious that the reason for expelling it from the text, was to avoid the apparent repetition of were in the rime; a repetition which the scribe too hastily assumed to be a defect, though examples of it are familiar to the student of Chaucer; cf. Prol. 17, 18. Chaucer has were, to defend, riming with spere, Cant. Ta. A 2550; and were (were) also riming with spere, Ho. Fame, 1047. He would therefore have had no hesitation in riming these words together; and we cannot doubt that he here did so. Cf. ll. 515, 516 below.

520. The spelling angwishis is a false spelling of anguissous, i. e. full of anguish. For this form, see Pers. Tale, I 304.

562. orfrays, gold embroidered work, cloth-of-gold; cf. ll. 869, 1076. 'The golden bands fastened to, or embroidered on chasubles, copes, and vestments ... Fringes or laces appended to the garments, as well as the embroidered work upon them, were so termed'; Fairholt, Costume in England. See Way's note on Orfrey in the Prompt. Parvulorum. Cotgrave has: 'Orfrais, m. Broad welts, or gards of gold or silver imbroidery laid on Copes, and other Church-vestments'; &c. There is a long note upon it, with quotations, in Thynne's Animadversions on Speght's Chaucer, ed. Furnivall, pp. 33-35; he says it is 'frised or perled cloothe of gold,' or 'a weued clothe of gold.' Here it seems to mean a gold-embroidered band, worn as a chaplet.

568. tressour; so spelt in Gawain and the Grene Knight, 1739, where a lady is described as having precious stones, in clusters of twenty, 'trased aboute hir tressour.' Roquefort also gives the O. F. forms tressour, tressoir, tresson, 'ornement de tête pour les femmes, ruban pour attacher les cheveux.' It differs from the heraldic term tressure (Lat. tricatura) in the form of the suffix. Tressour can rime with mirrour, whilst tressure (strictly) cannot do so. Her hair was entwined with gilt ribbons or threads.

579, 580. Iournee, day's work. wel bigoon, might mean richly adorned; cf. 'With perle and gold so wel begoon'; Gower, C. A. ii. 45. But it is here equivalent to mery; see l. 693.

584. graythe hir, dress or adorn herself. uncouthly, strikingly, in an unusual way.

602. Alexandryn, of Alexandria; for of may well be omitted. It means that many trees have been imported from the east by way of [421]Alexandria. Many MSS. of the Fr. text read 'de la terre Alexandrins.' The damson, for example, came from Damascus.

603. I put be hider for hider be; but be, after all, is better omitted. Made hider fet is a correct idiom; see note to Cant. Ta. E 1098.

610. The images and pictures on the outside of the wall were made repellent, to keep strangers aloof.

658. Alpes, bullfinches; also called an awp, or, corruptly, a nope. 'Alp, or Nope, a bulfinch. I first took notice of this word in Suffolk, but find since that it is used in other counties, almost generally all over England'; Ray's Collection of South and E. Country Words (1691).

wodewales, witwalls. In the Prompt. Parvulorum, the wodewale is identified with the wodehake, woodpecker; whilst Hexham explains Du. Weduwael as 'a kinde of a yellow bird.' There is often great confusion in such names. The true witwall is the Green Woodpecker (Gecinus viridis). We may omit and, and even were in l. 657.

662. laverokkes, larks. The A. S. lāwerce, lāferce, became laverk; then the final k was exchanged for the diminutive suffix -ok.

664. wery, weary (F. lassees); nigh forsongen, nearly tired out with singing.

terins; F. tarin, which, Littré says, is the Fringilla spinus. Cotgrave has: 'Tarin, a little singing bird, having a yellowish body, and an ash-coloured head'; by which (says Prof. Newton) he means the siskin, otherwise called the aberdevine.

mavys, mavises, song-thrushes. If we take the mavis to be the song-thrush, Turdus musicus, then the throstle may be distinguished as the missel-thrush, Turdus viscivorus. But the mavis is also called throstle. In Cambridge, the name is pronounced mavish (romic mei·vish).

684. sereyns, i. e. Sirens. Cotgrave has: 'Sereine, f. a Mermaid.' Chaucer takes no notice of G. de Lorris' notable etymology, by which he derives Seraines from the adj. seri. Cotgrave gives (marked as obsolete): 'Seri, m. ie, f. Quiet, mild, calm, still; fair, clear.'

693. wel bigo, the opposite of 'woe begone'; as in l. 580. Cf. 'glad and wel begoon'; Parl. Foules, 171.

705. Morris reads Withoute, which improves the line:—'Without-e fabl' I wol descryve.'

720. Read reverdye (see footnote). It means 'rejoicing'; from the renewal of green things in spring. [422]

744. carole, a dance; orig. a dance in a ring, accompanied with song. Hence, in l. 745, the verb carolen, to sing, in accompaniment to a dance of this character. In Rob. of Brunne's Handlyng Synne, 9138, there is a description of a company carolling 'hand in hand.' And see below, ll. 759-765, 781; Book Duch. 849.

749. The line—'And couthe make in song swich refreininge' is obviously too long. The word couthe is needlessly repeated from l. 747, and must be omitted. The Fr. text shews that refreininge means the singing of a refrain at the end of each verse.

768. in this contree. This is an adaptation; the original Fr. says 'in any country.' Warton calmly observes: 'there is not a syllable of these songs and singers of Lorraine in the French.' But he consulted a defective copy.

769. timbestere, a female player on a timbrel. Tyrwhitt confuses the matter by quoting Lye, who mixed up this word with tombestere, a female tumbler; for which see Cant. Ta. C 477. They are quite unconnected, but are formed with the same fem. suffix, viz. that which appears also in the mod. E. spin-ster, and in the old words webb-estere, bak-estere, whence the surnames Webster, Baxter. In l. 772, timbres simply mean timbrels, and tambourine-players may still be performing the easy trick of throwing up a tambourine and catching it, spinning, on a finger-point. There is therefore no reason for explaining timbre as a basin. Nevertheless, such a mistake arose, and Junius quotes (s.v. Timbestere) some lines from an edition of Le Roman de la Rose, printed in 1529, in which the following lines here occur:—

It is tolerably certain that this is a corrupt form of the passage, and only makes the matter darker. All it proves is, that timbre was, by some, supposed to mean a basin! No doubt it had that sense (see Cotgrave), but not here.

Timbestere is a mere English form of the O.F. tymberesse, a player on a timbre. Diez, in his Dictionary, cites a passage from a commentary on the Psalms, given in Roquefort, Poés. franç, p. 127, to this effect:—'li tymbres est uns estrumenz de musique qui est couverz d'un cuir sec de bestes'; i. e. it is the Lat. tympanum. So also, in Wright's Vocab. col. 616, l. 28, we have:—'Timpanum, a taber, or a tymbre.' In Allit. Poems, ed. Morris, ii. 1414, we read of the sound of 'tymbres and tabornes,' and of 'symbales,' i. e. cymbals. In King Alisaunder, [423]ed. Weber, 191, we again have tymbres meaning 'timbrels.' Wyclif, in his tr. of Isaiah, v. 12, has 'tymbre and trumpe,' to translate 'tympanum et tibia'; and the word is well preserved in the mod. E. dimin. timbr-el.

770. saylours, dancers; from O. F. saillir, Lat. salere; cf. 'Salyyn, salio'; Prompt. Parv. The M. E. sailen, to dance, occurs in P. Plowman, C xvi. 208 (see my note); and in Rob. of Glouc. l. 5633 (or p. 278, ed. Hearne).

791. Ne bede I. The Fr. text means—'I would never seek to go away.' As e and o are constantly confused, I change bode (which gives no sense) into bede; i. e. 'I would never pray.' Bede is the pt. t. subj. of bidden, to pray. Gower uses ne bede in the same sense; 'That I ne bede never awake'; Conf. Am. ii. 99.

840. to-slitered, very much 'slashed' with small cuts. It is well known that slashed or snipped sleeves, shewing the colour of the lining beneath them, were common in the Tudor period; and it here appears that they were in vogue much earlier. Sliteren is the frequentative form of sliten, to slit.

843. decoped, cut, slashed. The shoes were slashed like the dress; the Fr. text has here decopes, which, only just above, is translated by to-slitered. Cf. the expression 'galoches y-couped' in P. Plowman, C. xxi. 12, and see my note on that passage. Halliwell is quite wrong in confusing decoped with coppid, i. e. peaked. See note to Mill. Ta. A 3318.

860. The readings pleye, pley are evidently false; the scribe has omitted the stroke for n above the vowel. The right reading is obviously playn, i. e. plain, smooth; it translates F. poli, just as frounceles translates sans fronce, without a wrinkle.

865. If the reader prefers to keep eleven (or twelve) syllables in this line, I am sorry for him.

869. orfrays, gold embroidery; see note to l. 562. In this case, the gold seems to have been embroidered on silk; see l. 872.

886. quistroun, a kitchen-boy, scullion. Godefroy gives the forms coistron, coitron, coisteron, quistron, coestron, with the sense 'marmiton.' His examples include the expressions 'coitron de la cuisine,' and 'un quistroun de sa quisyne.' The addition of de la (sa) cuisine shew that the word meant no more than 'boy' or 'lad'; such a lad as was often employed in the kitchen.

892. amorettes, (probably) love-knots. Such seems also to be the meaning in the passage in the Kingis Quair, st. 47, which was probably [424]imitated from the present one. But both passages are sufficiently obscure. The word occurs again, below, in l. 4755, where the meaning is different, viz. young girls, sweethearts; but we must remember that it is there employed by a different translator. In the present passage, the Fr. text is obscure, and it is possible that par fines amoretes means 'by beautiful girls.' The note in Bell's Chaucer says accordingly:—'these flowers were painted by amorous young ladies;' and adds that 'with here means by.' But this will hardly serve. We have no proof that Chaucer so understood the French; and if 'with means by' here, it must have the same sense in l. 894, which would mean that birds, leopards, and lions all lent a hand in painting. On the whole, the sense 'love-knots' seems the safest.

893. losenges and scochouns, lozenges (or diamond-shaped figures) and escutcheons.

915. archaungel, supposed to mean 'a titmouse,' answering to F. mesange. But no other example of this use is known.

923. This line is too long; I omit ful wel devysed, which is not in the original.

933. thwiten, cut, shaped; pp. of thwyten, to cut (see Hous of Fame, 1938); cf. thwitel in the Reves Ta. A 3933, and E. whittle.

1008. I. e. Beauty was also the name of an arrow; see l. 952. The allegory is rather of a mixed kind.

1014. byrde, i. e. bride (though the words are different); Fr. espousee. bour, bower; the usual name for a lady's chamber.

1018. I alter the wintred of the old copies to windred, to make the form agree with that in l. 1020. To windre is evidently a form suggested by the Fr. guignier. There are two verbs of this form; the more common is guigner, to wink (see Cotgrave); the other is given by Godefroy as guignier, guigner, guingnier, guinier, gignier, with the senses 'parer, farder,' i. e. to trick out. Note the original line: 'Ne fu fardee ne guignie'; and again in l. 2180: 'Mais ne te farde ne guigne.' The sense, in the present passage, is evidently 'to trim,' with reference to the eyebrows. 'Her eyebrows were not artificially embellished.'

Poppen, in l. 1019, has much the same sense, and is evidently allied to F. popin, 'spruce, neat, briske, trimme, fine,' in Cotgrave.

1031. I read Wys for want of a better word; it answers to one sense of Lat. sapidus, whence the F. sade is derived. However, Cotgrave explains sade by 'pretty, neat, spruce, fine, compt, minion, quaint.' Perhap Queint or Fine would do better. [425]

1049. in hir daungere, under her control; see Prol. A 663, and the note. And see l. 1470.

1050. losengere, deceiver, flatterer; see Non. Pr. Ta. B 4516; Legend of Good Women, 352. Cf. ll. 1056, 1064 below.

1058. I cannot find that there is any such word as prill (as in Th.) or prile (as in G.) in any suitable sense; the word required is clearly prikke. As it was usual to write kk like lk, the word probably looked, to the eye, like prilke, out of which prille may have been evolved. Numerous mistakes have thus arisen, such as rolke for rokke (a rock) in Gawain Douglas, and many more of the same kind. M. Michel here quotes an O. F. proverb—'Poignez vilain, il vous oindra: Oignez vilain, il vous poindra.'

1080. Read améled, as in Speght; of which enameled is a lengthened form, with the prefix en-. It signifies 'enamelled.' Palsgrave gives a good example. 'I ammell, as a goldesmyth dothe his worke, Iesmaille. Your broche is very well amelled: vostre deuise est fort bien esmaillee.' See Ameled in the New Eng. Dict. See also the long note in Warton (sect. xiii, where this passage is quoted) on enamelling in the middle ages. He cites the Latin forms amelitam and amelita in the sense 'enamelled,' and shews that the art flourished, in particular, at Limoges in France.

1081. of gentil entaile, of a fine shape, referring to her neck, apparently; or it may refer to the collar. Halliwell quotes from MS. Douce 291 'the hors of gode entaile,' i. e. of a good shape. Cf. entaile, to shape, in l. 609 above; and see l. 3711.

1082. shet, shut, i. e. clasped, fastened. Chevesaile, a collar; properly, the neckband of the robe, as explained in the New E. Dict. Though it does not here occur in the Fr. text, it occurs below in a passage which Chaucer does not exactly translate, though it answers to the 'colere' of l. 1190, q.v. There seems to be no sufficient reason for explaining it by 'necklace' or 'gorget,' as if it were a separable article of attire. It answers to a Lat. type capitiale, from capitium, the opening in a tunic through which the head passed; which explains how the word arose.

1089. The right word is thurte, which the scribe, not understanding, has turned into durst; both here, and in l. 1324 below. Thurte him means 'he needed,' the exact sense required. The use of the dative him is a clear trace of the use of this phrase.

The idea that a gem would repel venom was common; see P. Plowman, B. ii. 14, and my note.

1093. and Fryse, and Friesland. Not in the original, and merely added for the rime.

1094. mourdaunt, mordant, chape, tag. Halliwell explains it 'the tongue of a buckle,' which is probably a guess; it is often mentioned as if it were quite distinct from it. It was probably 'the metal chape or [426]tag fixed to the end of a girdle or strap,' viz. to the end remote from the buckle; see Fairholt's 'Costume.' Godefroy explains it in the same way; it terminated the dependent end of the girdle; and this explains how it could be made of a stone. Warton, in a note on this passage (sect. xiii.), quotes from a wardrobe roll, in which there is mention of one hundred garters 'cum boucles, barris, et pendentibus de argento.'

1103. barres, bars; fixed transversely to the satin tissue of the girdle, and perforated to receive the tongue of the buckle. See note to Prol. A 329.

1106. 'In each bar was a bezant-weight of gold.' A bezant was a gold coin, originally struck at Byzantium, whence the name. It 'varied in weight between the English sovereign and half-sovereign, or less'; New E. Dict.

1117. The false reading ragounces is easily corrected by the original. In Lydgate's Chorle and Bird, st. 34, we find:—'There is a stone which called is iagounce.' Warton rather hastily identifies it with the jacinth. Godefroy says that some make it to be a jacinth, but others, a garnet. Warnke explains iagunce (in Marie de France, Le Fraisne, 130) by 'ruby.'

1137. That is, he would have expected to be accused of a crime equal to theft or murder, if he had kept in his stable such a horse as a hackney. The F. text has roucin, whence Chaucer's rouncy, in Prol. A 390.

1148. I. e. as if his wealth had been poured into a garner, like so much wheat. daungere here means 'parsimony.'

1188. The form sarlynysh (in G.) evidently arose from the common mistake of reading a long s (ſ) as an l. The right reading is, of course, Sarsinesshe, i. e., Saracenic, or coloured by an Eastern dye. Compare the mod. E. sarsnet, a derivative from the same source.

1190. Her neck-band was thrown open, because she had given away the brooch, with which she used to fasten it.

1199. The knight is said to be sib, i. e., akin, to king Arthur, because of the great celebrity of that flower of chivalry.

1201. The reading gousfaucoun is a queer mistake; the scribe seems to have thought that it meant a goshawk! But the sense is war-banner.' See Gonfanon in my Etym. Dict.

1215. at poynt devys, with great exactness, with great regularity; cf. l. 830. The same expression occurs in the Ho. of Fame, 917.

1216. tretys, long and well-shaped; hence this epithet, as applied to the nose of the Prioress; see Prol. A 152. See ll. 932, 1016.

1232. sukkenye, an E. adaptation of the O.F. sorquanie. Cotgrave has: 'Souquenie, f. a canvas Jacket, frock, or Gaberdine; such a one [427]as our Porters wear.' Mod. F. souquenille, a smock-frock. It was therefore a loose frock, probably made, in this case, of fine linen. For a note in the glossary to Méon's edition says that linen was sometimes the material used for it; and we are expressly told, in the text, that it was not made of hempen hards. Cf. Russ. sukno, cloth.

1235. rideled, 'gathered,' or pleated; F. coillie. Not 'pierced like a riddle,' as suggested in Bell's Chaucer, but gathered in folds like a curtain or a modern surplice; from O.F. ridel (F. rideau), a curtain. Cf. 'filettis, and wymplis, and rydelid gownes and rokettis, colers, lacis,' &c.; Reliquiæ Antiquæ, i. 41. Hence, in ll. 1236, 7, the statement that every point was in its right place; because it was so evenly gathered.

1240. 'A roket, or rochet, is a loose linen frock synonymous with sukkenye. The name is now appropriated to the short surplice worn by bishops over their cassocks.'—Bell.

1249, 50. Al hadde he be, even if he had been. As the French copy consulted by Warton here omitted two lines of the original, Warton made the singular mistake of supposing that, in l. 1250, Chaucer intended 'a compliment to some of his patrons.' But William de Lorris died in 1260, so that the seignor de Gundesores was 'Henry of Windsor,' as he was sometimes termed^[287], i. e. no other than Henry III; and the reference was probably suggested by the birth of prince Edward in 1239, unless these two lines were added somewhat later.

1282. The absolutely necessary correction in this line was suggested by Ten Brink, in his Chaucer Studien, p. 30.

1294. I should like to read—'They ne made force of privetee'; pronounced They n' mad-e, &c. But no fors is usual.

1334. For hadde (which gives no sense), read bad; confusion of b and h is not uncommon. And for bent, read bende it; see l. 1336.

1341. Some mending of the text is absolutely necessary, because shette is altogether a false form; the pp. of sheten, to shoot, is shoten. The suggested emendation satisfies the conditions, and makes better sense. So, in l. 1343, read wol me greven.

1348. In ll. 1461, 1582, the F. vergier is translated by yerde. So here, and in l. 1447 (as Dr. Kaluza suggests) we must read yerde in, to make sense. The scribe easily turned yerde in into gardin, but ruined the sense by it. So in l. 1366, yerde would be better than gardin.

1361. notemygge is the form given in the Prompt. Parv. In Sir [428]Topas, 1953, notemuge occurs in all the seven MSS. See note to the same, B 1950, which explains clow-gelofre, i. e. clove, and setewale, i. e., zedoary.

1363. The form alemandres is justified by the Fr. text, which has Alemandiers. The O. F. for 'almond' was at first alemande, before it was shortened to almande; see Almond in the New E. Dict. The sense is 'almond-trees.'

1369. parys or paris is a stupid blunder for paradys, as the Fr. text shews. It was a well-known term. Cotgrave has 'Graine de paradis, the spice called Grains.' Philips explains Paradisi grana as 'cardamum-seed.' Compare the quotation from Langham in the New E. Dict., s. v. Cardamom. Canelle (in l. 1370) is 'cinnamon.'

1374. coyn is the word which has been twisted into quin; and the pl. quins has become the sing. quince.

1377. aleys. 'Aley [adapted from O. Fr. alie, alye (also alis), mod. Fr. alise, alize, from O. H. G. eliza, mod. G. else(beere); the suppression of the s in the O. Fr. is anomalous.] The fruit of the Wild-Service tree'; New E. Dict. No other example of the word is known in English. bolas, bullace; the rime is only a single one.

1379. lorer, laurel; miswritten lorey in G.; cf. l. 1313 above, where loreres is miswritten loreyes.

1385. I should read Pyn, ew, instead of Fyn ew; only we have had pyn already, in l. 1379.

1391. Imitated in the Book Duch. 419; again, l. 1401 is imitated in the same, 429.

1397, 8. The rimed words must needs be knet, set, as in the Parl. Foules, 627, 628.

1405. claperes, burrows. 'Clapier, m. A clapper of conies, a heap of stones, &c., whereinto they retire themselves'; Cotgrave. See Clapper in the New E. Dict.

1414. condys, conduits; Fr. text, conduis. Godefroy gives numerous examples of conduis as the pl. of O. F. conduit, in the sense of safe-conduct, &c. So, in the Ayenbite of Inwyt, p. 91, we find:—'Thise uif wytes byeth ase uif condwys,' i. e. these five wits (senses) are as five channels. by devys, by contrivances (l. 1413).

1420. vel-u-et is here a trisyllabic word; and the u is a vowel, as in A. F. veluet. The mod. E. velvet arose from misreading the u as a v. The Prompt. Parv. has also the form velwet. So in Lydgate, Compl. of the Black Knight, l. 80: 'And soft as vel-u-et,' &c.

1447. As garden makes no sense here, Kaluza reads yerde in; see note to l. 1348.

1448. estres (F. text, l'estre), inner parts; see Rev. Ta. A 4295, and the note.

1453. at good mes, to advantage, from a favourable position; Fr. en [429]bel leu. In l. 3462, the phrase translates F. en bon point. Mes (Lat. missum) is an old Anglo-French hunting-term, answering (nearly) to mod. E. shot. Thus, in Marie de France, Guigemar, 87:—'Traire voleit, si mes ëust,' he wished to shoot, if he could get a good shot. See Ducange, ed. 1887, ix. 270, for two more examples.

1458. Pepyn; the F. text says 'Charles, the son of Pepin.' Charles the Great, who died in 814, was the son of Pepin Le Bref, king of the Franks, who died in 768.

1470. in his daungere, within his control; in l. 1492, daungerous means 'disdainful.' See note to l. 1049.

1498. The right spelling is vilaynsly; it occurs in the Pers. Tale, I 279; and the adj. vilayns in the same, I 627, 715, 854.

1517, 18. The right spellings are sene, adj., visible, and shene, adj., showy, bright.

1537. warisoun, reward; F. guerredon. But this is not the usual sense; it commonly means healing, cure, or remedy; see Guarison in Cotgrave. However, it also means provision, store, assistance; whence it is no great step to the sense of 'reward.' To 'winne a warisun' is to obtain a reward; Will. of Palerne, 2253, 2259. Cf. note to l. 886.

1550. scatheles, without harm. There is actually a touch of humour here; the poet ran no risk of falling in love with such a face as his own.

1564. For moiste, because it was moist, because of its moisture. The adj. has almost the force of a sb. Cf. note to l. 276.

1591. entrees is, of course, a blunder for estres, as the F. text shews. See l. 1448 above, where estres rightly occurs, to represent F. l'estre. accuseth, reveals, shews; see the New Eng. Dict.

1604. 'That made him afterwards lie on his back,' i. e. lie dead (F. mors). The alteration of lye to ligge in MS. G. is a clear example of the substitution of a Northern form.

1608. Here laughyng is a very queer travesty of loving, owing to a similarity in the sound. But the F. text has d'amer, which settles it.

1624. lacche, trap. The usual sense is 'the latch of a door'; but the sense here given is clearly caught from the related verb lacchen, which sometimes meant to catch birds. Thus in P. Plowman, B. v. 355, we find 'forto lacche foules,' i. e. to catch birds. We must not confuse lacche, as here used, with lace, a snare.

1641. We must read syked, not sighede, in order to rime with entryked. Observe that syketh rimes with entryketh in the Parl. of Foules, 404. Further, as the rime is a double one, the word have must be inserted, to fill up the line. It is in the Fr. text, 'tant en ai puis souspire.'

1652. enclos, enclosed; a French form, used for the rime. Cf. clos, in the same sense; The Pearl, l. 2. [430]

1674. roon (in place of Rone); F. text, sous ciaus, 'under the skies.' Bell suggests that there is a reference to the river Rhone, and to the roses of Provence. But the prep. in must mean 'in' or 'upon'; and as roses do not grow on a river, but upon bushes, perhaps roon answers to Lowland Scotch rone, a bush; see Jamieson. Thus Henrysoun, Prol. to Moral Fables, l. 15, has:—'The roisis reid arrayit on rone and ryce'; and G. Douglas has ronnis, bushes. In Roon might mean 'in Rouen'; spelt Roan in Shakespeare.

1677. moysoun, size; Cotgrave has: 'Moyson, size, bignesse, quantity'; from Lat. mensionem, a measuring. See P. Plowman, C. xii. 120, and my note. Not connected with moisson, harvest, as suggested in Bell.

1705. Here ends Chaucer's portion of the translation, in the middle of an incomplete sentence, without any verb. It may have been continued thus (where dide fulfild = caused to be filled):—

We can easily understand that the original MS. ended here suddenly, the rest being torn away or lost. An attempt was made to join on another version, without observing the incompleteness of the sentence. Moreover, the rime is a false one, since swote and aboute have different vowel-sounds. Hence the point of junction becomes visible enough.

Dr. Max Kaluza was the first to observe the change of authorship at this point, though he made Chaucer's portion end at l. 1704. He remarked, very acutely, that Chaucer translates the F. bouton by the word knoppe; see ll. 1675, 1683, 1685, 1691, 1702, whereas the other translator merely keeps the word botoun; see ll. 1721, 1761, 1770.

It is easily seen that ll. 1706-5810 are by a second and less skilful hand. This portion abounds with non-Chaucerian rimes, as explained in the Introduction, and is not by any means remarkable for accuracy. Some of the false rimes are noted below.

As the remaining portion is of less interest and value, I only draw attention, in the notes, to the most important points. I here denote the second portion (ll. 1706-5810) by the name of Section B.

1713. muche, in Sect. B, is usually dissyllabic; perhaps the original had mikel.

1721. In sect. B, the word botoun is invariably misspelt bothum or bothom. That this ridiculous form is wrong, is proved by the occurrence of places where the pl. botouns rimes with sesouns (4011) and with glotouns (4308). I therefore restore the form botoun throughout. [431]

1776. Sect. B is strongly marked by the frequent use of withouten wene, withouten were, withouten drede, and the like tags.

1820. A common proverb, in many languages. 'Chien eschaudé craint l'eau froide, the scaulded dog fears even cold water;' Cotgrave. 'Brend child fur dredeth' is one of the Proverbs of Hending, l. 184. The Fr. text has: 'Qu'eschaudés doit iaue douter.' See Cant. Ta. G 1407. At this point, the translation somewhat varies from the Fr. text, as usually printed. The third arrow is here called Curtesye (1802, cf. 957) instead of Fraunchise (955).

1871. allegeaunce, alleviation; F. text, aleiance. Cf. aleggement, 1890; F. text, alegement; and see l. 1923.

1906. Both texts have Rokyng. A better spelling is either rouking or rukking. It means—'crouching down very closely on account of the pain.' See Kn. Ta. A 1308. (Not in the French text.)

1909. The other four arrows are Beauty (1750), Simplesse (1774), Curtesye (1802, and note to l. 1820), and Companye (1862). But the names, even in the F. text, are not exactly the same as in a former passage; see ll. 952-963 above.

2002. 'For I do not vouchsafe to churls, that they shall ever come near it.' For of (suggested by sauf) we should read to.

2037. As in l. 4681, there is here an allusion to the mode of doing homage, wherein the kneeling vassal places his joined hands between those of his lord. This is still the attitude of one who receives a degree at Cambridge from the Vice-chancellor.

2076. disseise, oust you from possessing it. Disseisin is the opposite of seisin, a putting in possession of a thing.

2092. I take iowell (with a bar through the ll) to be the usual (Northern) contraction for Iowellis, jewels; F. text, joiau, pl. I can find no authority for making it a collective noun, as Bell suggests.

2141. I supply sinne; perhaps the exact word is erre, as suggested by Urry; F. 'Tost porroie issir de la voie.'

2161. poyntith ille, punctuates badly. This is a remarkable statement. As the old MSS. had no punctuation at all, the responsibility in this respect fell entirely on the reader. Ll. 2157-62 are not in the French.

2190. This important passage is parallel to one in the Wife of [432]Bath's Tale, D 1109. Ll. 2185-2202 are not in the French; so they may have been suggested by Chaucer's Tale.

2206. Keye, Sir Kay, one of the knights of the Round Table, who was noted for his discourtesy. For his rough treatment of Sir Beaumains, see Sir T. Malory's Morte d'Arthur, bk. vii. c. 1. On the other hand, Sir Gawain was famed for his courtesy; see Squi. Ta. F 95.

2271. The word aumenere is here used, as in l. 2087 above, to translate the F. aumosniere or aumoniere. In Th., it is miswritten aumere, and in G. it appears as awmere. Hence awmere has gained a place in the New E. Dict., to which it is certainly not entitled. It is not a 'contraction for awmenere,' as is there said, but a mere blunder.

2278. Of Whitsonday, suitable for Whitsunday, a time of great festivity; F. text—'a Penthecouste.'

2279. Both texts have costneth, which makes the line halt. Cost (short for costeth) has the same sense, and suits much better; the F. text has simply couste.

2285. It is clear that Fard, not Farce, is the right reading. Farce would mean 'stuff' or 'cram'; see Prol. A 233. The F. text has—'Mais ne te farde ne ne guigne.' Among the additions by Halliwell and Wright to Nares' Glossary will be found: 'Fard, to paint the face'; with three examples. Cotgrave also has: 'Fardé, Farded, coloured, painted.'

2294. knowith is a strange error for lowhith, or lauhwith, forms of laugheth; F. text, rit.

2301-4. Not in the F. text. I alter pleyneth in l. 2302 to pleyeth, to suit the context more closely.

2327. For meuen I read meve hem, move them. Ll. 2325-8 are not in the French text.

2336. Read Loves. 'Whoever would live in Love's teaching must be always ready to give.' F. text, 'Se nus se vuelt d'amors pener.'

2365. 'Against treachery, in all security.' For is here used for 'against.' F. text, 'Tous entiers sans tricherie.'

2471. fere, fire; spelt fyr in l. 2467. But desyr rimes with nere, l. 2441.

2473. Obscure. The French text helps but little; it means—'whenever thou comest nearer her.' Hence Thought should be That swete, or some such phrase. [433]

2564. 'Like a man that should be defeated in war.' To get a rime to abrede or abreed, abroad, read forwerreyd; see l. 3251.

2573. 'Thou shalt imagine delightful visions.' The 'castles in Spain' are romantic fictions. Cf. Gower, Conf. Am. ii. 99.

2628. To liggen, to lie, is a Northern form; I alter liggen to ly, which occurs in the next line.

2641. contene, contain (thyself). But the F. text has te contendras, which perhaps means 'shalt struggle.'

2650. What whider gives no sense; read What weder, i. e. whatever weather it be; see next line.

2710. Read fare, short for faren, gone; cf. Ovid, Ars Am. ii. 357-8. A note in Bell says—'fore means absent, from the Lat. foris, abroad.' This is a cool invention.

2984. Bial-Acoil, another spelling of Bel-Acueil, i. e. 'a graceful address'; which would be useful in propitiating the lady.

3137. kirked, probably 'crooked,' as Morris suggests. It may be a mere dialectal form of 'crooked,' or it may be miswritten for kroked, the usual old spelling. Halliwell gives, 'kirked, turning upwards,' on the authority of Skinner; but a reference to Skinner shows that his reason for giving the word this sense was solely owing to a notion of deriving it from A. S. cerran, to turn, which is out of the question. On the strength of this Wright, in his Provincial Dictionary, makes up [434]the verb: 'Kirk, to turn upwards.' This is how glossaries are frequently written. The F. text merely has: 'Le nes froncié.'

3337. chevisaunce, resource, remedy. Both G. and Th., and all old editions, have cherisaunce, explained by Speght to mean 'comfort,' though the word is fictitious. Hence Kersey, by a misprint, gives 'cherisaunei, comfort'; which Chatterton adopted.

3356. meygned, maimed. This word takes numerous forms both in M. E. and in Anglo-French.

3501. 'And Pity, (coming) with her, filled the Rosebud with gracious favour.' of = with.

3539. Cf. 'Regia, crede mihi, res est succurrere lapsis'; Ovid, Ex Ponto, Ep. lib. ii. ix. 11.

3604. 'You need be no more afraid.' Here Thynne has turned thar into dare; see l. 3761, and note to l. 1089.

3633. to spanisshing, to its (full) expansion. F. text, espanie, expanded, pp. fem. of espanir, which Cotgrave explains by 'To grow or spread, as a blooming rose.'

3645, 6. vermayle, ruddy, lit. vermilion. abawed, dismayed; variant of abaved, Book Duch. 614; cf. l. 4041 below.

3699. werreyeth, makes war upon; cf. Knight Ta. A 2235, 6. The corrections here made in the text are necessary to the sense.

3811. The F. text has une vielle irese, and M. Méon explains irese by angry, or full of ire. Hence, a note in Bell suggests that irish here means 'full of ire.' But I think M. Méon is wrong; for the O.F. for 'full of ire' is irous, whence M.E. irous; and M. Michel prints Irese with a capital letter, and explains it by 'Irlandaise.' Besides, there is no point in speaking of 'an old angry woman'; whereas G. de Lorris clearly meant something disrespectful in speaking of 'an old Irishwoman.' M. Michel explains, in a note, that the Irish character was formerly much detested in France. I therefore believe that Irish has here its usual sense.

3826. Where Amyas is, is of no consequence; for the name is wrongly given. The F. text has 'a Estampes ou a Miaus,' i. e. at Étampes or at Meaux. Neither place is very far from Paris. Reynes means Rennes in Brittany; see note to Book Duch. 255.

3882. loigne, leash for a hawk. Cotgrave gives: 'Longe,... a hawks lune or leash.' This is the mod. F. longe, a tether, quite a different word from longe, the loin. Longe, a tether, was sometimes spelt loigne in O.F. (see Godefroy), which accounts for the form here used. It answers to Low Lat. longia, a tether, a derivative of longus, long. Perhaps lune is only a variant of the same word. The expression 'to have a long loigne' means 'to have too much liberty.'

3895. Read trecherous, i. e. treacherous people, for the sake of the metre and the rime. Trechours means 'traitors.'

3907. Read loude; for loude and stille is an old phrase; see Barbour's Bruce, iii. 745. It means, 'whether loudly or silently,' i. e. under all circumstances.

3987. purpryse, enclosure; F. porprise, fem. Cotgrave has pourpris, m., in the same sense. See l. 4171.

4032. 'No man, by taming it, can make a sparrow-hawk of a buzzard.' A buzzard was useless for falconry, but a sparrow-hawk was excellent. The F. text gives this as a proverb. Two similar proverbs are given in Cotgrave, s.v. Esparvier.

4096. me sometimes occurs in M. E. as a shorter form of men, in the sense of 'one'; but it is better to read men at once, as it receives the accent. If written 'mē,' it might easily be copied as 'me.'

4176. ginne, war-engine, skaffaut, scaffold; a wooden shed on wheels, to protect besiegers. See the description of one, called 'a sow,' employed at the siege of Berwick in 1319, in Barbour's Bruce, xvii. 597-600; together with other sundry 'scaffatis' in the same, l. 601.

4191. Springoldes (F. perrieres, from Lat. petrariae), engines for casting-stones; spelt spryngaldis in Barbour's Bruce, xvii. 247. From O. F. espringale, a catapult; from G. springen, to spring.

4195. kernels, battlements; F. text, creniaus. Cf. P. Plowm. C., viii. 235; B. v. 597.

4196. arblasters (answering to Lat. arcuballistra), a variant form of arblasts or arbalests (answering to Lat. arcuballista), huge cross-bows, for discharging missiles. See Arbalest in the New E. Dict.

4248. distoned, made different in tone, out of tune. Cotgrave gives: 'Destonner, to change or alter a tune, to take it higher or lower.'

4250. horn-pypes, pipes made of horn; but the F. text has estives, pipes made of straw. Cornewayle is doubtful; some take it to mean Cornwall; but it was more probably the name of a place in Brittany. A note in Méon's edition of Le Roman de la Rose, iii. 300, suggests 'la ville de Cornouaille, aujourd'hui Quimper-Corentin, qui est en basse Bretagne.' The F. text has Cornoaille.

4286. vekke, an old woman; as in l. 4495. Cf. Ital. vecchia, the same; but it is difficult to see how we came by the Ital. form.

4291. Some late editions read expert, which is clearly right; except gives no sense. Expt, with a stroke through the p, may have been misread as except.

4322. The old reading gives no sense; the corrected reading is due [437]to Dr. Kaluza. It means 'I weened to have bought it very knowingly'; F. Ges cuidoie avoir achetés, I weened to have bought them. Ges = Ge les, i. e. les biens, the property. See note to l. 4352.

4389. M. Méon here quotes a Latin proverb:—'Qui plus castigat, plus amore ligat.'

4432. G. de Lorris here ended his portion of the poem (containing 4070 lines), which he did not live to complete. His last line is:—

When Jean de Meun, more than forty years later, began his continuation, he caught up the last word, commencing thus:—

4472. Perhaps stounde should be wounde. F. 'S'ele ne me fait desdoloir.' Stounde arose from repeating the st in staunche.

4510. Read simpilly; this trisyllabic form is Northern, occurring in Barbour's Bruce, i. 331, xvii. 134. Cf. l. 3861.

4532. for to lowe, to appraise; hence, to be valued at. F. 'De la value d'une pome.' See Allow in the New E. Dict.

4617, 8. not, know not; nist (knew not) would suit better; see l. 4626. eche, eke out, assist.

4697-4700. To him who flees love, its nature is explicable; to you, who are still under its influence, it remains a riddle.

4705. In Tyrwhitt's Gloss., s.v. Fret, he well remarks:—'In Rom. Rose, l. 4705, And through the fret full, read A trouthe fret full.' In fact, the F. text has: 'C'est loiautes la desloiaus.' Fret full is adorned or furnished, so as to be full; from A. S. frætwian, to adorn; cf. fretted full, Leg. of Good Women, 1117; and see Mätzner. Cf. l. 7259. On the whole, I do not think it is an error for bret-ful, i. e. brimful. [438]

4712. This line is not in the F. text; it seems to mean—'a wave, harmful in wearing away the shore.'

4722. 'A thirst drowned in drunkenness'; F. 'C'est la soif qui tous jors est ivre.'

4751. a slowe, a moth; F. taigne (Lat. tinea). But I know of no other example. Hence were, in the next line, must mean to wear away, to fret; cf. note to 4712.

4755. 'And sweethearts are as good in black mourning as when adorned in shining robes.' Cotgrave, s. v. Amourette, quotes a proverb: 'Aussi bien sont amourettes Soubs bureau, que soubs brunettes; Love bides in cottages, as well as in courts.' A burnet was a cloth of a superior quality; see note to l. 226.

4768. Genius is one of the characters in a later part of the F. text, l. 16497 (ed. Méon).

4831. 'For paramours only feign.' But the original has: 'Mes par Amors amer ne daignent,' i. e. 'But they do not deign to love like true lovers'; unless it is a mere exclamation, 'I swear by Love.'

4875, 6. Not in the original. It seems to mean—'who very often seek after destroyed increase (abortion) and the play of love.' Cf. tenen, to harm. But no other instance of for-tened is known, nor yet of crece as short for increes (increase). However, the verb cresen, to increase, is used by Wyclif; see cresce in Stratmann, ed. Bradley.

4910. I. e. to remain till he professes himself, his year of probation being over. So, in l. 4914, leve his abit, to give up his friar's dress.

4943. And mo seems a mistake for Demand, i. e. 'he may go and ask them.' F. 'Ou le demant as anciens.'

5014. This sentence is incomplete; the translator has missed the line—'Et qu'ele a sa vie perdue.' And he missed it thus. He began: 'That, but [i. e. unless] aforn hir,' &c., and was going to introduce, further on, 'She findeth she hath lost hir lyf,' or something of that kind. But by the time he came to 'wade' at the end of l. 5022, where [439]this line should have come in, he had lost the thread of the sentence, and so left it out!

5064. druery, courtship; but here, apparently, improperly used in the sense of 'mistress,' answering to 'amie' in the F. text.

5107. Read herberedest; see Lounsbury, Studies in Chaucer, ii. 14. Pronounce it as herb'redest. F. 'hostelas,' from the verb hosteler.

5123, 4. As these lines are not in the original, the writer may have taken them from Chaucer's Hous of Fame, ll. 1257, 8. The converse seems to me unlikely; however, they are not remarkable for originality. Cf. note to l. 5486.

5162. The sense is doubtful; perhaps—'Then must I needs, if I leave it (i. e. Love), boldly essay to live always in hatred, and put away love from me, and be a sinful wretch, hated by all who love that fault.' Ll. 5165, 6 are both deficient, and require filling up.

5176. 'He who would not believe you would be a fool.' The omission of the relative is common; it appears (as qui) in the F. text. The line is ironical. Cf. ll. 5185-7.

5223. I supply Ne lak (defect) in hem, to make some sense; the F. text does not help here. Half the line is lost; the rest means—'whom they, that ought to be true and perfect in love, would wish to prove.'

5292. The sense is; one friend must help another in every reasonable request; if the request seem unjust, he need not do so, except in two cases, viz. when his friend's life is in danger, or his honour is attacked: 'in quibus eorum aut caput agatur aut fama.' Read in cases two; F. 'en deux cas.'

5353. The original reading would be It hit, i. e. it hideth; then It was dropped, and hit became hidith.

5443. Obscure. The F. text has: 'Et que por seignors ne les [440]tiengnent' Perhaps it means: 'They perform it (their will) wholly'; see l. 5447.

5486. 'Friend from affection (affect), and friend in appearance.' Chaucer, in his Balade on Fortune, l. 34, has 'Frend of effect [i. e. in reality], and frend of countenance.' And as the passage is not in the French, but is probably borrowed from Chaucer, we see that effect (not affect) is the right reading here; see l. 5549.

5491. The reading of Th. and G. is clearly wrong. The F. text helps but little. I read al she, i. e. all that she.

5507. flaterye is very inappropriate; we should expect iaperye, i. e. mockery. F. text, 'a vois jolie.'

5510. I. e. 'Begone, and let us be rid of you.' See Troilus, iii. 861, and note. (Probably borrowed from Chaucer.)

5523-9. 'This appears to be taken from Ecclus. xxii. 26.'—Bell. This reference is to the Vulgate; in the A.V., it is Ecclus. xxii. 22. Compare ll. 5521-2 with the preceding verse. With l. 5534 cf. Eccles. vii. 28.

5541. So in Shakespeare; 2 Hen. IV. v. 1. 34. Michel cites: 'Verus amicus omni praestantior auro.'

5585, 6. I fill up the lines so as to make sense. miches, F. 'miches.' A miche is a loaf of fine manchet bread, of good quality; see Cotgrave. chiche (l. 5588) is 'niggardly.'

5590. mauis, (as in G. and Th.) is clearly an error for muwis, or, muis, bushels. The F. text has muis, i. e. bushels (from Lat. modius). For the M.E. form muwe or mue, cf. M.E. puwe or pue (Lat. podium). The A.F. form muy occurs in the Liber Custumarum, ed. Riley, i. 62.

5598. that, perhaps 'that gold'; see l. 5592. 'And though that (gold) lie beside him in heaps.' It is better to read it.

5600. Asseth, a sufficiency, enough; see note to P. Plowman, C. xx. 203; and the note to Catholicon Anglicum, p. 13, n. 6.

5649. Pictagoras, Pythagoras; the usual form, as in Book Duch. 1167. He died about B. C. 510. He was a Greek philosopher, who taught the doctrine of the transmigration of souls, and he is here said to have taught the principle of the absorption of the soul into the supreme divinity. None of his works are extant. Hierocles of Alexandria, in the fifth century, wrote a commentary on the Golden Verses, which professed to give a summary of the views of Pythagoras.

5661. From Boethius, de Consolatione Philosophiæ, lib. i. pr. 5; lib. v. pr. 1. See notes to the Balade of Truth, ll. 17, 19. [441]

5673. ribaud, here used in the sense of 'a labouring man.' In the F. text he is spoken of as carrying 'sas de charbon,' i. e. sacks of coal.

5683. It is quite possible that Shakespeare caught up the phrase 'who would fardels bear,' &c., from this line in a black-letter edition of Chaucer. His next line—'To grunt and sweat under a weary life'—resembles ll. 5675-6; and 'The undiscovered country' may be from ll. 5658-5664. And see note to l. 5541. (But it is proper to add that Shakespearian scholars in general do not accept this as a possibility.)

5702. yeten, poured; a false form; correctly, yoten, pp. of yeten, to pour (A. S. gēotan, pp. goten).

5739-5744. Not in the F. text, but inserted as a translation of some lines by Guiot de Provins, beginning: 'Fisicien sont apelé Sanz fi ne sont-il pas nommé.' See La Bible Guiot de Provins, v. 2582, in Fabliaux et Contes, édit. de Méon, tom. ii. p. 390. We must spell the words fysyk and fysycien as here written. A mild joke is intended. These words begin with fy, which (like E. fie!) means 'out upon it'; and go on with sy (= si), which means 'if,' and expresses the precariousness of trusting to doctors. Cf. Lounsbury, Studies in Chaucer, ii. 222.

5749. 'Because people do not live in a holy manner.' This is ironical. The word 'Her' refers to 'tho that prechen,' i. e. the clergy; F. 'devins.' But the F. text has—'Cil [i. e. the preachers] ne vivent pas loiaument.' See ll. 5750-1.

5759. Proverbial. F. 'Deceus est tex decevierres.' See Reves Ta. A 4321; P. Plowman, C. xxi. 166, and the note.

5810. This answers to l. 5170 of the original; after which there is a gap of some 6000 lines, which are entirely lost in the translation. L. 5811 answers to l. 10717 of the F. text. The last portion, or part C, of the E. text (ll. 5811-7698) may be by a third hand. Part C is considerably better than Part B, and approaches very much nearer to Chaucer's style; indeed, Dr. Kaluza accepts it as genuine, but I am not myself (as yet) fully convinced upon this point. See further in the Introduction.

5855, 6. To, i. e. against; F. 'Contre.' Fair-Welcoming; F. 'Bel-Acueil'; called Bialacoil in Fragment B of the translation.

5931. letting, hindrance; F. 'puisse empéeschier.' He cannot prevent another from having what he has himself paid for.

5953. According to one account, Aphrodite was the daughter of Cronos and Euonyme; and the Romans identified Aphrodite with Venus, and Cronos with Saturnus. The wife of Cronos was Rhea.

5962. Two of the fathers were Mars and Anchises; and there are several other legends about the loves of Venus.

5978. Here sparth, with trilled r, appears to be dissyllabic; cf. ll. 3962, 5047, 5484, 6025. Or supply with before gisarme.

6002. chinchy, niggardly. For grede read gnede, i. e. stingy (person); A. S. gnēð.

6024. 'They act like fools who are outrageous,' i. e. they act foolishly. F. 'Il ne feront mie que sage'; which seems to mean just the contrary.

6025. forsworn, with trilled r, seems to be trisyllabic; see note to l. 5978. But it is better to read forsworen.

6027. piment is much the same as clarree; in fact, in l. 5967, where the E. has clarree, the F. text has piment. Tyrwhitt says, s. v. clarre; 'wine mixed with honey and spices, and afterwards strained till it is clear. It is otherwise called Piment, as appears from the title of the following receipt, in the Medulla Cirurgiae Rolandi, MS. Bodl. 761, fol. 86: Claretum bonum, sive Pigmentum,' &c., shewing that piment is spiced wine, with a third part of honey; see Piment in Halliwell.

6033. vicaire, deputy. In Méon's edition, the F. text has: 'Ja n'i querés autres victaires'; but Kaluza quotes five MSS. that read vicaires.

6068. King of harlots; F. 'rois des ribaus.' The sense is 'king of rascals.' There is a note on the subject in Méon's edition. It quotes Fauchet, Origine des Dignités, who says that the roi des ribauds was an officer of the king's palace, whose duty it was to clear out of it the men of bad character who had no business to be there. M. Méon quotes an extract from an order of the household of king Philippe, A.D. 1290:—'Le Roy des Ribaus, vi. d. de gages, une provende de xl. s. pour robbe pour tout l'an, et mengera à court et n'aura point de livraison.' [443]It further appears that the title of Roi des ribaus was often jocularly conferred on any conspicuous vagabond; as e.g. on the chief of a gang of strolling minstrels. See the note at p. 369 of Political Songs, ed. T. Wright, where it is shewn that the ribaldi were usually 'the lowest class of retainers, who had no other mode of living than following the courts of the Barons, and who were employed on all kinds of disgraceful and wicked actions.' The word harlot had, in Middle English, a similar sense.

6083. 'Which I do not care should be mentioned'; cf. l. 6093, which means—'They do not care to hear such tales.'

6149. Remember that the speaker is Fals-Semblant, who often speaks ironically; he explains that he has nothing to do with truly religious people, but he dotes upon hypocrites. See l. 6171.

6198. cut, for cutteth, cuts; F. trenche. 'Whom Guile cuts into thirteen branches.' I. e. Guile makes thirteen tonsured men at once; because the usual number in a convent was thirteen, viz. a prior and twelve friars.

6204. Gibbe, Gib (Gilbert); a common name for a tom-cat. Shak. has gib-cat, 1 Hen. IV. i. 2. 83. The F. text has Tibers, whence E. Tibert, Tybalt.

6205. A blank line in G.; Th. has—'That awayteth mice and rattes to killen,' which will not rime, and is spurious. I supply a line which, at any rate, rimes; went his wyle means 'turns aside his wiliness.' F. text—'Ne tent qu'a soris et a ras.'

6247. The legend of St. Ursula and the eleven thousand virgins, who were martyred by the Huns at Cologne in the middle of the fifth century, is mentioned by Alban Butler under the date of Oct. 21, and is told in the Legenda Aurea. The ciergis (in l. 6248) are wax-candles.

6260. wolf; F. Sire Isangrin; such is the name given to the wolf in the Roman de Renard.

6264. wery, worry. Thynne has wirry. In P. Plowman, C. x. 226, [444]we find the pl. wyryeth, with the various readings wirieth, werien, werrieth, wery. See wurȝen in Stratmann.

6279. trepeget, a machine for casting stones; see trepeget in Halliwell, and my note to P. Plowman, A. xii. 91. A mangonel is a similar machine.

6317-8. Kaluza supplies the words within square brackets: G. has only 'But so sligh is the aperceyuyng,' followed by a blank line, in place of which Th. has the spurious line—'That al to late cometh knowyng.' F. text; 'Mès tant est fort la decevance Que trop est grief l'apercevance.'

6337. Sir Robert was a knight's name; Robin, that of a common man, as Robin Hood.

6338. Menour. The Friars Minors were the Franciscan, or Grey Friars; the Jacobins were the Dominicans, or Black Friars.

6341. Elsewhere called 'Streyned-Abstinence,' as in ll. 7325, 7366; F. 'Astenance-Contrainte,' i. e. Compulsory-Abstinence.

6354. All the copies wrongly have bete or beate for lete, i. e. leave. Some fancy the text is wrong, because Méon's edition has 'G'en pren le grain et laiz la paille.' But (says Kaluza) three MSS. have—'Je les le grain et pren la paille'; which better suits the context.

6355. To blynde, to hoodwink; F. 'avugler.' For blynde, G. and Th. actually have Ioly! I supply ther, i. e. where; for sense and metre.

6365. lette, hinder. The friars had power of absolution, independently of the bishop; and it was a bitter grievance.

6390. Note that the penitent is here supposed to address his own parish-priest. Thus he in l. 6391 means the friar.

6418. I, for me, would be better grammar. As it stands, me is governed by pleyne, and I is understood. The F. text has: 'Si que ge m'en aille complaindre.'

6424. 'Whose name is not.' This means; such is his right name, but he does not answer to it; see l. 6428.

6425. 'He will occupy himself for me,' i. e. will take my part; see Chevise in the New E. Dict., sect. 4b. [445]

6449. may never have might, will never be able. If the priest is not confessed to, he will not understand the sins of his flock.

6541, 2. Unnethe that he nis, it is hard if he is not; i. e. he probably is. micher, a petty thief, a purloiner; F. 'lierres.' See the examples of mich in Halliwell. For goddis, read god is; F. 'ou Diex est mentieres.' See Prov. xxx. 9.

6571. bilden is here used as a pt. tense; 'built.' In the next line, read leye, lay, lodged. There is an allusion to the splendid houses built by the friars.

6585. writ, writeth. Alluding to St. Augustine's work De Opere Monachorum, shewing how monks ought to exercise manual labour. His arguments are here made to suit the friars.

6615. 'De Mendicantibus validis; Codex Justin. xi. 25. Justinian, whose celebrated code (called the Pandects) forms the basis of the Civil and Canon Law, was emperor of the Eastern Empire in 527.'—Bell.

6691. Alluding to St. Augustine's treatise De Opere Monachorum ad Aurelium episc. Carthaginensem. Of course he does not mention the Templars, &c.; these are only noticed by way of example.

6693. templers; 'the Knights Templars were founded in 1119 by Hugh de Paganis. Their habit was a white garment with a red cross on the breast. See Fuller, Holy Warre, ii. 16, v. 2.'—Bell. The Knights Hospitallers are described in the same work, ii. 4. The Knights of Malta belonged to this order.

6694. chanouns regulers, Canons living under a certain rule; see the Chan. Yemannes Tale.

6695. 'The White Monks were Cistercians, a reformed order of Benedictines; the Black, the unreformed.'—Bell.

6713. I may abey, 'I may suffer for it'; see Cant. Ta. C 100. The F. text varies.

6763. William of Saint-Amour, a doctor of the Sorbonne, and a canon of Beauvais, about A.D. 1260, wrote a book against the friars, entitled De Periculis nouissimorum Temporum. He was answered by St. Bonaventure and St. Thomas Aquinas, his book was condemned by Pope Alexander IV, and he was banished from France (see l. 6777). See the note in Méon's edition of Le Roman.

6811. Taylagiers (not in F. text), tax gatherers. Cf. taillage, tax, tribute; P. Plowm. C. xxii. 37.

6820. pulle, strip them, skin them. A butcher scalds a hog to make the hair come off more easily (Bell).

6831. entremees. Cotgrave has: 'Entremets, certain choice dishes served in between the courses at a feast.'

6834. 'For, when the great bag (of treasure) is empty, it comes right again (i. e. is filled again) by my tricks.'

6861. Bigyns, Beguines; these were members of certain lay sisterhoods in the Low Countries, from the twelfth century onwards.

6862. palasyns (F. dames palasines), ladies connected with the court. Allied to F. palais, palace; cf. E. palatine.

6911. burdens, repeated from ll. 6902, 6907, is clearly wrong. Perhaps read borders; F. 'philateres.'

6971. 'I intermeddle with match-makings.' See my note to P. Plowman, C. iii. 92 (B. ii. 87); and cf. Ch. Prol. A 212.

7022. bougerons, sodomites; see Godefroy; F. 'bogres.' This long sentence goes on to l. 7058; if (7021) is answered by He shal (7050).

7029. In G. and Th., thefe has become these, by confusion of f with long s; hence also or has become that. But the F. text has—'Ou lerres ou simoniaus.'

7043. caleweys, sweet pears of Cailloux in Burgundy. See my note to P. Plowman, B. xvi. 69. pullaille, poultry.

7063. vounde (so in G. and Th.), if a genuine word, can only be another form of founde, pp. of the strong verb finden, to find. I suppose 'found stone' to mean good building-stone, found in sufficient quantities in the neighbourhood of a site for a castle. The context shews that it here means stone of the first quality, such as could be wrought with the squire (mason's square) and to any required scantilone (scantling, pattern). The general sense clearly is, that the friars oppress the weak, but not the strong. If a man is master of a castle, they let him off easily, even if the castle be not built of freestone of the first quality, wrought by first-rate workmen. (Or read founded.)

7071. sleightes, missiles. The translator could think of no better word, because the context is jocular. If the lord of the castle pelted the friars, not exactly with stones, but with barrels of wine and other acceptable things, then the friars took his part.

7076. equipolences, equivocations. The next line suggests that he should refrain from coarse and downright lies (lete = let alone).

7089. 'And if it had not been for the good keeping (or watchfulness) of the University of Paris.' Alluding to William de St. Amour and his friends; see ll. 6554, 6766.

7092. See the footnote. We must either read They had been turmented (as I give it) or else We had turmented (as in Bell). I prefer They, because it is a closer translation, and suits better with Such in the next line.

7093. I insert fals, for the metre; it is countenanced by traitours in l. 7087. The reference is to the supporters of the book mentioned below.

7102. The book here spoken of really emanated from the friars, but was too audacious to succeed, and hence Fals-Semblant, for decency's sake, is made to denounce it. We may note how the keen satire of Jean de Meun contrives to bring in a mention of this work, under the guise of a violent yet half-hearted condemnation of it by a representative of the friars.

The book appeared in 1255 (as stated in the text), and was called Euangelium Eternum, siue Euangelium Spiritus Sancti. It was compiled by some Dominican and Franciscan friars, from notes made by an abbot named Joachim, and from the visions of one Cyril, a Carmelite. It is thus explained in Southey's Book of the Church, chap. xi. 'The opinion which they started was ... that there should be three Dispensations, one from each Person. That of the Father had terminated when the Law was abolished by the Gospel; ... the uses of the Gospel were obsolete; and in its place, they produced a book, [448]in the name of the Holy Ghost, under the title of the Eternal Gospel.... In this, however, they went too far: the minds of men were not yet subdued to this. The Eternal Gospel was condemned by the church; and the Mendicants were fain to content themselves with disfiguring the religion which they were not allowed to set aside.'

7108. 'In the porch before the cathedral of Notre Dame, at Paris.' A school was for some time held in this porch; and books could be bought there, or near it. Any one could there buy this book, 'to copy it, if the desire took him.'

7113. This is a quotation from the Eternal Gospel. L. 7118 means: 'I am not mocking you in saying this; the quotation is a true one.'

7152. This shews that Fals-Semblaunt does not really condemn the book; he only says it is best to suppress it for the present, till Antichrist comes to strengthen the friars' cause. The satire is of the keenest. Note that, in l. 7164, Fals-Semblaunt shamelessly calls the Eternal Gospel 'our book.' See also ll. 7211-2.

7173. I am obliged to supply two lines by guess here, to make out the sense. The F. text has:—

I. e. By Peter I wish you to understand the pope, and to include also the secular clerks, &c. John represents the friars (l. 7185).

7178. I. e. 'against those friars who maintain all (this book), and falsely teach the people; and John betokens those (the friars) who preach, to the effect that there is no law so suitable as that Eternal Gospel, sent by the Holy Ghost to convert such as have gone astray.' The notion is, that the teaching of John (the type of the law of love, as expounded by the friars) is to supersede the teaching of Peter (the type of the pope and other obsolete secular teachers). Such was the 'Eternal Gospel'; no wonder that the Pope condemned it as being too advanced.

7227. 'But he who dreads my brethren more than Christ subjects himself to Christ's wrath.'

7256. Beggers is here used as a proper name, answering to F. Beguins. The Beguins, members of certain lay brotherhoods which arose in the Low Countries in the beginning of the thirteenth century, were also called Beguards or Begards, which in E. became Beggars. There can be now no doubt that the mod. E. beggar is the same word, and the verb to beg was merely evolved from it. See the articles on Beg, Beggar, Beghard, and Beguine in the New E. Dict. All these [449]names were derived from a certain Lambert Bègue. The Béguins were condemned at the council of Cologne in 1261, and at the general council of Vienne, in 1311. It seems probable that the term Beggars (Beguins) is here used derisively; the people really described seem to be the Franciscan friars, also called Gray friars; see l. 7258.

7259. fretted, ornamented, decked; from A. S. frætwian, to adorn; cf. l. 4705, and Leg. of Good Women, 1117; here ironical.

tatarwagges, ragged shreds, i. e. patches coarsely sewn on. See tatter in my Etym. Dict. The ending -wagges is allied to wag.

The F. text has: 'Toutes fretelées de crotes,' which means all bedaubed with dirt; see frestelé in Godefroy. The translation freely varies from the original, in a score of places. See next line.

7260. knopped, knobbed, dagges, clouts, patches. A more usual sense of dagge is a strip of cloth; see dagge in Stratmann.

7261. frouncen, shew wrinkles; cf. ll. 155, 3137. The comparison to a quail-pipe seems like a guess; in the F. text, we have Hosiaus froncis, wrinkled hose, and 'large boots like a borce à caillier,' said (in Méon) to mean a net for quails. Any way, the translation is sufficiently inaccurate.

7262. riveling, shewing wrinkles; gype, a frock or cassock; cf. gipoun in Prol. A 75.

7363. in tapinage, in secret. Cotgrave has: 'Tapinois, en tapinois, Crooching, lurking ... also, covertly, secretly.' Also: 'Tapineux, lurking, secret'; 'Tapi, hidden'; 'Tapir, to hide; se tapir, to lurk.'

7406. elengeness, cheerlessness; F. 'soussi,' i. e. souci, care, anxiety. See Wyf of B. Ta. D 1199.

7408. saynt, probably 'girt,' i. e. with a girdle on him like that of a Cordelier (Franciscan). The F. has 'qui bien se ratorne,' who attires himself well. (The epithet 'saint' is weak.) A better spelling would be ceint, but no other example of the word occurs. We find, however, the sb. ceint, a girdle, in the Prol. A 329, spelt seint in MS. Ln., and seynt in MSS. Cm. and Hl. ie vous dy, I tell you, occurs in the Somn. Ta. D 1832. [450]

7455. Joly Robin, Jolly Robin, a character in a rustic dance; see Troil. v. 1174, and note.

7456. Jacobin, a Jacobin or Dominican friar. They were also called Black Friars and Friars Preachers (as in l. 7458). Their black robes gave them a melancholy appearance.

7459. 'They would but wickedly sustain (the fame of) their order, if they became jolly minstrels.'

7461. Augustins, Austin Friars; Cordileres, Cordeliers, Franciscan Friars; Carmes, Carmelites, or White Friars; Sakked Friars, Friars of the Sack. The orders of friars were generally counted as four; see note to Prol. A 210. These were the Dominican, Austin, Franciscan, and Carmelite Friars, all of whom had numerous houses in England. There were also Croutched Friars and Friars de Penitentia or de Sacco. The last had houses at Cambridge, Leicester, Lincoln, London, Lynne, Newcastle, Norwich, Oxford, and Worcester; see Godwin, Archæologist's Handbook, p. 178.

7467. 'But you will never, in any argument, see that a good result can be concluded from the mere outward appearance, when the inward substance has wholly failed.' Cf. Hous of Fame, 265-6.

7520. We are here referred back to ll. 3815-3818, where Wicked-Tongue reports evil about the author (here called the 'young man') and Bialacoil (here called Fair-Welcoming).

7538. The repetition of thought (in the rime) is correct; the F. text repeats pensee.

7578. F. text—'Vous en irez où puis [pit] d'enfer.' And, for puis, some MSS. have cul; a fact which at once sets aside the argument in Lounsbury's Studies in Chaucer, ii. 119.

7645. 'The blame (lit. the ill will) would be yours.' For the use of maugre as a sb., compare l. 4399.

7680. 1. 'To shrive folk that are of the highest dignity, as long as the world lasts.' So in the F. text.

7693. 'To read (i. e. give lectures) in divinity'; a privilege reserved for doctors of divinity.

7694. Here G. merely has a wrong half-line:—'And longe haue [451]red'; with which it abruptly ends, the rest of the page being blank, except that explicit is written, lower down, on the same page.

The last of these lines is l. 12564 in Méon's edition. The last line in the whole poem is l. 22052; leaving 9488 lines untranslated, in addition to the gap of 5546 lines of the F. text at the end of Fragment B. Thus the three fragments of the translation make up less than a third of the original.

The fact that Thynne gives the last six lines correctly shews that his print was not made from the Glasgow MS. Indeed, it frequently preserves words which that MS. omits.

This poem is a rather free translation of a similar poem by Guillaume de Deguileville, as pointed out in the Preface, p. 60. The original is quoted beneath the English text.

Explanations of the harder words should, in general, be sought for in the Glossarial Index, though a few are discussed in the Notes.

The language of this translation is, for the most part, so simple, that but few passages call for remark. I notice, however, a few points.

Chaucer has not adhered to the complex metre of the original, but uses a stanza of eight lines of five accents in place of de Deguileville's stanza of twelve lines of four accents.

3. Dr. Koch calls attention to the insertion of a second of, in most of the MSS., before sorwe. Many little words are often thus wrongly inserted into the texts of nearly all the Minor Poems, simply because, when the final e ceased to be sounded, the scribes regarded some lines as imperfect. Here, for example, if sinne be regarded as monosyllabic, a word seems required after it; but when we know that Chaucer regarded it as a dissyllabic word, we at once see that MSS. Gg. and Jo. (which omit this second of) are quite correct. We know that sinne is properly a dissyllabic word in Chaucer, because he rimes it with the infinitives biginne (Cant. Ta. C 941) and winne (same, D 1421), and never with such monosyllables as kin or tin. This is easily tested by consulting Mr. Cromie's very useful Rime-index to the Canterbury Tales. The above remark is important, on account of its wide application. The needless insertions of little words in many of the 15th-century MSS. are easily detected.

4. Scan the line by reading—Glorióus virgín', of all-e flóur-es flóur. Cf. l. 49.

8. Answers to l. 6 of the original—'Vaincu m'a mon aversaire.' Perhaps Venquisht is here the right form; similarly, in the Squieres Tale, F 342, the word vanisshed is to be read as vanísh'd, with the accent on [453]the second syllable, and elision of e. See Ten Brink, Chaucers Sprache, § 257. Otherwise, read Venquis-shed m'hath; cf. mexcuse, XVI. 37 (p. 397).

11. Warne, reject, refuse to hear. So in P. Plowman, C. xxiii. 12, 'whanne men hym werneth' means 'when men refuse to give him what he asks for.'

12. Free, liberal, bounteous. So in Shak. Troilus, iv. 5. 100—'His heart and hand both open and both free.' It may be remarked, once for all, that readers frequently entirely misunderstand passages in our older authors, merely because they forget what great changes may take place in the sense of words in the course of centuries.

13. Largesse, i. e. the personification of liberality; 'thou bestowest perfect happiness.'

14. Cf. original, l. 15—'Quer [for] tu es de salu porte.' Scan by reading—Háv'n of refút. But in l. 33, we have réfut.

15. Theves seven, seven robbers, viz. the seven deadly sins. We could easily guess that this is the meaning, but it is needless; for the original has—'Par sept larrons, pechies mortez,' l. 17; and a note in the Sion Coll. MS. has—'i. seven dedly synnes.' The theme of the Seven Deadly Sins is one of the commonest in our old authors; it is treated of at great length in Chaucer's Persones Tale, and in Piers Plowman.

17. Yow, you. In addressing a superior, it was customary to use the words ye and you, as a mark of respect; but, in prayer, the words thou and thee were usual. Hence, Chaucer has mixed the two usages in a very remarkable way, and alternates them suddenly. Thus, we have thee in l. 5, thou in l. 6, &c., but yow in l. 17, thy in l. 19, you in l. 24; and so on. We even find the plural verbs helpen, l. 104; Beth, l. 134; and ben, l. 176.

20. Accioun, action, is here used in the legal sense; 'my sin and confusion have brought an action (i. e. plead) against me.' It is too close a copy of the original, l. 25—'Contre moy font une accion.'

21. I. e. 'founded upon rigid justice and a sense of the desperate nature of my condition.' Cf. 'Rayson et desperacion Contre moy veulent maintenir'; orig. l. 29. Maintenir, to maintain an action, is a legal term. So, in l. 22, sustene means 'sustain the plea.'

25. Literally—'There is no doubt that thou art not the cause'; meaning, 'Without doubt, thou art the cause.' Misericorde is adopted from the original. According to the usual rule, viz. that the syllable er is usually slurred over in Chaucer when a vowel follows, the word is to be read as mis'ricord-e. So also sov'reyn, l. 69.

27. Vouched sauf, vouchsafed. Tacorde, to accord; cf. talyghte, tamende, &c. in the Cant. Tales.

29. Cf. 'S'encore fust l'arc encordé'; orig, l. 47; and 'l'arc de [454]justice,' l. 42. The French expression is probably borrowed (as suggested in Bell's Chaucer) from Ps. vii. 13—'arcum suum tetendit.' Hence the phrase of Iustice and of yre refers to the bowe.

36. For examples of the use of great assize, or last assize, to signify the Last Judgment, see the New E. Dict., s. v. Assize.

39. Most MSS. read here—'That but thou er [or or] that day correcte me'; this cannot be right, because it destroys the rime. However, the Bedford MS., instead of correcte me, has Me chastice; and in MS. C me chastyse is written over an erasure (doubtless of the words correcte me). Even thus, the line is imperfect, but is completed by help of the Sion MS., which reads me weel chastyce.

41. Rather close to the original—'Fuiant m'en viens a ta tente Moy mucier pour la tormente Qui ou monde me tempeste,' &c. Mucier means 'to hide,' and ou means 'in the,' F. au.

50. Bitter; Fr. text 'amere.' The allusion is to the name Maria, Gk. Μαρία, Μαριάμ, the same as Miriam, which is explained to mean 'bitterness,' as being connected with Marah, i. e. bitterness; see Exod. xv. 23 (Gesenius). Scan the line by reading: neíth'r in érth-ë nór.

57, 58. Closely copied from the French, ll. 85-87. But the rest of the stanza is nearly all Chaucer's own. Cf. Col. ii. 14.

67. The French means, literally—'For, when any one goes out of his way, thou, out of pity, becomest his guide, in order that he may soon regain his way.'

70. The French means—'And thou bringest him back into the right road.' This Chaucer turns into—'bringest him out of the wrong road'; which is all that is meant by the crooked strete.

71. In the ending -eth of the third pers. sing. present, the e is commonly suppressed. Read lov'th. So also com'th in l. 99.

73. The French means—'Calendars are illumined, and other books are confirmed (or authenticated), when thy name illumines them.' Chaucer has 'illuminated calendars, in this world, are those that are brightened by thy name.' 'An allusion to the custom of writing the high festivals of the Church in the Calendar with red, or illuminated, letters'; note in Bell's Chaucer. The name of Mary appears several times in old calendars; thus the Purification of Mary is on Feb. 2; the Annunciation, on Mar. 25; the Visitation, on July 2; the Assumption, on Aug. 15; the Nativity, on Sept. 8; the Presentation, on Nov. 21; the Conception, on Dec. 8. Our books of Common Prayer retain all of these except the Assumption and the Presentation. Kalenderes probably has four syllables; and so has enlumined. Otherwise, read Kálendér's (Koch). [455]

76. Him thar, i. e. it needs not for him to dread, he need not dread. It occurs again in the Cant. Tales, A 4320, D 329, 336, 1365, &c.

80. Resigne goes back to l. 112 of the original, where resiné (= resigne) occurs.

81. Here the French (l. 121) has douceur; Koch says it is clear that Chaucer's copy had douleur; which refers to the Mater dolorosa.

86. This line runs badly in the MSS., but is the same in nearly all. Read both' hav-e. I should prefer hav' both-e, where bothe is dissyllabic; see ll. 63, 122. This runs more evenly. The sense of ll. 84-6 seems to be—'Let not the foe of us all boast that he has, by his wiles (listes), unluckily convicted (of guilt) that (soul) which ye both,' &c.

89. The French text refers to Exod. iii. 2. Cf. The Prioresses Tale, C. T. Group B, l. 1658.

97. Koch points out that per-e is here dissyllabic; as in the Compleint to His Purse, l. 11. The French has per, l. 146. Read—Nóble princésse, &c.

100. Melodye or glee; here Koch remarks that Chaucer 'evidently mistook tirelire for turelure.' The Fr. tirelire means a money-box, and the sense of l. 150 of the original is—'We have no other place in which to secure what we possess.' See l. 107 of Chaucer's translation below. But Chaucer's mistake was easily made; he was thinking, not of the mod. Fr. turelure (which, after all, does not mean a 'melody,' but the refrain of a song, like the Eng. tooral looral) but of the O. F. tirelire. This word (as Cotgrave explains) not only meant 'a box having a cleft on the lid for mony to enter it,' but 'also the warble, or song of a lark.' Hence Shakespeare speaks of 'the lark, that tirra-lyra chants,' Wint. Tale, iv. 3. 9.

102. Read N'advócat noón. That the M. E. advocat was sometimes accented on the o, is proved by the fact that it was sometimes cut down to vócat; see P. Plowman, B. ii. 60; C. iii. 61.

110. Oure bille, &c., i. e. 'to bring forward (or offer) a petition on our behalf.' For the old expression 'to put up (or forth) a bill,' see my note to P. Plowman, C. v. 45. Compare also Compleynte unto Pite, l. 44 (p. 273).

113. Read tym-e. Tenquere, for to enquere; cf. note to l. 27. Cf. the French d'enquerre, l. 169.

116. To werre; F. 'pour guerre,' l. 173; i. e. 'by way of attack.' Us may be taken with wroughte, i. e. 'wrought for us such a wonder.' Werre is not a verb; the verb is werreyen, as in Squi. Ta. l. 10.

119. Ther, where, inasmuch as. 'We had no salvation, inasmuch as we did not repent; if we repent, we shall receive it.' But the sentence is awkward. Cf. Mark i. 4; Matt. vii. 7.

125. Mene, mediator; lit. mean (intermediate) person. So in P. Plowman, B. vii. 196—'And Marie his moder be owre mene bitwene.' [456]

132. Koch thinks that the false reading it in some MSS. arose from a reading hit (= hitteth) as a translation of F. fiert, l. 196. Anyway, the reading is seems best. Surely, 'his reckoning hits so hideous' would be a most clumsy expression.

140. Vicaire, deputed ruler; not in the original. See note to Parliament of Foules, l. 379.

141. Governeresse; copied from the French text, l. 214. This rare word occurs, as the last word, in a poem beginning 'Mother of norture, printed in the Aldine Edition of Chaucer's Poems, vi. 275. Chaucer himself uses it again in the Complaint to Pity, l. 80 (p. 275).

144. Compare the expressions Regina Celi, Veni coronaberis, 'Heil crowned queene,' and the like; Polit., Religious, and Love Poems, ed. Furnivall, p. 147; Hymns to the Virgin, ed. Furnivall, pp. 1, 4. Suggested by Rev. xii. 1.

146. Koch notes that the reading depriued arose from its substitution for the less familiar form priued.

150. The reference is, obviously, to Gen. iii. 18; but thorns here mean sins. Cf. 'Des espines d'iniquite'; F. text, l. 224.

158. Copied from the French, l. 239—'Ou tu a la court m'ajournes.' It means 'fix a day for me to appear at thy court,' cite me to thy court.

159. Not in the original. Chaucer was thinking of the courts of the Common Bench and King's Bench, as mentioned, for example, in Wyclif's Works, ed. Arnold, iii. 215.

161. The word Xristus, i. e. Christus, is written Xpc (with a mark of contraction) in MSS. C., Gl., Gg., and Xpūs in F. Xpc is copied from the French; but it is very common, being the usual contracted form of the Gk. Χριστός, or, in capital letters, XPICTOC, obtained by taking the two first and the last letters. The old Greek sigma was written C; as above. De Deguileville could think of no French word beginning with X; so he substituted for it the Greek chi, which resembled it in form.

163, 164. These lines answer to ll. 243, 247 of the French; 'For me He had His side pierced; for me His blood was shed.' Observe that the word Christus has no verb following it; it is practically an objective case, governed by thanke in l. 168. 'I thank thee because of Christ and for what He has done for me.' In l. 163, the word suffre is understood from the line above, and need not be repeated. Unfortunately, all the scribes have repeated it, to the ruin of the metre; for the line then contains two syllables too many. However, it is better omitted. Longius is trisyllabic, and herte (as in the next line) is dissyllabic. The sense is—'to suffer His passion on the cross, and also (to suffer) that Longius should pierce His heart, and make,' &c. Pighte, made, are in the subjunctive. The difficulty really resides in the word that in l. 161. If Chaucer had written eek instead of it, the whole could be parsed.

Koch reads 'Dreygh eek' for 'And eek,' in l. 163, where 'Dreygh' means 'endured.' But I do not think Dreygh could be used in this connection, with the word that following it. [457]

The story of Longius is very common; hence Chaucer readily introduced an allusion to it, though his original has no hint of it. The name is spelt Longeus in Piers Plowman, C. xxi. 82 (and is also spelt Longinus). My note on that passage says—'This story is from the Legenda Aurea, cap. xlvii. Longinus was a blind centurion, who pierced the side of Christ; when drops of the Sacred Blood cured his infirmity. The day of St. Longinus is Mar. 15; see Chambers, Book of Days. The name Longinus is most likely derived from λόγχη, a lance, the word used in John xix. 34; and the legend was easily developed from St. John's narrative. The name Longinus first appears in the Apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus.' See also the Chester Plays, ed. Wright; Cursor Mundi, p. 962; Coventry Mysteries, ed. Halliwell, p. 334; York Mystery Plays, p. 368; Lamentation of Mary Magdalen, st. 26; &c.

164. Herte is the true M. E. genitive, from the A. S. gen. heortan. Herte blood occurs again in the Pardoneres Tale, C 902.

169-171. Close to the French, ll. 253-5; and l. 174 is close to l. 264 of the same. Cf. Heb. xi. 19; Jo. i. 29; Isaiah, liii. 7.

176. This line can best be scanned by taking That as standing alone, in the first foot. See note to Compl. to Pite, l. 16. Koch suggests that our-e is dissyllabic; but this would make an unpleasing line; 'That yé | ben fróm | veng'áunce | ay oú | re targe ||.' I hope this was not intended; 'fróm | veng'áun | cë áy | our' would be better.

177. The words of Zechariah (xiii. 1) are usually applied to the blood of Christ, as in Rev. i. 5. Chaucer omits ll. 266-7 of the French.

181. Koch, following Gg, reads—'Now lady bright, siththe thou canst and wilt.' I prefer 'bright-e, sith'; brighte is a vocative.

Title. In MS. B., the poem is entitled, 'The Complaynte vnto Pyte,' which is right. In MS. Trin., there is a colophon—'Here endeth the exclamacioun of the Deth of Pyte'; see p. 276. In MS. Sh. (in Shirley's handwriting) the poem is introduced with the following words—'And nowe here filowing [following] begynnethe a complaint of Pitee, made by Geffray Chaucier the aureat Poete that euer was fonde in oure vulgare to-fore hees [for thees?] dayes.' The first stanza may be considered as forming a Proem; stanzas 2-8, the Story; and the rest, the Bill of Complaint. The title 'A complaint of Pitee' is not necessarily incorrect; for of may be taken in the sense of 'concerning,' precisely as in the case of 'The Vision of Piers the Plowman.' As to the connection of this poem with the Thebaid of Statius, see notes to ll. 57 and 92. [458]

1. I do not follow Ten Brink in putting a comma after so. He says: 'That so refers to the verb [sought] and not to yore ago, is evident from l. 3. Compare the somewhat different l. 93.' I hope it shews no disrespect to a great critic if I say that I am not at all confident that the above criticism is correct; l. 93 rather tells against it. Observe the reading of l. 117 in MS. Sh. (in the footnotes, p. 276).

9. Ever in oon, continually, constantly, always in the same way; cf. Cant. Tales, E 602, 677, F 417.

11. Me awreke. 'The e of me is elided'; Ten Brink. He compares also Cant. Ta. Prol. 148; (the correct reading of which is, probably—

the e of sche being slurred over before i in if). He also refers to the Prioresses Tale (B 1660), where thalighte = thee alighte; and to the Second Nonnes Tale (G 32), where do me endyte is to be read as do mendyte. Cf. note to A B C, l. 8.

14. The notion of Pity being 'buried in a heart' is awkward, and introduces an element of confusion. If Pity could have been buried out of the heart, and thus separated from it, the whole would have been a great deal clearer. This caution is worth paying heed to; for it will really be found, further on, that the language becomes confused in consequence of this very thing. In the very next line, for example, the hearse of Pity appears, and in l. 19 the corpse of Pity; in fact, Pity is never fairly buried out of sight throughout the poem.

15. Herse, hearse; cf. l. 36 below. It should be remembered that the old herse was a very different thing from the modern hearse. What Chaucer refers to is what we should now call 'a lying in state'; with especial reference to the array of lighted torches which illuminated the bier. See the whole of Way's note in Prompt. Parvulorum, pp. 236, 237, part of which is quoted in my Etym. Dict., s. v. hearse. The word hearse (F. herce) originally denoted a harrow; next, a frame with spikes for holding lights in a church service; thirdly, a frame for lights at a funeral pageant or 'lying in state'; fourthly, the funeral pageant itself; fifthly, a frame on which a body was laid, and so on. 'Chaucer,' says Way, 'appears to use the term herse to denote the decorated bier, or funeral pageant, and not exclusively the illumination, which was a part thereof; and, towards the sixteenth century, it had such a general signification alone.' In ll. 36-42, Chaucer describes a company of persons who stood round about the hearse. Cf. Brand's Popular Antiquities, ed. Ellis, ii. 236-7; Eng. Gilds, ed. Toulmin Smith, p. 176.

'The hearse was usually a four-square frame of timber, which was hung with black cloth, and garnished with flags and scutcheons and lights'; Strutt, Manners and Customs of the English, iii. 159. See the whole passage, which describes the funeral of Henry VII. [459]

16. In most MSS., Deed stands alone in the first foot. In which case, scan—Deed | as stoon | whyl that | the swogh | me laste. Cf. A B C, l. 176, and the note. However, two MSS. insert a, as in the text.

27. Cf. Deth of Blaunche, l. 587—'This is my peyne withoute reed'; Ten Brink. See p. 297.

33. Ten Brink reads ay for ever, on the ground that ever and never, when followed by a consonant, are dissyllabic in Chaucer. But see Book of the Duchesse, l. 73 (p. 279).

34. Hadde, dissyllabic; it occasionally is so; mostly when it is used by itself, as here. Cf. Book of the Duch. l. 951 (p. 309).

37. 'Without displaying any sorrow.' He now practically identifies Pity with the fair one in whose heart it was said (in l. 14) to be buried. This fair one was attended by Bounty, Beauty, and all the rest; they are called a folk in l. 48.

41. Insert and after Estaat or Estat, for this word has no final -e in Chaucer; see Prol. A 522; Squi. Tale, F 26; &c.

50. MS. Sh. is right. The scribe of the original of MSS. Tn. Ff. T. left out I and these, and then put in only; then another scribe, seeing that a pronoun was wanted, put in we, as shewn by MSS. F. B. (Ten Brink). Here, and in l. 52, the e of alle is either very lightly sounded after the cæsural pause, or (more likely) is dropped altogether, as elsewhere.

57. He here addresses his fair one's Pity, whom he personifies, and addresses as a mistress.

By comparison of this passage with l. 92, it becomes clear that Chaucer took his notion of personifying Pity from Statius, who personifies Pietas in his Thebaid, xi. 457-496. I explained this at length in a letter to The Academy, Jan. 7, 1888, p. 9. In the present line, we find a hint of the original; for Statius describes Pietas in the words 'pudibundaque longe Ora reducentem' (l. 493), which expresses her humility; whilst the reverence due to her is expressed by reuerentia (l. 467).

59. Sheweth ... Your servaunt, Your servant sheweth. Sheweth is the word used in petitions, and servant commonly means 'lover.'

64. Crueltee, Cruelty, here corresponds to the Fury Tisiphone, who is introduced by Statius (Theb. xi. 483) to suppress the peaceful feelings excited by Pietas, who had been created by Jupiter to control the passions even of the gods (l. 465). At the siege of Thebes, Pietas was for once overruled by Tisiphone; and Chaucer complains here that she is again being controlled; see ll. 80, 89-91. Very similar is the character of Daungere or Danger (F. Dangier) in the Romaunt of [460]the Rose; in l. 3549 of the English Version (l. 3301 of the original), we find Pity saying—

We may also compare Machault's poem entitled Le Dit du Vergier, where we find such lines as—

70. Hight, is (rightly) named. The final -e, though required by grammar, is suppressed; the word being conformed to other examples of the third person singular of the present tense, whilst hight-e is commonly used as the past tense. Pity's right name is here said to be 'Beauty, such as belongs to Favour.' The poet is really thinking of his mistress rather than his personified Pity. It is very difficult to keep up the allegory.

76. Wanten, are lacking, are missing, are not found in, fall short. 'If you, Pity, are missing from Bounty and Beauty.' There are several similar examples of this use of want in Shakespeare; e.g. 'there wants no junkets at the feast'; Tam. Shrew, iii. 2. 250.

78. This Bille, or Petition, may be divided into three sets of 'terns,' or groups of three stanzas. I mark this by inserting a paragraph-mark (¶ ) at the beginning of each tern. They are marked off by the rimes; the first tern ends with seyne, l. 77; the next with the riming word peyne, l. 98; and again with peyne, l. 119.

87. Ten Brink omits wel, with most of the MSS.; but the e in wite seems to be suppressed, as in Book of the Duch. 112. It will hardly bear a strong accent. Mr. Sweet retains wel, as I do.

91. Pronounce the third word as despeir'd. 'Compare 1 Kings x. 24: And all the earth sought to Solomon'; Ten Brink.

92. Herenus has not hitherto been explained. It occurs in four MSS., Tn. F. B. Ff.; a fifth (T.) has 'heremus'; the Longleat MS. has 'heremus' or 'herenius'; Sh. substitutes 'vertuouse,' and MS. Harl. 7578 has 'Vertoues'; but it is highly improbable that vertuouse is original, for no one would ever have altered it so unintelligibly. Ten Brink and Mr. Sweet adopt this reading vertuousë, which they make four syllables, as being a vocative case; and of course this is an easy way of evading the difficulty. Dr. Furnivall once suggested hevenus, which I presume is meant for 'heaven's'; but this word could not possibly be accented as hevénus. The strange forms which proper names assume in Chaucer are notorious; and the fact is, that Herenus is a mere error for Herines or Herynes. Herynes (accented on y), [461]occurs in St. 4 of Bk. iv of Troilus and Criscide, and is used as the plural of Erinnys, being applied to the three Furies:—'O ye Herynes, nightes doughtren thre.' Pity may be said to be the queen of the Furies, in the sense that pity (or mercy) can alone control the vindictiveness of vengeance. Shakespeare tells us that mercy 'is mightiest in the mightiest,' and is 'above this sceptred sway'; Merch. Ven. iv. 1. 188.

Chaucer probably found this name precisely where he found his personification of Pity, viz. in Statius, who has the sing. Erinnys (Theb. xi. 383), and the pl. Erinnyas (345). Cf. Æneid, ii. 337, 573.

In a poem called The Remedy of Love, in Chaucer's Works, ed. 1561, fol. 322, back, the twelfth stanza begins with—'Come hither, thou Hermes, and ye furies all,' &c., where it is plain that 'thou Hermes' is a substitution for 'Herines.'

95. The sense is—'the longer I love and dread you, the more I do so.' If we read ever instead of ay, then the e in the must be suppressed. 'In ever lenger the moore, never the moore, never the lesse, Chaucer not unfrequently drops the e in the, pronouncing lengerth, neverth'; cf. Clerkes Tale, E 687; Man of Lawes Tale, B 982; Ten Brink.

96. Most MSS. read so sore, giving no sense. Ten Brink has—'For sooth to seyne, I bere the hevy soore'; following MS. Sh. It is simpler to correct so to the, as suggested by Harl. 7578, which has—'For soith [error for sothly] for to saye I bere the sore.'

101. Set, short for setteth, like bit for biddeth, Cant. Tales, Prol. 187, &c. Ten Brink quotes from the Sompnoures Tale (D 1982)—'With which the devel set your herte a-fyre,' where set = sets, present tense.

105. Ten Brink inserts ne, though it is not in the MSS. His note is: 'Ne is a necessary complement to but = "only," as but properly means "except"; and a collation of the best MSS. of the Cant. Tales shows that Chaucer never omitted the negative in this case. (The same observation was made already by Prof. Child in his excellent paper on the language of Chaucer and Gower; see Ellis, Early Eng. Pronunciation, p. 374.) Me ne forms but one syllable, pronounced meen [i. e. as mod. E. main]. In the same manner I ne = iin [pron. as mod. E. een] occurs, Cant. Tales, Prol. 764 (from MS. Harl. 7334)—

Compare Middle High German in (= ich ne), e.g. in kan dir nicht, Walter v. d. Vogelweide, ed. Lachmann, 101. 33. In early French and Provençal me, te, se, &c., when preceded by a vowel, often became m, t, s, &c.; in Italian we have cen for ce ne, &c.' Cf. They n' wer-e in The Former Age, l. 5; and Book of the Duch. 244 (note).

I may remark here that the metre is sometimes difficult to follow; chiefly owing to the fact that the line sometimes begins with an accented syllable, just as, in Milton's L'Allegro, we meet with lines like 'Zéphyr, with Aurora playing.' The accented syllables are sometimes indistinctly marked, and hence arises a difficulty in immediately detecting the right flow of a line. A clear instance of a line beginning with an accented syllable is seen in l. 23—'Slép', and thús meláncolýë.'

1. The opening lines of this poem were subsequently copied (in 1384) by Froissart, in his Paradis d'Amour—

Chaucer frequently makes words like have (l. 1), live (l. 2), especially in the present indicative, mere monosyllables. As examples of the fully sounded final e, we may notice the dative light-e (l. 1), the dative (or adverbial) night-e (l. 2), the infinitive slep-e (3), the adverb ylich-e (9), the dative mind-e (15), &c. On the other hand, hav-e is dissyllabic in l. 24. The e is elided before a following vowel in defaute (5), trouthe (6), falle (13), wite (16), &c. We may also notice that com'th is a monosyllable (7), whereas trewely (33) has three syllables, though in l. 35 it makes but two. It is clear that Chaucer chose to make some words of variable length; and he does this to a much greater extent in the present poem and in the House of Fame than in more finished productions, such as the Canterbury Tales. But it must be observed, on the other hand, that the number of these variable words is limited; in a far larger number of words, the number of syllables never varies at all, except by regular elision before a vowel.

14. The reading For sorwful ymaginacioun (in F., Tn., Th.) cannot be right. Lange proposes to omit For, which hardly helps us. It is clearly sorwful that is wrong. I propose to replace it by sory. Koch remarks that sorwful has only two syllables (l. 85); but the line only admits of one, or of one and a very light syllable.

15. Observe how frequently, in this poem and in the House of Fame, Chaucer concludes a sentence with the former of two lines of a couplet. Other examples occur at ll. 29, 43, 51, 59, 67, 75, 79, 87, 89; i. e. at least ten times in the course of the first hundred lines. The same arrangement occasionally occurs in the existing translation of the Romaunt of the Rose, but with such less frequency as, in itself, to form a presumption against Chaucer's having written the whole of it. [463]

Similar examples in Milton, though he was an admirer of Chaucer, are remarkably rare; compare, however, Comus, 97, 101, 127, 133, 137. The metrical effect of this pause is very good.

23. The texts read this. Ten Brink suggests thus (Ch. Sprache, § 320); which I adopt.

31. What me is, what is the matter with me. Me is here in the dative case. This throws some light on the common use of me in Shakespeare in such cases as 'Heat me these irons hot,' K. John, iv. 1. 1; &c.

31-96. These lines are omitted in the Tanner MS. 346; also in MS. Bodley 638 (which even omits ll. 24-30). In the Fairfax MS. they are added in a much later hand. Consequently, Thynne's edition is here our only satisfactory authority; though the late copy in the Fairfax MS. is worth consulting.

33. Trewely is here three syllables, which is the normal form; cf. Prologue, 761; Kn. Ta. A 1267. In l. 35, the second e is hardly sounded.

36. We must here read 'hold-e,' without elision of final e, which is preserved by the cæsura.

37. 'The most obvious interpretation of these lines seems to be that they contain the confession of a hopeless passion, which has lasted for eight years—a confession which certainly seems to come more appropriately and more naturally from an unmarried than a married man. 'For eight years,'—he says—'I have loved, and loved in vain—and yet my cure is never the nearer. There is but one physician that can heal me—but all that is ended and done with. Let us pass on into fresh fields; what cannot be obtained must needs be left'; Ward, Life of Chaucer, p. 53. Dr. Furnivall supposes that the relentless fair one was the one to whom his Complaint unto Pite was addressed; and chronology would require that Chaucer fell in love with her in 1361. There is no proof that Chaucer was married before 1374, though he may have been married not long after his first passion was 'done.'

43. 'It is good to regard our first subject'; and therefore to return to it. This first subject was his sleeplessness.

45. Til now late follows I sat upryght, as regards construction. The reading Now of late, in some printed editions, is no better.

48. This 'Romaunce' turns out to have been a copy of Ovid's Metamorphoses, a book of which Chaucer was so fond that he calls it his 'own book'; Ho. of Fame, 712. Probably he really had a copy of his own, as he constantly quotes it. Private libraries were very small indeed.

49. Dryve away, pass away; the usual phrase. Cf. 'And dryuen forth the longe day'; P. Plowman, B. prol. 224.

56. 'As long as men should love the law of nature,' i. e. should continue to be swayed by the natural promptings of passion; in other words, for ever. Certainly, Ovid's book has lasted well. In l. 57, such thinges means 'such love-stories.' [464]

62. 'Alcyone, or Halcyone: A daughter of Æolus and Enarete or Ægiale. She was married to Ceyx, and lived so happy with him, that they were presumptuous enough to call each other Zeus and Hera, for which Zeus metamorphosed them into birds, alkuōn (a king-fisher) and kēūks (a greedy sea-bird, Liddell and Scott; a kind of sea-gull; Apollod. i. 7. § 3, &c.; Hygin. Fab. 65). Hyginus relates that Ceyx perished in a shipwreck, that Alcyone for grief threw herself into the sea, and that the gods, out of compassion, changed the two into birds. It was fabled that, during the seven days before, and as many after the shortest day of the year, while the bird alkuōn was breeding, there always prevailed calms at sea. An embellished form of the story is given by Ovid, Met. xi. 410, &c.; compare Virgil, Georg. i. 399.'—Smith's Dictionary. Hence the expression 'halcyon days'; see Holland's Pliny, b. x. c. 32, quoted in my Etym. Dict. s. v. Halcyon.

M. Sandras asserts that the history of Ceyx and Alcyone is borrowed from the Dit de la Fontaine Amoureuse, by Machault, whereas it is evident that Chaucer took care to consult his favourite Ovid, though he also copied several expressions from Machault's poem. Consult Max Lange, as well as Furnivall's Trial Forewords to Chaucer's Minor Poems, p. 43. Surely, Chaucer himself may be permitted to know; his description of the book, viz. in ll. 57-59, applies to Ovid, rather than to Machault's Poems. But the fact is that we have further evidence; Chaucer himself, elsewhere, plainly names Ovid as his authority. See Cant. Tales, Group B, l. 53 (as printed in vol. v.), where he says—

It is true that Chaucer here mentions Ovid's Heroides rather than the Metamorphoses; but that is only because he goes on to speak of other stories, which he took from the Heroides; see the whole context. It is plain that he wishes us to know that he took the present story chiefly from Ovid; yet there are some expressions which he owes to Machault, as will be shown below. It is worth notice, that the whole story is also in Gower's Confessio Amantis, bk. iv. (ed. Pauli, ii. 100); where it is plainly copied from Ovid throughout.

Ten Brink (Studien, p. 10) points out one very clear indication of Chaucer's having consulted Ovid. In l. 68, he uses the expression to tellen shortly, and then proceeds to allude to the shipwreck of Ceyx, which is told in Ovid at great length (Met. xi. 472-572). Of this shipwreck Machault says never a word; he merely says that Ceyx died in the sea.

There is a chapter De Alcione in Vincent of Beauvais, Speculum Naturale, bk. xvi. c. 26; made up from Ambrosius, Aristotle, Pliny (bk. 10), and the Liber de Natura Rerum. [465]

66. Instead of quoting Ovid, I shall quote from Golding's translation of his Metamorphoses, as being more interesting to the English reader. (The whole story is also told by Dryden, whose version is easily accessible.) As the tale is told at great length, I quote only a few of the lines that most closely correspond to Chaucer. Compare—

80. Of the restoration of this line, I should have had some reason to be proud; but I find that Ten Brink (who seems to miss nothing) has anticipated me; see his Chaucers Sprache, §§ 48, 329. We have here, as our guides, only the edition of Thynne (1532), and the late insertion in MS. Fairfax 16. Both of these read—'Anon her herte began to yerne'; whereas it of course ought to be—'Anon her herte gan to erme.' The substitution of began for gan arose from forgetting that herte (A.S. heorte) is dissyllabic in Chaucer, in countless places. The substitution of yerne for erme arose from the fact that the old word ermen, to grieve, was supplanted by earn, to desire, to grieve, in the sixteenth century, and afterwards by the form yearn. This I have already shewn at such length in my note to the Pardoner's Prologue (Cant. Ta. C. 312), in my edition of the Man of Lawes Tale, pp. 39, 142, and yet again in my Etym. Dict., s. v. Yearn (2), that it is needless to repeat it all over again. Chaucer was quite incapable of such a mere assonance as that of terme with yerne; in fact, it is precisely the word terme that is rimed with erme in his Pardoner's Prologue. Mr. Cromie's index shews that, in the Cant. Tales, the rime erme, terme, occurs only once, and there is no third word riming with either. There is, however, a rime of conferme with ferme, Troil. ii. 1525, and with afferme in the same, 1588. There is, in Chaucer, no sixth riming word in -erme at all, and none in either -irme or -yrme. [466]

Both in the present passage and in the Pardoner's Prologue the verb to erme is used with the same sb., viz. herte; which clinches the matter. By way of example, compare 'The bysschop weop for 'ermyng'; King Alisaunder, ed. Weber, l. 1525.

86, 87. L. 86 is too short. In l. 87 I delete alas after him, which makes the line a whole foot too long, and is not required. Koch ingeniously suggests, for l. 86: 'That hadde, alas! this noble wyf.' This transference of alas mends both lines at once.

93. Avowe is all one word, though its component parts were often written apart. Thus, in P. Plowman, B. v. 457, we find And made avowe, where the other texts have a-vou, a-vowe; see Avow in the New E. Dict. See my note to Cant. Tales, Group C, 695.

97. Here the gap in the MSS. ceases, and we again have their authority for the text. For Had we should, perhaps, read Hadde.

106. This phrase is not uncommon. 'And on knes she sat adoun'; Lay le Freine, l. 159; in Weber's Met. Romances, i. 363. Cf. 'This Troilus ful sone on knees him sette'; Troilus, iii. 953.

107. Weep (not wepte) is Chaucer's word; see Cant. Tales, B 606, 1052, 3852, E 545, F 496, G 371.

126. 'And she, exhausted with weeping and watching.' Gower (Confes. Amantis, ed. Pauli, i. 160) speaks of a ship that is forstormed and forblowe, i. e. excessively driven about by storm and wind.

130. Or read: 'That madë her to slepe sone'; without elision of e in made (Koch).

136. Go bet, go quickly, hasten, lit. go better, i. e. faster. See note to Group C, 667. Cf. Go now faste, l. 152.

Morpheus is dissyllabic, i. e. Morph'ús; cf. Mórph'us in l. 167. I here add another illustration from Golding's Ovid, fol. 139:—

154. His wey. Chaucer substitutes a male messenger for Iris; see ll. 134, 155, 180-2.

It is worth notice that the visit of Iris to Somnus is also fully described by Statius, Theb. x. 81-136; but Chaucer does not seem to have copied him.

158, 159. Two bad lines in the MSS. Both can be mended by changing nought into nothing, as suggested by Ten Brink, Chaucers Sprache, § 299.

160. See a very similar passage in Spenser, F. Q. i. 1. 39, 40, 41, 42, 43. And cf. Ho. of Fame, 70.

167. Eclympasteyre. 'I hold this to be a name of Chaucer's own invention. In Ovid occurs a son of Morpheus who has two different names: "Hunc Icelon superi, mortale Phobetora vulgus Nominat;" Met. xi. 640. Phobetora may have been altered into Pastora: Icelonpastora (the two names linked together) would give Eclympasteyre.'—Ten Brink, Studien, p. 11, as quoted in Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 116. At any rate, we may feel sure that Eclym- is precisely Ovid's Icelon. And perhaps Phobetora comes nearer to -pasteyre than does Phantasos, the name of another son of Morpheus, whom Ovid mentions immediately below. Gower (ed. Pauli, ii. 103) calls them Ithecus and Panthasas; and the fact that he here actually turns Icelon into Ithecus is a striking example of the strange corruption of proper names in medieval times. Prof. Hales suggests that Eclympasteyre represents Icelon plastora, where plastora is the acc. of Gk. πλαστώρ, i. e. moulder or modeller, a suitable epithet for a god of dreams; compare the expressions used by Ovid in ll. 626 and 634 of this passage. Icelon is the acc. of Gk. ἴκελος, or εἴκελος, like, resembling. For my own part, I would rather take the form plastera, acc. of πλαστήρ, a form actually given by Liddell and Scott, and also nearer to the form in Chaucer. Perhaps Chaucer had seen a MS. of Ovid in which Icelon was explained by plastora or plastera, written beside or over it as a gloss, or by way of explanation. This would explain the whole matter. Mr. Fleay thinks the original reading was Morpheus, Ecelon, Phantastere; but this is impossible, because Morpheus had but one heir (l. 168).

Froissart has the word Enclimpostair as the name of a son of the god of sleep, in his poem called Paradis d'Amour. But as he is merely copying this precise passage, it does not at all help us.

For the remarks by Prof. Hales, see the Athenæum, 1882, i. 444; for those by Mr. Fleay, see the same, p. 568. Other suggestions have been made, but are not worth recording.

173. To envye; to be read as Tenvý-e. The phrase is merely an adaptation of the F. à l'envi, or of the vb. envier. Cotgrave gives: 'à l'envy l'vn de l'autre, one to despight the other, or in emulation one of the other'; also 'envier (au ieu), to vie.' Hence E. vie; see Vie in my Etym. Dict. It is etymologically connected with Lat. inuitare, not with Lat. inuidia. See l. 406, below.

184. Oon ye, one eye. This is from Machault, who has: 'ouvri l'un de ses yeux.' Ovid has the pl. oculos.

185. Cast is the pp., as pointed out by Ten Brink, who corrects the line; Chaucers Sprache, § 320.

192. Abrayd, and not abrayde, is the right form; for it is a strong verb (A. S. ábregdan, pt. t. ábrægd). So also in the Ho. of Fame, 110 However, brayde (as if weak) also occurs; Ho. of Fame, 1678.

195. Dreynt-e is here used as an adj., with the weak declension in -e. So also in Cant. Tales, B 69. Cf. also Ho. of Fame, 1783.

206. The word look must be supplied. MS. B. even omits herte; which would give—'But good-e swet-e, [look] that ye'; where good-e and swet-e are vocatives.

213. I adopt Ten Brink's suggestion (Chaucers Sprache, § 300), viz. to change allas into A. Lange omits quod she; but see l. 215.

219. Whérfor seems to be accented on the former syllable. MS. B. inserts you after told; perhaps it is not wanted. If it is, it had better come before told rather than after it.

222. I had be, I should have been. Deed and dolven, dead and buried; as in Cursor Mundi, 5494. Chaucer's dolven and deed is odd.

244. I ne roghte who, to be read In' roght-e who; i. e. I should not care who; see note to Compl. to Pite, 105. Roghte is subjunctive.

248. The readings are here onwarde, Th. F.; here onward, Tn.; here on warde, B. I do not think here onward can be meant, nor yet hereon-ward; I know of no examples of such meaningless expressions. I read here on warde, and explain it: 'I will give him the very best gift that he ever expected (to get) in his life; and (I will give it) here, in his custody, even now, as soon as possible,' &c. Ward = custody, occurs in the dat. warde in William of Palerne, 376—'How that child from here warde was went for evermore.'

250. Here Chaucer again takes a hint from Machault's Dit de la Fontaine, where we find the poet promising the god a hat and a soft bed of gerfalcon's feathers. See Ten Brink, Studien, p. 204.

255. Reynes, i. e. Rennes, in Brittany; spelt Raynes in the Paston Letters, ed. Gairdner, iii. 358. Linen is still made there; and by 'clothe of Reynes' some kind of linen, rather than of woollen cloth, is meant. It is here to be used for pillow-cases. It was also used for sheets. 'Your shetes shall be of clothe of Rayne'; Squyr of Lowe [470]Degre, l. 842 (in Ritson, Met. Rom. iii. 180). 'A peyre schetes of Reynes, with the heued shete [head-sheet] of the same'; Earliest Eng. Wills, ed. Furnivall, p. 4, l. 16. 'A towaile of Raynes'; Babees Book, p. 130, l. 213; and see note on p. 208 of the same. 'It [the head-sheet] was more frequently made of the fine white linen of Reynes'; Our Eng. Home, p. 109. 'Hede-shetes of Rennes' are noticed among the effects of Hen. V; see Rot. Parl. iv. p. 228; footnote on the same page. Skelton mentions rochets 'of fyne Raynes'; Colin Clout, 316. The mention of this feather-bed may have been suggested to Machault by Ovid's line about the couch of Morpheus (Metam. xi. 611)—'Plumeus, unicolor, pullo velamine tectus.'

282. The modern construction is—'The dream of King Pharaoh.' See this idiom explained in my note to the Prioresses Tale, Group F, l. 209. Cf. Gen. xli. 25.

284. As to Macrobius, see note to the Parl. of Foules, 31. And cf. Ho. of Fame, 513-7. We must never forget how frequent are Chaucer's imitations of Le Roman de la Rose. Here, for example, he is thinking of ll. 7-10 of that poem:—

After Macrobeus understand coude (from l. 283), which governs the infin. arede in l. 289.

286. Métt-e occupies the second foot in the line. Koch proposes him for he; but it is needless; see Cant. Tales, B 3930. In l. 288, read fortúned.

288. This line, found in Thynne only, is perhaps not genuine, but interpolated. Perhaps Whiche is better than Swiche.

304. Chaucer uses som as a singular in such cases as the present. A clear case occurs in 'Som in his bed'; Kn. Tale, 2173. (C. T. A 3031.) Hence song is the sing. verb.

310. Tewnes, Tunis; vaguely put for some distant and wealthy town; see ll. 1061-4, below. Its name was probably suggested by the preceding word entunes, which required a rime. Gower mentions Kaire (Cairo) just as vaguely:—

The sense is—'that certainly, even to gain Tunis, I would not have (done other) than heard them sing.' Lange thinks these lines corrupt; but I believe the idiom is correct.

323. As stained glass windows were then rare and expensive, it is worth while observing that these gorgeous windows were not real ones, but only seen in a dream. This passage is imitated in the late poem called the Court of Love, st. 33, where we are told that 'The temple shone with windows al of glasse,' and that in the glass were portrayed the stories of Dido and Annelida. These windows, it may be observed, were equally imaginary.

328. The caesural pause comes after Ector, which might allow the intrusion of the word of before king. But Mr. Sweet omits of, and I follow him. The words of king are again inserted before Lamedon in l. 329, being caught from l. 328 above.

Lamedon is Laomedon, father of King Priam of Troy. Ector is Chaucer's spelling of Hector; Man of Lawes Tale, B 198. He here cites the usual examples of love-stories, such as those of Medea and Jason, and Paris and Helen. Lavyne is Lavinia, the second wife of Æneas; Vergil, Æn. bk. vii; Rom. Rose, 21087; cf. Ho. of Fame, 458. Observe his pronunciation of Médea, as in Ho. of Fame, 401; Cant. Ta., B 72.

332. 'There is reason to believe that Chaucer copied these imageries from the romance of Guigemar, one of the Lays of Marie de France; in which the walls of a chamber are painted with Venus and the Art of Love from Ovid. Perhaps Chaucer might not look further than the temples of Boccaccio's Theseid for these ornaments'; Warton, Hist. E. Poetry, 1871, iii. 63. Cf. Rom. of the Rose, ll. 139-146; see p. 99.

333. Bothe text and glose, i. e. both in the principal panels and in the margin. He likens the walls to the page of a book, in which the glose, or commentary, was often written in the margin. Mr. Sweet inserts with before text, and changes And into Of in the next line; I do not think the former change is necessary, but I adopt the latter.

334. It had all sorts of scenes from the Romance of the Rose on it. Chaucer again mentions this Romance by name in his Merchant's Tale; C. T., E 2032; and he tells us that he himself translated it; Prol. to Legend, 329. The celebrated Roman de la Rose was begun by Guillaume de Lorris, who wrote ll. 1-4070, and completed about forty years afterwards (in a very different and much more satirical style) by Jean de Meung (or Meun), surnamed (like his father) Clopinel, i. e. the Cripple, who wrote ll. 4071-22074; it was finished about the year 1305. The story is that of a young man who succeeded in plucking a rose in a walled garden, after overcoming extraordinary difficulties; allegorically, it means that he succeeded in obtaining the object of his love. See further above, pp. 16-19.

The E. version is invariably called the Romaunt of the Rose, and we find the title Rommant de la Rose in the original, l. 20082; cf. our romant-ic. But Burguy explains that romant is a false form, due to confusion with words rightly ending in -ant. The right O. F. form is [472]romans, originally an adverb; from the phrase parler romans, i. e. loqui Romanice. In the Six-text edition of the Cant. Tales, E 2032, four MSS. have romance, one has romans, and one romauns.

For examples of walls or ceilings being painted with various subjects, see Warton's Hist. of E. Poetry, ed. Hazlitt, ii. 131, 275; iii. 63.

340. The first accent is on Blew, not on bright. Cf. Rom. de la Rose, 124, 125 (see p. 98, above):—

343. Ne in is to be read as Nin; we find it written nin in the Squieres Tale, F 35. See l. 694.

348. The line, as it stands in the authorities, viz. 'And I herde goyng, bothe vp and doune'—cannot be right. Mr. Sweet omits bothe, which throws the accent upon I, and reduces herde to herd' (unaccented!). To remedy this, I also omit And. Perhaps speke (better speken) is an infinitive in l. 350, but it may also be the pt. t. plural (A. S. sprǽcon); and it is more convenient to take it so.

M. Sandras points out some very slight resemblances between this passage and some lines in a French poem in the Collection Mouchet, vol. ii. fol. 106; see the passage cited in Furnivall's Trial Forewords to the Minor Poems, p. 51. Most likely Chaucer wrote independently of this French poem, as even M. Sandras seems inclined to admit.

353. Embosed, embossed. This is a technical term, used in various senses, for which see the New Eng. Dict. Here it means 'so far plunged into the thicket'; from O. F. bos (F. bois), a wood. In later authors, it came to mean 'driven to extremity, like a hunted animal'; then 'exhausted by running,' and lastly, 'foaming at the mouth,' as a result of exhaustion.

A lymere was a dog held in a liam, lime, or leash, to be let loose when required; from O.F. liem (F. lien, Lat. ligamen), a leash. In the Book of St. Alban's, fol. e 4, we are told that the beasts which should be 'reride with the lymer,' i. e. roused and pursued by the dog so called, are 'the hert and the bucke and the boore.'

368. 'The emperor Octovien' is the emperor seen by Chaucer in his dream. In l. 1314, he is called this king, by whom Edward III. is plainly intended. He was 'a favourite character of Carolingian legend, [473]and pleasantly revived under this aspect by the modern romanticist Ludwig Tieck—probably [here] a flattering allegory for the King'; Ward's Life of Chaucer, p. 69. The English romance of Octouian Imperator is to be found in Weber's Metrical Romances, iii. 157; it extends to 1962 lines. He was an emperor of Rome, and married Floraunce, daughter of Dagabers [Dagobert], king of France. The adventures of Floraunce somewhat resemble those of Constance in the Man of Lawes Tale. 'The Romance of the Emperor Octavian' was also edited by Halliwell for the Percy Society, in 1844. The name originally referred to the emperor Augustus.

370. The exclamation 'A goddes halfe' was pronounced like 'A god's half'; see l. 758. See note to l. 544.

375. Fot-hoot, foot-hot, immediately; see my note to Man of Lawes Tale, B 438.

376. Moot, notes upon a horn, here used as a plural. See Glossary. 'How shall we blowe whan ye han sen the hert? I shal blowe after one mote, ij motes [i. e. 3 motes in all]; and if myn howndes come not hastily to me as I wolde, I shall blowe iiij. motes'; Venery de Twety, in Reliquiæ Antiquæ, i. 152.

Cf. a passage in the Chace du Cerf, quoted from the Collection Mouchet, i. 166, in Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 51 (though Chaucer probably wrote his account quite independently of it):—

379. Rechased, headed back. Men were posted at certain places, to keep the hart within certain bounds. See next note.

386. A forloyn, a recall (as I suppose; for it was blown when the hounds were all a long way off their object of pursuit). It is thus explained in the Book of St. Alban's, fol. f I:—

The 'chace of the forloyne' is explained (very obscurely) in the [474]Venery de Twety; see Reliquiæ Antiquæ, i. 152. But the following passage from the same gives some light upon rechased: 'Another chace ther is whan a man hath set up archerys and greyhoundes, and the best be founde, and passe out the boundys, and myne houndes after; then shall y blowe on this maner a mote, and aftirward the rechace upon my houndys that be past the boundys.'

387. Go, gone. The sense is—'I had gone (away having) walked from my tree.' The idiom is curious. My tree, the tree at which I had been posted. Chaucer dreamt that he was one of the men posted to watch which way the hart went, and to keep the bounds.

396. The final e in fled-de is not elided, owing to the pause after it. See note to l. 685.

398. Wente, path. Chaucer often rimes words that are pronounced alike, if their meanings be different. See ll. 439, 440; and cf. ll. 627-630. The very same pair of rimes occurs again in the Ho. of Fame, 181, 182; and in Troil. ii. 62, 813; iii. 785, v. 603, 1192.

402. Read—For both-e Flor-a, &c. The -a in Flora comes at the cæsural pause; cf. ll. 413, 414. Once more, this is from Le Roman de la Rose, ll. 8449-51:—

408. 'To have more flowers than the heaven (has stars, so as even to rival) seven such planets as there are in the sky.' Rather involved, and probably all suggested by the necessity for a rime to heven. See l. 824. Moreover, it is copied from Le Roman de la Rose, 8465-8:—

Chaucer has treated a toise as if it were equal to two feet; it was really about six. In his own translation of the Romaunt, l. 1393, he translates toise by fadome. See p. 151 (above).

429. According to the Book of St. Albans, fol. e 4, the buck was called a fawne in his first year, a preket in the second, a sowrell in the third, a sowre in the fourth, a bucke of the fyrst hede in the fifth, and a bucke (simply) in the sixth year. Also a roo is the female of the roobucke.

435. Argus is put for Algus, the old French name for the inventor of the Arabic numerals; it occurs in l. 16373 of the Roman de la Rose, which mentions him in company with Euclid and Ptolemy—

This name Algus was evolved out of the O.F. algorisme, which, as Dr. Murray says, is a French adaptation 'from the Arab. al-Khowārazmī, the native of Khwārazm (Khiva), surname of the Arab mathematician Abu Ja'far Mohammed Ben Musa, who flourished early in the 9th century, and through the translation of whose work on Algebra, the Arabic numerals became generally known in Europe. Cf. Euclid = plane geometry.' He was truly 'a noble countour,' to whom we all owe a debt of gratitude. That Algus was sometimes called Argus, also appears from the Roman de la Rose, ll. 12994, &c., which is clearly the very passage which Chaucer here copies:—

Here o means 'with'; so that Chaucer has copied the very phrase 'with his figures ten.' But still more curiously, Jean de Meun here rimes nombre, pres. sing. indic., with nombre, sb.; and Chaucer rimes noumbre, infin., with noumbre, sb. likewise. Countour in l. 435 means 'arithmetician'; in the next line it means an abacus or counting-board, for assisting arithmetical operations.

437. His figures ten; the ten Arabic numerals, i. e. from 1 to 9, and the cipher 0.

438. Al ken, all kin, i. e. mankind, all men. This substitution of ken for kin (A.S. cyn) seems to have been due to the exigencies of rime, as Chaucer uses kin elsewhere. However, Gower has the same form—'And of what ken that she was come'; Conf. Am. b. viii; ed. Pauli, iii. 332. So also in Will. of Palerne, 722—'Miself knowe ich nouȝt mi ken'; and five times at least in the Ayenbite of Inwyt, as it is a Kentish form. It was, doubtless, a permissible variant. [476]

445. A man in blak; John of Gaunt, in mourning for the loss of his wife Blaunche. Imitated by Lydgate, in his Complaint of the Black Knight, l. 130, and by Spenser, in his Daphnaida:—

455. John of Gaunt, born in June, 1340, was 29 years old in 1369. I do not know why a poet is never to make a mistake; nor why critics should lay down such a singular law. But if we are to lay the error on the scribes, Mr. Brock's suggestion is excellent. He remarks that nine and twenty was usually written xxviiij.; and if the v were omitted, it would appear as .xxiiij., i. e. four and twenty. The existing MSS. write 'foure and twenty' at length; but such is not the usual practice of earlier scribes. It may also be added that .xxiiij. was at that time always read as four and twenty, never as twenty-four; so that no ambiguity could arise as to the mode of reading it. See Richard the Redeless, iii. 260.

There is a precisely similiar confusion in Cant. Ta. Group B, l. 5, where eightetethe is denoted by 'xviijthe' in the Hengwrt MS., whilst the Harl. MS. omits the v, and reads threttenthe, and again the Ellesmere MS. inserts an x, and gives us eighte and twentithe. The presumption is, that Chaucer knew his patron's age, and that we ought to read nine for four; but even if he inadvertently wrote four, there is no crime in it.

475. The knight's lay falls into two stanzas, one of five, and one of six lines, as marked. In order to make them more alike, Thynne inserted an additional line—And thus in sorowe lefte me alone—after l. 479. This additional line is numbered 480 in the editions; so I omit l. 480 in the numbering. The line is probably spurious. It is not grammatical; grammar would require that has (not is, as in l. 479) should be understood before the pp. left; or if we take left-e as a past tense, then the line will not scan. But it is also unmetrical, as the arrangement of lines should be the same as in ll. 481-6, if the two stanzas are to be made alike. Chaucer says the lay consisted of 'ten verses or twelve' in l. 463, which is a sufficiently close description of a lay of eleven lines. Had he said twelve without any mention of ten, the case would have been different.

479. Lange proposes: 'Is deed, and is fro me agoon.' F. Tn. Th. agree as to the reading given; I see nothing against it.

481. If we must needs complete the line, we must read 'Allas! o deth!' inserting o; or 'Allas! the deth,' inserting the. The latter is proposed by Ten Brink, Sprache, &c. § 346.

490. Pure, very; cf. 'pure fettres,' Kn. Tale, A 1279. And see l. 583, below. [477]

491. Cf. 'Why does my blood thus muster to my heart?' Meas. for Meas. ii. 4. 20.

501. The MSS. have seet, sat, a false form for sat (A.S. sæt); due to the plural form seet-e or sēt-e (A.S. sǽt-on). We certainly find seet for sat in the Kn. Tale, A 2075. Read sete, as the pt. t. subj. (A.S. sǣte); and fete as dative pl. form, as in Cant. Ta. B 1104.

544. By our Lord, to be read as by'r Lord. Cf. by'r lakin, Temp. iii. 3. 1. So again, in ll. 651, 690, 1042.

550. Wis, certainly: 'As certainly (as I hope that) God may help me.' So in Nonne Prestes Tale, 587 (B 4598); and cf. Kn. Tale, 1928 (B 2786); Squ. Ta. F 469, &c. And see l. 683, below.

Compare this passage with the long dialogue between Troilus and Pandarus, in the latter part of the first book of Troilus.

568. Alluding to Ovid's Remedia Amoris. Accent remédies on the second syllable.

569. The story of Orpheus is in Ovid's Metamorphoses, bk. x. The allusion is to the harp of Orpheus, at the sound of which the tortured had rest. Cf. Ho. of Fame, 1202:—

570. Cf. Ho. of Fame, 919; Rom. Rose, 21633. Dædalus represents the mechanician. No mechanical contrivances can help the mourner.

582. 'For all good fortune and I are foes,' lit. angry (with each other). Hence wroth-e is a plural form.

589. S and C were so constantly interchanged before e that Sesiphus could be written Cesiphus; and C and T were so often mistaken that Cesiphus easily became Tesiphus, the form in the Tanner MS. Further, initial T was sometimes replaced by Th; and this would give the Thesiphus of MS. F.

Sesiphus, i. e. Sisyphus, is of course intended; it was in the author's mind in connection with the story of Orpheus just above; see note to l. 569. In the Roman de la Rose, we have the usual allusions to Yxion [478](l. 19479), Tentalus, i. e. Tantalus (l. 19482), Ticius, i. e. Tityus (l. 19506), and Sisifus (l. 19499).

But whilst I thus hold that Chaucer probably wrote Sesiphus, I have no doubt that he really meant Tityus, as is shewn by the expression lyth, i. e. lies extended. See Troil. i. 786, where Bell's edition has Siciphus, but the Campsall MS. has Ticyus; whilst in ed. 1532 we find Tesiphus.

599. With this string of contrarieties compare the Eng. version of the Roman de la Rose, 4706-4753. See p. 212, above.

Jean de Meun goes on to say that Charles of Anjou killed Manfred, king of Sicily, in the first battle with him [A.D. 1266]—

He next speaks of Conradin, whose death was likewise caused by Charles in 1268, so that these two (Manfred and Conradin) lost all their pieces at chess—

630. The MSS. and Thynne have floures, flourys. This gives no sense; we must therefore read flour is. For a similar rime see that of [479]nones, noon is, in the Prologue, 523, 524. Strictly, grammar requires ben rather than is; but when two nominatives express much the same sense, the singular verb may be used, as in Lenvoy to Bukton, 6. The sense is—'her chief glory and her prime vigour is (i. e. consists in) lying.'

634. The parallel passage is one in the Remède de Fortune, by G. de Machault:—

See Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 47; and compare the remarkable and elaborate description of Fortune in the Anticlaudian of Alanus de Insulis (Distinctio 8, cap. I), in Wright's Anglo-Latin Satirists, vol. ii. pp. 399, 400.

Compare also Man of Lawes Tale, B 361, 404. 'The scorpiun is ones cunnes wurm thet haueth neb, ase me seith, sumdel iliche ase wummon, and is neddre bihinden; maketh feir semblaunt and fiketh mit te heaued, and stingeth mid te teile'; Ancren Riwle, p. 206. Vincent of Beauvais, in his Speculum Naturale, bk. xx. c. 160, quotes from the Liber de Naturis Rerum—'Scorpio blandum et quasi virgineum dicitur vultum habere, sed habet in cauda nodosa venenatum aculeum, quo pungit et inficit proximantem.'

653. Draught is a move at chess; see ll. 682, 685. Thus in Caxton's Game of the Chesse—'the alphyn [bishop] goeth in vj. draughtes al the tablier [board] rounde about.' So in The Tale of Beryn, 1779, 1812. It translates the F. trait; see note to l. 618 (second quotation).

654. 'Fers, the piece at chess next to the king, which we and other European nations call the queen; though very improperly, as Hyde has observed. Pherz, or Pherzan, which is the Persian name for the same piece, signifies the King's Chief Counsellor, or General—Hist. [480]Shahilud. [shahi-ludii, chess-play], pp. 88, 89.'—Tyrwhitt's Glossary. Chaucer follows Rom. Rose, where the word appears as fierge, l. 6688, and fierche, l. 6735; see note to l. 618 above. (For another use of fers, see note to l. 723 below.) Godefroy gives the O. F. spellings fierce, fierche, fierge, firge, and quotes two lines, which give the O. F. names of all the pieces at chess:—

Caxton calls them kyng, quene, alphyn, knyght, rook, pawn. Richardson's Pers. Dict. p. 1080, gives the Pers. name of the queen as farzī or farzīn, and explains farsīn by 'the queen at chess, a learned man'; compare Tyrwhitt's remark above. In fact, the orig. Skt. name for this piece was mantrí, i. e. the adviser or counsellor. He also gives the Pers. farz, learned; farz or firz, the queen at chess. I suppose it is a mere chance that the somewhat similar Arab. faras means 'a horse, and the knight at chess'; Richardson (as above). Oddly enough, the latter word has also some connection with Chaucer, as it is the Arabic name of the 'wedge' of an astrolabe; see Chaucer's Astrolabe, Part i. § 14 (footnote), in vol. iii.

655. When a chess-player, by an oversight, loses his queen for nothing, he may, in general, as well as give up the game. Beryn was 'in hevy plyghte,' when he only lost a rook for nothing; Tale of Beryn, 1812.

660. The word the before mid must of course be omitted. The lines are to be scanned thus:—

The rime is a feminine one. Lines 660 and 661 are copied from the Rom. Rose; see note to l. 618, above. To be checkmated by an 'errant' pawn in the very middle of the board is a most ignominious way of losing the game. Cf. check-mate in Troil. ii. 754.

663. Athalus; see note to l. 618, above. Jean de Meun follows John of Salisbury (bishop of Chartres, died 1180) in attributing the invention of chess to Attalus. 'Attalus Asiaticus, si Gentilium creditur historiis, hanc ludendi lasciuiam dicitur inuenisse ab exercitio numerorum, paululum deflexa materia;' Joan. Saresburiensis Policraticus, lib. i. c. 5. Warton (Hist. E. Poet. 1871, iii. 91) says the person meant is Attalus Philometor, king of Pergamus; who is mentioned by Pliny, Nat. Hist. xviii. 3, xxviii. 2. It is needless to explain here how chess was developed out of the old Indian game for four persons called chaturanga, i. e. consisting of four members or parts (Benfey's Skt. Dict. p. 6). I must refer the reader to Forbes's History of Chess, or the article on Chess in the English Cyclopædia. See also the E. version of the Gesta Romanorum, ed. Herrtage, p. 70; A. Neckam, De Naturis Rerum, ed. Wright, p. 324; and Sir F. Madden's article in the Archæologia, xxiv. 203. [481]

666. Ieupardyes, hazards, critical positions, problems; see note on Cant. Tales, Group G, 743.

667. Pithagores, put for Pythagoras; for the rime. Pythagoras of Samos, born about B.C. 570, considered that all things were founded upon numerical relations; various discoveries in mathematics, music, and astronomy, were attributed to him.

682. 'I would have made the same move'; i. e. had I had the power, I would have taken her fers from her, just as she took mine.

684. She, i. e. Fortune; so in Thynne. The MSS. have He, i. e. God, which can hardly be meant.

685. The cæsural pause preserves e in draughte from elision. It rimes with caughte (l. 682). Similar examples of 'hiatus' are not common: Ten Brink (Sprache, § 270) instances Cant. Tales, Group C, 599, 772 (Pard. Tale).

700. 'There lies in reckoning (i. e. is debited to me in the account), as regards sorrow, for no amount at all.' In his account with Sorrow he is owed nothing, having received payment in full. There is no real difficulty here.

705. 'I have nothing'; for (1) Sorrow has paid in full, and so owes me nothing; (2) I have no gladness left; (3) I have lost my true wealth; (4) and I have no pleasure.

709. Tantale, Tantalus. He has already referred to Sisyphus; see note to l. 589. In the Roman de la Rose, we find Yxion, l. 19479; Tentalus, l. 19482; and Sisifus, l. 19499; as I have already remarked.

723. By the ferses twelve I understand all the pieces except the king, which could not be taken. The guess in Bell's Chaucer says 'all the pieces except the pawns'; but as a player only has seven pieces beside the pawns and king, we must then say that the knight exaggerates. My own reckoning is thus: pawns, eight; queen, bishop, rook, knight, four; total, twelve. The fact that each player has two of three of these, viz. of the bishop, rook, and knight, arose from the conversion of chaturaṅga, in which each of four persons had a king, bishop, knight, rook [to keep to modern names] and four pawns, into chess, in which each of two persons had two kings (afterwards king and queen), two bishops, knights, and rooks, and eight pawns. The bishop, knight, and rook, were thus duplicated, and so count but one apiece, which [482]makes three (sorts of) pieces; and the queen is a fourth, for the king cannot be taken. The case of the pawns was different, for each pawn had an individuality of its own, no two being made alike (except in inferior sets). Caxton's Game of the Chesse shews this clearly; he describes each of the eight pawns separately, and gives a different figure to each. According to him, the pawns were (beginning from the King's Rook's Pawn) the Labourer, Smyth, Clerke (or Notary), Marchaunt, Physicien, Tauerner, Garde, and Ribauld. They denoted 'all sorts and conditions of men'; and this is why our common saying of 'tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, gentleman, apothecary, ploughboy, thief' enumerates eight conditions^[288].

As the word fers originally meant counsellor or monitor of the king, it could be applied to any of the pieces. There was a special reason for its application to each of the pawns; for a pawn, on arriving at its last square, could not be exchanged (as now) for any piece at pleasure, but only for a queen, i. e. the fers par excellence. For, as Caxton says again, 'he [the pawn] may not goo on neyther side till he hath been in the fardest ligne of theschequer, & that he hath taken the nature of the draughtes of the quene, & than he is a fiers, and than may he goo on al sides cornerwyse fro poynt to poynt onely as the quene'; &c.

726. These stock examples all come together in the Rom. de la Rose; viz. Jason and Medee, at l. 13433; Philis and Demophon, at l. 13415; 'Dido, roine de Cartage,' at l. 13379. The story of Echo and Narcissus is told fully, in an earlier passage (see ll. 1469-1545 of the English version, at p. 154); also that of 'Dalida' and 'Sanson' in a later passage, at l. 16879. See also the Legends of Dido, Medea, and Phillis in the Legend of Good Women; and the story of Sampson in the Monkes Tale, B 3205:—

779. M. Sandras points out the resemblance to a passage in G. de Machault's Remède de Fortune:—

The rime of table and able settles the point. Mr. Brock points out a parallel passage in Boethius, which Chaucer thus translates:—'the soule hadde ben naked of it-self, as a mirour or a clene parchemin.... Right as we ben wont som tyme by a swifte pointel to ficchen lettres emprented in the smothenesse or in the pleinnesse of the table of wex, [483]or in parchemin that ne hath no figure ne note in it'; bk. v. met. 4. But I doubt if Chaucer knew much of Boethius in 1369; and in the present passage he clearly refers to a prepared white surface, not to a tablet of wax. 'Youth and white paper take any impression'; Ray's Proverbs.

791. An allusion to the old proverb which is given in Hending in the form—'Whose yong lerneth, olt [old] he ne leseth'; Hending's Prov. l. 45. Kemble gives the medieval Latin—'Quod puer adsuescit, leviter dimittere nescit'; Gartner, Dicteria, p. 24 b. Cf. Horace, Epist. i. 2. 69; also Rom. de la Rose, 13094.

These are, no doubt, the lines to which Tyrwhitt refers in his remarks on the present passage in a note to the last paragraph of the Persones Tale. Observe also how closely the fifth line of the latter passage answers to l. 812.

823. Is, which is; as usual. I propose this reading. That of the MSS. is very bad, viz. 'Than any other planete in heven.'

824. 'The seven stars' generally mean the planets; but, as the sun and moon and planets have just been mentioned, the reference may be to the well-known seven stars in Ursa Major commonly called Charles's Wain. In later English, the seven stars sometimes mean the Pleiades; see Pleiade in Cotgrave's French Dictionary, and G. Douglas, ed. Small, i. 69. 23, iii. 147. 15. The phrase is, in fact, ambiguous; see note to P. Plowman, C. xviii. 98.

840. Koch proposes to omit maner, and read—'No counseyl, but at hir loke.' It is more likely that counseyl has slipped in, as a gloss upon reed, and was afterwards substituted for it.

849. Carole, dance round, accompanying the dance with a song. The word occurs in the Rom. de la Rose several times; thus at l. 747, we have:—

Cf. Chaucer's version, ll. 759, 810; also 744. Dante uses the pl. carole (Parad. xxiv. 16) to express swift circular movements; and Cary quotes a comment upon it to the effect that 'carolæ dicuntur tripudium quoddam quod fit saliendo, ut Napolitani faciunt et dicunt.' He also quotes the expression 'grans danses et grans karolles' from Froissart, ed. 1559, vol. i. cap. 219. That it meant singing as well as dancing appears from the Rom. de la Rose, l. 731.

858. Chaucer gives Virginia golden hair; Doct. Tale, C 38. Compare the whole description of the maiden in the E. version of the Rom. of the Rose, ll. 539-561 (p. 116, above).

861. Of good mochel, of an excellent size; mochel = size, occurs in P. Plowman, B. xvi. 182. Scan the line—

919. Imitated from Machault's Remède de Fortune (see Trial Forewords, p. 48):—

943. Canel-boon, collar-bone; lit. channel-bone, i. e. bone with a channel behind it. See Three Metrical Romances (Camden Soc.), p. 19; Gloss. to Babees Book, ed. Furnivall; and the Percy Folio MS., i. 387. I put and for or; the sense requires a conjunction.

948. Here Whyte, representing the lady's name, is plainly a translation of Blaunche. The insertion of whyte in l. 905, in the existing authorities, is surely a blunder, and I therefore have omitted it. It anticipates the climax of the description, besides ruining the scansion of the line. [485]

950. There is here some resemblance to some lines in G. Machault's Remède de Fortune (see Trial Forewords, p. 49):—

958. This reading means—'I knew in her no other defect'; which, as no defect has been mentioned, seems inconsistent. Perhaps we should read no maner lak, i. e. no 'sort of defect in her (to cause) that all her limbs should not be proportionate.'

964. A common illustration. See Rom. de la Rose, 7448; Alexander and Dindimus, ll. 233-5. Duke Francesco Maria had, for one of his badges, a lighted candle by which others are lighted; with the motto Non degener addam, i. e. I will give without loss; see Mrs. Palliser's Historic Devices, p. 263. And cf. Cant. Ta. D 333-5.

973. The accents seem to fall on She and have, the e in wold-e being elided. Otherwise, read: She wóld-e háv' be.

982. Liddell and Scott explain Gk. φοίνιξ as 'the fabulous Egyptian bird phœnix, first in Hesiod, Fragment 50. 4; then in Herodotus, ii. 73.' Vincent of Beauvais, Speculum Naturale, bk. 16. c. 74, refers us to Isidore, Ambrosius (lib. 5), Solinus, Pliny (lib. 10), and Liber de Naturis Rerum; see Solinus, Polyhistor. c. 33. 11; A. Neckam, De Naturis Rerum, c. 34. Philip de Thaun describes it in his Bestiaire, l. 1089; see Popular Treatises on Science, ed. Wright, p. 113. 'The Phœnix of Arabia passes all others. Howbeit, I cannot tell what to make of him; and first of all, whether it be a tale or no, that there is neuer but one of them in all the world, and the same not commonly seen'; Holland, tr. of Pliny, bk. 10. c. 2.

Scan: Th' soléyn | feníx | of A | rabye ||. Cf. 'Com la fenix souleine est au sejour En Arabie': Gower, Balade 35.

987. Chaucer refers to Esther again; e.g. in his Merchant's Tale (E 1371, 1744); Leg. of G. Women, prol. 250; and in the Tale of Melibee (B 2291).

1021. In balaunce, i. e. in a state of suspense. F. en balance; Rom. de la Rose, 13871, 16770.

1024. This sending of lovers on expeditions, by way of proving them, was in accordance with the manners of the time. Gower explains the whole matter, in his Conf. Amant, lib. 4 (ed. Pauli, ii. 56):—

Chaucer's Knight (in the Prologue) sought for renown in Pruce, Alisaundre, and Turkye.

There is a similar passage in Le Rom. de la Rose, 18499-18526. The first part of Machault's Dit du Lion (doubtless the Book of the Lion of which Chaucer's translation is now lost) is likewise taken up with the account of lovers who undertook feats, in order that the news of their deeds might reach their ladies. Among the places to which they used to go are mentioned Alexandres, Alemaigne, Osteriche, Behaigne, Honguerie, Danemarche, Prusse, Poulaine, Cracoe, Tartarie, &c. Some even went 'jusqu'à l'Arbre sec, Ou li oisel pendent au bec.' This alludes to the famous Arbre sec or Dry Tree, to reach which was a feat indeed; see Yule's edition of Marco Polo, i. 119; Maundeville, ed. Halliwell, p. 68; Mätzner, Sprachproben, ii. 185.

As a specimen of the modes of expression then prevalent, Warton draws attention to a passage in Froissart, c. 81, where Sir Walter Manny prefaces a gallant charge upon the enemy with the words—'May I never be embraced by my mistress and dear friend, if I enter castle or fortress before I have unhorsed one of these gallopers.'

1028. Go hoodles, travel without even the protection of a hood; by way of bravado. Warton, Hist. Eng. Poet. § 18 (ed. Hazlitt, iii. 4), says of a society called the Fraternity of the Penitents of Love—'Their object was to prove the excess of their love, by shewing with an invincible fortitude and consistency of conduct ... that they could bear extremes of heat and cold.... It was a crime to wear fur on a day of the most piercing cold; or to appear with a hood, cloak, gloves or muff.' See the long account of this in the Knight de la Tour Landry, ed. Wright, p. 169; and cf. The Squyer of Low Degree, 171-200.

What is meant by the drye se (dry sea) is disputed; but it matters little, for the general idea is clear. Mr. Brae, in the Appendix to his edition of Chaucer's Astrolabe (p. 101), has a long note on the present passage. Relying on the above quotation from Warton, he supposes hoodless to have reference to a practice of going unprotected in winter, and says that 'dry sea' may refer to any frozen sea. But it may equally refer to going unprotected in summer, in which case he offers us an alternative suggestion, that 'any arid sandy desert might be metaphorically called a dry sea.' The latter is almost a sufficient explanation; but if we must be particular, Mr. Brae has yet more to [487]tell us. He says that, at p. 1044 (Basle edition) of Sebastian Munster's Cosmographie, there is a description of a large lake which was dry in summer. 'It is said that there is a lake near the city of Labac, adjoining the plain of Zircknitz [Czirknitz], which in winter-time becomes of great extent.... But in summer the water drains away, the fish expire, the bed of the lake is ploughed up, corn grows to maturity, and, after the harvest is over, the waters return, &c. The Augspourg merchants have assured me of this, and it has been since confirmed to me by Vergier, the bishop of Cappodistria' [Capo d'Istria]. The lake still exists, and is no fable. It is the variable lake of Czirknitz, which sometimes covers sixty-three square miles, and is sometimes dry. It is situate in the province of Krain, or Carniola; Labac is the modern Laybach or Laibach, N.E. of Trieste. See the articles Krain, Czirknitz in the Engl. Cyclopædia, and the account of the lake in The Student, Sept. 1869.

That Chaucer really referred to this very lake becomes almost certain, if we are to accept Mr. Brae's explanation of the next line. See the next note.

1029. Carrenare. Mr. Brae suggests that the reference is to the 'gulf of the Carnaro or Quarnaro in the Adriatic,' to which Dante alludes in the Inferno, ix. 113, as being noted for its perils. Cary's translation runs thus:—

It is called in Black's Atlas the Channel of Quarnerolo, and is the gulf which separates Istria from Croatia. The head of the gulf runs up towards the province of Carniola, and approaches within forty miles (at the outside) of the lake of Czirknitz (see note above). I suppose that Quarnaro may be connected with Carn-iola and the Carn-ic Alps, but popular etymology interpreted it to mean 'charnel-house,' from its evil reputation. This appears from the quotations cited by Mr. Brae; he says that the Abbé Fortis quotes a Paduan writer, Palladio Negro, as saying—'E regione Istriæ, sinu Palatico, quem nautæ carnarium vocitant'; and again, Sebastian Munster, in his Cosmographie, p. 1044 (Basle edition) quotes a description by Vergier, Bishop of Capo d'Istria—'par deça le gouffre enragé lequel on appelle vulgairement Carnarie, d'autantque le plus souvent on le voit agité de tempestes horribles; et là s'engloutissent beaucoup de navires et se perdent plusieurs hommes.' In other words, the true name Quarnaro or Carnaro was turned by the sailors into Carnario, which means in Italian 'the shambles'; see Florio's Dict., ed. 1598. This Carnario might become Careynaire or Carenare in Chaucer's English, by association with the M.E. careyne or caroigne, carrion. This word is used by Chaucer in the Kn. Tale, 1155 (Six-text, A 2013), where the [488]Ellesmere MS. has careyne, and the Cambridge and Petworth MSS. have careyn.

For myself, I am well satisfied with the above explanation. It is probable, and it suffices; and stories about this dry sea may easily have been spread by Venetian sailors. I may add that Maundeville mentions 'a gravely see' in the land of Prestre John, 'that is alle gravele and sonde, with-outen any drope of watre; and it ebbethe and flowethe in grete wawes, as other sees don': ed. Halliwell, p. 272. This curious passage was pointed out by Prof. Hales, in a letter in the Academy, Jan. 28, 1882, p. 65.

We certainly ought to reject the explanation given with great assurance in the Saturday Review, July, 1870, p. 143, col. 1, that the allusion is to the chain of mountains called the Carena or Charenal, a continuation of the Atlas Mountains in Africa. The writer says—'Leonardo Dati (A.D. 1470), speaking of Africa, mentions a chain of mountains in continuation of the Atlas, 300 miles long, "commonly called Charenal." In the fine chart of Africa by Juan de la Coxa (1500), this chain is made to stretch as far as Egypt, and bears the name of Carena. La Salle, who was born in 1398, lays down the same chain, which corresponds, says Santarem (Histoire de la Cosmographie, iii. 456), to the Καρήνη of Ptolemy. These allusions place it beyond doubt [?] that the drie see of Chaucer was the Great Sahara, the return from whence [sic] homewards would be by the chain of the Atlas or [sic] Carena.' On the writer's own shewing, the Carena was not the Atlas, but a chain stretching thence towards Egypt; not an obvious way of returning home! Whereas, if the 'dry sea' were the lake of Czirknitz, the obvious way of getting away from it would be to take ship in the neighbouring gulf of Quarnaro. And how could Chaucer come to hear of this remote chain of mountains?

1034. 'But why do I tell you my story?' I. e. let me go on with it, and tell you the result.

1040. I here substitute lisse for goddesse, as in the authorities. The blunder is obvious; goddesse clogs the line with an extra syllable, and gives a false rime such as Chaucer never makes^[289]. He rimes blisse with kisse, lisse, misse, and wisse. Thus in the Frankelein's Tale, F 1237— [489]

Lisse is alleviation, solace, comfort; and l. 1040 as emended, fairly corresponds to Machault's 'C'est ce qui me soustient en vie,' i. e. it is she who sustains my life. The word goddesse was probably substituted for lisse, because the latter was obsolescent.

1041. I change hoolly hirs into hirs hoolly, and omit the following and. In the next line we have—By'r lord; as before (ll. 544, 651, 690).

1047. Leve (i. e. believe) is here much stronger than trowe, which merely expresses general assent.

1050. Read—'And to | behold | e th'alder | fayrest | e.' After beholde comes the cæsural pause, so that the final e in beholde does not count. Koch proposes to omit alder-. But how came it there?

1057. The spelling Alcipiades occurs in the Roman de la Rose, 8981, where he is mentioned as a type of beauty—'qui de biauté avoit adès'—on the authority of 'Boece.' The ultimate reference is to Boethius, Cons. Phil. b. iii. pr. 8. l. 32—'the body of Alcibiades that was ful fayr.'

1058. Hercules is also mentioned in Le Rom. de la Rose, 9223, 9240. See also Ho. Fame, 1413.

1060. Koch proposes to omit al; I would rather omit the. But we may read al th.'

1069. Antilegius, a corruption of Antilochus; and again, Antilochus is a mistake for Archilochus, owing to the usual medieval confusion in the forms of proper names. For the story, see next note.

1070. Dares Frigius, i. e. Dares Phrygius, or Dares of Phrygia. Chaucer again refers to him near the end of Troilus, and in Ho. Fame, 1467 (on which see the note). The works of Dares and Dictys are probably spurious. The reference is really to the very singular, yet popular, medieval version of the story of the Trojan war which was written by Guido of Colonna, and is entitled 'Historia destructionis Troie, per iudicem Guidonem de Columpna Messaniensem.' Guido's work was derived from the Roman de Troie, written by Benoit de Sainte-Maure; of which romance there is a late edition by M. Joly. In Mr. Panton's introduction to his edition of the Gest Historiale of the Destruction of Troy (Early Eng. Text Society), p. ix., we read—'From the exhaustive reasonings and proofs of Mons. Joly as to the person and age and country of his author, it is sufficiently manifest that the Roman du Troie appeared between the years 1175 and 1185. The translation, or version, of the Roman by Guido de Colonna was finished, as he tells us at the end of his Historia Trioana, in 1287. From one or other, or both, of these works, the various Histories, Chronicles, Romances, Gestes, and Plays of The Destruction of Troy, The [490]Prowess and Death of Hector, The Treason of the Greeks, &c., were translated, adapted, or amplified, in almost every language of Europe.'

The fact is, that the western nations of Europe claimed connexion, through Æneas and his followers, with the Trojans, and repudiated Homer as favouring the Greeks. They therefore rewrote the story of the Trojan war after a manner of their own; and, in order to give it authority, pretended that it was derived from two authors named Dares Phrygius (or Dares of Phrygia) and Dictys Cretensis (or Dictys of Crete). Dares and Dictys were real names, as they were cited in the time of Ælian (A.D. 230); and it was said that Dares was a Trojan who was killed by Ulysses. See further in Mr. Panton's introduction, as above; Morley's English Writers, vi. 118; and Warton, Hist. Eng. Poetry, ed. Hazlitt, ii. 127 (sect. 3). But Warton does not seem to have known that Guido mainly followed Benoit de Sainte-Maure.

The story about the death of Achilles is taken, accordingly, not from Homer but from Guido de Colonna and his predecessor Benoit. It may be found in the alliterative Geste Hystoriale, above referred to (ed. Panton and Donaldson, p. 342); or in Lydgate's Siege of Troye, bk. iv. c. 32. Hecuba invites Achilles and Archilochus to meet her in the temple of Apollo. When they arrive, they are attacked by Paris and a band of men and soon killed, though Achilles first slays seven of his foes with his own hand.

Here 'the kyng' is Achilles, and 'the knyght' is Archilochus. It may be added that Achilles was lured to the temple by the expectation that he would there meet Polyxena, and be wedded to her; as Chaucer says in the next line. Polyxena was a daughter of Priam and Hecuba; she is alluded to in Shakespeare's Troilus, iii. 3. 208. According to Ovid, Metam. xiii. 448, she was sacrificed on the tomb of Achilles.

1071. I supply hir; Koch would supply queen. I do not find that she was a queen.

1075. Trewely is properly (though not always) trisyllabic. It was inserted after nay, because nede and gabbe were thought to be monosyllables. Even so, the 'amended' line is bad. It is all right if trewly be omitted; and I omit it accordingly.

1081. Penelope is accented on the first e and on o, as in French. Chaucer copies this form from the Roman de la Rose, l. 8694, as appears from his coupling it with Lucrece, whilst at the same time he borrows a pair of rimes. The French has:—

In the same passage, the story of Lucretia is told in full, on the authority of Livy, as here. The French has: 'ce dit Titus Livius'; l. 8654. In the prologue to the Legend of Good Women, Chaucer alludes again [491]to Penelope (l. 252), Lucrece of Rome (l. 257), and Polixene (l. 258); and he gives the Legend of Lucrece in full. He again alludes to Lucrece and Penelope in the lines preceding the Man of Lawes Prologue (B 63, 75); and in the Frankelein's Tale (F 1405, 1443).

1085. This seems to mean—'she (Blaunche) was as good (as they), and (there was) nothing like (her), though their stories are authentic (enough).' But the expression 'nothing lyke' is extremely awkward, and seems wrong. Nothing also means 'not at all'; but this does not help us. In l. 1086, stories should perhaps be storie; then her storie would be the story of Lucrece; cf. l. 1087.

1089, 1090. Read seyë, subjunctive, and seyë, gerund. Cf. knewë, subj., 1133.

Yong is properly monosyllabic. Read—'I was right yong, the sooth to sey.' In. l. 1095, yong-e is the definite form.

1096. Accent besette (= besett') on the prefix. Else, we must read Without' and besettë. We should expect Without-e, as in 1100. Without is rare; but see IV. 17.

1119. According to the Historia Troiana of Guido (see note to l. 1070) it was Antenor (also written Anthenor) who took away the Palladium and sent it to Ulysses, thus betraying Troy. See the Geste Hystoriale, p. 379; or see the extract from Caxton in my Specimens of English from 1394 to 1579, p. 89. Or see Chaucer's Troilus, bk. iv. l. 204.

1121. Genelon; also Genilon, as in the Monkes Tale, B 3579. He is mentioned again in the Nonne Preestes Tale, B 4417 (C. T. 15233), and in the Shipmannes Tale, B 1384 (C. T. 13124), where he is called 'Geniloun of France.' Tyrwhitt's note on Genelon in his Glossary is as follows: 'One of Charlemaigne's officers, who, by his treachery, was the cause of the defeat at Roncevaux, the death of Roland, &c., for which he was torn to pieces by horses. This at least is the account of the author who calls himself Archbishop Turpin, and of the Romancers who followed him; upon whose credit the name of Genelon or Ganelon was for several centuries a synonymous expression for the worst of traitors.' See the Chanson de Roland, ed. Gautier; Dante, Inf. xxxii. 122, where he is called Ganellone; and Wheeler's Noted Names of Fiction. Cf. also the Roman de la Rose, l. 7902-4:—

1123. Rowland and Olivere, the two most celebrated of Charlemagne's Twelve Peers of France; see Roland in Wheeler's Noted Names of Fiction, and Ellis's Specimens of Early Eng. Metrical Romances, especially the account of the Romance of Sir Otuel. [492]

1137. Accent thou. This and the next line are repeated, nearly, from ll. 743, 744. See also ll. 1305-6.

1139. I here insert the word sir, as in most of the other places where the poet addresses the stranger.

1159. For this, B. has thus. Neither this nor thus seems wanted; I therefore pay no regard to them.

The squire Dorigen, in the Frankelein's Tale, consoled himself in the same way (F 947):—

1162. Tubal; an error for Jubal; see Gen. iv. 21. But the error is Chaucer's own, and is common. See Higden's Polychronicon, lib. iii. c. 11, ed. Lumby, iii. 202; Higden cites the following from Isidorus, lib. ii. c. 24:—'Quamvis Tubal de stirpe Cayn ante diluvium legatur fuisse musicæ inventor, ... tamen apud Græcos Pythagoras legitur ex malleorum sonitu et chordarum extensione musicam reperisse.' In Genesis, it is Jubal who 'was the father of all such as handle the harp and organ'; and Tubal-cain who was 'an instructor of every artificer in brass and iron.' The notion of the discovery of music by the former from the observation of the sounds struck upon the anvil of the latter is borrowed from the usual fable about Pythagoras. This fable is also given by Higden, who copies it from Macrobius. It will be found in the Commentary by Macrobius on the Somnium Scipionis, lib. ii. c. 1; and is to the effect that Pythagoras, observing some smiths at work, found that the tones struck upon their anvils varied according to the weights of the hammers used by them; and, by weighing these hammers, he discovered the relations to each other of the various notes in the gamut. The story is open to the objection that the facts are not so; the sound varies according to variations in the anvil or the thing struck, not according to the variation in the striking implement. However, Pythagoras is further said to have made experiments with stretched strings of varying length; which would have given him right results. See Mrs. Somerville's Connection of the Physical Sciences, sect. 16 and 17.

1169. Aurora. The note in Tyrwhitt's Glossary, s. v. Aurora, runs thus:—'The title of a Latin metrical version of several parts of the Bible by Petrus de Riga, Canon of Rheims, in the twelfth century. Leyser, in his Hist. Poet. Med. Ævi, pp. 692-736, has given large extracts from this work, and among others the passage which Chaucer seems to have had in his eye (p. 728):— [493]

Warton speaks of 'Petrus de Riga, canon of Rheims, whose Aurora, or the History of the Bible allegorised, in Latin verses ... was never printed entire.'—Hist. E. Poet. 1871, iii. 136.

1175. A song in six lines; compare the eleven-line song above, at l. 475. Lines 1175-6 rime with lines 1179-80.

1198. Koch scans: Ánd | bounté | withoút' | mercý ||. This is no better than the reading in the text.

1200. 'With (tones of) sorrow and by compulsion, yet as though I never ought to have done so.' Perhaps read wolde, wished (to do).

1206. Dismal. In this particular passage the phrase in the dismal means 'on an unlucky day,' with reference to an etymology which connected dismal with the Latin dies malus. Though we cannot derive dismal immediately from the Lat. dies malus, it is now known that there was an Anglo-French phrase dis mal (= Lat. dies mali, plural); whence the M. E. phrase in the dismal, 'in the evil days,' or (more loosely), 'on an evil day.' When the exact sense was lost, the suffix -al seemed to be adjectival, and the word dismal became at last an adjective. The A.F. form dismal, explained as les mal jours (evil days), was discovered by M. Paul Meyer in a Glasgow MS. (marked Q. 9. 13, fol. 100, back), in a poem dated 1256; which settles the question. Dr. Chance notes that Chaucer probably took dis-mal to be derived from O.F. dis mal, i. e. 'ten evils'; see l. 1207.

We can now see the connexion with the next line. The whole sentence means: 'I think it must have been in the evil days (i. e. on an unlucky day), such as were the days of the ten plagues of Egypt'; and the allusion is clearly to the so-called dies Ægyptiaci, or unlucky days; and woundes is merely a rather too literal translation of Lat. plaga, which we generally translate by plague. In Vincent of Beauvais, Speculum Naturale, lib. xv. c. 83, we find:—'In quolibet mense sunt duo dies, qui dicuntur Ægyptiaci, quorum unus est a principio mensis, alter a fine.' He goes on to shew how they are calculated, and says that, in January, the Egyptian days are the 1st, and the 7th from the end, i. e. the 25th; and he expressly refers the name Ægyptiaci to the plagues of Egypt, which (as some said) took place on Egyptian days; for it was asserted that there were minor plagues besides the ten. See also Brand's Pop. Antiquities, ed. Ellis, from which I extract the following. Barnabe Googe thus translates the remarks of Naogeorgus on this subject [of days]:—

'The Christian faith is violated when, so like a pagan and apostate, any man doth observe those days which are called Ægyptiaci,' &c.—Melton's Astrologaster, p. 56; in Brand, ii. 47. 'If his Journey began unawares on the dismal day, he feares a mischiefe'; Bp. Hall, Characters of Virtues and Vices; in Brand, ii. 48. 'Alle that take hede to dysmal dayes, or use nyce observaunces in the newe moone,' &c.; Dialogue of Dives and Pauper (1493); in Brand, i. 9. 'A dismol day'; Tale of Beryn, 650. Compare also the following:—

In the Pistil of Swete Susan (Laing's Anc. Pop. Poetry of Scotland), l. 305, Daniel reproves one of the elders in these terms:—

In Langtoft's Chronicle, l. 477 (in Wright's Polit. Songs, p. 303), John Baliol is attacked in some derisive verses, which conclude with:—'Rede him at ride in the dismale'; i. e. advise him to ride on an unlucky day. Cf. The Academy, Nov. 28, 1891, p. 482; &c.

1208. A priest who missed words in chanting a service was called an overskipper; see my note to P. Plowman, C. xiv. 123.

1246. Cassandra. The prophetic lamentation of Cassandra over the impending fate of Troy is given in the alliterative Geste Hystoriale (E. E. T. S.), p. 88, and in Lydgate's Siege of Troye, bk. ii. c. 12, from Guido de Colonna; cf. Vergil, Æn. ii. 246.

1248. Chaucer treats Ilion as if it were different from Troye; cf. Nonne Prestes Tale, B 4546 (C. T. 15362). He merely follows Guido de Colonna and others, who made Ilion the name of the citadel of Troy; see further in note to Ho. of Fame, l. 158.

1288. M. Sandras (Étude sur Chaucer, p. 95) says this is from Machault's Jugement du Bon Roi de Behaigne—

1309. Imitated in Spenser's Daphnaida, 184. The Duchess Blaunche [495]died Sept. 12, 1369. The third great pestilence lasted from July to September in that year.

1318. Possibly the long castel here meant is Windsor Castle; this seems likely when we remember that it was in Windsor Castle that Edward III. instituted the order of the Garter, April 23, 1349; and that he often resided there. A riche hil in the next line appears to have no special significance. The suggestion, in Bell's Chaucer, that it refers to Richmond (which, after all, is not Windsor) is quite out of the question, because that town was then called Sheen, and did not receive the name of Richmond till the reign of Henry VII., who renamed it after Richmond in Yorkshire, whence his own title of Earl of Richmond had been derived.

1322. Belle, i. e. bell of a clock, which rang out the hour. This bell, half heard in the dream, seems to be meant to be real. If so, it struck midnight; and Chaucer's chamber must have been within reach of its sound.

By consulting ll. 13 and 14, we see that the whole of this poem is supposed to be uttered by a bird on the 14th of February, before sunrise. Lines 1-28 form the proem; the rest give the story of Mars and Venus, followed by the Complaint of Mars at l. 155. The first 22 stanzas are in the ordinary 7-line stanza. The Complaint is very artificial, consisting of an Introductory Stanza, and five Terns, or sets of three stanzas, making sixteen stanzas of nine lines each, or 144 lines. Thus the whole poem has 298 lines.

Each tern is occupied with a distinct subject, which I indicate by headings, viz. Devotion to his Love; Description of a Lady in an anxiety of fear and woe; the Instability of Happiness; the story of the Brooch of Thebes; and An Appeal for Sympathy. A correct appreciation of these various 'movements' of the Complaint makes the poem much more intelligible.

1. Foules. The false reading lovers was caught from l. 5 below. But the poem opens with a call from a bird to all other birds, bidding them rejoice at the return of Saint Valentine's day. There is an obvious allusion in this line to the common proverb—'As fain as fowl of a fair morrow,' which is quoted in the Kn. Tale, 1579 (A 2437), in P. Plowman, B. x. 153, and is again alluded to in the Can. Yeom. Tale, G 1342. In l. 3, the bird addresses the flowers, and finally, in l. 5, the lovers.

2. Venus, the planet, supposed to appear as a morning-star, as it sometimes does. See note to Boethius, bk. i. met. 5. l. 9.

Rowes, streaks or rays of light, lit. rows. In the Complaint of the Black Knight, l. 596, Lydgate uses the word of the streaks of light at [496]eventide—'And while the twilight and the rowes rede Of Phebus light,' &c. Also in Lydgate's Troy-Book, bk. i. c. 6, ed. 1555, fol. E 1, quoted by Warton, Hist. E. Poetry, 1871, iii. 84:—'Whan that the rowes and the rayes rede Estward to us full early gonnen sprede.' Hence the verb rowen, to dawn; P. Plowm. C. ii. 114, xxi. 28; see my Notes to P. Plowman. Tyrwhitt's Glossary ignores the word.

4. Uprist, upriseth. But in Kn. Tale, 193 (A 1051), uprist-e (with final e) is the dat. case of a sb.

7. The final e in sonn-e occurs at the cæsural pause; candle is pronounced nearly as candl'. The sun is here called the candle of Ielosye, i.e torch or light that discloses cause for jealousy, in allusion to the famous tale which is the foundation of the whole poem, viz. how Phœbus (the Sun) discovered the amour between Mars and Venus, and informed Vulcan of it, rousing him to jealousy; which Chaucer doubtless obtained from his favourite author Ovid (Metam. bk. iv). See the description of 'Phebus,' with his 'torche in honde,' in ll. 27, 81-84 below. Gower also, who quotes Ovid expressly, has the whole story; Conf. Amant. ed. Pauli, ii. 149. The story first occurs in Homer, Odys. viii. 266-358. And cf. Statius, Theb. iii. 263-316; Chaucer's Kn. Tale, 1525 (A 2383), &c. Cf. also Troilus, iii. 1457.

8. Blewe; 'there seems no propriety in this epithet; it is probably a corruption'; Bell. But it is quite right; in M. E., the word is often applied to the colour of a wale or stripe caused by a blow, as in the phrase 'beat black and blue'; also to the gray colour of burnt-out ashes, as in P. Plowman, B. iii. 97; also to the colour of lead; 'as blo as led,' Miracle-Plays, ed. Marriott, p. 148. 'Ashen-gray' or 'lead-coloured' is not a very bad epithet for tears:—

9. Taketh, take ye. With seynt Iohn, with St. John for a surety; borwe being in the dat. case; see note to Squi. Tale, F 596. It occurs also in the Kingis Quair, st. 23; Blind Harry's Wallace, bk. ix. l. 46; &c.

25. See note to line 7 above; and cf. Troilus, iii. 1450-70:—'O cruel day,' &c.

29. In the Proem to Troilus, bk. iii. st. 1, Chaucer places Venus in the third heaven; that is, he begins to reckon from the earth outwards, the spheres being, successively, those of the Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn; see the description of the planets in Gower's Confessio Amantis, bk. vii. So also, in Troilus, v. 1809, by the seventh sphere he means the outermost sphere of Saturn. But in [497]other poems he adopts the more common ancient mode, of reckoning the spheres in the reverse order, taking Saturn first; in which case Mars comes third. In this he follows Macrobius, who, in his Commentary on the Somnium Scipionis, lib. i. c. 19, has:—'A sphæra Saturni, quæ est prima de septem,' &c.; see further on this borrowing from Macrobius in the note to l. 69. The same mode of reckoning places Venus in the fifth sphere, as in Lenvoy to Scogan, l. 9. In the curious manual of astronomy called The Shepheards Kalendar (pr. in 1604) we find, in the account of Mars, the following: 'The planet of Mars is called the God of battel and of war, and he is the third planet, for he raigneth next vnder the gentle planet of Jupiter.... And Mars goeth about the twelue signes in two yeare.' The account of Venus has:—'Next after the Sun raigneth the gentle planet Venus, ... and she is lady ouer all louers: ... and her two signes is Taurus and Libra.... This planet Venus runneth in twelue months ouer the xii. signes.' Also:—'Next under Venus is the faire planet Mercury ... and his principall signes be these: Gemini is the first ... and the other signe is Virgo,' &c. See Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 121.

Hence the 'third heaven's lord' is Mars; and Chaucer tells us, that by virtue of his motion in his orbit (as well as by desert) he had won Venus. That is, Venus and Mars were seen in the sky very near each other. We may explain wonne by 'approached.'

36. At alle, in any and every case. There is a parallel passage to this stanza in Troilus, bk. iii. st. 4 of the Proem.

38. Talle, obedient, docile, obsequious. See the account of this difficult word in my Etym. Dictionary, s.v. tall.

42. Scourging, correction. Compare the phr. under your yerde; Parl. Foules, 640, and the note. I see no reason for suspecting the reading.

51. Loking, aspect; a translation of the Latin astrological term aspectus. They regard each other with a favourable aspect.

54. Hir nexte paleys, the next palace (or mansion), which belonged to Venus. In astrology, each planet was said to have two mansions, except the sun and moon, which had but one apiece. A mansion, or house, or palace, is that Zodiacal sign in which, for some imaginary reason, a planet was supposed to be peculiarly at home. (The whole system is fanciful and arbitrary.) The mansions of Venus were said to be Taurus and Libra; those of Mars, Aries and Scorpio; and those of Mercury, Gemini and Virgo. See the whole scheme in the introduction to Chaucer's Astrolabe. The sign here meant is Taurus (cf. l. 86); and the arrangement was that Mars should 'glide' or pass out of the sign of Aries into that of Taurus, which came next, and belonged specially to Venus.

55. A-take, overtaken; because the apparent motion of Venus is swifter than that of Mars. This shews that Mars was, at first, further advanced than Venus along the Zodiac. [498]

61. Actually repeated in the Nonne Prestes Tale, l. 340 (B 4350):—'For whan I see the beautee of your face.' Compare also l. 62 with the same, l. 342; and l. 63 with the same, l. 350.

69. That is, the apparent motion of Venus was twice as great as that of Mars. Chaucer here follows Macrobius, Comment. in Somnium Scipionis, lib. i. ch. 19, who says:—'Rursus tantum a Iove sphæra Martis recedit, ut eundum cursum biennio peragat. Venus autem tanto est regione Martis inferior, ut ei annus satis sit ad zodiacum peragrandum'; that is, Mars performs his orbit in two years, but Venus in one; accordingly, she moves as much in one day as Mars does in two days. Mars really performs his orbit in rather less than two years (about 687 days), and Venus in less than one (about 225 days), but Chaucer's statement is sufficiently near to facts, the apparent motion of the planets being variable.

71. This line resembles one in the Man of Lawes Tale, B 1075:—'And swich a blisse is ther bitwix hem two'; and ll. 71, 72 also resemble the same, ll. 1114, 1115:—

81. Phebus here passes the palace-gates; in other words, the sun enters the sign of Taurus, and so comes into Venus' chamber, within her palace. Cf. note to l. 54.

In Chaucer's time, the sun entered Taurus on the twelfth of April. This is actually mentioned below, in l. 139.

86. That is, both Mars and Venus are now in Taurus. The entry of Venus is noticed in l. 72.

89. The latter syllable of Venus comes at the cæsural pause; but the scansion is best mended by omitting nygh; see footnote.

96. In the Shepheards Kalendar, Mars is said to be 'hot and dry'; and Venus to be 'moist and colde.' Thus Mars was supposed to cause heat, and Venus to bring rain. The power of Venus in causing rain is fully alluded to in Lenvoy to Scogan, st. 2.

104. Nearly repeated in Kn. Tale, 1091 (A 1949):—'Ne may with Venus holde champartye.'

105. Bad her fleen, bade her flee; because her motion in her orbit was faster than his. Cf. l. 112.

111. Stremes, beams, rays; for the eyes of Mars emitted streams of fire (l. 95). Venus is already half past the distance to which Mars's beams extend. Obscure and fanciful.

113. Cylenius, Cyllenius, i. e. Mercury, who was born on Mount Cyllene in Arcadia; Vergil, Æn. viii. 139. Tour, tower; another word for mansion. The tower of Cyllenius, or mansion of Mercury, is [499]the sign Gemini; see note to l. 29. Venus passes out of Taurus into the next sign Gemini. 'The sign Gemini is also domus Murcurii, so that when Venus fled into "the tour" of Cyllenius, she simply slipped into the next door to her own house of Taurus, leaving poor Mars behind to halt after her as he best might'; A.E. Brae, in Notes and Queries, 1st Series, iii. 235.

114. Voide, solitary; Mars is left behind in Taurus. Besides (according to l. 116) there was no other planet in Gemini at that time.

117. But litil myght. A planet was supposed to exercise its greatest influence in the sign which was called its exaltation; and its least influence in that which was called its depression. The exaltation of Venus was in Pisces; her depression, in Virgo. She was now in Gemini, and therefore halfway from her exaltation to her depression. So her influence was slight, and waning.

119. A cave. In l. 122 we are told that it stood only two paces within the gate, viz. of Gemini. The gate or entrance into Gemini is the point where the sign begins. By paces we must understand degrees; for the F. word pas evidently represents the Lat. gradus. Venus had therefore advanced to a point which stood only two degrees within (or from the beginning of) the sign. In plain words, she was now in the second degree of Gemini, and there fell into a cave, in which she remained for a natural day, that is (taking her year to be of nearly the same length as the earth's year) for the term during which she remained within that second degree. Venus remained in the cave as long as she was in that second degree of the sign; from the moment of entering it to the moment of leaving it.

A natural day means a period of twenty-four hours, as distinguished from the artificial day, which was the old technical name for the time from sunrise to sunset. This Chaucer says plainly, in his Treatise on the Astrolabe, pt. ii. § 7, l. 12—'the day natural, that is to seyn 24 houris.'

We thus see that the cave here mentioned is a name for the second degree of the sign Gemini.

This being so, I have no doubt at all, that cave is here merely a translation of the Latin technical astrological term puteus. In Vincent of Beauvais, Speculum Naturale, lib. xv. c. 42, I find:—'Et in signis sunt quidam gradus, qui dicuntur putei; cum fuerit planeta in aliquo istorum, dicitur esse in puteo, vt 6 gradus Arietis, et 11, etc.' There are certain degrees in the signs called putei; and when a planet is in one of these, it is said to be in puteo; such degrees, in Aries, are the 6th, 11th, &c. Here, unfortunately, Vincent's information ceases; he refers us, however, to Alcabitius.

Alcabitius (usually Alchabitius), who should rather be called Abdel-Aziz, was an Arabian astrologer who lived towards the middle of the tenth century. His treatise on judicial astrology was translated into Latin by Johannes Hispalensis in the thirteenth century. This [500]translation was printed at Venice, in quarto, in 1481, 1482, and 1502; see Didot, Nouv. Biograph. Universelle.

I found a copy of the edition of 1482 in the Cambridge University Library, entitled Libellus ysagogicus abdilazi .i. serui gloriosi dei. qui dicitur alchabitius ad magisterium iudiciorum astrorum; interpretatus a ioanne hispalensi. At sign. a 7, back, I found the passage quoted above from Vincent, and a full list of the putei. The putei in the sign of Gemini are the degrees numbered 2, 12, 17, 26, 30. After this striking confirmation of my conjecture, I think no more need be said.

But I may add, that Chaucer expressly mentions 'Alkabucius' by name, and refers to him; Treat. on Astrolabe, i. 8. 9. The passage which he there quotes occurs in the same treatise, sign. a 1, back.

120. Derk, dark. I think it is sufficient to suppose that this word is used, in a purely astrological sense, to mean inauspicious; and the same is true of l. 122, where Venus remains under this sinister influence as long as she remained in the ill-omened second degree of Gemini. There is no need to suppose that the planet's light was really obscured.

129. The Fairfax MS. and some editions have the false reading sterre. As Mars was supposed to complete his orbit (360 degrees) in two years (see note to l. 69), he would pass over one degree of it in about two days. Hence Mr. Brae's note upon this line, as printed in Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 121:—'The mention of dayes two is so specific that it cannot but have a special meaning. Wherefore, either sterre is a metonym for degree; or which is more probable, Chaucer's word was originally steppe (gradus), and was miscopied sterre by early scribes.' Here Mr. Brae was exceedingly near the right solution; we now see that sterre was miswritten (not for steppe, but) for steyre, by the mere alteration of one letter. If the scribe was writing from dictation, the mistake was still more easily made, since steyre and sterre would sound very nearly alike, with the old pronunciation. As to steyre, it is the exact literal translation of Lat. gradus, which meant a degree or stair. Thus Minsheu's Dict. has:—'a Staire, Lat. gradus.' This difficulty, in fact, is entirely cleared up by accepting the reading of the majority of the MSS.

131. He foloweth her, i. e. the motions of Mars and Venus were in the same direction; neither of them had a 'retrograde' motion, but advanced along the signs in the direction of the sun's apparent motion.

137. 'Alas; that my orbit has so wide a compass'; because the orbit of Mars is so very much larger than that of Venus. Still larger was the orbit of Saturn; Kn. Tale, 1596 (A 2454). Spere is sphere, orbit.

139. Twelfte, twelfth. The false reading twelve arose from misreading the symbol '.xij.,' which was used as an abbreviation both for [501]twelfte and for twelve. See Furnivall, Trial Forewords, p. 88. As a fact, it was on the 12th day of April that the sun entered Taurus; see note to l. 81.

144. Cylenius, Mercury; as in l. 113. Chevauche, equestrian journey, ride. Used ludicrously to mean a feat of horsemanship in l. 50 of the Manciple's Prologue. The closely related word chivachye, in Prologue to C. T. 85, means a military (equestrian) expedition. In the present case it simply means 'swift course,' with reference to the rapid movement of Mercury, which completes its orbit in about 88 days. Thus the line means—'Mercury, advancing in his swift course.'

145. Fro Venus valance. This is the most difficult expression in the poem, but I explain it by reading fallance, which of course is only a guess. I must now give my reasons, as every preceding commentator has given up the passage as hopeless.

The readings of the MSS. all point back to a form valance (as in Ar.) or valauns (as in Tn.); whence the other readings, such as Valaunses, valanus (for valauns), balance, balaunce, are all deduced, by easy corruptions. But, as no assignable sense has been found for valance, I can only suppose that it is an error for falance or fallance. I know of no instance of its use in English, but Godefroy gives examples of fallance and falence in O. French, though the usual spelling is faillance. The change from faillance or fallance to vallance or valance would easily be made by scribes, from the alliterative influence of the initial letter of the preceding word Venus. Moreover, we have v for f in E. vixen (for fixen), and in Southern English generally. Even in a Chaucer MS., the curious spelling vigour or vigur for figure occurs over and over again; viz. in the Cambridge MS. (Dd. 3. 53) of Chaucer's 'Astrolabe.'

The sense of fallance or faillance is failure, defection. Cotgrave gives us: 'Faillance, f. a defection, failing, decaying.' The numerous examples in Godefroy shew that it was once a common word. It represents a Lat. fem. *fallentia.

I hold it to be the exact literal translation into French of the Lat. technical (astrological) term detrimentum. In my edition of Chaucer's Astrolabe (E. E. T. S.), p. lxvii., I explained that every planet had either one or two mansions, and one or two detrimenta. The detrimentum is the sign of the Zodiac opposite to the planet's mansion. The mansions of Venus were Taurus and Libra (see note to l. 54); and her detrimenta were Scorpio and Aries. The latter is here intended; so that, after all, this apparently mysterious term 'Venus valance' is nothing but another name for the sign Aries, which, from other considerations, must necessarily be here intended.

If the correction of valance to fallance be disallowed, I should plead that valance might be short for avalance (mod. E. avalanche, literally descent), just as every reader of our old literature knows that vale is a common form instead of avale, to descend or lower, being the verb [502]from which avalance is derived. This valance (= avalance) is a fair translation of the Lat. occasus, which was an alternative name for the sign called detrimentum; see my edition of the Astrolabe, as above. The result would then be just the same as before, and would bring us back to the sign of Aries again.

But we know that Aries is meant, from purely astronomical considerations. For the planet Mercury is always so near the sun that it can never have a greater elongation, or angular distance, from it than 29°, which is just a little less than the length of a sign, which was 30°. But, the sun being (as said) in the 1st degree of Taurus on the 12th of April, it is quite certain that Mercury was either in Taurus or in Aries. Again, as there was no mention of Mercury being in Taurus when Mars and Venus were there and were undisturbed (see note to l. 114), we can only infer that Mercury was then in Aries.

Moreover, he continued his swift course, always approaching and tending to overtake the slower bodies that preceded him, viz. the Sun, Mars, and Venus. At last, he got so near that he was able to 'see' or get a glimpse of his mansion Gemini, which was not so very far ahead of him. This I take to mean that he was swiftly approaching the end of Aries.

We can now tell the exact position of all the bodies on the 14th of April, two days after the sun had burst into Taurus, where he had found Mars and Venus at no great distance apart. By that time, Venus was in the second degree of Gemini, Mars was left behind in Taurus, the sun was in the third degree of Taurus, and Mercury near the end of Aries, sufficiently near to Venus to salute and cheer her with a kindly and favourable aspect.

I will add that whilst the whole of the sign of Aries was called the occasus or detrimentum of Venus, it is somewhat curious that the last ten degrees of Aries (degrees 20 to 30) were called the face of Venus. Chaucer uses this astrological term face elsewhere with reference to the first ten degrees of Aries, which was 'the face of Mars' (see my note to Squieres Tale, F 47). Hence another possible reading is Fro Venus facë mighte, &c.

In any case, I think we are quite sufficiently near to Chaucer's meaning; especially as he is, after all, only speaking in allegory, and there is no need to strain his words to suit rigid astronomical calculations.

I only give this as a guess, for what it is worth; I should not care to defend it.

150. Remembreth me, comes to my memory; the nom. case being the preceding part of the sentence. Me, by the way, refers to the extraordinary bird who is made responsible for the whole poem, with the sole exception of lines 13 and 14, and half of l. 15. The bird tells us he will say and sing the Complaint of Mars, and afterwards take his leave.

155. We now come to the part of the poem which exhibits great [503]metrical skill. In order to shew the riming more clearly, I have 'set back' the 3rd, 6th, and 7th lines of each stanza. Each stanza exhibits the order of rimes a a b a a b b c c; i. e. the first rime belongs to lines 1, 2, 4, 5; the second rime to lines 3, 6, 7; and the last rime to lines 8 and 9. The first stanza forms an Introduction or Proem. The rest form five Terns, or sets of three stanzas, as has been already said. Each Tern has its own subject, quite separate from the rest.

The first line can only be scanned by reading The ordre as Th'ordr' (monosyllable).

164. The first Tern expresses his Devotion to his love's service. I gave my love, he says, to her for ever; She is the very source of all beauty; and now I will never leave her, but will die in her service.

170. That is—who ever approaches her, but obtains from her no favour, loses all joy in love, and only feels its bitterness.

176. Men, people; men hit selle = it is sold. This parenthetical ejaculation is an echo to that in l. 168.

185. Hette, promised (incorrectly). The M.E. haten, to promise, is a complicated verb; see the excellent examples in Mätzner's Dictionary, and in Grein's A. S. Dict., s. v. hátan. It had two past tenses; the first heet, a strong form, meaning 'promised, commanded,' answering to A.S. héht and Goth. haihait; and the second hette, hatte, a weak form, meaning 'I was named,' answering to A. S. hátte (used both as a present and a past tense without change of form) and to the Goth. present passive haitada. Chaucer has here used the intransitive weak past tense with the sense of the transitive strong one; just as he uses lernen with the sense of 'teach.' The confusion was easy and common.

190. But grace be, unless favour be shewn me. See, shall see; present as future.

191. Tern 2. Shall I complain to my lady? Not so; for she is in distress herself. Lovers may be as true as new metal, and yet suffer. To return: my lady is in distress, and I ought to mourn for her, even though I knew no other sorrow.

205. 'They might readily leave their head as a pledge,' i. e. might devote themselves to death.

206. Horowe, foul, unclean, filthy, scandalous; pl. of horow, an adj. formed from the A.S. sb. horu (gen. horwes). filth; cf. A.S. horweht, filthy, from the same stem horw-. The M.E. adj. also takes the form hori, hory, from A.S. horig, an adj. formed from the closely related A.S. sb. horh, horg, filth. As the M.E. adj. is not common, I give some examples (from Mätzner). 'Hit nis bote a hori felle,' it is only a dirty skin; Early Eng. Poems, ed. Furnivall, p. 19, l. 13. 'Thy saule ... thorugh fulthe of synne Sone is mad wel hory wythinne,' thy soul, by filth of sin, is soon made very foul within; Reliquiæ Antiquæ, ii. 243. 'Eny uncleene, whos touchynge is hoory,' any unclean person, whose touch is defiling; Wyclif, Levit. xxii. 5. 'Still used in Devon, pronounced horry'; Halliwell. [504]

218. Tern 3. Why did the Creator institute love? The bliss of lovers is so unstable, that in every case lovers have more woes than the moon has changes. Many a fish is mad after the bait; but when he is hooked, he finds his penance, even though the line should break.

245. Tern 4. The brooch of Thebes had this property, that every one who saw it desired to possess it; when he possessed it, he was haunted with constant dread; and when he lost it, he had a double sorrow in thinking that it was gone. This was due, however, not to the brooch itself, but to the cunning of the maker, who had contrived that all who possessed it should suffer. In the same way, my lady was as the brooch; yet it was not she who caused me wo, but it was He who endowed her with beauty.

The story referred to occurs in the account of the war between Eteocles and Polynices for the possession of Thebes, as related in the Thebaïd of Statius.

In the second book of that poem, the story relates the marriage of Polynices and Tydeus to the two daughters of Adrastus, king of Argos. The marriage ceremony was marred by inauspicious omens, which was attributed to the fact that Argia, who was wedded to Polynices, wore at the wedding a magic bracelet (here called a brooch) which had belonged to Harmonia, a daughter of Mars and Venus, and wife of Cadmus. This ornament had been made by Vulcan, in order to bring an evil fate upon Harmonia, to whom it was first given, and upon all women who coveted it or wore it. See the whole story in Statius, Thebais, ii. 265; or in Lewis's translation of Statius, ii. 313.

246. It must be remembered that great and magical virtues were attributed to precious stones and gems. See further in the note to Ho. of Fame, l. 1352.

259. Enfortuned hit so, endued it with such virtues. 'He that wrought it' was Vulcan; see note to l. 245.

272. Tern 5. I appeal for sympathy, first to the knights who say that I, Mars, am their patron; secondly, to the ladies who should compassionate Venus their empress; lastly, to all lovers who should sympathise with Venus, who was always so ready to aid them.

273. Of my divisioun, born under my influence. The same word is used in the same way in Kn. Tale, 1166 (A 2024). Of course Mars was the special patron of martial knights.

The Complaint of Venus which formerly used to be printed as a part of this poem, is really a distinct piece. See Sect. XVIII. [505]

Title. Gg. has Here begynyth the parlement of Foulys; Harl. has The Parlament of Foules; Tn. has The Parlement of Briddis; Trin. has Here foloweth the parlement of Byrdes reducyd to loue, &c. We also find, at the end of the poem, such notes as these: Gg. Explicit parliamentum Auium in die sancti Valentini tentum secundum Galfridum Chaucer; Ff. Explicit parliamentum Auium; Tn. Explicit tractatus de Congregacione volucrum die Sancti Valentini; and in MS. Arch. Seld. B. 24—Here endis the parliament of foulis Quod Galfride Chaucere.

1. Part of the first aphorism of Hippocrates is—Ὁ βίος βραχύς, ἡ δὲ τέχνη μακρή. This is often quoted in the Latin form—Ars longa, uita brevis. Longfellow, in his Psalm of Life, well renders it by—'Art is long, but life is fleeting.'

3. Slit, the contracted form of slideth, i. e. passes away; cf. 'it slit awey so faste,' Can. Yeom. Tale; C. T., Group G, l. 682. The false reading flit arose from mistaking a long s for f.

8. Evidently this disclaimer is a pretended one; the preceding stanza and ll. 13, 14 contradict it. So does l. 160. In this stanza we have an early example of Chaucer's humour, of which there are several instances below, as e. g. in ll. 567-570, 589, 599, 610, &c. Cf. Troilus, i. 15, where Chaucer again says he is no lover himself, but only serves Love's servants.

22. Men is here a weakened form of man, and is used as a singular sb., with the same force as the F. on or the G. man. Hence the vb. seith is in the singular. This construction is extremely common in Middle English. In ll. 23 and 25 com'th is monosyllabic.

31. Tullius, i. e. M. Tullius Cicero, who wrote a piece entitled Somnium Scipionis, which originally formed part of the sixth book of the De Republica. Warton (Hist. Eng. Poetry, ed. Hazlitt. iii. 65) remarks:—'Had this composition descended to posterity among Tully's six books De Republica, to the last of which it originally belonged, perhaps it would have been overlooked and neglected. But being preserved and illustrated with a prolix commentary by Macrobius, it quickly attracted the attention of readers who were fond of the marvellous, and with whom Macrobius was a more admired classic than Tully. It was printed [at Venice] subjoined to Tully's Offices, in [1470]. It was translated into Greek by Maximus Planudes, and is frequently [i. e. four times] quoted by Chaucer.... Nor is it improbable that not only the form, but the first idea, of Dante's Inferno was suggested by this apologue.' The other allusions to it in Chaucer are in the Nonnes Prestes Tale, B 4314; Book of the Duchesse, 284; Ho. of Fame, 514. [506]See also l. 111 below, where Macrobie is expressly mentioned. In the E. version of the Romance of the Rose, l. 7, he is called Macrobes.

Aurelius Theodosius Macrobius, about A.D. 400, not only preserved for us Cicero's Somnium Scipionis, but wrote a long commentary on it in two books, and a work called Saturnalia in seven books. The commentary is not very helpful, and discusses collateral questions rather than the dream itself.

32. Chaucer's MS. copy was, it appears, divided into seven chapters. A printed copy now before me is divided into nine chapters. As given in an edition of Macrobius printed in 1670, it is undivided. The treatise speaks, as Chaucer says, of heaven, hell, and earth, and men's souls. It recalls the tale of Er, in Plato's Republic, bk. x.

35. The grete, the substance. Accordingly, in the next seven stanzas, we have a fair summary of the general contents of the Somnium Scipionis. I quote below such passages as approach most closely to Chaucer's text.

36. Scipioun, i. e. P. Cornelius Scipio Æmilianus Africanus Minor, the hero of the third Punic War. He went to Africa in B.C. 150 to meet Masinissa, King of Numidia, who had received many favours from Scipio Africanus Major in return for his fidelity to the Romans. Hence Masinissa received the younger Africanus joyfully, and so much was said about the elder Africanus that the younger one dreamt about him after the protracted conversation was over, and all had retired to rest. The younger Africanus was the grandson, by adoption, of the elder.

'Cum in Africam venissem, ... nihil mihi potius fuit, quam ut Masinissam convenirem ... Ad quem ut veni, complexus me senex collacrymavit ... multisque verbis ... habitis, ille nobis consumptus est dies ... me ... somnus complexus est ... mihi ... Africanus se ostendit'; &c.

43. 'Ostendebat autem Carthaginem de excelso, et pleno stellarum ... loco ... tu eris unus, in quo nitatur civitatis salus, &c.... Omnibus qui patriam conservârint, adiuverint, auxerint, certum esse in cælo definitum locum, ubi beati ævo sempiterno fruantur.'

50. 'Quæsivi tamen, viveretne ipse et Paullus pater et alii, quos nos exstinctos arbitraremur. Immo vero, inquit, ii vivunt ... vestra vero, quæ dicitur vita, mors est ... corpore laxati ilium incolunt locum, quem vides. Erat autem is splendissimo candore inter flammas circus elucens, quem vos, ut a Graiis accepistis, orbem lacteum nuncupatis.'

57. 'Stellarum autem globi terræ magnitudinem facile vincebant. Iam ipsa terra ita mihi parva visa est, &c.... Novem tibi orbibus, vel potius globis, connexa sunt omnia ... Hic, inquam, quis est, qui complet aures meas, tantus et tam dulcis sonus? ... impulsu et motu ipsorum orbium conficitur.'

59. The 'nine spheres' are the spheres of the seven planets (Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn), that of the fixed stars, and the primum mobile; see notes to the Treatise on the Astrolabe, part 1, § 17, in vol. iii. [507]

61. This is an allusion to the so-called 'harmony of the spheres.' Chaucer makes a mistake in attributing this harmony to all of the nine spheres. Cicero plainly excludes the primum mobile, and says that, of the remaining eight spheres, two sound alike, so that there are but seven tones made by their revolution. 'Ille autem octo cursus, in quibus eadem vis est duorum, septem efficiunt distinctos intervallis sonos.' He proceeds to notice the peculiar excellence of the number seven. By the two that sounded alike, the spheres of Saturn and the fixed stars must be meant; in fact, it is usual to ignore the sphere of fixed stars, and consider only those of the seven planets. Macrobius, in his Commentary, lib. ii. c. 4, quite misses this point, and clumsily gives the same note to Venus and Mercury. Each planetary sphere, in its revolution, gives out a different note of the gamut, so that all the notes of the gamut are sounded; and the result is, that the 'music of the spheres' cannot be heard at all, just as the dwellers by the cataract on the Nile fail to hear the sound of its fall. 'Hoc sonitu oppletæ aures hominum obsurduerunt; nec est ullus hebetior sonus in vobis; sicut ubi Nilus ad illa, quæ Catadupa κατάδουποι nominantur, præcipitat ex altissimis montibus, ea gens, quæ illum locum accolit, propter magnitudinem sonitus, sensu audiendi caret.' Macrobius tries to explain it all in his Commentary, lib. ii. c. 1-4. The fable arose from a supposed necessary connection between the number of the planets and the number of musical notes in the scale. It breaks down when we know that the number of the planets is more than seven. Moreover, modern astronomy has exploded the singular notion of revolving hollow concentric spheres, to the surface of which each planet was immoveably nailed. These 'spheres' have disappeared, and their music with them, except in poetry.

Shakespeare so extends the old fable as to give a voice to every star. See Merch. of Venice, v. 60:—

The notion of the music of the spheres was attributed to Pythagoras. It is denied by Vincent of Beauvais, Speculum Naturale, lib. xv. c. 32—Falsa opinio de concentu cæli. Vincent puts the old idea clearly—'Feruntur septem planetæ, et hi septem orbes (vt dicitur) cum dulcissima harmonia mouentur, ac suauissimi concentus eorum circumitione efficiuntur. Qui sonus ad aures nostras ideo non peruenit, quia vltra ærem fit':—a sufficient reason. He attributes the notion to the Pythagoreans and the Jews, and notes the use of the phrase 'concentum cæli' in Job xxxviii. 37, where our version has 'the bottles of heaven,' which the Revised Version retains. Cf. also—'Cum me laudarent simul astra matutina'; Job xxxviii. 7.

Near the end of Chaucer's Troilus, v. 1811, we have the singular passage:— [508]

This passage, by the way, is a translation from Boccaccio, Teseide, xi. 1. Cf. Rom. de la Rose, 17151-5.

See also Longfellow's poem on the Occultation of Orion, where the poet (heretically but sensibly) gives the lowest note to Saturn, and the highest to the Moon; whereas Macrobius says the contrary; lib. ii. c. 4.

A. Neckam (De Naturis Rerum, lib. i. c. 15) seems to say that the sound of an eighth sphere is required to make up the octave.

64. 'Sentio, inquit, te sedem etiam nunc hominum ac domum contemplari: quæ si tibi parva, ut est, ita videtur, hæc cælestia semper spectato; illa humana contemnito.... Cum autem ad idem, unde semel profecta sunt, cuncta astra redierint, eandemque totius anni descriptionem longis intervallis retulerint, tum ille vere vertens annus appellari potest.... Sermo autem omnis ille ... obruitur hominum interitu, et oblivione posteritatis exstinguitur.'

The great or mundane year, according to Macrobius, Comment, lib. 2. c. 11, contained 15,000 common years. In the Roman de la Rose, l. 17,018, Jeun de Meun makes it 36,000 years long; and in the Complaint of Scotland, ed. Murray, p. 33, it is said, on the authority of Socrates, to extend to 37,000 years. It is not worth discussion.

71. 'Ego vero, inquam, o Africane, siquidem bene mentis de patria quasi limes ad cæli aditum patet,' &c. 'Et ille, Tu vero enitere, et sic habeto, non esse te mortalem, sed corpus hoc.... Hanc [naturam] tu exerce in optimis rebus; sunt autem optimæ curæ de salute patriæ: quibus agitatus et exercitatus animus velocius in hanc sedem et domum suam pervolabit.'

78. 'Nam eorum animi, qui se corporis voluptatibus dediderunt,... corporibus elapsi circum terram ipsam volutantur; nec hunc in locum, nisi multis exagitati sæculis, revertuntur.' We have here the idea of purgatory; compare Vergil, Æn. vi.

80. Whirle aboute, copied from volutantur in Cicero; see last note. It is remarkable that Dante has copied the same passage, and has the word voltando; Inf. v. 31-8. Cf. 'blown with restless violence round about The pendent world'; Meas. for Meas. iii. 1. 125; and 'The sport of winds'; Milton, P.L. iii. 493.

85. Imitated from Dante, Inf. ii. 1-3 (with which cf. Æneid, ix. 224). Cary's translation has—

90. 'I had what I did not want,' i. e. care and heaviness. 'And I had not what I wanted,' i. e. my desires. Not a personal reference, but borrowed from Boethius, bk. iii. pr. 3; see vol. ii. p. 57, l. 24. [509]Moreover, the same idea is repeated, but in clearer language, in the Complaint to his Lady, ll. 47-49 (p. 361); and again, in the Complaint to Pity, ll. 99-104 (p. 276).

99. Chaucer discusses dreams elsewhere; see Ho. of Fame, 1-52; Nonne Prestes Tale, 76-336; Troil. v. 358. Macrobius, Comment. in Somn. Scipionis, lib. i. c. 3, distinguishes five kinds of dreams, giving the name ἐνύπνιον to the kind of which Chaucer here speaks. 'Est enim ἐνύπνιον quotiens oppressi animi corporisve sive fortunæ, qualis vigilantem fatigaverat, talem se ingerit dormienti: animi, si amator deliciis suis aut fruentem se videat aut carentem: ... corporis, si ... esuriens cibum aut potum sitiens desiderare, quærere, vel etiam invenisse videatur,' &c. But the real original of this stanza (as shewn by Prof. Lounsbury) is to be found in Claudian, In Sextum Consulatum Honorii Augusti Præfatio, ll. 3-10.

Cf. Vincent of Beauvais, lib. xxvi. c. 62 and c. 63; Batman upon Bartholome, lib. vi. c. 27, ed. 1582, fol. 84. And see the famous passage in Romeo and Juliet, i. 4. 53; especially ll. 70-88. The Roman de la Rose begins with remarks concerning dreams; and again, at l. 18564, there is a second passage on the same subject, with a reference to Scipio, and a remark about dreaming of things that occupy the mind (l. 18601).

111. 'Of which Macrobius recked (thought) not a little.' In fact, Macrobius concludes his commentary with the words—'Vere igitur pronunciandum est nihil hoc opere perfectius, quo universa philosophiæ continetur integritas.'

114. In the Roman de la Rose, 15980, Venus speaks of her bow (F. arc) and her firebrand or torch (brandon). Cf. Merch. Tale, E 1777.

117. 'As surely as I saw thee in the north-north-west.' He here refers to the planet Venus. As this planet is never more than 47° from the sun, the sun must have been visible to the north of the west point at sunset; i. e. the poem must have been written in the summer-time. The same seems to be indicated by l. 21 (the longe day), and still more clearly by ll. 85-88; Chaucer would hardly have gone to bed at [510]sunset in the winter-time. It is true that he dreams about Saint Valentine's day, but that is quite another matter. Curiously enough, the landscape seen in his dream is quite a summer landscape; see ll. 172, 184-210.

122. Grene stone, mossy or moss-covered stone; an expression copied by Lydgate, Complaint of the Black Knight, l. 42.

Prof. Hales, in the Gent. Magazine, April, 1882, has an interesting article on 'Chaucer at Woodstock.' He shews that there was a park there, surrounded by a stone wall; and that Edward III. often resided at Woodstock, where the Black Prince was born. It is possible that Chaucer was thinking of Woodstock when writing the present passage. See the account of Woodstock Palace in Abbeys, Castles, &c. by J. Timbs; vol. ii. But Dr. Köppel has shewn (Anglia, xiv. 234) that Chaucer here partly follows Boccaccio's poem, Amorosa Visione, ii. 1-35, where we find 'un muro antico.' So also the Roman de la Rose has an allusion to Scipio's dream, and the following lines (129-131, p. 99, above):—

See also l. 134. The gate is the entrance into Love, which is to some a blessing, and to some a curse; see ll. 158, 159. Thus men gon is, practically, equivalent to 'some men go'; and so in l. 134. The idea is utterly different from that of the two gates in Vergil, Æn. vi. 893. The successful lover finds 'the well of Favour,' l. 129. The unsuccessful one encounters the deadly wounds caused by the spear (or dart) guided to his heart by Disdain and Power-to-harm (Daunger); for him, the opened garden bears no fruit, and the alluring stream leads him only to a fatal weir, wherein imprisoned fish are left lying dry.

140. 'Avoiding it is the only remedy.' This is only another form of a proverb which also occurs as 'Well fights he who well flies.' See Proverbs of Hending (in Spec. of English), l. 77; Owl and Nightingale, l. 176. Sir T. Wiat has—'The first eschue is remedy alone'; Spec. of Eng. Part III. p. 235. Probably from the Roman de la Rose, l. 16818—'Sol foïr en est medicine.' (O.F. foir = Lat. fugere.)

141. The alluring message (ll. 127-133) was written in gold; the forbidding one (ll. 134-140) in black; see Anglia, xiv. 235. [511]

142. A stounde, for a while (rightly); the reading astonied is to be rejected. The attitude is one of deliberation.

148. An adamant was, originally, a diamond; then the name was transferred to the loadstone; lastly, the diamond was credited with the properties of the loadstone. Hence we find, at the end of ch. 14 of Mandeville's Travels, this remarkable experiment:—'Men taken the Ademand, that is the Schipmannes Ston, that drawethe the Nedle to him, and men leyn the Dyamand upon the Ademand, and leyn the Nedle before the Ademand; and yif the Dyamand be good and vertuous, the Ademand drawethe not the Nedle to him, whils the Dyamand is there present.' Cf. A. Neckam, De Naturis Rerum, lib. ii. c. 98, where the story is told of an iron statue of Mahomet, which, being surrounded by adamants (lapides adamantini), hangs suspended in the air. The modern simile is that of a donkey between two bundles of hay. For adamaunt, see Rom. of the Rose, 1182 (p. 142).

159. Servant was, so to speak, the old technical term for a lover; cf. serveth, Kn. Tale, 2220, 2228 (A 3078, 3086); and servant in the same, 956 (A 1814); and in Two Gent, of Verona, ii. 1. 106, 114, 140, &c.

176. Imitated by Spenser, F. Q. i. 1. 8, 9. Chaucer's list of trees was suggested by a passage in the Teseide, xi. 22-24; but he extended his list by help of one in the Roman de la Rose, 1338-1368; especially ll. 1363-8, as follows (see p. 151, above)—

Here ormes are elms; charmes, horn-beams; fos, beeches; codres, hasels; trembles, aspens; chesnes, oaks; erables, maples; sapins, firs; fresnes, ashes. Hence this list contains seven kinds of trees out of Chaucer's thirteen. See also the list of 21 trees in Kn. Tale, A 2921. Spenser has—

This tree-list is, in fact, a great curiosity. It was started by Ovid, Metam. x. 90; after whom, it appears in Seneca, Œdipus, 532; in [512]Lucan, Phars. iii. 440; in Statius, Thebaid, vi. 98; and in Claudian, De Raptu Proserpinae, ii. 107. Statius was followed by Boccaccio, Tes. xi. 22-24; Rom. de la Rose, 1361; Chaucer (twice); Tasso, Gier. Lib. iii. 73; and Spenser. Cf. Vergil, Æn. vi. 179.

'The reader will observe the life and spirit which the personification of the several trees gives to this catalogue. It is common in French, even in prose; as, for instance, the weeping willow is le saule pleureur, the weeper willow. The oak is called builder, because no other wood was used in building in this country in the middle ages, as may be seen in our old churches and farm-houses, in which the stairs are often made of solid blocks of the finest oak.'—Bell.

177. 'The elm is called piler, perhaps because it is planted as a pillar of support to the vine [cf. Spenser's 'vine-prop elme']; and cofre unto careyne because coffins for carrion or corpses were [and are] usually made of elm.'—Bell. In fact, Ovid has 'amictae uitibus ulmi,' Met. x. 100; Claudian has 'pampinus induit ulmos'; and Boccaccio—'E l'olmo, che di viti s'innamora'; Tes. xi. 24.

178. Piper, suitable for pipes or horns. 'The box, being a hard, fine-grained wood, was used for making pipes or horns, as in the Nonne Prestes Tale, B 4588—"Of bras they broghten bemes [trumpets] and of box."'—Bell. Boxwood is still used for flutes and flageolets.

Holm to whippes lasshe; 'the holm used for making handles for whip-lashes.'—Bell. Spenser calls it 'The carver holm,' i. e. the holm suitable for carving. It is the holly (A. S. holegn), not the holm-oak.

179. The sayling firr; this 'alludes to the ship's masts and spars being made of fir.'—Bell. 'Apta fretis abies'; Claudian, De Raptu Proserpinae, ii. 107. Spenser substitutes for it 'The sailing pine.' The cipres; 'tumulos tectura cupressus,' in Claudian.

180. The sheter ew. 'The material of our [ancient] national weapon, the bow, was yew. It is said that the old yews which are found in country churchyards were planted in order to supply the yeomanry with bows.'—Bell. Spenser has—'The eugh, obedient to the benders will.'

'The asp is the aspen, or black poplar, of which shafts or arrows were made.'—Bell. Spenser has—'The aspine good for staves'; and 'The birch for shaftes.' See Ascham's Toxophilus, ed. Arber, p. 126.

181. The olive is the emblem of peace; and the palm, of victory. Boccaccio has—'e d'ogni vincitore Premio la palma'; Tes. xi. 24; from Ovid—'uictoris praemia palmae'; Met. x. 102.

182. 'The laurel (used) for divination,' or 'to divine with.' 'Venturi praescia laurus'; Claudian, de Raptu Proserpinae, ii. 109. It was 'sacred to Apollo; and its branches were the decoration of poets, and of the flamens. The leaves, when eaten, were said to impart the power of prophesying; Tibull. 2. 5. 63; Juvenal, 7. 19.'—Lewis and Short's Lat. Dict., s.v. laurus. [513]

183. In a note to Cant. Tales, l. 1920, Tyrwhitt says—'Chaucer has [here] taken very little from Boccace, as he had already inserted a very close imitation of this part of the Teseide in his Assemblee of Foules, from verse 183 to verse 287.' In fact, eleven stanzas (183-259) correspond to Boccaccio's Teseide, Canto vii. st. 51-60; the next three stanzas (260-280) to the same, st. 63-66; and the next two (281-294) to the same, st. 61, 62. See the whole extract from Boccaccio, given and translated in the Introduction; see p. 68, above.

On the other hand, this passage in Chaucer is imitated in the Kingis Quair, st. 31-33, 152, 153; and ll. 680-9 are imitated in the same, st. 34.

214. According to Boccaccio, the name of Cupid's daughter was Voluttade (Pleasure). In the Roman de la Rose, ll. 913, 927 (Eng. version, 923, 939), Cupid has two bows and ten arrows.

218. This company answer to Boccaccio's Grace, Adornment, Affability, Courtesy, Arts (plural), Vain Delight, and Gentleness. Instead of Craft, Boccaccio speaks of 'the Arts that have power to make others perforce do folly, in their aspect much disfigured.' Hypocritical Cajolery seems to be intended. Cf. 'Charmes and Force'; Kn. Tale, 1069 (A 1927).

225. Ed. 1561 has with a nice atire, but wrongly; for compare Boccaccio. Cf. Kn. Tale, 1067-9 (A 1925-7).

228. Messagerye and Mede represents the sending of messages and giving of bribes. For this sense of Mede, see P. Plowman, C. iv. (or B. iii.). The other three are Audacity (too forward Boldness), Glozings (Flatteries), and Pimps; all of bad reputation, and therefore not named. Boccaccio's words are—'il folle Ardire Con Lusinghe e Ruffiani.'

231. Bras, brass. Boccaccio has rame, i. e. copper, the metal which symbolised Venus; see Can. Yeom. Tale, G 829. In fact, this temple is the very temple of Venus which Chaucer again describes in the Knightes Tale, ll. 1060-1108 (A 1918); which see.

243. Sonde, sand. 'Her [Patience's] chief virtue is quiet endurance in the most insecure and unhopeful circumstances'; Bell.

255. 'The allusion is to the adventure of Priapus, related by Ovid in the Fasti, lib. i. 415'; Bell. The ass, by braying, put Priapus to confusion. [514]

261. But in Kn. Tale, 1082 (A 1940), the porter of Venus is Idleness, as in the Rom. de la Rose, 636 (E. version, 643, at p. 120, above).

272. Valence, explained by Urry as Valentia in Spain. But perhaps it may refer to Valence, near Lyons, in France; as Lyons is especially famous for the manufacture of silks, and there is a considerable trade in silks at Valence also. Probably 'thin silk' is here meant. Boccaccio merely speaks of 'texture so thin,' or, in the original 'Testa, tanto sottil,' which accounts for Chaucer's 'subtil.' Coles's Dict. (1684) gives: 'Valence,-tia, a town in Spain, France, and Milan.' In the Unton Inventories, for the years 1596 and 1620, ed. J. G. Nichols, I find: 'one covering for a fielde bedde of green and valens,' p. 4; 'one standinge bedsteed with black velvett testern, black vallance fringed and laced,' p. 21; 'one standinge bed with yellow damaske testern and vallence,' p. 21; 'vallance frindged and laced,' p. 22; 'one bedsteed and testern, and valance of black velvett,' p. 22; 'one bedsteed ... with vallance imbroydered with ash couler,' p. 23; 'one bedsteed, with ... vallance of silke,' p. 29. It is the mod. E. valance, and became a general term for part of the hangings of a bed; Shakespeare has 'Valance of Venice gold,' spelt Vallens in old editions, Tam. Shrew, ii. 1. 356. Spenser imitates this passage, F. Q. ii. 12.77.

275. Compare the well-known proverb—'sine Cerere et Libero friget Venus'; Terence, Eun. 2. 3. 4.

277. Read Cipryde, not Cupide; for in l. 279 we have hir twice, once in the sense of 'their,' but secondly in the sense of 'her.' Boccaccio also here speaks of Venus, and refers to the apple which she won from Paris. Cipride is regularly formed from the accus. of Cypris (gen. Cypridis), an epithet of Venus due to her worship in Cyprus. Chaucer found the genitive Cypridis in Alanus de Planctu Naturæ (ed. Wright, p. 438); see note to l. 298. Cf. 'He curseth Ceres, Bacus, and Cipryde'; Troilus, v. 208.

281. The best way of scansion is perhaps to read despyt-e with final e, preserved by cæsura, and to pronounce Diane as Dián'. So in Kn. Tale, 1193 (A 2051), which runs parallel with it.

283. Maydens; of these Callisto was one (so says Boccaccio); and this is Chaucer's Calixte (l. 286), and his Calístopee in the Kn. Tale, l. 1198 (A 2056). She was the daughter of the Arcadian king Lycaon, and mother of Arcas by Jupiter; changed by Juno, on account of jealousy, into a she-bear, and then raised to the heavens by Jupiter in the form of the constellation Helice or Ursa Major; see Ovid, Fasti, ii. 156; Metamorph. ii. 401; &c. (Lewis and Short).

286. Athalaunte, Atalanta. There were two of this name; the one here meant (see Boccaccio) was the one who was conquered in a foot-race by the lover who married her; see Ovid, Metam. x. 565. The other, who was beloved by Meleager, and hunted the Calydonian boar, is the one mentioned in the Kn. Tale, A 2070; see Ovid, Metam. [515]viii. 318. It is clear that Chaucer thought, at the time, that they were one and the same.

287. I wante, I lack; i. e. I do not know. Boccaccio here mentions the mother of Parthenopæus, whose name Chaucer did not know. She was the other Atalanta, the wife of Meleager; and Boccaccio did not name her, because he says 'that other proud one,' meaning the other proud one of the same name. See the story in Dryden; tr. of Ovid's Metamorphoses, bk. viii. Cf. Troilus, v. 1473.

288. Boccaccio only mentions 'the spouse of Ninus,' i. e. Semiramis, the great queen of Assyria, Thisbe and Pyramus, 'Hercules in the lap of Iole,' and Byblis. The rest Chaucer has added. Compare his lists in Prol. to Leg. of Good Women, 250, and in Cant. Tales, Group B, 63; see the note. See the Legend for the stories of Dido, Thisbe and Pyramus, and Cleopatra. Paris, Achilles, Troilus, and Helen are all mentioned in his Troilus; and Hercules in Cant. Ta., B 3285.

Candace is mentioned again at p. 410, above, l. 16. There was a Candace, queen of Meroë, mentioned by Pliny, vi. 29; and there is the Candace in the Acts of the Apostles, viii. 27. But the Candace of fiction was an Indian queen, who contrived to get into her power no less a person than the world's conqueror, Alexander the Great. See King Alisaunder, ed. Weber, l. 7646, and the Wars of Alexander, ed. Skeat, l. 5314. It is probable that Candace was sometimes confused with the Canace of Ovid's Heroides, Epist. xi. (wholly translated by Dryden). In fact, we have sufficient proof of this confusion; for one MS. reads Candace in the Legend of Good Women, 265, where five other MSS. have Canace or Canacee. Biblis is Byblis, who fell in love with Caunus, and, being repulsed, was changed into a fountain; Ovid, Metam. ix. 452.

Tristram and Isoude are the Tristran (or Tristan) and Ysolde (or Ysolt) of French medieval romance; cf. Ho. Fame, 1796, and Balade to Rosemounde, l. 20. Gower, in his Conf. Amantis, bk. 8 (ed. Pauli, iii. 359) includes Tristram and Bele Isolde in his long list of lovers, and gives an outline of the story in the same, bk. 6 (iii. 17). Ysolde was the wife of King Mark of Cornwall, and the mistress of her nephew Sir Tristram, of whom she became passionately enamoured from having drunk a philter by mistake; see Wheeler, Noted Names of Fiction, s. v. Isolde. The Romance of Sir Tristram was edited by Sir W. Scott, and has been re-edited by Kölbing, and by G. P. McNeill (for the Scottish Text Society). The name Ysoude constantly misprinted Ysonde, even by the editors. Chaucer mentions her again; see Leg. G. Women, 254; Ho. of Fame, 1796.

292. Silla, Scylla; daughter of Nisus, of Megara, who, for love of Minos, cut off her father's hair, upon which his life depended, and was transformed in consequence into the bird Ciris; see Ovid, Metam. viii. 8. Another Scylla was changed by Circe into a sea-monster; Ovid, Metam. xiv. 52. Their stories shew that the former is meant; see Leg. of Good Women, 1910, and the note. [516]

Moder of Romulus, Ilia (also called Rhæa Silvia), daughter of Numitor, dedicated to Vesta, and buried alive for breaking her vows; see Livy, bk. 1; Verg. Æn. i. 274.

298. This quene is the goddess Nature (l. 303). We now come to a part of the poem where Chaucer makes considerable use of the work which he mentions in l. 316, viz. the Planctus Naturæ (Complaint of Nature) by Alanus de Insulis, or Alein Delille, a poet and divine of the 12th century. This work is printed in vol. ii. of T. Wright's edition of the Anglo-Latin Satirical Poets (Record Series), which also contains the poem called Anticlaudianus, by the same author. The description of the goddess is given at great length (pp. 431-456), and at last she declares her name to be Natura (p. 456). This long description of Nature and of her vesture is a very singular one; indeed, all the fowls of the air are supposed to be depicted upon her wonderful garments (p. 437). Chaucer substitutes a brief description of his own, and represents the birds as real live ones, gathering around her; which is much more sensible. For the extracts from Alanus, see the Introduction, p. 74. As Prof. Morley says (Eng. Writers, v. 162)—'Alain describes Nature's changing robe as being in one of its forms so ethereal that it is like air, and the pictures on it seem to the eye a Council of Animals (Animalium Concilium). Upon which, beginning, as Chaucer does, with the Eagle and the Falcon, Alain proceeds with a long list of the birds painted on her transparent robe, that surround Nature as in a council, and attaches to each bird the most remarkable point in its character.' Professor Hales, in The Academy, Nov. 19, 1881, quoted the passages from Alanus which are here more or less imitated, and drew attention to the remarkable passage in Spenser's F. Q. bk. vii. c. 7. st. 5-10, where that poet quotes and copies Chaucer. Dunbar imitates Chaucer in his Thrissill and Rois, and describes Dame Nature as surrounded by beasts, birds, and flowers; see stanzas 10, 11, 18, 26, 27 of that poem.

309. Birds were supposed to choose their mates on St. Valentine's day (Feb. 14); and lovers thought they must follow their example, and then 'choose their loves.' Mr. Douce thinks the custom of choosing valentines was a survival from the Roman feast of the Lupercalia. See the articles in Brand, Pop. Antiq. i. 53; Chambers, Book of Days, i. 255; Alban Butler, Lives of Saints, Feb. 14; &c. The custom is alluded to by Lydgate, Shakespeare, Herrick, Pepys, and Gay; and in the Paston Letters, ed. Gairdner, iii. 169, is a letter written in Feb. 1477, where we find: 'And, cosyn, uppon Fryday is Sent Volentynes Day, and every brydde chesyth hym a make.' See also the Cuckoo and Nyghtingale, l. 80.

316. Aleyn, Alanus de Insulis; Pleynt of Kynde, Complaint of [517]Nature, Lat. Planctus Naturæ; see note to l. 298. Chaucer refers us to Aleyn's description on account of its unmerciful length; it was hopeless to attempt even an epitome of it. Lydgate copies this passage; see Political, Religious and Love Poems, ed. Furnivall, p. 45, l. 17; or his Minor Poems, ed. Halliwell, p. 47.

323. Foules of ravyne, birds of prey. Chaucer's division of birds into birds of prey, birds that eat worms and insects, water-fowl, and birds that eat seeds, can hardly be his own. In Vincent of Beauvais, lib. xvi. c. 14, Aristotle is cited as to the food of birds:—'quædam comedunt carnem, quædam grana, quædam utrumque; ... quædam vero comedunt vermes, vt passer.... Vivunt et ex fructu quædam aues, vt palumbi, et turtures. Quædam viuunt in ripis aquarum lacuum, et cibantur ex eis.'

330. Royal; because he is often called the king of birds, as in Dunbar's Thrissill and Rois, st. 18. Vincent of Beauvais, Spec. Nat., lib. xvi. c. 32, quotes from Iorath (sic):—'Aquila est auis magna regalis.' And Philip de Thaun, Bestiary, 991 (in Wright's Pop. Treatises, p. 109) says:—'Egle est rei de oisel.... En Latine raisun clerveant le apellum, Ke le solail verat quant il plus cler serat.'

331. See the last note, where we learn that the eagle is called in Latin 'clear-seeing,' because 'he will look at the sun when it will be brightest.' This is explained at once by the remarkable etymology given by Isidore (cited by Vincent, as above), viz.:—'Aqu-ila ab acumine oculorum vocata est.'

332. Pliny, Nat. Hist. bk. x. c. 3, enumerates six kinds of eagles, which Chaucer leaves us to find out; viz. Melænaetos, Pygargus, Morphnos, which Homer (Il. xxiv. 316) calls perknos, Percnopterus, Gnesios (the true or royal eagle), and Haliæetos (osprey). This explains the allusion in l. 333.

334. Tyraunt. This epithet was probably suggested by the original text in Alanus, viz.—'Illic ancipiter [accipiter], civitatis præfectus aeriæ, violenta tyrannide a subditis redditus exposcebat.' Sir Thopas had a 'grey goshauk'; C. T., Group B, 1928.

337. See note on the faucon peregrin, Squi. Tale, 420 (F 428). 'Beautifully described as "distreining" the king's hand with its foot, because carried by persons of the highest rank'; Bell. Read, 'with 's feet.'

339. Merlion, merlin. 'The merlin is the smallest of the long-winged hawks, and was generally carried by ladies'; Bell.

342. From Alanus (see p. 74):—'Illic olor, sui funeris præco, mellitæ citherizationis organo vitæ prophetabat apocopam.' The same idea is mentioned by Vincent of Beauvais, Spec. Nat. lib. xvi. c. 50; Pliny says he believes the story to be false, Nat. Hist. lib. x. c. 23. See Compl. of Anelida, l. 346. 'The wild swan's death-hymn'; Tennyson, The Dying Swan. Cf. Ovid, Heroid. vii. 2.

343. From Alanus:—'Illic bubo, propheta miseriæ, psalmodias funereæ lamentationis præcinebat.' So in the Rom. de la Rose, 5999:— [518]

Cf. Vergil, Æn. iv. 462; Ovid, Metam. v. 550, whence Chaucer's allusion in Troilus, v. 319; Shakespeare, Mid. Nt. D. v. 385.

344. Geaunt, giant. Alanus has:—'grus ... in giganteæ quantitatis evadebat excessum.' Vincent (lib. xvi. c. 91) quotes from Isidore:—'Grues nomen de propria voce sumpserunt, tali enim sono susurrant.'

345. 'The chough, who is a thief.' From Alanus, who has:—'Illic monedula, latrocinio laudabili reculas thesaurizans, innatæ avaritiæ argumenta monstrabat.' 'It was an old belief in Cornwall, according to Camden (Britannia, tr. by Holland, 1610, p. 189) that the chough was an incendiary, "and thievish besides; for oftentimes it secretly conveieth fire-sticks, setting their houses a-fire, and as closely filcheth and hideth little pieces of money."'—Prov. Names of Brit. Birds, by C. Swainson, p. 75. So also in Pliny, lib. x. c. 29, choughs are called thieves. Vincent of Beauvais quotes one of Isidore's delicious etymologies:—'Monedula dicitur quasi mone-tula, quæ cum aurum inuenit aufert et occultat'; i. e. from monetam tollere. 'The Jackdaw tribe is notoriously given to pilfering'; Stanley, Hist. of Birds, ed. 1880, p. 203.

Iangling, talkative; so Alanus:—'Illic pica... curam logices perennabat insomnem.' So in Vincent—'pica loquax'—'pica garrula,' &c.; and in Pliny, lib. x. c. 42.

346. Scorning, 'applied to the jay, probably, because it follows and seems to mock at the owl, whenever the latter is so unfortunate as to be caught abroad in the daylight; for this reason, a trap for jays is always baited with a live owl'; Bell.

'The heron will stand for hours in the shallow water watching for eels'; Bell. Vincent quotes from Isidore:—'Ciconeæ ... serpentium hostes.' So also A. Neckam, De Naturis Rerum, lib. i. c. 64:—'Ranarum et locustarum et serpentum hostis est.'

347. Trecherye, trickery, deceit. 'During the season of incubation, the cock-bird tries to draw pursuers from the nest by wheeling round them, crying and screaming, to divert their attention ... while the female sits close on the nest till disturbed, when she runs off, feigning lameness, or flaps about near the ground, as if she had a broken wing; cf. Com. Errors, iv. 2. 27; Much Ado, iii. 1. 24;' Prov. Names of Brit. Birds, by C. Swainson, p. 185. And cf. 'to seem the lapwing and to jest, Tongue far from heart'; Meas. for Meas. i. 4. 32.

348. Stare, starling. As the starling can speak, there is probably 'an allusion to some popular story like the Manciple's Tale, in which a talking starling betrays a secret'; Bell. The same story is in Ovid, Metam. bk. ii. 535; and in Gower, Conf. Amant. bk. iii. 'Germanicus and Drusus had one stare, and sundry nightingales, taught to parle Greeke and Latine'; Holland's Pliny, bk. x. c. 42. In the Seven Sages, ed. Weber, p. 86, the bird who 'bewrays counsel' is a magpie. [519]

349. Coward kyte. See Squi. Tale, F 624; and note. 'Miluus ... fugatur a niso, quamuis in triplo sit maior illo'; Vincent of Beauvais, lib. xvi. c. 108. 'A kite is ... a coward, and fearefull among great birds'; Batman on Bartholomè, lib. xii. c. 26.

350. Alanus has:—'Illic gallus, tanquam vulgaris astrologus, suæ vocis horologio horarum loquebatur discrimina.' Cf. Nonne Prestes Tale, B 4044. We also see whence Chaucer derived his epithet of the cock—'common astrologer'—in Troilus, iii. 1415. Tusser, in his Husbandry, ed. Payne, § 74, says the cock crows—'At midnight, at three, and an hower ere day.' Hence the expressions 'first cock' in K. Lear, iii. 4. 121, and 'second cock' in Macbeth, ii. 3. 27.

351. The sparrow was sacred to Venus, from its amatory disposition (Meas. for Meas. iii. 2. 185). In the well-known song from Lyly's Alexander and Campaspe, Cupid 'stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, His Mother's doves, and team of sparrows; 'Songs from the Dramatists, ed. R. Bell, p. 50.

352. Cf. Holland's Pliny, bk. x. c. 29—'The nightingale ... chaunteth continually, namely, at that time as the trees begin to put out their leaues thicke.'

353. 'Nocet autem apibus sola inter animalia carnem habentia et carnem comedentia'; Vincent of Beauvais, De hyrundine; Spec. Nat. lib. xvi. c. 17. 'Culicum et muscarum et apecularum infestatrix'; A. Neckam, De Naturis Rerum (De Hirundine), lib. i. c. 52. 'Swallowes make foule worke among them,' &c.; Holland's Pliny, bk. xi. c. 18. Cf. Vergil, Georg. iv. 15; and Tennyson, The Poet's Song, l. 9.

Flyes, i. e. bees. This, the right reading (see footnote), occurs in two MSS. only; the scribes altered it to foules or briddes!

355. Alanus has:—'Illic turtur, suo viduata consorte, amorem epilogare dedignans, in altero bigamiæ refutabat solatia.' 'Etiam vulgo est notum turturem et amoris veri prærogativa nobilitari et castitatis titulis donari'; A. Neckam, i. 59. Cf. An Old Eng. Miscellany, ed. Morris, p. 22.

356. 'In many medieval paintings, the feathers of angels' wings are represented as those of peacocks'; Bell. Cf. Dunbar, ed. Small, 174. 14: 'Qhois angell fedderis as the pacok schone.'

357. Perhaps Chaucer mixed up the description of the pheasant in Alanus with that of the 'gallus silvestris, privatioris galli deridens desidiam,' which occurs almost immediately below. Vincent (lib. xvi. c. 72) says:—'Fasianus est gallus syluaticus.' Or he may allude to the fact, vouched for in Stanley's Hist. of Birds, ed. 1880, p. 279, that the Pheasant will breed with the common Hen.

358. 'The Goose likewise is very vigilant and watchfull: witnesse the Capitoll of Rome, which by the means of Geese was defended and saued'; Holland's Pliny, bk. x. c. 22.

Unkinde, unnatural; because of its behaviour to the hedge-sparrow; K. Lear, i. 4. 235.

359. Delicasye, wantonness. 'Auis est luxuriosa nimium, bibitque vinum'; Vincent (quoting from Liber de Naturis Rerum), lib. xvi. c. 135, De Psittaco; and again (quoting from Physiologus)—'cum vino inebriatur.' So in Holland's Pliny, bk. x. c. 42—'She loueth wine well, and when shee hath drunk freely, is very pleasant, plaifull, and wanton.'

360. 'The farmers' wives find the drake or mallard the greatest enemy of their young ducks, whole broods of which he will destroy unless removed.'—Bell. Chaucer perhaps follows the Liber de Naturis Rerum, as quoted in Vincent, lib. xvi. c. 27 (De Anate):—'Mares aliquando cum plures fuerint simul, tanta libidinis insania feruntur, vt fœminam solam ... occidant.'

361. From A. Neckam, Liber de Naturis Rerum (ed. Wright, lib. i. c. 64); cited in Vincent, lib. xvi. c. 48. The story is, that a male stork, having discovered that the female was unfaithful to him, went away; and presently returning with a great many other storks, the avengers tore the criminal to pieces. Another very different story may also be cited. 'The stork is the Embleme of a grateful Man. In which respect Ælian writeth of a storke, which bred on the house of one who had a very beautiful wife, which in her husband's absence used to commit adultry with one of her base servants: which the storke observing, in gratitude to him who freely gave him house-roome, flying in the villaines face, strucke out both his eyes.'—Guillim, Display of Heraldry, sect. iii. c. 19.

In Thynne's Animadversions on Speght's Chaucer, ed. Furnivall, p. 68 (Chau. Soc.), we find:—'for Aristotle sayethe, and Bartholomeus de proprietatibus rerum, li. 12. c. 8, with manye other auctors, that yf the storke by any meanes perceve that his female hath brooked spousehedde, he will no moore dwell with her, but strykethe and so cruelly beateth her, that he will not surcease vntill he hathe killed her yf he maye, to wreake and reuenge that adulterye.' Cf. Batman vppon Bartholome, ed. 1582, leaf 181, col. 2; Stanley, Hist, of Birds, 6th ed. p. 322; and story no. 82 in Swan's translation of the Gesta Romanorum. Many other references are given in Oesterley's notes to the Gesta; and see the Exempla of Jacques de Vitry, ed. Crane (Folklore Soc.), 1890, p. 230. Cf. Skelton's Phyllyp Sparowe, 469-477.

362. 'The voracity of the cormorant has become so proverbial, that a greedy and voracious eater is often compared to this bird'; Swainson, Prov. Names of British Birds, p. 143. See Rich. II, ii. 1. 38.

363. Wys; because it could predict; it was therefore consecrated to Apollo; see Lewis and Short, s. v. corvus. Care, anxiety; hence, ill luck. 'In folk-lore the crow always appears as a bird of the worst and most sinister character, representing either death, or night, or winter'; Prov. Names of British Birds, by C. Swainson, p. 84; which see.

Chaucer here mistranslates Vergil precisely as Batman does (l. xii. c. 9). [521]'Nunc plena cornix pluuiam uocat improba uoce'; Georg. i. 388. 'That is to vnderstande, Nowe the Crowe calleth rayne with an eleinge voyce'; Batman vppon Bartholome, as above.

364. Olde. I do not understand this epithet; it is usually the crow who is credited with a long life. Frosty; i. e. that is seen in England in the winter-time; called in Shropshire the snow-bird; Swainson's Prov. Names of Brit. Birds, p. 6. The explanation of the phrase 'farewell feldefare,' occurring in Troil. iii. 861 and in Rom. Rose, 5510, and marked by Tyrwhitt as not understood, is easy enough. It simply means—'good bye, and we are well rid of you'; when the fieldfare goes, the warm weather comes.

371. Formel, perhaps 'regular' or 'suitable' companion; as F. formel answers to Lat. formalis. Tyrwhitt's Gloss. says: 'formel is put for the female of any fowl, more especially for a female eagle (ll. 445, 535 below).' It has, however, no connection with female (as he seems to suppose), but answers rather, in sense, to make, i. e. match, fit companion. Godefroy cites the expression 'faucon formel' from L'Aviculaire des Oiseaux de proie (MS. Lyon 697, fol. 221 a). He explains it by 'qui a d'amples formes,' meaning (as I suppose) simply 'large'; which does not seem to be right; though the tercel or male hawk was so called because he was a third less than the female. Ducange gives formelus, and thinks it means 'well trained.'

379. Vicaire, deputy. This term is taken from Alanus, De Planctu Naturæ, as above, where it occurs at least thrice. Thus, at p. 469 of Wright's edition, Nature says:—'Me igitur tanquam sui [Dei] vicariam'; at p. 511—'Natura, Dei gratia mundanæ civitatis vicaria procuratrix'; and at p. 516, Nature is addressed as—'O supracælestis Principis fidelis vicaria!' M. Sandras supposes that Chaucer took the term from the Rom. de la Rose, but it is more likely that Chaucer and Jean de Meun alike took it from Alanus.

Here Nature is supposed to be the speaker. Chaucer again uses vicaire of Nature, Phis. Tale, D 20, which see; and he applies it to the Virgin Mary in his A B C, l. 140. See also Lydgate, Compl. of Black Knight, l. 491.

380. That l. 379 is copied from Alanus is clear from the fact that ll. 380-1 are from the same source. At p. 451 of Wright's edition, we find Nature speaking of the concordant discord of the four elements—'quatuor elementorum concors discordia'—which unites the buildings of the palace of this world—'mundialis regiæ structuras conciliat.' Similarly, she says, the four humours are united in the human body: [522]'quæ qualitates inter elementa mediatrices conveniunt, hæ eædem inter quatuor humores pacis sanciunt firmitatem'; &c.

Compare also Boethius, bk. iii. met. 9. 13, in Chaucer's translation. 'Thou bindest the elements by noumbres proporcionables, that the colde thinges mowen acorden with the hote thinges, and the drye thinges with the moiste thinges; that the fyr, that is purest, ne flee nat over hye, ne that the hevinesse ne drawe nat adoun over-lowe the erthes that ben plounged in the wateres. Thou knittest togider the mene sowle of treble kinde, moeving alle thinges'; &c.

411. It appears that Chaucer and others frequently crush the two words this is into the time of one word only (something like the modern it's for it is). Hence I scan the line thus:—

And frequently elsewhere. In the present case, both this and is are unaccented, which is much harsher than when this bears an accent.

I find that Ten Brink has also noted this peculiarity, in his Chaucers Sprache, § 271. He observes that, in C. T. Group E, 56, the Ellesmere and Hengwrt MSS. actually substitute this for this is; see footnote; and hence note that the correct reading is—'But this his tale, which,' &c. See This in Schmidt, Shak. Lexicon. Cf. l. 620.

485. 'The dispute is here called a plee, or plea, or pleading; and in the next stanza the terms of law, adopted into the Courts of Love, are still more pointedly applied'; Bell.

499. Hye, loudly. Kek kek represents the goose's cackle; and quek is mod. E. quack.

510. 'If it be your wish for any one to speak, it would be as good for him to be silent; it were better to be silent than to talk as you do.' That is, the cuckoo only wants to listen to those who will talk nonsense. A mild rebuke. The turtle explains (l. 514) that it is better to be silent than to meddle with things which one does not understand.

518. Lit. 'A duty assumed without direction often gives offence.' A proverb which appears in other forms. In the Canon's Yeoman's Tale, G 1066, it takes the form—'Profred servyse stinketh'; see note on the line. Uncommitted is not delegated, not entrusted to one. Cotgrave has: 'Commis, assigned, appointed, delegated.'

545. Oure, ours; it is the business of us who are the chosen spokesmen. The Iuge is Nature.

556. Goler in the Fairfax MS. is doubtless merely miswritten for golee, as in Ff.; Caxton turns it into golye, to keep it dissyllabic; the reading gole (in O. and Gg.) also = golee. Godefroy has: 'Golee, goulee, goullee, gulee, geulee, s. f. cri, parole'; and gives several examples. Cotgrave has: 'Goulée, f. a throatfull, or mouthful of, &c.' One of Godefroy's examples gives the phrase—'Et si dirai ge ma goulee,' and so I shall say my say. Chaucer uses the word sarcastically: his large golee = his tedious gabble. Allied to E. gullett, gully.

568. Cf. Cant. Tales, 5851, 5852 (D 269, 270). Lydgate copies this line in his Hors, Shepe, and Goos, l. 155.

574. A common proverb. In the Rom. de la Rose, l. 4750 (E. version, l. 5265), it appears as: 'Nus fox ne scet sa langue taire,' i. e. No fool knows how to hold his tongue. In the Proverbs of Hendyng, it is: 'Sottes bolt is sone shote,' l. 85. In later English, 'A fool's bolt is soon shot'; cf. Henry V, iii. 7. 132, and As You Like It, v. 4. 67. Kemble quotes from MS. Harl. fol. 4—'Ut dicunt multi, cito transit lancea stulti.'

595. Another proverb. We now say—'There's as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it'; or, 'as ever was caught.'

610. Said sarcastically—'Yes! when the glutton has filled his paunch sufficiently, the rest of us are sure to be satisfied!'

Compare the following. 'Certain persones ... saiyng that Demades had now given over to bee sache an haine [niggardly wretch] as he had been in tymes past—"Yea, marie, quoth Demosthenes, for now ye see him full paunched, as lyons are." For Demades was covetous and gredie of money, and indeed the lyons are more gentle when their bealyes are well filled.'—Udall, tr. of Apothegmes of Erasmus; [524]Anecdotes of Demosthenes. The merlin then addresses the cuckoo directly.

613. Read rewtheles (reufulles in Gg); cf. Cant. Ta., B 863; and see p. 361, l. 31. Rewtheles became reufulles, and then rewful.

615. 'For it is no matter as to the lack of thy kind,' i. e. it would not matter, even if the result was the loss of your entire race.

623. Cheest, chooseth; spelt chyest, Ayenbite of Inwyt, p. 126; spelt chest (with long e) in Shoreham's Poems, ed. Wright, p. 109, where it rimes with lest = leseth, i. e. loseth; A. S. císt, Deut. xxviii. 9.

626. Accent favour on the second syllable; as in C. T., Group B, 3881 (Monkes Tale). So (perhaps) colóur-ed in l. 443.

630. 'I have no other (i. e. no wrongful) regard to any rank,' I am no respecter of persons.

640. 'Under your rod,' subject to your correction. So in the Schipmannes Tale, C. T. 13027 (B 1287).

664, 5. 'Whatever may happen afterwards, this intervening course is ready prepared for all of you.'

675. Gower, Conf. Amant, bk. i. (ed. Pauli, i. 134) speaks of 'Roundel, balade, and virelay.' Johnson, following the Dict. de Trevoux, gives a fair definition of the roundel; but I prefer to translate that given by Littré, s. v. rondeau. '1. A short poem, also called triolet, in which the first line or lines recur in the middle and at the end of the piece. Such poems, by Froissart and Charles d'Orleans, are still extant. 2. Another short poem peculiar to French poetry, composed of thirteen lines broken by a pause after the fifth and eighth lines, eight having one rime and five another. The first word or words are repeated after the eighth line and after the last, without forming part of the verse; it will readily be seen that this rondeau is a modification of the foregoing; instead of repeating the whole line, only the first words are repeated, often with a different sense.' The word is here used in the former sense; and the remark in Morley's Eng. Writers (v. 271), that the Roundel consists of thirteen lines, eight having one rime, and five another, is not to the point here, as it relates to the later French rondeau only. An examination of Old French roundels shews us that Littré's definition of the triolet is quite correct, and is purposely left somewhat indefinite; but we can apply a somewhat more exact [525]description to the form of the roundel as used by Machault, Deschamps, and Chaucer.

The form adopted by these authors is the following. First come three lines, rimed abb; next two more, rimed ab, and then the first refrain; then three more lines, rimed abb, followed by the second refrain. Now the first refrain consists of either one, or two, or three lines, being the first line of the poem, or the first two, or the first three; and the second refrain likewise consists of either one, or two, or three lines, being the same lines as before, but not necessarily the same number of them. Thus the whole poem consists of eight unlike lines, three on one rime, and five on another, with refrains of from two to six lines. Sometimes one of the refrains is actually omitted, but this may be the scribe's fault. However, the least possible number of lines is thus reduced to nine; and the greatest number is fourteen. For example, Deschamps (ed. Tarbé) has roundels of nine lines—second refrain omitted—(p. 125); of ten lines (p. 36); of eleven lines (p. 38); of twelve lines (p. 3); and of fourteen lines (pp. 39, 43). But the prettiest example is that by Machault (ed. Tarbé, p. 52), which has thirteen lines, the first refrain being of two, and the second of three lines. And, as thirteen lines came to be considered as the normal length, I here follow this as a model, both here and in 'Merciless Beaute'; merely warning the reader that he may make either of his refrains of a different length, if he pleases.

There is a slight art in writing a roundel, viz. in distributing the pauses. There must be a full stop at the end of the third and fifth lines; but the skilful poet takes care that complete sense can be made by the first line taken alone, and also by the first two lines taken alone. Chaucer has done this.

Todd, in his Illustrations of Chaucer, p. 372, gives a capital example of a roundel by Occleve; this is of full length, both refrains being of three lines, so that the whole poem is of fourteen lines. This is quite sufficient to shew that the definition of a roundel in Johnson's Dictionary (which is copied from the Dict. de Trevoux, and relates to the latter rondeau of thirteen lines) is quite useless as applied to roundels written in Middle English.

677. The note, i. e. the tune. Chaucer adapts his words to a known French tune. The words Qui bien aime, a tard^[290] oublie (he who loves well is slow to forget) probably refer to this tune; though it is not quite clear to me how lines of five accents (normally) go to a tune beginning with a line of four accents. In Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 55, we find:—'Of the rondeau of which the first line is cited in the Fairfax MS., &c., M. Sandras found the music and the words in a MS. of Machault in the National Library, no. 7612, leaf 187. The verses form the opening lines of one of two pieces entitled Le Lay de plour:— [526]

M. Sandras also says (Étude, p. 72) that Eustache Deschamps composed, on this burden slightly modified, a pretty ballad, inedited till M. Sandras printed it at p. 287 of his Étude; and that, a long time before Machault, Moniot de Paris began, by this same line, a hymn to the Virgin that one can read in the Arsenal Library at Paris, in the copy of a Vatican MS., B. L. no. 63, fol. 283:—

In MS. Gg. 4. 27 (Cambridge), there is a poem in 15 8-line stanzas. The latter half of st. 14 ends with:—'Qui bien ayme, tard oublye.'

In fact, the phrase seems to have been a common proverb; see Le Roux de Lincy, ii. 383, 496. It occurs again in Tristan, ed. Michel, ii. 123, l. 700; in Gower, Balade 25 (ed. Stengel, p. 10); in MS. Digby 53, fol. 15, back; MS. Corp. Chr. Camb. 450, p. 258, &c.

693. This last stanza is imitated at the end of the Court of Love, and of Dunbar's Thrissill and Rois.

In the two MSS., this poem is written as if it were a continuation of the Compleint unto Pity. The printed edition of 1651 has this heading—'These verses next folowing were compiled by Geffray Chauser, and in the writen copies foloweth at the ende of the complainte of petee.' This implies that Stowe had seen more than one MS. containing these lines.

However, the poem has nothing to do with the Complaint of Pity; for which reason the lines are here numbered separately, and the title 'A Compleint to his Lady' is supplied, for want of a better.

The poem is so badly spelt in Shirley's MS. (Harl. 78) as quite to obscure its diction, which is that of the fourteenth century. I have therefore re-spelt it throughout, so as to shew the right pronunciation. The Phillipps MS. is merely a copy of the other, but preserves the last stanza.

The printed copy resembles Shirley's MS. so closely, that both seem to have been derived from a common source. But there is a strange and unaccountable variation in l. 100. The MS. here has—'For I am sette on yowe in suche manere'; whilst ed. 1561 has—'For I am set so hy vpon your whele.' The latter reading does not suit the right order of the rimes; but it points to a lost MS. [527]

The poem evidently consists of several fragments, all upon the same subject, of hopeless, but true love.

It should be compared with the Complaint of Pity, the first forty lines of the Book of the Duchess, the Parliament of Foules (ll. 416-441), and the Complaint of Anelida. Indeed, the last of these is more or less founded upon it, and some of the expressions (including one complete line) occur there again.

1. MSS. nightes. This will not scan, nor does it make good sense. Read night; cf. l. 8, and Book of the Duchess, l. 22.

7. Desespaired, full of despair. This, and not dispaired (as in ed. 1561), is the right form. Cf. desespeir, in Troil. i. 605.

14, 15. I repeat this line, because we require a rime to fulfille, l. 17; whilst at the same time l. 14 evidently ends a stanza.

17. I supply he, meaning Love. Love is masculine in l. 42, precisely as in the Parl. of Foules, l. 5.

19. I alter and yit to and fro, to make sense; the verb to arace absolutely requires from or fro; see Clerkes Tale, E 1103, and particularly l. 18 of sect. XXI, where we find the very phrase 'fro your herte arace.' Cf. Troilus, v. 954.

If Fragments II and III were ever joined together, we must suppose that at least five lines have been lost, as I have already shewn in the note to Dr. Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 96.

Thus, after l. 23, ending in asterte, we should require lines ending in -ye, -erse, -ye, -erse, and -ede respectively, to fill the gap. However, I have kept fragments II and III apart, and it is then sufficient to supply three lines. Lines 25 and 26 are from the Compl. of Pite, 22, 17, and from Anelida, 307.

32. I suspect some corruption; MS. Sh. has The wyse eknytte, Ph. has The wise I-knyt, and ed. 1561 has The Wise, eknit. As it stands, it means—'Her surname moreover is the Fair Ruthless one, (or) the Wise one, united with Good Fortune.' Fair Ruthless is a translation of the French phrase La Belle Dame sans Merci, which occurs as the title of a poem once attributed to Chaucer. The Wise one, &c., means that she is wise and fortunate, and will not impair her good fortune by bestowing any thought upon her lover. Shirley often writes e for initial y-.

35. Almost identical with Anelida, 222—'More then myself, an hundred thousand sythe.'

36. Obviously corrupt; neither sound nor sense is good. Read:—'Than al this worldes richest (or riche) creature.' Creature may mean 'created thing.' Or scan by reading world's richéss'.

39. Cf. Kn. Tale, l. 380 (A 1238)—'Wel hath Fortune y-turned thee the dys.' [528]

44. Ed. 1561 also reads In. Perhaps the original reading was Inwith. Moreover, the copies omit eek in l. 45, which I supply.

47-49. This remarkable statement re-appears twice elsewhere; see Parl. Foules, 90, 91, and note; and Compl. of Pite, ll. 99-104.

56. Here a line is missing, as again at l. 59. This appears from the form of the stanza, in which the rimes are arranged in the order a a b a a b c d d c. I supply the lines from Anelida, 181, 182.

79. The MSS. have—'What so I wist that were to youre hyenesse'; where youre hyenesse is absurdly repeated from l. 76. Ed. 1561 has the same error. It is obvious that the right final word is distresse, to be preceded by yow or your; of which I prefer yow.

83. Ch. uses both wille and wil; the latter is, e. g., in Cant. Ta. A 1104. We must here read wil.

88. leveth wel, believe me wholly. MS. Ph. and ed. 1561 wrongly have loveth.

98. I read nil, as being simpler. The MSS. have ne wil, which would be read—'That I n'wil ay'; which comes to much the same thing.

100. set, fixed, bound. Ed. 1561 has—'For I am set so hy vpon your whele,' which disturbs the rimes.

103. MS. Sh. 'As any man can er may on lyue'; ed. 1561 and MS. Ph. have—'As any man can or maye on liue.' It is clear that a final word has been dropped, because the scribe thought the line ought to rime with fyve (l. 98). The dropped word is clearly here, which rimes with manere in the Miller's Prologue, and elsewhere. After here was dropped, man was awkwardly inserted, to fill up the line. Ch. employs here at the end of a line more than thirty times; cf. Kn. Tale, A 1260, 1670, 1711, 1819, &c.

124. My lyf and deeth seems to be in the vocative case. Otherwise, my is an error for in.

133. trouble, troubled. A like use occurs in Boethius, bk. i. met. 7, l. 2. Drope, hope, rime in Troil. i. 939, and Gower, C. A., ii. 286. [529]

This Poem consists of several distinct portions. It begins with a Proem, of three stanzas, followed by a part of the story, in twenty-seven stanzas, all in seven-line stanzas. Next follows the Complaint of Anelida, skilfully and artificially constructed; it consists of a Proem in a single stanza of nine lines; next, what may be called a Strophe, in six stanzas, of which the first four consist of nine lines, the fifth consists of sixteen lines (with only two rimes), and the sixth, of nine lines (with internal rimes). Next follows what may be called an Antistrophe, in six stanzas arranged precisely as before; wound up by a single concluding stanza corresponding to the Proem at the beginning of the Complaint. After this, the story begins again; but the poet had only written one stanza when he suddenly broke off, and left the poem unfinished; see note to l. 357.

The name of Arcite naturally reminds us of the Knightes Tale; but the 'false Arcite' of the present poem has nothing beyond the name in common with the 'true Arcite' of the Tale. However, there are other connecting links, to be pointed out in their due places, which tend to shew that this poem was written before the Knightes Tale, and was never finished; it is also probable that Chaucer actually wrote an earlier draught of the Knightes Tale, with the title of Palamon and Arcite, which he afterwards partially rejected; for he mentions 'The Love of Palamon and Arcite' in the prologue to the Legend of Good Women as if it were an independent work. However this may be, it is clear that, in constructing or rewriting the Knightes Tale, he did not lose sight of 'Anelida,' for he has used some of the lines over again; moreover, it is not a little remarkable that the very lines from Statius which are quoted at the beginning of the fourth stanza of Anelida are also quoted, in some of the MSS., at the beginning of the Knightes Tale.

But this is not all. For Dr. Koch has pointed out the close agreement between the opening stanzas of this poem, and those of Boccaccio's Teseide, which is the very work from which Palamon and Arcite was, of course, derived, as it is the chief source of the Knightes Tale also. Besides this, there are several stanzas from the Teseide in the Parliament of Foules; and even three near the end of Troilus, viz. the seventh, eighth, and ninth from the end of the last book. Hence we should be inclined to suppose that Chaucer originally translated the Teseide rather closely, substituting a seven-line stanza for the ottava rima of the original; this formed the original Palamon and Arcite, a poem which he probably never finished (as his manner was). Not wishing, however, to abandon it altogether, he probably used some of the lines in this present poem, and introduced others into his Parliament of Foules. At a later period, he rewrote, in a complete form, the whole story in his own fashion, which has come down to us as The Knightes Tale. Whatever the right explanation may be, we are at [530]any rate certain that the Teseide is the source of (1) sixteen stanzas in the Parliament of Foules; (2) of part of the first ten stanzas in the present poem; (3) of the original Palamon and Arcite; (4) of the Knightes Tale; and (5) of three stanzas near the end of Troilus, bk. v. 1807-27 (Tes. xi. 1-3).

1. In comparing the first three stanzas with the Teseide, we must reverse the order of the stanzas in the latter poem. Stanza 1 of Anelida answers to st. 3 of the Italian; stanza 2, to st. 2; and stanza 3 to st. 1. The first two lines of lib. 1. st. 3 (of the Italian) are:—

I. e. Be present, O Mars the red, strong and fierce in thy arms (battle-array). For the words Be present, see l. 6.

2. Trace, Thrace. Cf. Kn. Tale, 1114-6 (A 1972-4). Chaucer was here thinking of Statius, Theb. lib. vii. 40, who describes the temple of Mars on Mount Hæmus, in Thrace, which had a frosty climate. In bk. ii, l. 719, Pallas is invoked as being superior to Bellona. Chaucer seems to confuse them; so does Boccaccio, in his De Genealogia Deorum.

Thus it appears that, when speaking of his finding an old story in Latin, he is actually translating from an Italian poem which treats of a story not found in Latin! That is, his words give no indication whatever of the source of his poem; but are merely used in a purely conventional manner. His 'old story' is really that of the siege of Thebes; and his Latin is the Thebais of Statius. And neither of them speaks of Anelida!

Polymnia, Polyhymnia, also spelt Polymnia, Gk. Πολυμνία one of the [531]nine Muses. Chaucer invokes the muse Clio in Troil. bk. ii, and Calliope in bk. iii. Cf. Ho. of Fame, 520-2. Parnaso, Parnassus, a mountain in Phocis sacred to Apollo and the Muses, at whose foot was Delphi and the Castalian spring. Elicon, mount Helicon in Bœotia; Chaucer seems to have been thinking rather of the Castalian spring, as he uses the prep. by, and supposes Elicon to be near Parnaso. See the Italian, as quoted above; and note that, in the Ho. of Fame, 522, he says that Helicon is a well.

17. Cirrea, Cirra. Chaucer was thinking of the adj. Cirræus. Cirra was an ancient town near Delphi, under Parnassus. Dante mentions Cirra, Parad. i. 36; and Parnaso just above, l. 16. Perhaps Chaucer took it from him.

20. A common simile. So Spenser, F. Q. i. 12. 1, 42; and at the end of the Thebaid and the Teseide both.

21. Stace, Statius; i. e. the Thebaid; whence some of the next stanzas are more or less borrowed. Chaucer epitomises the general contents of the Thebaid in his Troilus; v. 1484, &c.

Corinne, not Corinna (as some have thought, for she has nothing to do with the matter), but Corinnus. Corinnus was a disciple of Palamedes, and is said to have written an account of the Trojan War, and of the war of the Trojan king Dardanus against the Paphlagonians, in the Dorian dialect. Suidas asserts that Homer made some use of his writings. See Zedler, Universal Lexicon; and Biog. Universelle. How Chaucer met with this name, is not known. Possibly, however, Chaucer was thinking of Colonna, i. e. Guido di Colonna, author of the medieval Bellum Trojanum. But this does not help us, and it is at least as likely that the name Corinne was merely introduced by way of flourish; for no source has been discovered for the latter part of the poem, which may have been entirely of his own invention. For Palamedes, see Lydgate's Troy-book, bk. v. c. 36.

22. The verses from Statius, preserved in the MSS., are the three lines following; from Thebais, xii. 519:—

The first line and half the second appear also in the MSS. of the Canterbury Tales, at the head of the Knightes Tale, which commences, so to speak, at the same point (l. 765 in Lewis's translation of the Thebaid). Comparing these lines of Statius with the lines in Chaucer, we at once see how he came by the word aspre and the expression With laurer crouned. The whole of this stanza (ll. 22-28) is expanded from the three lines here quoted.

25. Contre-houses, houses of his country, homes (used of Theseus and his army). It exactly reproduces the Lat. domos patrias. See Kn. Tale, 11 (A 869).

29-35. Chaucer merely takes the general idea from Statius, and expands it in his own way. Lewis's translation of Statius has:—

And, just below, is a brief mention of Hippolyta, who had been wedded to Theseus.

Emelye is not mentioned in Statius. She is the Emilia of the Teseide; see lib. ii. st. 22 of that poem.

47. Here we are told that the story is really to begin. Chaucer now returns from Statius (whom he has nearly done with) to the Teseide, and the next three stanzas, ll. 50-70, are more or less imitated from that poem, lib. ii. st. 10-12.

50-6. Boccaccio is giving a sort of summary of the result of the war described in the Thebaid. His words are:—

57. Amphiorax; so in Troilus, ii. 105, v. 1500; Cant. Tales, 6323 (D 741); and in Lydgate's Siege of Thebes. Amphiaraus is meant; [533]he accompanied Polynices, and was swallowed up by the earth during the siege of Thebes; Statius, Thebais, lib. vii. (at the end); Dante, Inf. xx. 34. Tydeus and Polynices married the two daughters of Adrastus. The heroic acts of Tydeus are recorded in the Thebaid. See Lydgate, Siege of Thebes; or the extract from it in my Specimens of English.

58. Ipomedon, Hippomedon; one of the seven chiefs who engaged in the war against Thebes. Parthonopee, Parthenopæus, son of Meleager and Atalanta; another of the seven chiefs. For the account of their deaths, see the Thebaid, lib. ix.

59. Campaneus; spelt Cappaneus, Capaneus in Kn. Tale, 74 (A 932); Troil. v. 1504. Thynne, in his Animadversions on Speght's Chaucer (ed. Furnivall, p. 43), defends the spelling Campaneus on the ground that it was the usual medieval spelling; and refers us to Gower and Lydgate. In Pauli's edition of Gower, i. 108, it is Capaneus. Lydgate has Campaneus; Siege of Thebes, pt. iii. near the beginning. Capaneus is the right Latin form; he was one of the seven chiefs, and was struck with lightning by Jupiter whilst scaling the walls of Thebes; Statius, Theb. lib. x (at the end). Cf. Dante, Inf. xiv. 63. As to the form Campaneus, cf. Ital. Campidoglio with Lat. Capitolium.

60. 'The Theban wretches, the two brothers;' i. e. Eteocles and Polynices, who caused the war. Cf. Troil. v. 1507.

61. Adrastus, king of Argos, who assisted his son-in-law Polynices, and survived the war; Theb. lib. xi. 441.

63. 'That no man knew of any remedy for his (own) misery.' Care, anxiety, misery. At this line Chaucer begins upon st. 12 of the second book of the Teseide, which runs thus:—

71. From this point onward, Chaucer's work is, as far as we know at present, original. He seems to be intending to draw a portrait of a queen of Armenia who is neglected by her lover, in distinct contrast to Emilia, sister of the queen of Scythia, who had a pair of lovers devoted to her service.

78. Of twenty yeer of elde, of twenty years of age; so in MSS. F., Tn., and Harl. 372. See note to l. 80.

80. Behelde; so in MSS. Harl., F.; and Harl. 372 has beheelde. [534]I should hesitate to accept this form instead of the usual beholde, but for its occurrence in Gower, Conf. Amant., ed. Pauli, iii. 147:—

So also in the Moral Ode, l. 288, the Trinity MS. has the infin. behealde, and the Lambeth MS. has bihelde. It appears to be a Southern form, adopted here for the rime, like ken for kin in Book of the Duch. 438.

There is further authority; for we actually find helde for holde in five MSS. out of seven, riming with welde (wolde); C. T., Group D, l. 272.

82. Penelope and Lucretia are favourite examples of constancy; see C. T., Group B, 63, 75; Book Duch. 1081-2; Leg. Good Women, 252, 257. Read Penélop', not Pénelóp', as in B. D. 1081.

85. I have supplied Arcite, which the MSS. strangely omit. It is necessary to name him here, to introduce him; and the line is else too short. Chaucer frequently shifts the accent upon this name, so that there is nothing wrong about either Arcíte here, or Árcite in l. 92. See Kn. Tale, 173, 344, 361, &c. on the one hand; and lines 1297, 1885 on the other. And see l. 140 below.

105. A proverbial expression; see Squi. Tale, F 537. The character of Arcite is precisely that of the false tercelet in Part II. of the Squieres Tale; and Anelida is like the falcon in the same. Both here and in the Squieres Tale we find the allusions to Lamech, and to blue as the colour of constancy; see notes to ll. 146, 150, 161-9 below.

128. 'That all his will, it seemed to her,' &c. A common idiom. Koch would omit hit, for the sake of the metre; but it makes no difference at all, the e in thoghte being elided.

145. In her hewe, in her colours: he wore the colours which she affected. This was a common method of shewing devotion to a lady.

146. Observe the satire in this line. Arcite is supposed to have worn white, red, or green; but he did not wear blue, for that was the colour of constancy. Cf. Squi. Tale, F 644, and the note; and see l. 330 below; also p. 409, l. 7.

150. Cf. Squi. Tale, F 550. I have elsewhere drawn attention to the resemblance between this poem and the Squieres Tale, in my note to l. 548 of that Tale. Cf. also Cant. Tales, 5636 (D 54). The reference is to Gen. iv. 19—'And Lamech took unto him two wives.' In l. 154, Chaucer curiously confounds him with Jabal, Lamech's son, who was 'the father of such as dwell in tents'; Gen. iv. 20. [535]

157. 'Like a wicked horse, which generally shrieks when it bites'; Bell. This explanation is clearly wrong. The line is repeated, with the slight change of pleyne to whyne, in C. T. 5968 (D 386). To pleyne or to whyne means to utter a plaintive cry, or to whinny; and the sense is—'Like a horse, (of doubtful temper), which can either bite or whinny (as if wanting a caress).'

171. Al crampissheth, she draws all together, contracts convulsively; formed from cramp. I know of but four other examples of the use of this word.

In Lydgate's Flour of Curtesie, st. 7, printed in Chaucer's Works, ed. 1561, fol. 248, we have the lines:—

As this gives no sense, it is clear that crampeshe at is an error for crampisheth or crampished, which Lydgate probably adopted from the present passage.

Again, in Lydgate's Life of St. Edmund, in MS. Harl. 2278, fol. 101 (ed. Horstmann, p. 430, l. 930), are the lines:—

Skelton has encraumpysshed, Garland of Laurell, 16; and Dyce's note gives an example of craumpishing from Lydgate's Wars of Troy, bk. iv. c. 33, sig. Xv. col. 4, ed. 1555.

Once more, Lydgate, in his Fall of Princes, bk. i. c. 9 (pr. by Wayland, leaf 18, col. 2), has the line—

178. Forth is here equivalent to 'continues'; is or dwelleth is understood. Read languísshing.

180. Grene, fresh; probably with a reference to green as being the colour of inconstancy.

182. Nearly repeated in Kn. Tale, 1539 (A 2397); cf. Comp. unto Pity, 110. Cf. Compl. to his Lady, 52.

183. If up is to be retained before so, change holdeth into halt. 'His new lady reins him in by the bridle so tightly (harnessed as he is) at the end of the shaft (of her car), that he fears every word like an arrow.' The image is that of a horse, tightly fastened to the ends of the shafts of a car, and then so hardly reined in that he fears every [536]word of the driver; he expects a cut with the whip, and he cannot get away.

193. Fee or shipe, fee or reward. The scarce word shipe being misunderstood, many MSS. give corrupt readings. But it occurs in the Persones Tale, Group I, 568, where Chaucer explains it by 'hyre'; and in the Ayenbite of Inwit, p. 33. It is the A. S. scipe. 'Stipendium, scipe'; Wright's Vocabularies, 114. 34.

211. The metre now becomes extremely artificial. The first stanza is introductory. Its nine lines are rimed a a b a a b b a b, with only two rimes. I set back lines 3, 6, 7, 9, to show the arrangement more clearly. The next four stanzas are in the same metre. The construction is obscure, but is cleared up by l. 350, which is its echo, and again by ll. 270-1. Swerd is the nom. case, and thirleth is its verb; 'the sword of sorrow, whetted with false complaisance, so pierces my heart, (now) bare of bliss and black in hue, with the (keen) point of (tender) recollection.' Chaucer's 'with ... remembrance' is precisely Dante's 'Per la puntura della rimembranza'; Purg. xii. 20.

215. Awhaped, amazed, stupified. To the examples in the New E. Dict. add—'Sole by himself, awhaped and amate'; Compl. of the Black Knight, 168.

220. Observe how the stanza, which I here number as 1, is echoed by the stanza below, ll. 281-289; and so of the rest.

241. Founde, seek after; A. S. fundian. For founde, all the MSS. have be founde, but the be is merely copied in from be more in l. 240. If we retain be, then befounde must be a compound verb, with the same sense as before; but there is no known example of this verb, though the related strong verb befinden is not uncommon. But see l. 47 above. With l. 242 cf. Rom. Rose, 966 (p. 134).

256-71. This stanza is in the same metre as that marked 5 below, ll. 317-332. It is very complex, consisting of 16 lines of varying length. The lines which I have set back have but four accents; the rest have five. The rimes in the first eight lines are arranged in the order a a a b a a a b; in the last eight lines this order is precisely reversed, giving b b b a b b b a; so that the whole forms a virelay.

262. 'Offended you, as surely as (I hope that) He who knows everything may free my soul from woe.' [537]

272. This stanza answers to that marked 6 below, ll. 333-341. It is the most complex of all, as the lines contain internal rimes. The lines are of the normal length, and arranged with the end-rimes a a b a a b b a b, as in the stanzas marked 1 to 4 above. Every line has an internal rime, viz. at the second and fourth accents. In ll. 274, 280, this internal rime is a feminine one, which leaves but one syllable (viz. nay, may) to complete these lines.

The expression 'swete fo' occurs again in the Compleint to his Lady, l. 41 (cf. ll. 64, 65); also in Troil. v. 228.

279. 'And then shall this, which is now wrong, (turn) into a jest; and all (shall be) forgiven, whilst I may live.'

281. The stanza here marked 1 answers to the stanza so marked above; and so of the rest. The metre has already been explained.

299. 'And must I pray (to you), and so cast aside womanhood?' It is not for the woman to sue to the man. Compare l. 332.

306. 'Your demeanour may be said to flower, but it bears no seed.' There is much promise, but no performance.

309. Holde, keep back. The spelling Averyll (or Auerill) occurs in MS. Harl. 7333, MS. Addit. 16165, and MSS. T. and P. It is much better than the Aprill or Aprille in the rest. I would also read Averill or Aperil in Troil. i. 156.

320. Chaunte-pleure. Godefroy says that there was a celebrated poem of the 13th century named Chantepleure or Pleurechante; and that it was addressed to those who sing in this world and will weep in the next. Hence also the word was particularly used to signify any complaint or lament, or a chant at the burial-service. One of his quotations is:—'Heu brevis honor qui vix duravit per diem, sed longus dolor qui usque ad mortem, gallicè la chantepleure'; J. de Aluet, Serm., Richel. l. 14961, fol. 195, verso. And again:—

Tyrwhitt says:—'A sort of proverbial expression for singing and weeping successively [rather, little singing followed by much weeping]. See Lydgate, Trag. [i. e. Fall of Princes] st. the last; where he says that his book is 'Lyke Chantepleure, now singing now weping.' In MS. Harl. 4333 is a Ballad which turns upon this expression. It begins: 'Moult vaut mieux pleure-chante que ne fait chante-pleure.' Clearly the last expression means, that short grief followed by long joy is better than brief joy followed by long grief. The fitness of the application in the present instance is obvious.

So also in Lydgate's Siege of Troye, bk. ii. c. 11; ed. 1555, Fol. F 6, back, col. 2.

328. A furlong-wey meant the time during which one can walk a furlong, at three miles an hour. A mile-way is twenty minutes; a furlong-wey is two minutes and a half; and the double of it is five minutes. But the strict sense need not be insisted on here.

So in Troil. iii. 885—'bereth him this blewe ring.' And see Sect. XXI. l. 7 (p. 409), and the note.

357. The reason why the Poem ends here is sufficiently obvious. Here must have followed the description of the temple of Mars, written in seven-line stanzas. But it was all rewritten in a new metre, and is preserved to us, for all time, in the famous passage in the Knightes Tale; ll. 1109-1192 (A 1967).

Only extant in MS. T., written by Shirley, and in Stowe's edition of 1561. Dr. Koch says—'It seems that Stowe has taken his text from Shirley, with a few modifications in spelling, and altered Shirley's [539]Scriveyn into scrivener, apparently because that word was out of use in his time. Scriveyn is O. Fr. escrivain, F. écrivain. Lines 3 and 4 are too long [in MS. T. and Stowe], but long and more are unnecessary for the sense, wherfore I have omitted them.' Dr. Sweet omits long, but retains more, though it sadly clogs the line. Again, in l. 2, we find for to, where for is superfluous.

2. Boece, Chaucer's translation of Boethius. Troilus, Chaucer's poem of Troilus and Creseyde; in 5 books, all in seven-line stanzas. See vol. II.

3. 'Thou oughtest to have an attack of the scab under thy locks, unless thou write exactly in accordance with my composition.'

'The former Age' is a title taken from l. 2 of the poem. In MS. Hh., at the end, are the words—'Finit Etas prima: Chaucers.'

Both MSS. are poor, and omit a whole line (l. 56), which has to be supplied by conjecture; as we have no other authority. The spelling requires more emendation than usual.

The poem is partly a verse translation of Boethius, De Consolatione Philosophiæ, lib. ii. met. 5. We possess a prose translation by Chaucer of the entire work (see vol. II. p. 40). This therefore contains the same passage in prose; and the prose translation is, of course, a much closer rendering of the original. Indeed there is nothing in the original which corresponds to the last four stanzas of the present poem, excepting a hint for l. 62.

The work of Boethius, in Latin, consists of five books. Each book contains several sections, written in prose and verse alternately. Hence it is usual to refer to bk. ii. prose 5 (liber ii. prosa 5); bk. ii. metre 5 (liber ii. metrum 5); and the like. These divisions are very useful in finding one's place.

Chaucer was also indebted to Ovid, Metam. i. 89-112, for part of this description of the Golden Age; of which see Dryden's fine translation. See also Le Roman de la Rose, ll. 8395-8492: and compare the Complaint of Scotland, ed. Murray, p. 144; and Dante, Purg. xxii. 148. For further remarks, see the Introduction.

1. 'Decaearchus ... refert sub Saturno, id est, in aureo saeculo, cum omnia humus funderet, nullum comedisse carnes: sed uniuersos uixisse frugibus et pomis, quae sponte terra gignebat'; Hieron. c. Iouin. lib. ii.

5. Forpampred, exceedingly pampered; Lat. perdita. With outrage, beyond all measure.

7. Dr. Sweet reads hawes, mast instead of mast, hawes. This sounds better, but is not necessary. Haw-es is dissyllabic. Pounage, [540]mod. E. pannage, mast, or food given to swine in the woods; see the Glossary. Better spelt pannage or paunage (Manwood has pawnage), as cited in Blount's Nomolexicon. Koch wrongly refers us to O.F. poün, poön, a sickle (Burguy), but mast and haws were never reaped. Cf. Dante, Purg. xxii. 149.

11. 'Which they rubbed in their hands, and ate of sparingly.' Gnodded is the pt. t. of gnodden or gnudden, to rub, examples of which are scarce. See Ancren Riwle, pp. 238, 260 (footnotes), and gnide in Halliwell's Dictionary. But the right reading is obviously gniden or gnide (with short i), the pt. t. pl. of the strong verb gniden, to rub. This restores the melody of the line. In the Ancren Riwle, p. 260, there is a reference to Luke vi. 1, saying that Jesus' disciples 'gniden the cornes ut bitweonen hore honden'; where another MS. has gnuddeden. The Northern form gnade (2 p. sing.) occurs in the O.E. Psalter, Ps. lxxxviii. 45. Dr. Sweet reads gnodde, but the pt. t. of gnodden was gnodded. Nat half, not half of the crop; some was wasted.

16. 'No one as yet ground spices in a mortar, to put into clarrè or galantine-sauce.' As to clarre, see Knightes Tale, 613 (A 1471); R. Rose, 6027; and the Babees Book, ed. Furnivall, p. 204, and Index.

In the Liber Cure Cocorum, ed. Morris, p. 30, is the following recipe for Galentyne:—

'Galendyne is a sauce for any kind of roast Fowl, made of Grated Bread, beaten Cinnamon and Ginger, Sugar, Claret-wine, and Vinegar, made as thick as Grewell'; Randell Holme, bk. iii. ch. iii. p. 82, col. 2 (quoted in Babees Book, ed. Furnivall, p. 216). Roquefort gives O.F. galatine, galantine, galentine, explained by 'gelée, daube, sauce, ragoût fort épicé; en bas Latin, galatina.' Beyond doubt, Chaucer found the word in the Roman de la Rose, l. 21823—'En friture et en galentine.' See Galantine in Littré, and see note to Sect. XII. l. 17. Cf. Rom. de la Rose, 8418:—

17. 'No dyer knew anything about madder, weld, or woad.' All three are plants used in dyeing. Madder is Rubia tinctoria, the roots of which yield a dye. I once fancied weld was an error for welled (i. e. flowed out); and Dr. Sweet explains welde by 'strong.' Both of these fancies are erroneous. Weld is the Reseda Luteola of Linnæus, and grows wild in waste places; I have seen it growing near Beachey Head. It is better known as Dyer's Rocket. In Johns' Flowers of the Field, we duly find—'Reseda Luteola, Dyer's Rocket, [541]weed, or Weld.' Also called Ash of Jerusalem, Dyer's Weed, &c.; see Eng. Plant-names, by Britten and Holland. It appears in mod. G. as Wau (Du. wouw), older spelling Waude. Its antiquity as a Teut. word is vouched for by the derivatives in the Romance languages, such as Span. gualda, Port. gualde, F. gaude; see Gualda in Diez. Weld is a totally distinct word from woad, but most dictionaries confound them. Florio, most impartially, coins a new form by mixing the two words together (after the fashion adopted in Alice through the Looking-glass). He gives us Ital. gualdo, 'a weede to die yellow with, called woald.' The true woad is the Isatis tinctoria, used for dyeing blue before indigo was known; the name is sometimes given to Genista tinctoria, but the dye from this is of a yellow colour. Pliny mentions the dye from madder (Nat. Hist. xix. 3); and says the British women used glastum, i. e. woad (xxii. 1).

30. Ri-ver-es; three syllables. Dr. Sweet suggests putting after in place of first.

33. 'These tyrants did not gladly venture into battle to win a wilderness or a few bushes where poverty (alone) dwells—as Diogenes says—or where victuals are so scarce and poor that only mast or apples are found there; but, wherever there are money-bags,' &c. This is taken either from Jerome, in his Epistle against Jovinian, lib. ii. (Epist. Basil. 1524, ii. 73), or from John of Salisbury's Policraticus, lib. viii. c. 6. Jerome has: 'Diogenes tyrannos et subuersiones urbium, bellaque uel hostilia, uel ciuilia, non pro simplici uictu holerum pomorumque, sed pro carnibus et epularum deliciis asserit excitari.' John of Salisbury copies this, with subuersores for subuersiones, which seems better. Gower relates how Diogenes reproved Alexander for his lust of conquest; Conf. Amantis, ed. Pauli, i. 322.

47. 'Their hearts were all united, without the gall (of envy).' Curiously enough, Chaucer has here made an oversight. He ends the line with galles, riming with halles and walles; whereas the line should [542]end with a word riming to shete, as, e.g. 'Hir hertes knewen nat to counterfete.'

55, 6. 'Humility and peace, (and) good faith (who is) the empress (of all), filled the earth full of ancient courtesy.' Line 56 I have supplied; Dr. Koch supplies the line—'Yit hadden in this worlde the maistrie.' Either of these suggestions fills up the sense intended.

57. Jupiter is mentioned in Ovid's Metamorphoses immediately after the description of the golden, silver, brazen, and iron ages. At l. 568 of the same book begins the story of the love of Jupiter for Io.

59. Nembrot, Nimrod; so that his toures hye refers to the tower of Babel. In Gen. x, xi, the sole connection of Nimrod with Babel is in ch. x. 10—'And the beginning of his kingdom was Babel.' But the usual medieval account is that he built the tower. Thus, in the Cursor Mundi, l. 2223:—

62-4. These last lines are partly imitated from Boethius; lines 33-61 are independent of him.

This poem consists of three Ballads and an Envoy. Each Ballad contains three stanzas of eight lines, with the rimes a b a b b c b c, and the rimes of the second and third stanzas are precisely the same as those of the first. Thus the rime a recurs six times, the rime b twelve times, and the rime c likewise six times. Moreover, each stanza ends with the same line, recurring as a refrain. Hence the metrical difficulties are very great, and afford a convincing proof of Chaucer's skill. The Envoy is of seven lines, rimed a b a b b a b.

The three ballads are called, collectively, Balades de visage sanz peinture, a title which is correctly given in MS. I., with the unlucky exception that visage has been turned into vilage. This curious blunder occurs in all the MSS. and old editions, and evidently arose from mistaking a long s (ſ) for an l. Vilage, of course, makes no sense; and we are enabled to correct it by help of Chaucer's translation of Boethius, bk. ii. pr. 1; l. 39. 'Right swich was she [Fortune] whan she flatered thee, and deceived thee with unleveful lykinges of fals welefulnesse. Thou hast now knowen and ataynt the doutous or double visage of thilke blinde goddesse Fortune. She, that yit covereth hir and [543]wimpleth hir to other folk, hath shewed hir everydel to thee.' Or the Ballads may refer to the unmasking of false friends: 'Fortune hath departed and uncovered to thee bothe the certein visages and eek the doutous visages of thy felawes'; id. bk. ii. pr. 8; l. 25. The whole poem is more or less founded on the descriptions of Fortune in Boethius; and we thus see that the visage meant is the face of Fortune, or else the face of a supposed friend, which is clearly revealed to the man of experience, in the day of adversity, without any covering or wimpling, and even without any painting or false colouring.

In MS. T. we are told that 'here filoweþe [followeth] a balade made by Chaucier of þe louer and of Dame Fortune.' In MS. A. we are told that 'here foloweþe nowe a compleynte of þe Pleintyff agenst fortune translated oute of Frenshe into Englisshe by þat famous Rethorissyen Geffrey Chaucier.' This hint, that it is translated out of French, can scarcely be right, unless Shirley (whose note this is) means that it partially resembles passages in Le Roman de la Rose; for Chaucer's work seems to contain some reminiscences of that poem as well as of the treatise of Boethius, though of course Le Roman is indebted to Boethius also.

Le Pleintif is the complainant, the man who brings a charge against Fortune, or rather, who exclaims against her as false, and defies her power. The first Ballad, then, consists of this complaint and defiance.

The close connection between this poem and Boethius is shewn by the fact that (like the preceding poem called The Former Age) it occurs in an excellent MS. of Chaucer's translation of Boethius, viz. MS. I. (Ii. 3. 21, in the Cambridge University Library). I may also remark here, that there is a somewhat similar dialogue between Nobilitas and Fortuna in the Anticlaudianus of Alanus de Insulis, lib. viii. c. 2; see Anglo-Latin Satirists, ed. T. Wright, ii. 401.

In Morley's English Writers, ii. 283, is the following description. 'The argument of the first part [or Ballad] is: I have learnt by adversity to know who are my true friends; and he can defy Fortune who is master of himself. The argument of the next part [second Ballad], that Fortune speaks, is: Man makes his own wretchedness. What may come you know not; you were born under my rule of change; your anchor holds. Of the third part of the poem [third Ballad], in which the Poet and Fortune each speak, the sum of the argument is, that what blind men call fortune is the righteous will of God. Heaven is firm, this world is mutable. The piece closes with Fortune's call upon the Princes to relieve this man of his pain, or pray his best friend "of his noblesse" that he may attain to some better estate.'

The real foundation of these three Ballads is (1) Boethius, bk. ii. proses 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, and met. 1; and (2) a long passage in Le Roman de la Rose, ll. 4853-4994 (Eng. version, 5403-5584). More particular references are given below.

1. The beginning somewhat resembles Boethius, bk. ii. met. 1, l, 5;—'She, cruel Fortune, casteth adoun kinges that whylom weren [544]y-drad; and she, deceivable, enhaunseth up the humble chere of him that is discomfited.' Cf. Rom. Rose (E. version), ll. 5479-83.

2. The latter part of this line is badly given in the MSS. The readings are: F. now pouerte and now riche honour (much too long); I. now poeere and now honour; A. T. nowe poure and nowe honour; H. now poore and now honour. But the reading poure, poer, pore, i. e. poor, hardly serves, as a sb. is required. Pouerte seems to be the right word, but this requires us to omit the former now. Pouerte can be pronounced povért'; accented on the second syllable, and with the final e elided. For this pronunciation, see Prol. to Man of Lawes Tale, Group B, l. 99. Precisely because this pronunciation was not understood, the scribes did not know what to do. They inserted now before pouerte (which they thought was póverte); and then, as the line was too long, cut it down to poure, poore, to the detriment of the sense. I would therefore rather read—'As wele or wo, poverte and now honour,' with the pronunciation noted above.

7. In the Introduction to the Persones Tale (Group I, 248), we find: 'wel may that man, that no good werke ne dooth, singe thilke newe Frenshe song, Iay tout perdu mon temps et mon labour.' In like manner, in the present case, this line of 'a new French song' is governed by the verb singen in l. 6; cf. Sect. XXII. l. 24. The sense is—'the lack of Fortune's favour shall never (though I die) make me sing—"I have wholly lost my time and my labour."' In other words, 'I will not own myself defeated.'

9. With this stanza cf. Rom. de la Rose (E. version), 5551-2, 5671-78, 5579-81:—

13. No force of, it does not matter for; i. e. 'thy rigour is of no consequence to him who has the mastery over himself.' From Boethius, bk. ii. pr. 4, l. 98, which Chaucer translates: 'Thanne, yif it so be that thou art mighty over thy-self, that is to seyn, by tranquillitee of thy sowle, than hast thou thing in thy power that thou noldest never lesen, ne Fortune ne may nat beneme it thee.'

17. Socrates is mentioned in Boeth. bk. i. pr. 3, l. 39, but ll. 17-20 are from Le Rom. de la Rose, ll. 5871-4:—

20. Chere, look. Savour, pleasantness, attraction; cf. Squi. Tale, F 404. All the MSS. have this reading; Caxton alters it to favour.

25. This Second Ballad gives us Fortune's response to the defiance of the complainant. In Arch. Seld. B. 10, it is headed—'Fortuna ad paupertatem.' See Boethius, bk. ii. prose 2, where Philosophy says—'Certes, I wolde pleten with thee a fewe thinges, usinge the wordes of Fortune.' Cf. 'nothing is wrecched but whan thou wenest it'; Boeth. ii. pr. 4, l. 79; and see Rom. Rose (E. version, 5467-5564).

28. 'Who possessest thy (true) self (as being quite) beyond my control.' A fine sentiment. Out of, beyond, independent of.

29. Cf. 'thou hast had grace as he that hath used of foreine goodes; thou hast no right to pleyne thee'; Boethius, bk. ii. pr. 2, l. 17.

31. Cf. 'what eek yif my mutabilitee yiveth thee rightful cause of hope to han yit beter thinges?' id. l. 58.

32. Thy beste frend; possibly John of Gaunt, who died in 1399; but see note to l. 73 below. There is a curious resemblance here to Le Rom. de la Rose, 8056-60:—

34. Cf. 'For-why this like Fortune hath departed and uncovered to thee bothe the certein visages and eek the doutous visages of thy felawes... thow hast founden the moste precious kinde of richesses, that is to seyn, thy verray freendes'; Boeth. bk. ii. pr. 8, l. 25.

Cf. Rom. Rose (E. version), l. 5486, and ll. 5547-50. The French version has (ll. 4967, &c.):—

35. Vincent de Beauvais, Speculum Naturale, bk. 19, c. 62, headed De medicinis ex hyæna, cites the following from Hieronymus, Contra Iouinianum [lib. ii. Epist. Basileæ, 1524, ii. 74]:—'Hyænæ fel oculorum claritatem restituit,' the gall of a hyena restores the clearness of one's eyes. So also Pliny, Nat. Hist. bk. xxviii. c. 8. This exactly explains the allusion. Compare the extract from Boethius already quoted above, at the top of p. 543.

38. 'Still thine anchor holds.' From Boethius, bk. ii. pr. 4, l. 40:—whan that thyn ancres cleven faste, that neither wolen suffren [546]the counfort of this tyme present, ne the hope of tyme cominge, to passen ne to faylen.'

46. Fortune says:—'I torne the whirlinge wheel with the torning cercle'; Boethius, bk. ii. pr. 2, l. 37.

47. 'My teaching is better, in a higher degree, than your affliction is, in its degree, evil'; i. e. my teaching betters you more than your affliction makes you suffer.

49. In this third Ballad, the stanzas are distributed between the Complainant and Fortune, one being assigned to the former, and two to the latter. The former says:—'I condemn thy teaching; it is (mere) adversity.' M. S. Arch. Seld. B. 10 has the heading 'Paupertas ad Fortunam.'

50. My frend, i. e. my true friend. In l. 51, thy frendes means 'the friends I owed to thee,' my false friends. From Boethius, bk. ii. pr. 8, l. 23:—'this aspre and horrible Fortune hath discovered to thee the thoughtes of thy trewe freendes;... Whan she departed awey fro thee, she took awey hir freendes and lafte thee thyne freendes.'

51. I thanke hit thee, I owe thanks to thee for it. But very likely hit has been inserted to fill up, and the right reading is, probably, I thank-e thee; as Koch suggests.

53. 'Their niggardliness, in keeping their riches to themselves, foreshews that thou wilt attack their stronghold; just as an unnatural appetite precedes illness.'

57. Here Fortune replies. This stanza is nearly made up of extracts from Boethius, bk. ii. pr. 2, transposed and rearranged. For the sake of comparison, I give the nearest equivalents, transposing them to suit the order here adopted.

'That maketh thee now inpacient ayeins me.... I norisshede thee with my richesses.... Now it lyketh me to with-drawen my hand ... shal I than only ben defended to usen my right?... The see hath eek his right to ben somtyme calme ... and somtyme to ben horrible with wawes.... Certes, it is leveful to the hevene to make clere dayes.... The yeer hath eek leve ... to confounden hem [the flowers] somtyme with reynes ... shal it [men's covetousness] binde me to ben stedefast?'

65. Above this stanza (ll. 65-72) all the MSS. insert a new heading, such as 'Le pleintif,' or 'Le pleintif encountre Fortune,' or 'The [547]pleyntyff ageinst Fortune,' or 'Paupertas ad Fortunam.' But they are all wrong, for it is quite certain that this stanza belongs to Fortune. Otherwise, it makes no sense. Secondly, we know this by the original (in Boethius). And thirdly, Fortune cannot well have the 'envoy' unless she has the stanza preceding it. Dr. Morris, in his edition, rightly omits the heading; and so in Bell's edition.

66. Compare:—'For purviaunce is thilke divyne reson that is establisshed in the soverein prince of thinges; the whiche purviaunce disponeth alle thinges'; Boeth. bk. iv. pr. 6, l. 42.

68. Ye blinde bestes, addressed to men; evidently by Fortune, not by the Pleintif. Compare the words forth, beste, in the Balade on Truth, Sect. XIII. l. 18.

71. Here we have formal proof that the speaker is Fortune; for this is copied from Boethius, bk. ii. pr. 3, l. 60—'natheles the laste day of a mannes lyf is a manere deeth to Fortune.' Hence thy refers to man, and myn refers to Fortune; and the sense is—'Thy last day (O man) is the end of my interest (in thee)'; or 'dealings (with thee).' The word interesse, though scarce, is right. It occurs in Lydgate's Minor Poems, ed. Halliwell, p. 210; and in Spenser, F. Q. vii. 6. 33:—

And in Todd's Johnson:—'I thought, says his Majesty [K. Charles I.] I might happily have satisfied all interesses'; Lord Halifax's Miscell. p. 144. The sb. also occurs as Ital. interesse; thus Florio's Ital. Dict. (1598) has:—'Interesse, Interesso, the interest or profite of money for lone. Also, what toucheth or concerneth a mans state or reputation.' And Minsheu's Spanish Dict. (1623) has:—'Interes, or Interesse, interest, profite, auaile.' The E. vb. to interess was once common, and occurs in K. Lear, i. 1. 87 (unless Dr. Schmidt is right in condemning the reading of that line).

73. Princes. Who these princes were, it is hard to say; according to l. 76 (found in MS. I. only), there were three of them. If the reference is to the Dukes of Lancaster, York, and Gloucester, then the 'beste frend' must be the king himself. Cf. l. 33.

75, 76. 'And I (Fortune) will requite you for your trouble (undertaken) at my request, whether there be three of you, or two of you (that heed my words).' Line 76 occurs in MS. I. only, yet it is difficult to reject it, as it is not a likely sort of line to be thrust in, unless this were done, in revision, by the author himself. Moreover, we should expect the Envoy to form a stanza with the usual seven lines, so common in Chaucer, though the rime-arrangement differs.

77. 'And, unless it pleases you to relieve him of his pain (yourselves), pray his best friend, for the honour of his nobility, that he may attain to some better estate.'

The assigning of this petition to Fortune is a happy expedient. The poet thus escapes making a direct appeal in his own person. [548]

The title 'Mercilesse Beaute' is given in the Index to the Pepys MS. As it is a fitting title, and no other has been suggested, it is best to use it.

I think this Roundel was suggested by one written in French, in the thirteenth century, by Willamme d'Amiens, and printed in Bartsch, Chrestomathie de l'ancien Français. It begins—

i. e. I shall never be sated with gazing on the gray soft eyes which have slain me.

1. The MS. has Yowre two yen; but the scribe lets us see that this ill-sounding arrangement of the words is not the author's own; for in writing the refrain he writes 'Your yen, &c.' But we have further evidence: for the whole line is quoted in Lydgate's Ballade of our Ladie, printed in Chaucer's Works, ed. 1550, fol. 347 b, in the form—'Your eyen two wol slee me sodainly.' The same Ballad contains other imitations of Chaucer's language. Cf. also Kn. Tale, 260 and 709 (A 1118, 1567).

3. So woundeth hit ... kene, so keenly it (your beauty) wounds (me). The MS. has wondeth, which is another M. E. spelling of woundeth. Percy miscopied it wendeth, which gives but poor sense; besides, Chaucer would probably have used the contracted form went as his manner is. In l. 5, the scribe writes wound (better wounde).

4. And but, and unless. For word Percy printed words, quite forgetting that the M.E. plural is dissyllabic (word-es). The final d has a sort of curl to it, but a comparison with other words shews that it means nothing; it occurs, for instance, at the end of wound (l. 5), and escaped (l. 27).

Wounde (MS. wound) is dissyllabic in Mid. English, like mod. G. Wunde. See wunde in Stratmann.

6. I give two lines to the first refrain, and three to the second. The reader may give three lines to both, if he pleases; see note to sect. V, l. 675. We cannot confine the first refrain to one line only, as there is no stop at the end of l. 14.

17. MS. han ye me, correctly; Percy omits me, and so spoils both sense and metre.

27. Lovers should be lean; see Romaunt of the Rose (E. version), 2684. The F. version has (l. 2561):—

28. MS neuere; Percy prints nere; but the syllables in his occupy the time of one syllable. I suspect that the correct reading is thenke ben; to is not wanted, and thenke is better with a final e, though it is sometimes dropped in the pres. indicative. Percy prints thinke, but the MS. has thenk; cf. AS. þencan. With l. 29 cf. Troil. v. 363.

This graceful Balade is a happy specimen of Chaucer's skill in riming. The metre is precisely that of 'Fortune,' resembling that of the Monkes Tale with the addition of a refrain; only the same rimes are used throughout. The formula is a b a b b c b c.

2. 'As far as the map of the world extends.' Mappemounde is the F. mappemonde, Lat. mappa mundi; it is used also by Gower, Conf. Amant. iii. 102.

9. tyne, a large tub; O. F. tine. The whole phrase occurs in the Chevalier au Cigne, as given in Bartsch, Chrest. Française, 350. 23:—'Le jour i ot plore de larmes plaine tine.' Cotgrave has:—'Tine, a Stand, open Tub, or Soe, most in use during the time of vintage, and holding about four or five pailfuls, and commonly borne, by a Stang, between two.' We picture to ourselves the brawny porters, staggering beneath the 'stang,' on which is slung the 'tine' containing the 'four or five pailfuls' of the poet's tears.

10. The poet, in all his despair, is sustained and refreshed by regarding the lady's beauty.

11. seemly, excellent, pleasing; this is evidently meant by the semy of the MS.

smal, fine in tone, delicate; perhaps treble. A good example occurs in the Flower and the Leaf, 180:—

Cf. 'his vois gentil and smal'; Cant. Tales, A 3360. The reading fynall (put for finall) is due to mistaking the long ſ (s) for f, and m for in.

17. 'Never was pike so involved in galantine-sauce as I am completely involved in love.' This is a humorous allusion to a manner of serving up pikes which is well illustrated in the Fifteenth-Century Cookery-books, ed. Austin, p. 101, where a recipe for 'pike in Galentyne' directs that the cook should 'cast the sauce under him and aboue him, that he be al y-hidde in the sauce.' At p. 108 of the same we are told that the way to make 'sauce galentyne' is to steep crusts of brown bread in vinegar, adding powdered cinnamon till it is brown; after which the vinegar is to be strained twice or thrice through a strainer, and some pepper and salt is to be added. Thus [550]'sauce galentine' was a seasoned pickle. See further in the note to 1. 16 of Sect. IX.

20. 'True Tristram the second.' For Tristram, see note to Sect. V. 1. 290. Tristram was a famous example of 'truth' or constancy, as his love was inspired by having drunk a magical love-potion, from the effects of which he never recovered. The MS. has Tristam.

21. refreyd, cooled down; lit. 'refrigerated.' This rare word occurs twice in Troilus; see bk. ii. 1343, v. 507; cf. Pers. Ta. I 341. Dr. Murray tells me that no writer but Chaucer is known to have used this form of the word, though Caxton has refroid, from continental French, whereas refreid is from Anglo-French.

afounde, sink, be submerged. See O. F. afonder, to plunge under water, also, to sink, in Godefroy; and affonder in Cotgrave. Chaucer found this rare word in Le Roman de la Rose, 19914. (I once thought it was the pp. of afinden, and meant 'nor be explored'; but it is better to take it as infin. after may not). See Afounder in the New E. Dict.

The Titles are: Gg. Balade de bone conseyl; Lansd. 699, La bon Counseil de le Auttour; Caxton, The good counceyl of Chawcer; Harl. Moral balade of Chaucyre. Shirley calls it—Balade that Chaucier made on his deeth-bedde; a note that has been frequently repeated, and is probably no better than a bad guess.

1. Koch considers that the source of the poem is a passage in Boethius, lib. iii. met. II, at the beginning, but the resemblance is very slight. It contains no more than a mere hint for it. However, part of st. 3 is certainly from the same, bk. i. pr. 5, as will appear; see note to 1. 17.

The former passage in Boethius is thus translated by Chaucer: 'Who-so that seketh sooth by a deep thoght, and coveiteth nat to ben deceived by no mis-weyes, lat him rollen and trenden [revolve] withinne himself the light of his inward sighte; and lat him gadere ayein, enclyninge in-to a compas, the longe moevinges of his thoughtes; and lat him techen his corage that he hath enclosed and hid in his tresors, al that he compaseth or seketh fro with-oute.' See also bk. ii. pr. 5 of the same, which seems to me more like the present poem than is the above passage.

2. Koch reads thing for good, as in some MSS. He explains the line:—'Devote thyself entirely to one thing, even if it is not very important in itself (instead of hunting after a phantom).' This I cannot accept; it certainly means nothing of the kind. Dr. Sweet has the reading: Suffise thin owene thing, &c., which is the reading of one MS. only, but it gives the right idea. The line would then mean: 'let your own property, though small, suffice for your wants.' I think we are bound to follow the MSS. generally; of these, two have [551]Suffice unto thi thing; seven have Suffice unto thy good; one has Suffice unto thi lyuynge (where lyuynge is a gloss upon good); and F. has the capital reading Suffice the (= thee) thy good. It seems best to follow the majority, especially as they allow suffice to be followed by a vowel, thus eliding the final e. The sense is simply: 'Be content with thy property, though it be small'; and the next line gives the reason why—'for hoarding only causes hatred, and ambition creates insecurity; the crowd is full of envy, and wealth blinds one in every respect.' Suffice unto thy good is much the same as the proverb—'cut your coat according to your cloth.' Chaucer elsewhere has worldly suffisaunce for 'wealth'; Cler. Tale, E 759. Of course this use of suffice unto (be content with) is peculiar; but I do not see why it is not legitimate. The use of Savour in l. 5 below is at least as extraordinary.

Cf. Chaucer's tr. of Boethius, bk. ii. pr. 5, l. 54:—'And if thou wolt fulfille thy nede after that it suffiseth to nature, than is it no nede that thou seke after the superfluitee of fortune.'

3. Cf. 'for avarice maketh alwey mokereres [hoarders] to ben hated'; Boeth. ii. pr. 5, l. 11.

5. Savour, taste with relish, have an appetite for. 'Have a relish for no more than it may behove you (to taste).'

6. Most MSS. read Werk or Do; only two have Reule, which Dr. Sweet adopts. Any one of these three readings makes sense. 'Thou who canst advise others, work well thyself,' or 'act well thyself,' or 'rule thyself.' To quote from Hamlet, i. 3. 47:—

7. Trouthe shal delivere, truth shall give deliverance. 'The truth shall make you free,' Lat. 'ueritas liberabit uos'; John viii. 32. This is a general truth, and there is no need for the insertion of thee after shal, as in the inferior MSS., in consequence of the gradual loss of the final e in trouthe, which in Chaucer is properly dissyllabic. The scribes who turned trouthe into trouthe thee forgot that this makes up trou-thè thee.

8. Tempest thee noght, do not violently trouble or harass thyself, do not be in a state of agitation. Agitation will not redress everything that is crooked. So also:—'Tempest thee nat thus with al thy fortune'; Boeth. bk. ii. pr. 4, l. 50. Chaucer (as Koch says) obtained this curious verb from the third line of section F (l. 63 of the whole poem) of the French poem from which he translated his A B C. This section begins (see p. 263 above):—

i. e. I come fleeing to thy tent, to hide myself from the storm which harasses me in the world. Goldsmith speaks of a mind being 'tempested up'; Cit. of the World, let. 47.

9. 'Trusting to the vicissitudes of fortune.' There are several references to the wheel of Fortune in Boethius. Thus in bk. ii. pr. 2 of Chaucer's translation:—'I torne the whirlinge wheel with the torning cercle,' quoted above, in the note to X. 46.

11. 'To spurn against an awl,' i. e. against a prick, is the English equivalent of the Gk. phrase which our bibles render by 'to kick against the pricks,' Acts ix. 5. Wyclif has 'to kike ayens the pricke.'

In MS. Cotton, Otho A. xviii, we find the reading a nall, the n being transferred from an to the sb. Tusser has nall for 'awl' in his Husbandry, § 17, st. 4, l. 3. This MS., by the way, has been burnt, but a copy of it (too much corrected) is given in Todd's Illustrations of Chaucer, p. 131.

12. An allusion to the fable in Æsop about the earthern and brazen pots being dashed together. An earthen pot would have still less chance of escape if dashed against a wall. In MS. T., the word crocke is glossed by 'water-potte.'

15. Cf. 'it behoveth thee to suffren with evene wille in pacience al that is don ... in this world'; Boeth. bk. ii. pr. I, l. 66.

17. When Boethius complains of being exiled, Philosophy directs him to a heavenly home. 'Yif thou remembre of what contree thou art born, it nis nat governed by emperours ... but oo lord and oo king, and that is god'; bk. i. pr. 5, l. II. This is copied (as being taken from 'Boece') in Le Roman de la Rose, l. 5049 (Eng. version, l. 5659).

18. The word beste probably refers to the passage in Boethius where wicked men are likened to various animals, as when the extortioner is a wolf, a noisy abusive man is a hound, a treacherous man is a fox, &c.; bk. iv. pr. 3. The story of Ulysses and Circe follows; bk. iv. met. 3.

19. 'Recognise heaven as thy true country.' Lok up, gaze upwards to heaven. Cf. the expression 'thy contree' at the end of bk. iv. pr. I of his translation of Boethius. There is also a special reference here to Boeth. bk. v. met. 5, where it is said that quadrupeds look down, but man is upright; 'this figure amonesteth thee, that axest the hevene with thy righte visage'; l. 14. See Ovid, Met. i. 85.

Thank god of al, thank God for all things. In like manner, in the Lamentation of Mary Magdalen, st. 53, we find: 'I thanke God of al, if I nowe dye.' Mätzner (Gram. ii. 2. 307) quotes from the Towneley [553]Mysteries, p. 128:—'Mekyll thanke of youre good wille'; and again (Gram. ii. 1. 238) from King Alisaunder, l. 7576:—'And thankid him of his socour.' Henrysoun, in his Abbay Walk, l. 8, has:—'Obey, and thank thy God of al'; but he is probably copying this very passage. Cf. also—'of help I him praye'; Lydgate, London Lyckpeny, st. 6; 'beseech you of your pardon'; Oth. iii. 3. 212. In Lydgate's Minor Poems, ed. Halliwell, p. 225, is a poem in which every stanza ends with 'thonk God of alle.' Cf. Cant. Tales, B 1113.

20. Hold the hye wey, keep to the high road. Instead of Hold the hye wey, some MSS. have Weyve thy lust, i. e. put aside thy desire, give up thine own will.

22. This last stanza forms an Envoy. It exists in one copy only (MS. Addit. 10340); but there is no reason at all for considering it spurious. Vache, cow; with reference to the 'beast in the stall' in l. 18. This animal was probably chosen as being less offensive than those mentioned by Boethius, viz. the wolf, hound, fox, lion, hart, ass, and sow. Possibly, also, there is a reference to the story of Nebuchadnezzar, as related by Chaucer in the Monkes Tale; Group B, 3361.

For remarks upon Scogan's quotation of this Ballad in full, see the Introduction.

Caxton's text is unusually good, and is often superior to that in the existing MSS.

The general idea of the poem is that Christ was the true pattern of 'gentleness' or gentility, i. e. of noble behaviour. Cf. Dekker's noble line, in which he speaks of Christ as 'The first true gentleman that ever breathed.'

But the finest poetical essay upon this subject is that by Chaucer himself, in the Wife of Bath's Tale; C. T. 6691-6758 (D 1109); which see. And cf. Tale of Melibeus, B 2831-2.

Another passage on this subject occurs in the Eng. version of the Romance of the Rose, ll. 2188-2202, which, curiously enough, is in neither Michel's nor Méon's edition of the French Poem (in which l. 2184 of the E. version is immediately succeeded by l. 2203 of the same). Again, in Le Roman de la Rose, ll. 6603-6616, there is a definition of Gentillesce; but this passage is not in the Eng. version.

The original passage, to which both Chaucer and Jean de Meun were indebted, is one in Boethius, bk. iii. pr. 6; which Chaucer thus translates:—'For yif the name of gentilesse be referred to renoun and cleernesse of linage, than is gentil name but a foreine thing, that is to [554]seyn, to hem that glorifyen hem of hir linage. For it semeth that gentilesse be a maner preysinge that comth of deserte of ancestres ... yif thou ne have no gentilesse of thy-self—that is to seyn, preyse that comth of thy deserte—foreine gentilesse ne maketh thee nat gentil.' And again, just below, in metre 6:—'On allone is fader of thinges.... Thanne comen alle mortal folk of noble sede; why noisen ye or bosten of youre eldres?' But we must not overlook a long passage near the end of Le Roman de la Rose, ll. 18807-19096, which Chaucer certainly also consulted. I quote some of these lines below.

Two MSS., both written out by Shirley, and MS. Harl. 7333, all read:—'The first fader, and foundour (or fynder) of gentylesse.' This is wrong, and probably due to the dropping of the final e in the definite adjective firste. We must keep the phrase firste stok, because it is expressly repeated in l. 8.

The first line means—'With regard to, or As to the first stock (or source), who was the father of gentilesse.' The substantives stok and fader have no verb to them, but are mentioned as being the subject of the sentence.

4. Sewe, follow. In a Ballad by King James the First of Scotland, printed at p. 54 of my edition of the Kingis Quair, the first five lines are a fairly close imitation of the opening lines of the present poem, and prove that King James followed a MS. which had the reading sewe.

Observe how his first, third, and fourth lines answer to Chaucer's fifth, second, and fourth lines respectively.

7. Al were he, albeit he may wear; i. e. although he may be a bishop, king, or emperor.

8. This firste stok, i. e. Christ. In l. 12, his heir means mankind in general.

And cf. Dante, Purg. vii. 121-3, to which Ch. refers in his Wife of Bath's Tale (D 1128).

15. Vyc-e is dissyllabic; hence two MSS. turn it into Vices, and one even has Vicesse!

With this stanza compare part of the French quotation above, and compare Rom. Rose, 19064, &c.:—

20. This is a difficult line to obtain from the MSS. It is necessary to keep heir in the singular, because of he in l. 21. In MS. A., maþe clearly stands for makeþe, i. e. maketh, as in nearly all the MSS. This gives us—That maketh his heir him that wol [or can] him queme. The change from his heir him to the more natural order him his heir is such a gain to the metre that it is worth while to make it.

In MS. Harl. 7333 is the following note, probably correct:—'This balade made Geffrey Chauuciers the Laureall Poete of Albion, and sent it to his souerain lorde kynge Rycharde the secounde, thane being in his Castell of Windesore.' In MS. T. is the heading:—'Balade Royal made by oure laureal poete of Albyon in hees laste yeeres'; and above l. 22 is:—'Lenvoye to Kyng Richard.' In MS. F. it is simply headed 'Balade.' For another allusion to King Richard at Windsor, see note to Lenvoy to Scogan, l. 43. [556]

The general idea is taken from Boethius, bk. ii. met. 8, which Chaucer thus translates:—'That the world with stable feith varieth acordable chaunginges, that the contrarious qualitee of elements holden among hem-self aliaunce perdurable, ... al this acordaunce of thinges is bounden with love, that governeth erthe and see, and hath also commaundements to the hevenes. And yif this love slakede the brydeles, alle thinges that now loven hem to-gederes wolden maken a bataile continuely, and stryven to fordoon the fasoun of this worlde, the whiche they now leden in acordable feith by faire moevinges.... O weleful were mankinde, yif thilke love that governeth hevene governed youre corages!'

5. Lyk, alike; or read oon, one, as in Harl. and T. Up so doun is the old phrase, and common. Modern English has 'improved' it into upside down, where side has to mean 'top.'

24, 25. Suffre ... don, suffer (to be) done; correct as being an old idiom. See my note to the Clerkes Tale, E 1098.

28. For wed, two MSS. have drive; a reading which one is glad to reject. It would be difficult to think of a more unfitting word.

There are but three MSS., all much alike. As to Scogan, see the Introduction. MSS. F. and P. have the heading—'Lenvoy de Chaucer a Scogan'; Gg. has—'Litera directa de Scogon per G. C.'

1, 2. These two lines are quite Dantesque. Cf. Purg. i. 47, 76; Inf. iii. 8:—'Son le leggi ... cosi rotte'; 'gli editti eterni ... guasti'; 'io eterno duro.'

3. The 'seven bright gods' are the seven planets. The allusion is to some great floods of rain that had fallen. Chaucer says it is because the heavenly influences are no longer controlled; the seven planets are allowed to weep upon the earth. The year was probably 1393, with respect to which we find in Stowe's Annales, ed. 1605, p. 495:—'In September, lightnings and thunders, in many places of England [557]did much hurt, but esp[e]cially in Cambridge-shire the same brent houses and corne near to Tolleworke, and in the Towne it brent terribly. Such abundance of water fell in October, that at Bury in Suffolke the church was full of water, and at Newmarket it bare downe walles of houses, so that men and women hardly escaped drowning.' Note the mention of Michaelmas in l. 19, shewing that the poem was written towards the close of the year.

7. Errour; among the senses given by Cotgrave for F. erreur we find 'ignorance, false opinion.' Owing to his ignorance, Chaucer is almost dead for fear; i. e. he wants to know the reason for it all.

9. Fifte cercle, fifth circle or sphere of the planets, reckoning from without; see note to Mars, l. 29. This fifth sphere is that of Venus.

14. This deluge of pestilence, this late pestilential flood. There were several great pestilences in the fourteenth century, notably in 1348-9, 1361-2, 1369, and 1375-6; cf. note to IV. 96. Chaucer seems to imply that the bad weather may cause another plague.

16. Rakelnesse, rashness. The MSS. have rekelnesse, reklesnesse, reckelesnesse; the first is nearly right. Rakelnesse is Chaucer's word, Cant. Tales, 17232 (H 283); five lines above, Phœbus blames his rakel hond, because he had slain his wife.

21. Erst, before. I accept Chaucer's clear evidence that his friend Scogan (probably Henry Scogan) was not the same person as the John (or Thomas) Scogan to whom various silly jests were afterwards attributed.

22. To record, by way of witness. Record, as Koch remarks, is here a sb., riming with lord; not the gerund record-e.

28. Him, i. e. Cupid. The Pepys MS. has hem, them, i. e. the arrows. Koch reads hem, and remarks that it makes the best sense. But it comes to much the same thing. Cf. Parl. of Foules, 217, where some of Cupid's arrows are said to slay, and some to wound. It was the spear of Achilles that could both wound and cure; see Squi. Tale, F 240, and the note. Perhaps, in some cases, the arrow of Cupid may be supposed to cure likewise; but it is simpler to ascribe the cure to Cupid himself. Observe the use of he in ll. 24 and 26, and of his in ll. 25 and 26. Thynne has hym.

31. 'Gray-headed and round of shape'; i. e. like ourselves. Cf. what Chaucer says of his own shape; C. T. Group B, 1890.

35. 'See, the old gray-haired man is pleased to rime and amuse himself.' For ryme (as in the three MSS.), the old editions have renne. This would mean, 'See, the old gray horse is pleased to run about and play.' And possibly this is right; for the O. F. grisel properly means a gray horse, as shewn in Godefroy's O. F. Dict. [558]

36. Mexcuse, for me excuse, excuse myself. Cf. mawreke, Compleint to Pite, 11.

43. For stremes, Gg. has wellis; but the whole expression stremes heed is equivalent to well, and we have which streme in l. 45 (Koch).

In the MSS., the words stremes heed are explained by Windesore (Windsor), and ende of whiche streme in l. 45 by Grenewich (Greenwich); explanations which are probably correct. Thus the stream is the Thames; Chaucer was living, in a solitary way, at Greenwich, whilst Scogan was with the court at Windsor, much nearer to the source of favour.

47. Tullius. Perhaps, says Koch, there is an allusion to Cicero's Epist. vi. ad Cæcinam. For myself, I think he alludes to his De Amicitia; see note to Rom. Rose, 5286.

1. Bukton. Most old editions have the queer reading:—'My mayster. &c. whan of Christ our kyng.' Tyrwhitt was the first to correct this, and added:—'It has always been printed at the end of the Book of the Duchesse, with an &c. in the first line instead of the name of Bukton; and in Mr. Urry's edition the following most unaccountable note is prefixed to it—"This seems an Envoy to the Duke of Lancaster after his loss of Blanch." From the reference to the Wife of Bathe, l. 29, I should suppose this to have been one of our author's later compositions, and I find that there was a Peter de Buketon, the King's Escheator for the County of York, in 1397 (Pat. 20 R. II. p. 2, m. 3, ap. Rymer) to whom this poem, from the familiar style of it, is much more likely to have been addressed than to the Duke of Lancaster.' Julian Notary's edition is the only one that retains Bukton's name.

8. Eft, again, a second time. This seems to assert that Chaucer was at this time a widower. Cf. C. T. 9103 (E 1227).

9. 'Mariage est maus liens,' marriage is an evil tie; Rom. de la Rose, 8871. And again, with respect to marriage—'Quel forsenerie [witlessness] te maine A cest torment, a ceste paine?' R. Rose, 8783; with much more to the same effect. Cf. Cant. Tales, Marchauntes Prologue (throughout); and Barbour's Bruce, i. 267.

23. 'That it would be more pleasant for you to be taken prisoner in Friesland.' This seems to point to a period when such a mishap was not uncommon. In fact, some Englishmen were present in an expedition against Friesland which took place in the autumn of 1396. See the whole account in Froissart, Chron. bk. iv. cc. 77, 78. He tells us that the Frieslanders would not ransom the prisoners taken by their enemies; consequently, they could not exchange prisoners, and at last [559]they put their prisoners to death. Thus the peculiar peril of being taken prisoner in Friesland is fully explained.

25. Proverbes, set of proverbs. Koch remarks—'Proverbes is rather curious, referring to a singular, but seems to be right, as proverbe would lose its last syllable, standing before a vowel.' Perhaps we should read or proverbe.

28. I. e. learn to know when you are well off. 'Half a loaf is better than no bread.' 'Better sit still than rise and fall' (Heywood). 'Better some of a pudding than none of pie' (Ray). In the Fairfax MS., the following rimed proverb is quoted at the end of the poem:—

The same occurs (says Hazlitt) at the end of Caxton's edition of Lydgate's Stans Puer ad Mensam; but does not belong to that poem.

29. The reference is to the Wife of Bathes Prologue, which curiously enough, is again referred to by Chaucer in the Marchauntes Tale, C. T. 9559 (E 1685). This reference shews that the present poem was written quite late in life, as the whole tone of it shews; and the same remark applies to the Marchauntes Tale also. We may suspect that Chaucer was rather proud of his Prologue to the Wife of Bathes Tale. Unquestionably, he took a great deal of pains about it.

This poem has frequently been printed as if it formed a part of The Compleynt of Mars; but it is a separate poem, and belongs to a later period.

The Compleynt of Mars is an original poem; but the present poem is a translation, being partly adapted, and partly translated from three Balades by Sir Otes de Graunson (l. 82). The original Balades have been lately recovered by Dr. Piaget, and are printed below the text. See the Introduction.

It consists of three Ballads and an Envoy, and bears a strong resemblance, in metrical form, to the poem on Fortune, each Ballad having three stanzas of eight lines each, with a refrain. It differs from 'Fortune' only in the arrangement of the rimes, which occur in the order a b a b b c c b, instead of (as in Fortune) in the order a b a b b c b c. One rime (in -aunce) occurs in the second Ballad as well as in the first; but this is quite an accidental detail, of no importance. It must be remembered that the metre was not chosen by Chaucer, but by Graunson. The Envoy, which alone is original, consists of ten lines, rimed a a b a a b b a a b. This arrangement is very unusual. See further in the note to l. 82.

In the MSS. T. and A. we have notes of some importance, written [560]by Shirley. T. has:—'The Compleynt of Venus. And filowing begynnethe a balade translated out of frenshe in-to englisshe by Chaucier, Geffrey; the frenshe made sir Otes de Grauntsome, knight Savosyen.' A. has:—'Here begynnethe a balade made by that worthy Knight of Savoye in frenshe, calde sir Otes Graunson; translated by Chauciers.' At the end of the copy in T. is:—'Hit is sayde that Graunsome made this last balade for Venus, resembled to my lady of york; aunswering the complaynt of Mars.' We certainly find that Chaucer has materially altered the first of the three Balades; so perhaps he wished to please his patron. But the title (probably not Chaucer's) is a bad one. See the Introduction. Cf. note to l. 73.

1. We must suppose Venus, i. e. the lady, to be the speaker. Hence the subject of the first Ballad is the worthiness of the lover of Venus, in another word, of Mars; indeed, in Julian Notary's edition, the poem is headed 'The Compleint of Venus for Mars.' But Mars is merely to be taken as a general type of true knighthood.

I have written the general subject of each Ballad at the head of each, merely for convenience. The subjects are:—(1) The Lover's worthiness; (2) Disquietude caused by Jealousy; (3) Satisfaction in Constancy. We thus have three movements, expressive of Admiration, Passing Doubt, and Reassurance.

The lady here expresses, when in a pensive mood, the comfort she finds in the feeling that her lover is worthy; for every one praises his excellence.

9. This portrait of a worthy knight should be placed side by side with that of a worthy lady, viz. Constance. See Man of Law's Tale, B 162-8.

11. Wold, willed. The later E. would is dead, as a past participle, and only survives as a past tense. It is scarce even in Middle English, but occurs in P. Plowman, B. xv. 258—'if God hadde wolde [better wold] hym-selue.' See also Leg. Good Women, 1209, and note.

23. Here is certainly a false rime; Chaucer nowhere else rimes -oure with -ure. But the conditions under which the poem was written were quite exceptional (see note to l. 79); so that this is no proof that the poem is spurious. There is a false rime in Sir Topas, Group B, l. 2092 (see my note).

25. In this second Ballad or Movement, an element of disturbance is introduced; jealous suspicions arise, but are put aside. Like the third Ballad, it is addressed to Love, which occurs, in the vocative case, in ll. 25, 49, and 57.

The lady says it is but suitable that lovers should have to pay dearly for 'the noble thing,' i. e. for the valuable treasure of having a worthy lover. They pay for it by various feelings and expressions of disquietude.

26. Men, one; the impersonal pronoun; quite as applicable to a woman as to a man. Cf. F. on. [561]

31. The French text shews that we must read Pleyne, not Pleye; besides, it makes better sense. This correction is due to Mr. Paget Toynbee; see his Specimens of Old French, p. 492.

33. 'May Jealousy be hanged, for she is so inquisitive that she would like to know everything. She suspects everything, however innocent.' Such is the general sense.

37. The final e in lov-e is sounded, being preserved from elision by the cæsura. The sense is—'so dearly is love purchased in (return for) what he gives; he often gives inordinately, but bestows more sorrow than pleasure.'

46. Nouncerteyn, uncertainty; as in Troilus, i. 337. A parallel formation to nounpower, impotence, which occurs in Chaucer's tr. of Boethius, bk. iii. pr. 5, l. 14.

49. In this third Ballad, Venus says she is glad to continue in her love, and contemns jealousy. She is thankful for her good fortune, and will never repent her choice.

50. Lace, snare, entanglement. Chaucer speaks of the lace of love, and the lace of Venus; Kn. Tale, 959, 1093 (A 1817, 1951).

62. 'Let the jealous (i. e. Jealousy) put it to the test, (and so prove) that I will never, for any woe, change my mind.'

70. The reading ye, for I, is out of the question; for herte is addressed as thou. So in l. 66, we must needs read thee, not you.

73. Princess. As the MSS. vary between Princesse and Princes, it is difficult to know whether the Envoy is addressed to a princess or to princes. It is true that Fortune seems to be addressed to three princes collectively, but this is unusual, and due to the peculiar form of that Envoy, which is supposed to be spoken by Fortune, not by the author. Moreover, the MSS. of Fortune have only the readings Princes and Princis; not one of them has Princesse.

The present case seems different. Chaucer would naturally address his Envoy, in the usual manner, to a single person. The use of your and ye is merely the complimentary way of addressing a person of rank. The singular number seems implied by the use of the word benignitee; 'receive this complaint, addressed to your benignity in accordance with my small skill.' Your benignity seems to be used here much as we say your grace, your highness, your majesty. The plural would (if this be so) be your benignitees; cf. Troil. v. 1859. There is no hint at all of the plural number.

But if the right reading be princess, we see that Shirley's statement (see p. 560, l. 6) should rather have referred to Chaucer, who may have produced this adaptation at the request of 'my lady of York.' Princesses are usually scarce, but 'my lady of York' had the best of claims to the title, as she was daughter to no less a person than Pedro, king of Spain. She died in 1394 (Dugdale's Baronage, ii. 154; [562]Stowe's Annales, 1605, p. 496); and this Envoy may have been written in 1393.

79. Penaunce, great trouble. The great trouble was caused, not by Chaucer's having any difficulty in finding rimes (witness his other Ballads), but in having to find rimes, to translate somewhat closely, and yet to adapt the poem in a way acceptable to the 'princess,' all at once. See further in the Introduction.

Chaucer's translation of the A B C should be compared; for there, in every stanza, he begins by translating rather closely, but ends by deviating widely from the original in many instances, merely because he wanted to find rimes to words which he had already selected.

Moreover, the difficulty was much increased by the great number of lines ending with the same rime. There are but 8 different endings in the 72 lines of the poem, viz. 6 lines ending in -ure, -able, -yse, and -ay, and 12 in -aunce, -esse, -ing, and -ente. In the Envoy, Chaucer purposely limits himself to 2 endings, viz. -ee and -aunce, as a proof of his skill.

81. Curiositee, i. e. intricacy of metre. The line is too long. I would read To folwe in word the curiositee; and thus get rid of the puzzling phrase word by word, which looks like a gloss.

82. Graunson. He is here called the flower of the poets of France. He was, accordingly, not an Englishman. According to Shirley, he was a knight of Savoy, which is correct. Sir Oto de Graunson received an annuity of £126 13s. 4d. from Richard II., in November, 1393, for services rendered; see the mention of him in the Patent Rolls, 17 Rich. II., p. 1, no. 339, sixth skin; printed in Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 123. It is there expressly said that his sovereign seigneur was the Count of Savoy, but he had taken an oath of allegiance to the king of England. The same Graunson received a payment from Richard in 1372, and at other times. See the article by Dr. Piaget referred to in the Introduction.

The date of the Envoy to this Poem can be determined almost to a day. Henry IV. was received as king by the parliament, Sept. 30, 1399. Chaucer received his answer, in the shape of an additional grant of forty marks yearly, on Oct. 3 of the same year. Consequently, the date of the Envoy is Sept. 30 or Oct. 1 or 2 in that year. It is obvious that the poem itself had been written (perhaps some time) beforehand; see note to l. 17. As far as we know, the Envoy is Chaucer's last work.

A somewhat similar complaint was addressed to the French king John II. by G. de Machault in 1351-6; but it is in short rimed lines; see his works, ed. Tarbé, p. 78. But the real model which Chaucer [563]had in view was, in my opinion, the Ballade by Eustache Deschamps, written in 1381, and printed in Tarbé's edition, at p. 55.

This Ballade is of a similar character, having three stanzas of eight lines each, with a somewhat similar refrain, viz. 'Mais de paier n'y sçay voie ne tour,' i. e. but how to pay I know therein no way nor method. It was written on a similar occasion, viz. after the death of Charles V. of France, and the accession of Charles VI., who had promised Deschamps a pension, but had not paid it. Hence the opening lines:—

The Envoy has but six lines, though the stanzas have eight; similarly, Chaucer's Envoy has but five lines (rimed a a b b a), though the stanzas have seven. Chaucer's Envoy is in a very unusual metre, which was copied by the author of the Cuckoo and the Nightingale.

The Title, in MS. F. is—'The Complaynt of Chaucer to his Purse.' In Caxton's print, it is—'The compleint of Chaucer vnto his empty purse.' In MS. P.—'La Compleint de Chaucer a sa Bourse voide.' MS. Harl. has—'A supplicacion to Kyng Richard by chaucier.' The last of these, written by Shirley, is curious. If not a mere mistake, it seems to imply that the Complaint was first prepared before king Richard was deposed, though, by means of the Envoy, it was addressed to his successor. However, this copy of Shirley's gives the Envoy; so it may have been a mere mistake. Line 23 is decisive; see note below.

I remark here, for completeness' sake, that this poem has sometimes been ascribed to Hoccleve; but, apparently, without any reason.

4. Koch remarks, that the Additional MS. 22139, which alone has That, is here superior to the rest; and he may be right. Still, the reading For is quite intelligible.

8. This day. This hints at impatience; the poet did not contemplate having long to wait. But we must take it in connexion with l. 17; see note to that line.

10. Colour; with reference to golden coins. So also in the Phisiciens Tale (C. T. 11971, or C 37), the golden colour of Virginia's hair is expressed by—

11. Four MSS., as well as the printed copies, read That of yelownesse, &c.; and this may very well be right. If so, the scansion is:—That of yél | ownés | se hád | de név | er pere. MS. Harl. 2251 has That of yowre Ielownesse, but the yowre is merely copied in from l. 10.

17. Out of this toune. This seems to mean—'help me to retire from London to some cheaper place.' At any rate, toune seems to refer to some large town, where prices were high. From the tone of this line, and that of l. 8, I should conclude that the poem was written on some occasion of special temporary difficulty, irrespectively of general poverty; and that the Envoy was hastily added afterwards, without revision of the poem itself. (I find that Ten Brink says the same.) Compare Thackeray's Carmen Lilliense.

19. 'That is, I am as bare of money as the tonsure of a friar is of hair'; Bell.

22. Brutes Albioun, the Albion of Brutus. Albion is the old name for England or Britain in the histories which follow Geoffrey of Monmouth and profess to give the ancient history of Britain before the coming of the Romans. See Layamon's Brut, l. 1243; Higden's Polychronicon, bk. i. c. 39; Fabyan's Chronicle, ed. Ellis, pp. 1, 2, 7. According to the same accounts, Albion was first reigned over by Brutus, in English spelling Brute, a descendant of Æneas of Troy, who arrived in Albion (says Fabyan) in the eighteenth year of Eli, judge of Israel. Layamon's poem is a translation from a poem by Wace, entitled Brut; and Wace borrowed from Geoffrey of Monmouth. See Brute (2) in the New E. Dict.

23. This line makes it certain that the king meant is Henry IV.; and indeed, the title conquerour in l. 21 proves the same thing sufficiently. 'In Henry IV's proclamation to the people of England he founds his title on conquest, hereditary right, and election; and from this inconsistent and absurd document Chaucer no doubt took his cue'; Bell.

The titles in the MSS. are: Ad. Prouerbe; F. Proverbe of Chaucer; Ha. Prouerbe of Chaucers.

Each proverb takes the form of a question or objection, in two lines, followed by an answer in two lines more.

There is a fair copy of them (but not well spelt) in the black-letter edition of 1561, fol. cccxl. They there appear without the addition of fourteen unconnected lines (not by Chaucer) which have been recklessly appended to them in modern editions. The title in ed. 1561 is—'A Prouerbe agaynst couitise and negligence.'

For the metre, compare the Envoy to a Ballad by Deschamps, ed. Tarbé, pp. 23, 24.

7. At the head of a Ballad by Deschamps, ed. Tarbé, i. 132, is the French proverb—'Qui trop embrasse, mal étreint.' Cotgrave, s.v. embrasser, has: Trop embrasser, et peu estraigner, to meddle with more business then he can wield; to have too many irons in the fire; to lose all by coveting all.'

But the most interesting point is the use of this proverb by Chaucer elsewhere, viz. in the Tale of Melibeus, Group B, 2405—'For the [565]proverbe seith, he that to muche embraceth, distreyneth litel.' It is also quoted by Lydgate, in his description of the Merchant in the Dance of Machabre.

7. Embrace must be read as embrac', for the rime. Similarly, Chaucer puts gras for grac-e in Sir Thopas (Group B, l. 2021).

5. In a place, in one place. In the New E. Dictionary, the following is quoted from Caxton's print of Geoffroi de la Tour, leaf 4, back:—'They satte att dyner in a hall and the quene in another.'

7. From Machault, ed. Tarbé, p. 56 (see p. 88 above):—'Qu'en lieu de bleu, Damë, vous vestez vert'; on which M. Tarbé has the following note:—'Bleu. Couleur exprimant la sincérité, la pureté, la constance; le vert, au contraire, exprimait les nouvelles amours, le changement, l'infidélité; au lieu de bleu se vêtir de vert, c'était avouer que l'on changeait d'ami.' Blue was the colour of constancy, and green of inconstancy; see Notes to Anelida, l. 330; and my note to the Squire's Tale, F 644.

In a poem called Le Remède de Fortune, Machault explains that pers, i. e. blue, means loyalty; red, ardent love; black, grief; white, joy; green, fickleness; yellow, falsehood.

9. It, i. e. the transient image; relative to the word thing, which is implied in no-thing in l. 8.

13. Sene, evident; A.S. ge-séne, ge-sýne, adj., evident, quite distinct from the pp. of the verb, which appears in Chaucer as seen or yseen. Other examples of the use of this adjective occur in ysene, C. T. Prol. 592; C. T. 11308 (Frank. Tale, F 996); sene, Compl. of Pite, 112; Merciless Beauty, 10.

15. Brotelnesse, fickleness. Cf. 'On brotel ground they bilde, and brotelnesse They finde, whan they wene sikernesse,' with precisely the same rime, Merch. Tale, 35 (E 1279).

16. Dalýda, Delilah. It is Dálida in the Monkes Tale, Group B, 3253; but see Book of the Duchesse, 738.

Candáce, hardly for Canace; see note to Parl. of Foules, 288. Rather, it is the queen Candace who tricked Alexander; see Wars of Alexander, ed. Skeat, p. 264; Gower, Conf. Amant, ii. 180.

18. Tache, defect; cf. P. Plowman, B. ix. 146. This is the word which best expresses the sense of touch (which Schmidt explains by trait) in the famous passage—'One touch of nature makes the whole world kin'; Shak. Troil. iii. 3. 175. I do not assert that touch is an error for tache, though even that is likely; but I say that the context [566]shews that it is used in just the sense of tache. The same context also entirely condemns the forced sense of the passage, as commonly misapplied. It is somewhat curious that touchwood is corrupted from a different tache, which had the sense of dried fuel or tinder.

20. Al light for somer; this phrase begins l. 15 of the Canon's Yeoman's Prologue, Group G, 568; and the phrase wot what I mene occurs again in C. T., Group B, 93. This allusion to the wearing of light summer garments seems here to imply wantonness or fickleness. Canacee in the Squi. Tale was arrayed lightly (F 389, 390); but she was taking a walk in her own park, attended by her ladies. Skelton has, 'he wente so all for somer lyghte'; Bowge of Courte, 355; and again, in Philip Sparowe, 719, he tells us that Pandarus won nothing by his help of Troilus but 'lyght-for-somer grene.' It would seem that green was a favourite colour for summer garments.

There are three MS. copies of this poem, viz. in MSS. F., B., and Harl. 7333. See remarks upon these in the Introduction, p. 89.

1. In Troil. iv. 516, the parallel line is—'Of me, that am the wofulleste wight'; where wofullest-e has four syllables. Chaucer constantly employs sorwe or sorw so as to occupy the time of a monosyllable; hence the right reading in this case is sorw'fullest-e, with final -e. See also Troil. ii. 450—'So as she was the ferfulleste wight.' And 'Bicomen is the sorwefulleste man'; Cant. Tales, E 2098.

3. Recoverer, recovery, cure; answering to O.F. recovrier, sb. succour, aid, cure, recovery; see examples in La Langue et la Littérature Française, by Bartsch and Horning, 1887. Gower uses recoverir in a like sense; ed. Pauli, i. 265. In Specimens of English, ed. Morris and Skeat, pt. ii. p. 156, l. 394, recouerer may likewise mean 'succour'; and the whole line may mean, 'they each of them cried for succour (to be obtained) from the Creator.'

7. Cf. Sect. VI. l. 33:—'That, for I love hir, sleeth me giltelees.' So also Frank. Ta. F 1322:—'Er ye me sleen bycause that I yow love.'

12. Spitous, hateful. The word in Chaucer is usually despitous; see Prol. 516, Cant. Ta. A 1596, D 761, Troil. ii. 435, v. 199; but spitously occurs in the Cant. Tales, D 223. Trevisa translates ignominiosa seruitute by 'in a dispitous bondage'; Higden's Polychron. v. 87. The sense is—'You have banished me to that hateful island whence no man may escape alive.' The allusion is to the isle of Naxos, here used as a synonym for a state of hopeless despair. It was the island in which Ariadne was left, when deserted by Theseus; and Chaucer alludes to it at least thrice in a similar way: see C. T. Group B, 68, Ho. of Fame, 416, Legend of Good Women, 2163. [567]

16. Another reading is—'If that it were a thing possible to do.' In that case, we must read possíbl', with the accent on i.

28. Perhaps corrupt; it seems to mean—'All these things caused me, in that (very state of despair), to love you dearly.'

31. The insertion of to is justified by the parallel line—'And I my deeth to yow wol al forgive'; VI. 119.

36, 37. Perhaps read—'And sithen I am of my sorwe the cause, And sithen I have this,' &c.; as in MSS. F. and B.

72. Compare the description of Dorigen, C. T. 11255-66 (F 943-54). We have similar expressions in Troil. iii. 1501:—'As wisly verray God my soule save'; and in Legend of Good Women, 1806:—'As wisly Iupiter my soule save.' And see XXIII. 4.

76. Chaucer has both pleyne unto and pleyne on; see C. T., Cler. Tale, Group E, 97; and Pard. Tale, Group C, 512.

81. 'Sun of the bright and clear star'; i. e. source of light to the planet Venus. The 'star' can hardly be other than this bright planet, which was supposed to be auspicious to lovers. Cf. Troil. v. 638:—'O sterre, of which I lost have al the light.' Observe that MSS. F. and B. read over for of; this will not scan, but it suggests the sense intended.

82. In oon, in one state, ever constant; C. T., E 602. Cf. also Troil. iii. 143:—'And ever-mo desire freshly newe To serven.'

83. So in Troil. iii. 1512:—'For I am thyn, by god and by my trouthe'; cf. Troil. iii. 120.

85. See Parl. of Foules, 309, 310, whence I supply the word ther. These lines in the Parl. of Foules may have been borrowed from the present passage, i. e. if the 'Amorous Compleint' is the older poem of the two, as is probable. In any case, the connexion is obvious. Cf. also Parl. Foules, 386. [568]

Shal, shall be; as in l. 78 above, and in Troil. iii. 103; cf. Kn. Tale, 286 (A 1144), and note to VI. 86.

90, 91. Cf. Kn. Tale, 285, 286 (A 1143, 1144); Parl. Foules, 419, 420. All three passages are much alike.

16. Dyt-e, ditty (dissyllabic); see Ho. of Fame, 622. It here rimes with despyte and plyte. In the Cant. Tales the usual forms are despyt and plyt-e respectively, but despyt-e may here be taken as a dative case.

20. Hertes lady; see VI. 60. Dere is the best reading, being thus commonly used by Chaucer as a vocative. If we retain the MS. reading here, we must insert a comma after lady, and explain I yow beseche ... here by 'I beseech you to hear.'

[1] See Rot. Claus. 3 Edw. I., and Kirkpatrick's History of Religious Orders in Norwich, pp. 109, 113. (The Athenæum, Nov. 25, 1876; p. 688.)

[2] Rolls of Parliament, i. 234, 448.

[3] For authorities, see Riley's Memorials of London, pp. xxxiii, xxxiv.

[4] See The Athenæum, Nov. 19, 1893, p. 704.

[5] Life-Records of Chaucer (Chaucer Soc.), p. 128; The Athenæum, Jan. 29, 1881, p.165. From membrane 17 of the Fine Roll, 4 Edw. II.; Parliamentary Writs, vol. ii. pt. 2. p. 30.

[6] The same, p. 126; from mem. 13 of the Coram Rege Roll of Hilary, 19 Edw. II. (1326).

[7] Riley, Mem. London, p. xxxiii.

[8] From Richard Chaucer's will (below); see p. xiv.

[9] Inferred from law-proceedings (below); and cf. note 5, above. Thomas Stace was appointed collector of customs on wine at Ipswich in 1310; Parl. Writs, vol. ii. pt. 2.

[10] Thomas Heyroun, by his will dated April 7, 1349, and proved in the Hustings Court of the City of London, appointed his brother [i. e. his half-brother], John Chaucer, as his executor. In July of the same year, John Chaucer, by the description of 'citizen and vintner, executor of the will of my brother Thomas Heyroun,' executed a deed relating to some lands. See Morris's Chaucer, i. 93, or Nicolas, Life of Chaucer, Note A; from the Records of the Hustings Court, 23 Edw. III.

[11] In December, 1324, Richard and Mary Chaucer declared that they had 'remained in full and peaceful possession of the said wardship [of John Chaucer] for a long while, namely, for one year.' See Life-Records (as in note 5), p. 126.

[12] Riley, Mem. London, p. xxxiii.

[13] Placitorum Abbreviatio, temp. Ric. I.—Edw. II., 1811; p. 354, col. 2; The Athenæum, Jan. 29, 1881, p. 165.

[14] I. e. Laurence, the man of Geoffrey Stace.

[15] They did not really succeed in this; it was disproved.

[16] As they were trying to make out a case, it is clear that John Chaucer was still just under twelve on Dec. 3, 1324, when they abducted him.

[17] Rolls of Parliament, ii. 14. Mr. Rye prints 'nulson' in place of 'unkore.'

[18] See the Calendar of Wills in the Hustings Court, by R.R. Sharpe, vol. i. p. 591.

[19] Here Sir H. Nicolas inserts '13th of July,' which I do not understand. His own Chronology of History correctly tells us that the day of St. Thomas the Martyr is Dec. 29, which in 1349 fell on Tuesday. The Monday after it was Jan. 4, 1350; the 23rd year of Edw. III. ended Jan. 24, 1350.

[20] Hustings Roll, Guildhall; see The Athenæum, Dec. 13, 1873, p. 772; The Academy, Oct. 13, 1877, p. 364. The joint names of John and Agnes Chaucer occur in 1354, and later, in 1363 and 1366.

[21] See below, under the date 1381; and The Athenæum, Nov. 29, 1873, p. 698; Dec. 13, 1873, p. 772.

[22] Timbs, Curiosities of London, p. 815.

[23] See a document printed in full in The Academy, Oct. 13, 1877, p. 364.

[24] Rymer's Fœdera, vol. ii. pt. iv. p. 23.

[25] Original Writs of Privy Seal in the Rolls House (Nicolas).

[26] Riley; Memorials of London, p. xxxiii.

[27] See The Athenæum, Dec. 13, 1873, p. 772; Nov. 19, 1892, p. 704; and The Academy, Oct. 13, 1877, p. 364. Perhaps his father's death enabled Chaucer to marry; he was married in 1366, or earlier.

[28] 'Bartholomeus atte chapel, ciuis et vinitarius Londinie, et Agnes, uxor eius, ac uxor quondam Johannis Chaucer, nuper ciuis et vinitarii dicte ciuitatis.'—Communicated to The Academy (as in note 27) by W. D. Selby.

[29] It is needless to multiply instances. Dante speaks of 35 years as being 'the middle of life's journey'; and Jean de Meun (Le Testament, ed. Méon, iv. 9) says that a man flourishes till he is 30 or 40 years old; after which he does nothing but languish (ne fait que langorir).

[30] Life-Records of Chaucer, p. 97 (Chaucer Soc.); Fortnightly Review, Aug. 15, 1866.

[31] Johnes, tr. of Froissart, bk. i. c. 206.

[32] The same, c. 207.

[33] Certainly not Retiers, near Rennes, in Brittany, more than 200 miles on the other side of Paris, as suggested by Sir H. Nicolas. Froissart mentions 'Rhetel' expressly. 'Detachments from the [English] army scoured the country.... Some of them went over the whole country of Rhetel;' bk. i. c. 208.

[34] The Athenæum, Nov. 22, 1873; p. 663. From the Wardrobe Book, 63/9, in the Record Office.

[35] He was lodging at Guillon, in Burgundy, from Ash-Wednesday (Feb. 18) until Mid-lent (March 12); Fr. bk. i. c. 210.

[36] This is well worth notice; it shews that it took several days to travel to Canterbury, even for a king who was anxious to return to his own land. In Froissart, bk. iv. c. 118, is an account of two knights who stopped at the same places. See Temp. Preface to the Cant. Tales, by F. J. Furnivall, p. 129.

[37] Johnes, tr. of Froissart, bk. i. c. 213.

[38] Johnes, tr. of Froissart, bk. i. c. 213. The Wyf of Bathe (see Cant. Tales, Prol. 465) once went on a pilgrimage to Boulogne. Chaucer probably did the same, viz. in the last week of October, 1360.

[39] Exchequer, Q. R. Wardrobe Accounts, 39/10; Life-Records, p. xvii.

[40] Rot. Pat. 40 Edw. III. p. 2, membrane 30. The title 'domicella camerae' implies that she was married; N. and Q., 8 S., iii. 355.

[41] Issue Rolls of the Exchequer, Mich., 42 Edw. III.; Nicolas, Note DD.

[42] This exception is incorrect. In the Issue Roll of Thomas de Brantingham, (for 1370), p. 359, it is noted that Philippa Chaucer received 10 marks (i. e. for the whole year), on Nov. 7, 1370.

[43] Here Nicolas inserts 'like herself'; this assumes her identity with 'Philippe Chausy,' which seems to be right; see p. xxi.

[44] Issue Rolls of the Exchequer; Roll for Easter, 10 Ric. II.; Issue Roll, Mich., 44 Edw. III.; ed. Devon, 1835; p. 359.

[45] Writ of Privy Seal, dated March 10, 43 Edw. III., 1369. It mentions Philippa Chaucer, 'damoiselle,' and Philippa Pykart, 'veilleresse.' See Nicolas, life of Chaucer, Note EE.

[46] The Athenæum, Nov. 22, 1873; p. 663.

[47] Register of John of Gaunt, vol. i. fol. 159b; Notes and Queries, 7 Ser., v. 289; Trial-Forewords, p. 129.

[48] The same, vol. i. fol. 195b; N. and Q., 7 S., v. 289.

[49] The same, fol. 90; N. and Q. (as above).

[50] Issue Roll, Easter, 50 Edw. III.; N. and Q. (as in note 48).

[51] Register of John of Gaunt, vol. ii. foll. 33b, 49, 61; Nicolas, Note DD.

[52] Issue Roll, Mich., 8 Ric II., Sept. 20.

[53] Rymer's Fœdera, new ed.; vol. iii. p. 829. (G.)

[54] Issue Rolls of the Exchequer; Michaelmas, 42 Edw. III. (1367); Easter, 42 Edw. III. (1368); see Nicolas, Notes B and C. On Nov. 6, 1367, it is expressly noted that he received his pension himself (per manus proprias).

[55] Issue Rolls; Michaelmas, 43 Edw. III. (Nicolas.)

[56] Rymer's Fœdera; vol. iii. p. 845. The names of many of those who accompanied the Duke are printed in the same volume, pp. 842-4; but the name of Chaucer is not among them.

[57] The Athenæum, Nov. 29, 1873; p. 698. Exch. L. T. R. Wardrobe, 43 Edw. III. Box A. no. 8. (Ch. Soc., Trial-Forewords, p. 129).

[58] Exch. Q. R. Wardrobe, 64/3; leaf 16, back. See The Athenæum, Nov. 22, 1873, p. 663. A similar entry occurs in 1372; and again in 1373.

[59] Exch. Q. R. Wardrobe, 40/9. (Ch. Soc., Trial-Forewords, p. 129).

[60] Rot. Pat. 44 Edw. III. p. 2. m. 20. (G.)

[61] Issue Rolls of Thomas de Brantingham, 44 Edw. III., ed. F. Devon, 1835; p. 289.

[62] The same; p. 19.

[63] Issue Rolls, 45-47 Edw. III.

[64] The Athenæum, Nov. 22, 1873; p. 663.

[65] Rot. Franc. 46 Edw. III. m. 8. (G.) See Rymer's Fœdera, new edition, vol. iii. p. 964.

[66] Issue Roll, Michaelmas, 47 Edw. III., 1373. See Nicolas, Note D. In this document Chaucer is called 'armiger.'

[67] Issue Roll, Michaelmas, 48 Edw. III., 1374. See Nicolas, Note E. The Foreign Accounts, 47 Edw. III. roll 3, include Chaucer's accounts for this journey from Dec. 1, 1372, to May 23, 1373.

[68] The same.

[69] Much of Sir H. Nicolas's argument against this reasonable supposition is founded on the assertion that Chaucer was 'not acquainted with Italian'; which is now known to be the reverse of the truth. He even urges that not a single Italian word occurs in Chaucer's writings, whereas it would have been absurd for him to use words which his readers could not understand. Nevertheless, we find mention of a 'ducat in Venyse'; Ho. Fame, 1348.

[70] Rot. Pat., 48 Edw. III., p. i. m. 20. (G.) See Rymer's Fœdera, new ed. vol. iii. p. 1001.

[71] Writ of Privy Seal (in French); 18 Apr. 1 Ric. II. (1378); see Nicolas, Note K.

[72] Memorials of London, ed. Riley, p. 377. See § 26 below, p. xxxviii.

[73] Rot. Pat., 48 Edw. III., p. 1. m. 7, in Turri Londinensi; see Fœdera, new ed. vol. iii. p. 1004. (G.)

[74] Rot. Pat., 49 Edw. III., p. 2. m. 8.

[75] Calendarium Inquisitionum post Mortem, 46 Edw. III. no. 58.

[76] Rot. Claus., 1 Ric. II., m. 45. (G.) The petition, in French, is printed in full in Liber Custumarum, ed. Riley, ii. 466.

[77] Rot. Pat. 49 Edw. III., p. 2. m. 4. (G.) Calend. Inquis. post Mortem, 49 Edw. III., part 2, no. 40. A solidate of land is supposed to be a quantity of land (Blount suggests 12 acres) yielding 1s. of yearly rent. Sole means 'a pond'; see Pegge's Kenticisms. Soles is the name of a manor in Bonnington, not far from Chillenden, about half-way between Canterbury and Deal.

[78] Issue Roll, Mich., 50 Edw. III.

[79] Receiver's Accounts in the Office of the Duchy of Lancaster, from Mich. 1376 to Mich. 1377; see Nicolas, Note F.

[80] Rot. Pat., 50 Edw. III., p. i. m. 5. (G.)

[81] Issue Roll, Mich., 51 Edw. III.; see Nicolas, Note G.

[82] Rot. Franc., 51 Edw. III., m. 7. (G.)

[83] Issue Roll, Mich., 51 Edw. III.; see Nicolas, Note H.

[84] Issue Roll, Easter, 51 Edw. III.; Nicolas, Note I; Trial-Forewords, p. 131.

[85] Rymer's Fœdera, new ed., vol. iii. p. 1073 (in French).

[86] The same, p. 1076 (in French).

[87] Rot. Franc., 51 Edw III., m. 5. (G.)

[88] Issue Roll, Easter, 51 Edw. III. 'Galfrido Chaucer armigero regis misso in nuncium in secretis negociis domini Regis versus partes Francie.' See Nicolas, Note I.

[89] In 1377, Easter fell on March 29, Ash Wednesday on Feb. 11, and Shrove Tuesday on Feb. 10.

[90] Wardrobe Accounts of 50 and 51 Edw. III. (Nicolas).

[91] The same.

[92] Rymer's Fœdera, vol. vii. p. 184.

[93] Fine Roll, 1 Ric. II., pt. 2. m. 11; Athenæum, May 26, 1888, p. 661.

[94] This appears from the Patent of May 1, 1388, by which Chaucer's pensions were assigned to John Scalby; see Rot. Pat., 11 Ric. II., pt. 2. m. 1.

[95] Rot. Pat., 11 Ric. II., pt. 2. m. 1 (as in the last note); Writ of Privy Seal (in French), Apr. 18, 1 Ric. II. (see Nicolas, Note K); Issue Roll, Easter, 1 Ric. II. (May 14; see Nicolas, Note L).

[96] Issue Roll, Easter, 1 Ric. II., (as above).

[97] Rot. Franc., 1 Ric. II., pt. 2. m. 6.

[98] The same; see Nicolas, Note M.

[99] Issue Roll, Easter, 1 Ric. II.; Trial-Forewords, p. 131; Nicolas, Note L.

[100] Issue Roll, Mich., 2 Ric. II.; see Nicolas, Note N.

[101] Issue Roll, Easter, 2 Ric. II.; see Nicolas, Note O.

[102] Issue Roll, Mich. 3 Ric. II.; see Nicolas, Note P.

[103] The same; Easter, 3 Ric. II.; see the same, Note Q.

[104] The same; 4 Ric. II.; see the same, Note R.

[105] The Athenæum, Nov. 29, 1873, p. 698. From the Close Roll of 3 Ric. II. And see the whole matter discussed at length in Trial-Forewords, pp. 136-144 (Ch. Soc.).

[106] Issue Roll, 4 Ric. II.; see Nicolas, Note R; Devon's Issues of the Exchequer, 1837, p. 315.

[107] Godwin's Life of Chaucer, iv. 284.

[108] Thynne's Animadversions, &c., ed. F. J. Furnivall, p. 12, note 2; cf. The Athenæum, Nov. 29, 1873, p. 698.

[109] Issue Roll, Mich., 5 Ric. II.; see Notes and Queries, 3rd Ser. viii. 367.

[110] Rot. Pat., 5 Ric. II., pt. 2. m. 15. (G.)

[111] For these payments, see Issue Roll, Easter, 5 Ric. II.; in Notes and Queries, 3rd Ser. viii. 367.

[112] Issue Rolls, Easter, 5 and 6 Ric. II.; see N. and Q. (as above).

[113] Issue Roll, Mich., 7 Ric. II.; ib. It was usual to make up accounts at Michaelmas; which may explain 'the year late elapsed.'

[114] Issue Roll, Easter, 7 Ric. II.; ib.

[115] Rot. Claus., 8 Ric. II., m. 30. (G.)

[116] Notes and Queries, 3 S. viii. 368; The Athenæum, Apr. 14, 1888; p. 468.

[117] The Athenæum, Jan. 28, 1888; p. 116.

[118] Rot. Pat., 8 Ric. II., p. 2. m. 31. (G.)

[119] Issue Roll, Easter, 8 Ric. II.; see Notes and Queries, 3rd Ser. viii. 368.

[120] 'Ful ofte tyme he was knight of the shire'; Cant. Ta., A 356. It was usual, but not necessary, for such knights to reside within their county (Nicolas, Note S).

[121] Rot. Claus., 10 Ric. II., m. 16 d.

[122] See Annals of England, Oxford, 1876; p. 206. Sir Nicholas Brembre had been Lord Mayor of London for the three preceding years, 1383-5.

[123] Printed in Godwin's Life of Chaucer; in The Scrope and Grosvenor Roll, ed. Nicolas, i. 178; and in Moxon's Chaucer, p. xiii.

[124] An error for Rethel, near Rheims; see above, footnote 33.

[125] Letter-book in the Guildhall, discovered by Prof. Hales; see The Academy, Dec. 6, 1879, p. 410, and Hales, Folia Litteraria, p. 87. In Riley's Memorials of London, p. 469, is recorded a resolution by the corporation to let no more houses situated over a city-gate.

[126] Rot. Pat., 10 Ric. II., p. 1. m. 5 and m. 9. Perhaps this new Controller was a descendant of the Henry Gisors who was Sheriff of London in 1328.

[127] It was once a fashion to ascribe his misfortunes to the part he was supposed to have taken with respect to a quarrel in 1384 between the court party and the citizens of London regarding John of Northampton, who had been Mayor in 1382. There is no evidence whatever to shew that Chaucer had anything to do with it, beyond an unauthorised and perhaps false interpretation of certain obscure passages in a piece called The Testament of Love, which (as is now known) he certainly did not write!

[128] Issue Roll, Easter, 10 Ric. II.

[129] Issue Rolls, Easter, 10 Ric. II.; Mich, and Easter, 11 Ric. II.

[130] Rot. Pat., 11 Ric. II., p. 2. m. 1. (G.) Nicolas remarks that a John Scalby, of Scarborough in Yorkshire, was one of the persons of that town who were excepted from the king's pardon for insurrection in October, 1382; Rot. Parl. vol. iii. p. 136. (Scalby is the name of a village near Scarborough.)

[131] Cf. 'at Eltham or at Shene'; Leg. Good Women, 497; but this passage is of an earlier date.

[132] Rot. Pat., 13 Ric. II., p. 1. m. 30. (G.)

[133] The Athenæum, Jan. 28, 1888; p. 116; Trial-Forewords, p. 133.

[134] Originalia, 13 Ric. II, m. 30; Trial-Forewords, p. 133.

[135] The Athenæum, Feb. 7, 1874; p. 196.

[136] Collinson, Hist, of Somersetshire, iii. 54-74; The Athenæum, Nov. 20, 1886, p. 672; Life-Records (Chaucer Soc.), p. 117.

[137] Rot. Pat., 14 Ric. II., m. 33; Issue Roll, Easter, 13 Ric. II. (G.); Trial-Forewords, p. 133.

[138] The Athenæum, Feb. 7 and 14, 1874, pp. 196, 227; Life-Records (Ch. Soc.), p. 5.

[139] Rot. Pat., 14 Ric. II., p. 2. m. 24: 'quem dilectus serviens noster Galfridus Chaucer clericus operationum nostrarum sub se deputavit'; &c. 'Clericus' is here literal; 'clerk' of the works.

[140] Afterwards Sheriff of London, viz. in 1417-8 (Fabyan).

[141] Archæologia, vol. xxxiv. 45.

[142] Rot. Pat., 15 Ric. II., p. 1, m. 27; see Godwin, Life of Chaucer, iv. 67.

[143] Issue Rolls, Mich. and Easter, 15 Ric. II.; and Easter, 16 Ric. II.

[144] Rot. Pat., 17 Ric. II., pt. 2. m. 35; printed in full in Godwin's Life of Chaucer, and again in Furnivall's Trial-Forewords to the Minor Poems, p. 26.

[145] Issue Roll, Mich., 18 Ric. II.; see Nicolas, Note U.

[146] Issue Rolls, Mich. and Easter, 18 Ric. II., and Mich., 19 Ric. II.; see Nicolas, Notes U, V, and W.

[147] Rot. Claus., 19 Ric. II. m. 8 d.

[148] Issue Roll, Mich., 21 Ric. II. See Nicolas, Note X.

[149] Issue Roll, Mich., 21 Ric. II. See Nicolas, Note X.

[150] The Athenæum, Sept. 13, 1879; p. 338.

[151] Rot. Pat., 21 Ric. II., p. 3. m. 26. (G.)

[152] Issue Roll, Easter, 21 Ric. II. See Nicolas, Note Y.

[153] The Athenæum, Jan. 28, 1888; p. 116.

[154] Rot. Pat., 22 Ric. I., p. 1. m. 8. (G.)

[155] Issue Roll, Mich., 22 Ric. II.; see Nicolas, Note Z.

[156] Rot. Pat., 1 Hen. IV., p. 1. m. 18; and p. 5. m. 12. (G.)

[157] See Issue Roll, Easter, 1 Hen. IV.; in Nicolas, Note BB.

[158] Godwin, Life of Chaucer, iv. 365, where the document is printed; Hist. MSS. Commission, i. 95.

[159] Issue Roll, Mich., 1 Hen IV.; see Nicolas, Note AA.

[160] Issue Roll, Easter, 1 Hen. IV.; see Nicolas, Note BB.

[161] Stowe's Survey of London, ed. Thoms, p. 171; Nicolas, Life of Chaucer.

[162] Rot. Pat., 1 Hen. IV., p. 1. m. 10.

[163] Rot. Pat., 4 Hen. IV., m. 19; Rot. Parl. iv. 178 b.

[164] Rot. Pat., 12 Hen. IV., m. 34.

[165] Rot. Norman., 5 Hen. V., m. 7; ed. 1835, p. 284.

[166] Rot. Parl. vol. iv. p. 35.

[167] Rot. Pat., 12 Hen. IV., m. 7.

[168] It actually begins by quoting two lines from the Knightes Tale, A 1785-6; so it is later than 1386. There is at least one non-Chaucerian rime, viz. at l. 61, where gren-e (dissyllabic in Chaucer) rimes with the pp. been. See p. 39 below.

[169] The seal has lately been re-examined by experts, after application to the Record Office by Dr. Furnivall. See Archæologia, xxxiv. 42, where an engraving of the seal is (inexactly) given, and the deed is printed at length.

[170] Collinson, Hist. of Somersetshire, iii. 54-74; Life-Records, p. 117.

[171] MS. in Lincoln College, p. 377, quoted in Chalmers' English Poets, vol. i. p. x; Letter by Prof. Hales to the Athenæum, Mar. 31, 1888; Hales, Folia Litteraria, p. 109; Lounsbury, Studies, i. 108.

[172] So says Nicolas; 'evidently' means that such is the most likely explanation. The O. F. roe (Lat. rota) means 'a wheel'; and roet is its diminutive.

[173] She is described as 'the most renowned Lady Katherine de Roelt [error for Roet or Roett] deceased, late Duchess of Lancaster,' and as having had 'divers inheritances in the county of Hainault,' in Rot. Pat., 13 Hen. IV., p. 1. m. 35; see Rymer's Fœdera, viii. 704, and the Account of the Swynford family in the Excerpta Historica, p. 158. Nicolas, Note CC.

[174] This seems to be the sole trace of Sir Payne Roet's existence.

[175] The Testament of Love was greatly relied upon by Godwin and others. They thence inferred that Chaucer was mixed up with the dispute as to the appointment of John of Northampton to the mayoralty of London in 1382; that he was imprisoned; that he fled to Zealand; that he was in exile for two years; that, on his return, he was sent to the Tower for three years, and not released till 1389; with more rubbish of the same sort. However, it so happens that Chaucer did not write this piece (see p. 35, note 4). More than this, I have lately discovered that the initial letters of the chapters form an acrostic, which reads thus: Margaret of virtw, have merci on tsknvi. The last word may be an anagram for Kitsvn, i. e. Kitson; it is certainly not an anagram for Chaucer. See my letter in The Academy, Mar. 11, 1893, p. 222.

[176] Sir H. Nicolas says that some have inferred that Chaucer was living near Oxford in 1391, and refers to Ast. prol. 7, which mentions 'oure orizonte.' We are not justified in drawing such an inference.

[177] Prof. Lounsbury includes H. F. 995, where the poet declines to be taught astronomy (under the most uncomfortable circumstances) because he is 'too old.' Any man of thirty (or less) might have said the same; the passage tells us nothing at all.

[178] Sir H. Nicolas says that, in L. G. W. 189, he alludes to his poem called The Flower and the Leaf. But that poem is not his, though its title was doubtless suggested by the expressions which Chaucer there uses.

[179] Mr. Wright printed his text from MS. Reg. D. vi. Dr. Furnivall gives these passages from MS. Harl. 4866, in his edition of Hoccleve's Minor Poems, p. xxxi. I give a corrected text, due to a collation of these copies, with very slight alterations.

[180] Or, and lerned lyte or naught (MS. Harl. 4866).

[181] So Harl.; Reg. Of rethoryk fro vs; to Tullius.

[182] Both MSS. have hyer (= higher); an obvious error for heyr (= heir).

[183] I think not; it is too short. I take it to be a small pen-knife in a sheath; useful for making erasures. So Todd, Illustrations of Chaucer, s. v. Anelace; Fairholt, on Costume in England, s. v. Knives.

[184] I see no reason for placing this after 1372; surely ll. 36-56 (from Dante) are a later insertion. Observe 'us wrecches' in G. 32, and 'Me wrecche' in G. 58. These parallel lines must (I think) have once been in closer proximity.

[185] It is not very likely that he ever finished his translation, when we consider his frequent habit of leaving his works incomplete, and the enormous length of the French text (22074 lines in Méon's edition).

[186] By the spelling malady(e), I mean that the word must be pronounced malady in the text, whereas the Chaucerian form is malady-ë in four syllables. And so in other cases.

[187] Doubtless the author meant to employ the form quoynt or coint; but Chaucer has queynt, Cant. Ta. A 2333, G 752.

[188] Courtepy rimes with sobrely; Cant. Ta. prol. 289.

[189] As to awry (or awry-e?), we have little evidence beyond the present passage.

[190] Enemy rimes with I, Cant. Ta. A 1643, royally, id. 1793; &c.

[191] As it is the natural instinct of many critics to claim for themselves even small discoveries, I note that this paragraph was written in July, 1891, and that the curious, but not very important fact above announced, was first noticed by me some three months previously.

[192] The calculation is as follows. A quire of 16 pages, at 24 lines a page, contains 384 lines. Three such quires contain about 1152 lines, which, added to 5810 (in A and B), bring us to l. 6962 (say, 6964). In the fourth quire, if A, B, C, &c., be successive pages, these pages contained the lines following. A, 6965-6988; B, 6989-7012; C, 7013-36; D, 7037-60; E, 7061-84; F, 7085-7108; G (25 lines), 7109-33; H (25 lines), 7134-7158; I (25 lines), 7159-7183; K (25 lines), 7184-7208; L, 7209-32; M, 7233-56; N, 7257-80; O, 7281-7304; P, 7305-28; Q, 7329-52.

[193] I have been greatly assisted in this matter by D. Donaldson, Esq., who gave me some beautifully executed photographic copies of three pages of the MS., which I have shewn to many friends, including Mr. Bond and Mr. Thompson at the British Museum.

[194] The allusion to prince Edward, 'son of the lord of Windsor' (see note to l. 1250), is not in all the copies; so it may have been added afterwards. Edward I. was not born till 1239.

[195] Some copies are dated 1814; but I can detect no difference in them, except that the later copies have an additional frontispiece.

[196] The Legend of Good Women is here meant: and 'xxv.' is certainly an error for 'xix.'

[197] Printed separately in the present edition, in vol. iii.

[198] Of course I mean that dy-e is the Chaucerian form; the author of the Lamentation pronounced it differently, viz. as dy.

[199] See the excellent treatise by Dr. E. Köppel entitled 'Laurents de Premierfait und John Lydgates Bearbeitungen von Boccaccios De Casibus Virorum Illustrium'; München, 1885.

[200] Not Ovid, but Statius; Lydgate makes a slip here; see note to IV. 245.

[201] In Lydgate's Lyfe of St. Albon, ed. Hortsmann, l. 15, this line appears in the more melodious form—'The golden trumpet of the House of Fame.'

[202] Hoccleve's poem entitled 'Moder of God' is erroneously attributed to Chaucer in two Scottish copies (Arch. Seld. B 24, and Edinb. 18. 2. 8). But it occurs among 16 poems, all by Hoccleve, in a MS. in the collection of the late Sir Thos. Phillipps, as already noted in § 1 above. A few of these poems (not including the 'Moder of God') were printed from this MS. in the edition of some of 'Occleve's Poems' by G. Mason, in 1796.

[203] Printed 'Six couplets'; clearly a slip of the pen.

[204] They are printed in full below, on p. 46.

[205] i. e. the Parliament of Foules.

[206] La Belle Dame sans Merci, a poem translated from the French originally written by 'Maister Aleyn,' chief secretary to the King of France. Certainly not by Chaucer; for Alain Chartier, the author of the original French poem, was only about four years old when Chaucer died. Moreover, it is now known that the author of the English poem was Sir Richard Ros. See p. 35, note 2.

[207] All in Caxton's edition of the Minor Poems, described above, p. 27.

[208] Both in the small quarto volume described above, p. 27.

[209] Speght added three more pieces, but they are also found in ed. 1550 and ed. 1542, at the end of the Table of Contents; see below, p. 45, nos. 66-8.

[210] Jack Upland is in prose, and in the form of a succession of questions directed against the friars.

[211] I have often made use of a handy edition with the following titlepage: 'The Poetical Works of Geoffrey Chaucer, with an Essay on his Language and Versification and an Introductory Discourse, together with Notes and a Glossary. By Thomas Tyrwhitt. London, Edward Moxon, Dover Street, 1855.' I cannot but think that this title-page may have misled others, as it for a long time misled myself. As a fact, Tyrwhitt never edited anything beyond the Canterbury Tales, though he has left us some useful notes upon the Minor Poems, and his Glossary covers the whole ground. The Minor Poems in this edition are merely reprinted from the black-letter editions.

[212] Probably copies slightly differ. The book described by me is a copy in my own possession, somewhat torn at the beginning, and imperfect at the end. But the three missing leaves only refer to Lydgate's Storie of Thebes.

[213] I print in italics the names of the pieces which I reject as spurious. In the case of The Romaunt of the Rose, the first 1705 lines are genuine; but the rest, which is spurious, is more than three-fourths of the whole. See p. 1 above.

[214] I. e. the folios are misnumbered. Piece 8 begins with fol. ccxliiii, which is followed by ccxlvj (sic), ccxli (sic), ccxli (repeated), ccxlii, and ccxliii; which brings us to 'ccxliiii' over again.

[215] Marked Fol. cclxxvj by mistake.

[216] Nos. 28-30 are in no previous edition.

[217] Stowe did not observe that this had occurred already, in the midst of poem no. 33.

[218] Miscalled Fol. cccxxxix. Also, the next folio is called cccxlviij., after which follows cccxlix., and so on.

[219] In the Preface to Morris's Chaucer, p. x, we are told that the editor took his copy of this poem from Thynne's edition of 1532. This is an oversight; for it does not occur there; Stowe's edition is meant.

[220] 'Thomas Occleve mentions it himself, as one of his own compositions, in a Dialogue which follows his Complaint, MS. Bodley 1504.'—Tyrwhitt.

[221] See Political, Religious, and Love Poems, ed. Furnivall, p. 52. Cf. Englische Studien, x. 206.

[222] I have found the reference. It is Shirley who says so, in a poetical 'introduction'; see MS. Addit. 16165, fol. 3.

[223] It runs thus:—'Quod loue, I shall tel thee, this lesson to learne, myne owne true seruaunte, the noble Philosophicall Poete in Englishe, which euermore hym busieth & trauaileth right sore, my name to encrease, wherefore all that willen me good, owe to doe him worship and reuerence both; truly his better ne his pere, in schole of my rules, coud I neuer finde: He, quod she, in a treatise that he made of my seruaunt Troilus, hath this matter touched, & at the full this question [of predestination] assoiled. Certainly his noble saiyngs can I not amend; in goodness of gentil manlich spech, without any maner of nicitie of starieres (sic) imaginacion, in wit and in good reason of sentence, he passeth al other makers'; ed. 1561. (Read storieres, story-writer's.)

[224] Hoccleve appeals to St. Margaret, in his Letter of Cupid, st. 6 from the end. Lydgate wrote 'the Lyfe of St. Margarete.' I have a strong feeling that the poem is one of Lydgate's. Lines 24-26 seem to be imitated from Chaucer's Legend of Good Women, ll. 197-9.

[225] I leave this sentence as I wrote it in 1888; shortly afterwards, the attribution of no. 57 to Chaucer received confirmation from a note in the Phillipps MS. See p. 75.

[226] There is another copy of The Craft of Lovers in MS. Harl. 2251. It is there dated 1459.

[227] I. e. Joan of Navarre, who was married to Henry IV in 1403.

[228] A good French Virelai is one by Eustace Deschamps, ed. Tarbé, 1849; i. 25.

[229] See remarks on this poem in The New English, by T. L. Kington Oliphant, i. 402.

[230] It is much to be regretted that Prof. Morley, in his new edition of his English Writers, still clings to the notion of 'the Court of Love' being Chaucer's. It is sufficient to say that, after 1385, Chaucer's poems are of a far higher order, especially as regards correctness of idiom and rhythm. Our knowledge of the history of the English language has made some advance of late years, and it is no longer possible to ignore all the results of linguistic criticism.

[231] A great peculiarity of this poem is the astonishing length, of the sentences. Many of them run to fifty lines or more. As to the MS., see Thynne's Animadversions, ed. Furnivall, 1875, p. 30. A second MS. is now in the British Museum (Addit. 10303), also written about 1550.

[232] The authoress had an eye for colour, and some knowledge, one would think, of heraldry. There is a tinsel-like glitter about this poem which gives it a flashy attractiveness, in striking contrast to the easy grace of Chaucer's workmanship. In the same way, the authoress of 'The Assembly of Ladies' describes the colours of the dresses of the characters, and, like the authoress of 'The Flower and the Leaf,' quotes occasional scraps of French.

[233] Plesir may be meant, but Chaucer does not use it; he says plesaunce.

[234] It is so termed in a table of contents in MS. Trin. Coll. Cam. R. 3. 15, which (as noted on p. 45) contains all three of the pieces here numbered 66, 67, and 68.

[235] The copy of no. XXI. in MS. Fairfax 16 has not been printed. I made a transcript of it myself. There is another unprinted copy in MS. Harl. 7578. I also copied out nos. XII., XXII., XXIII.

[236] Called 'Cm.' in the footnotes to vol. iv.

[237] There are two copies in MS. P.; they may be called P 1 and P 2.

[238] I make but little use of the copies in the second group.

[239] Two copies; may be called T 1 and T 2.

[240] Two copies; F 1 and F 2. The copy in P. is unprinted.

[241] Two copies; P 1 and P 2.

[242] Also a Balade, beginning 'Victorious kyng,' printed in G. Mason's edition of Occleve, 1796; as well as The Book of Cupid, which is another name for the Cuckoo and Nightingale.

[243] Unless they were composed, as Shirley says, by one Halsham, and adopted by Lydgate as subjects for new poems; see pp. 48, 57.

[244] i. e. in the ballad-measure, or 7-line stanzas.

[245] One page of this, in Shirley's writing, has been reproduced in facsimile for the Chaucer Society.

[246] This page has been reproduced, in facsimile, for the Chaucer Society.

[247] It is also twice attributed to Chaucer in MS. P.

[248] I follow the account in Morley's English Writers, 1867, ii. 204; the name is there given as de Guilevile; but M. Paul Meyer writes De Deguilleville.

[249] Morley says 1330; a note in the Camb. MS. Ff. 6. 30 says 1331.

[250] Edited by Mr. W. Aldis Wright for the Roxburghe Club in 1869; see p. 164 of that edition. And see a note in Warton's Hist. Eng. Poetry, ed. Hazlitt, 1871, vol. iii. p. 67.

[251] See Furnivall's Trial Forewords, pp. 13-15, and p. 100, for further information.

[252] The initial E stands for et. See next note.

[253] The initial C stands for cetera. It was usual to place &c. (= et cetera) at the end of the alphabet.

[254] Chaucer speaks of writing compleintes; Cant. Ta. 11260 (F. 948).

[255] Cf. 'this eight yere'; Book of the Duchesse, 37.

[256] 'Philippa Chaucer was a lady of the bedchamber, and therefore married, in 1366'; N. and Q. 7 S. v. 289.

[257] But Ten Brink (Sprache und Verskunst, p. 174) dates it about 1370-1372.

[258] 'O ye Herines, nightes doughtren three'; Troilus, last stanza of the invocation in bk. iv.

[259] Most of the passages which he quotes are not extant in the English version of the Romaunt. Where we can institute a comparison between that version and the Book of the Duchess, the passages are differently worded. Cf. B. Duch. 420, with R. Rose, 1393.

[260] i. e. y-treted, treated.

[261] See l. 647. The royal tercel eagle is, then, Richard II; and the formel eagle is Queen Anne; the other two tercel eagles were her other two suitors. See Froissart, bk. ii. c. 86.

[262] Rather, 1382. Ch. could not have foretold a year's delay.

[263] It is quite impossible that the poem can refer, as some say, to the marriage of John of Gaunt in 1359, or even to that of de Coucy in 1364; see Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 70. It is plainly much later than the Book of the Duchess, as the internal evidence incontestably shews.

[264] I leave the remarks upon this poem as I first wrote them in 1888. Very soon afterwards, Dr. Furnivall actually found the ascription of the poem to Chaucer in MS. Phillipps 9053. I think this proves that I know how to estimate internal evidence aright. MS. Phillips 9053 also completes the poem, by contributing an additional stanza, which, in MS. Harl. 78, has been torn away.

[265] mix.

[266] fleeces.

[267] hushed, silent.

[268] rewards.

[269] shed.

[270] dug.

[271] lumps.

[272] See Todd, Illustrations of Chaucer, p. 116; and see above, pp. 55, 56.

[273] The critics who brush aside such a statement as this should learn to look at MSS. for themselves. The make-up of this MS. shews that it is essentially a Chaucer-Lydgate MS.; and Merciless Beautee is not Lydgate's. To weigh the evidence of a MS., it must be personally inspected by such as have had some experience.

[274] Middle-English roundels are very scarce. I know of one by Hoccleve, printed by Mason in 1796, and reprinted in Todd's Illustrations, p. 372; and there is a poor one by Lydgate, in Halliwell's edition of his Minor Poems, p. 10. Two more (one being by Lydgate) are given in Ritson, Anc. Songs, i. 128, 129.

[275] I do not think, as some have guessed, that 'Tregentil Chaucer' means 'Tres gentil Chaucer.' Those who think so had better look at the MS. I see no sense in it; nor do I know why tres should be spelt tre.

[276] A similar note was made in MS. Cotton, Otho. A. xviii., now destroyed. Todd printed the poem from this MS. in his Illustrations of Chaucer, p. 131; it belongs to the 'first group.'

[277] high head.

[278] admonishes.

[279] weighed down.

[280] The poem must have been written not many years before 1413, the date of the accession of Henry V. In 1405, the ages of the princes were 17, 16, 15, and 14 respectively. Shirley's title to the poem was evidently written after 1415, as John was not created Duke of Bedford until that year.

[281] See Furnivall's edition of Borde's Introduction of Knowledge, E. E. T. S., 1870. At p. 31 of the Forewords, the editor says there is no evidence for attributing 'Scoggins Iests' to Borde.

[282] Froissart, bk. iv. c. 105 (Johnes' translation).

[283] See Johnes' translation of Froissart, 1839; ii. 612-7.

[284] It would be decent, on the part of such critics as do not examine the MSS., to speak of my opinions in a less contemptuous tone.

[285] Unless, which is more probable, the Parliament of Foules reproduces, nearly, two lines from the present poem.

[286] Perhaps 'tofore' means 'for use in,' or 'to be presented in'; and 'November' was some special occasion.

[287] As, e. g. in the curious satirical ballad 'Against the King of Almaigne,' printed in Percy's Ballads, Series II. Book I, and in Wright's 'Political Songs,' p. 69. Henry was also called Henry of Winchester, from the place of his birth.

[288] The thief is the Ribauld; the ploughboy, the Labourer; the apothecary, the Physicien; the soldier, the Garde; the tailor, the Marchaunt; the tinker, the Smyth. Only two are changed.

[289] Koch instances góddes in the Envoy to Scogan, 15, which he assumes was góddis. Not at all; it is like Chaucer's rime of clérkes, derk is; the -es being unaccented. This could never produce goddís, and still less goddísse.

[290] In old French, a tard means 'slowly, late'; later French drops a, and uses tard only.

[291] Voto, 'hollow, voide, empty'; Florio.

[292] The MS. has And for Than (wrongly).

	Origenes upon the Maudeleyne (See L. G. W., A 418; lost.) Book of the Leoun (C. T., I. 1087; lost). (a) Ceys and Alcion (C. T., B. 57; Bk. Duch. 62-214).—A. Romaunt of the Rose, ll. 1-1705; rest lost.—A. A. B. C.; in M. P. I.—1.
1369.	Book of the Duchesse; M. P. III.—A. (a) Lyf of Seynt Cecyle (L. G. W., B 426; C. T., G. 1-553).—2^[184]. (a) Monkes Tale (parts of); except B. 3565-3652.—1.
[lxiii] ab. 1372-3.	(a) Clerkes Tale; except E. 995-1008, and the Envoy.—2. (a) Palamon and Arcite (scraps preserved).—2. Compleint to his Lady; M. P. VI.—2. 3. 4. An Amorous Compleint, made at Windsor; M. P. XXII.—2. Compleint unto Pitè; M. P. II.—2. Anelida and Arcite (10 stt. from Palamon); M. P. VII.—2. 5. 6. 5 b. (a) The Tale of Melibeus.—P. (a) The Persones Tale.—P. (a) Of the Wreched Engendring of Mankinde (L. G. W., A. 414; cf. C. T., B. 99-121, &c.)—2. (a) Man of Lawes Tale; amplified in C. T.—2.
1377-81.	Translation of Boethius.—P.
1379?	Compleint of Mars; M. P. IV.—2. 7.
1379-83.	Troilus and Criseyde (3 stt. from Palamon).—2. Wordes to Adam (concerning Boece and Troilus); M. P. VIII.—2. The Former Age (from Boece); M. P. IX.—1. Fortune (hints from Boece); M. P. X.—1 b. 2 c.
1382.	Parlement of Foules (16 stt. from Palamon); M. P. V.—2. 8.
1383-4.	House of Fame.—A.
1385-6.	Legend of Good Women.—9.
1386.	Canterbury Tales begun.
1387-8.	Central period of the Canterbury Tales.
1389, &c.	The Tales continued.—B. 1. 2. 9. 10. P.
1391.	Treatise on the Astrolabe.—P.
1393?	Compleint of Venus; M. P. XVIII.—1 b. 11.
1393.	Lenvoy to Scogan; M. P. XVI.—2.
1396.	Lenvoy to Bukton; M. P. XVII.—1.
1399.	Envoy to Compleint to his Purse; M. P. XIX.—12.

α ——	β ——	Thynne.
	γ ——	Tanner MS.
		δ ——	Fairfax MS. Bodley MS.

Tes. vii. stanzas 51-60; cf. Parl. Foules, ll. 183-259.
'With whom going forward, she saw that [i. e. Mount Cithaeron] In every view suave and charming; In guise of a garden bosky and beautiful, And greenest, full of plants, Of fresh grass, and every new flower; And therein rose fountains living and clear; And, among the other plants it abounded in, Myrtle seemed to her more than other.	Colla quale oltre andando vide quello Per ogni vista soave ed ameno, A guisa d'un giardin fronzuto e bello E di piante verdissimo ripieno, D'erbetta fresca e d'ogni fior novello; E fonti vive e chiare vi surgieno, E in fra l'altre piante, onde abbondava, Mortine più che altro le sembrava.
P. F. 190. 'Here she heard amid the branches sweetly Birds singing of almost all kinds: Upon which [branches] also in like wise She saw them with delight making their nests. Next among the fresh shadows quickly She saw rabbits go hither and thither, And timid deer and fawns, And many other dearest little beasts.	Quivi sentì pe' rami dolcemente Quasi d'ogni maniera ucce' cantare, Sopra de' quali ancor similemente Gli vide con diletto i nidi a fare: Poscia fra l'ombre fresche prestamente Vidi conigli in qua e in là andare, E timidenti cervi e cavrioli, E molti altri carissimi bestiuoli.
P. F. 197. 'In like wise here every instrument She seemed to hear, and delightful chaunt: Wherefore passing with pace not slow, And looking about, somewhat within herself suspended At the lofty place and beautiful adornment She saw it replete in almost every corner [69] With spiritlings which, flying here and there, Went to their bourne. Which she looking at,	Similemente quivi ogni stromento Le parve udire e dilettoso canto; Onde passando con passo non lento, E rimirando, in sè sospesa alquanto Dell' alto loco e del bell' ornamento; Ripieno il vide quasi in ogni canto Di spirite', che qua e là volando Gieno a lor posta; a' quali essa guardando,
P. F. 211. 'Among the bushes beside a fountain Saw Cupid forging arrows— He having the bow set down by his feet; Which [arrows when] selected his daughter Voluptas Tempered in the waves. And settled down With them was Ease [Ozio, Otium]; whom she saw That he, with Memory, steeled his darts With the steel that she [Voluptas] first tempered.	Tra gli albuscelli ad una fonta allato Vide Cupido a fabbricar saette, Avendo egli a' suoi piè l'arco posato, Le qua' sua figlia Voluttade elette Nell' onde temperava, ed assettato Con lor s'era Ozio, il quale ella vedette, Che con Memoria l'aste sue ferrava De' ferri ch' ella prima temperava.
P. F. 218. 'And then she saw in that pass Grace [Leggiadria], With Adorning [Adornezza] and Affability, And the wholly estrayed Courtesy; And she saw the Arts that have power To make others perforce do folly, In their aspect much disfigured. The Vain Delight of our form She saw standing alone with Gentilesse.	E poi vide in quel passo Leggiadria Con Adornezza ed Affabilitate, E la ismarrita in tutto Cortesia, E vide l'Arti ch' hanno potestate Di fare altrui a forza far follia, Nel loro aspetto molto isfigurate: Delia immagine nostra il van Diletto Con Gentilezza vide star soletto.
P. F. 225. 'Then she saw Beauty pass her by, Without any ornament, gazing on herself; And with her she saw Attraction [Piacevolezza] go,— She [the prayer] commending to herself both one and other. With them she saw standing Youth, Lively and adorned, making great feast: [70] And on the other side she saw madcap Audacity Going along with Glozings and Pimps.	Poi vide appresso a sè passar Bellezza Sanz' ornamento alcun sè riguardando, E vide gir con lei Piacevolezza, E l'una e l'altra seco commendando, Vide con loro starsi Giovinezza Destra ed adorna, molto festeggiando: E d'altra parte vide il folle Ardire Con Lusinghe e Ruffiani insieme gire.
P. F. 232. 'In mid the place, on lofty columns, She saw a temple of copper; round which She saw youths dancing and women— This one of them beautiful, and that one in fine raiment, Ungirdled, barefoot, only in their hair and gowns, Who spent the day in this alone. Then over the temple she saw doves hover And settle and coo.	In mezzo il loco sur alte colonne Di rame vide un tempio, al qual d'intorno Danzanti giovinetti vide e donne, Qual d'esse bella, e qual d'abito adorno, Iscinte, iscalze, in capei soli e'n gonne, Che in questo solo disponeano il giorno: Poi sopra il tempio vide volitare E posarsi colombe e mormorare.
P. F. 239. 'And near to the entry of the temple She saw that there sat quietly My lady Peace, who a curtain Moved lightly before the door. Next her, very subdued in aspect, Sat Patience discreetly, Pallid in look; and on all sides Around her she saw artful Promises.	E all'entrata del tempio vicina Vide che si sedava pianamente Monna Pace, la quale una cortina Movea innanzi alla porta lievemente; Appresso a lei in vista assai tapina Pacienza sedea discretamente; Pallida nell' aspetto, e d'ogni parte Intorno a lei vide Promesse ad arte.
P. F. 246. 'Then entering the temple, of Sighs She felt there an earthquake, which whirled All fiery with hot desires. This lit up all the altars [71] With new flames born of pangs; Each of which dripped with tears Produced by a woman cruel and fell Whom she there saw, called Jealousy	Poi dentro al tempio entrata, di sospiri Vi senti un terremoto, che girava Focoso tutto di caldi disiri: Questi gli altari tutti alluminava Di nuove fiamme nate di martiri, De' qua' ciascun di lagrime grondava, Mosse da una donna cruda e ria, Che vide lì, chiamata Gelosia:
P. F. 253. 'And in that [temple] she saw Priapus hold The highest place—in habit just such as Whoever would at night see him Could [do] when, braying, the animal Dullest of all awoke Vesta, who to his mind Was not a little—towards whom he in like guise Went: and likewise throughout the great temple She saw many garlands of diverse flowers.'	Ed in quel vide Priapo tenere Più sommo loco, in abito tal quale Chiunque il volle la notte vedere Potè, quando ragghiando l'animale Più pigro destò Vesta, che in calere Non poco gli era, in vêr di cui cotale Andava; e simil per lo tempio grande Di fior diversi assai vide grillande.
Tes. vii. 61, 62; cf. P. F. 281-294.
P. F. 281. 'Here many bows of the Chorus of Diana She saw hung up and broken; among which was That of Callisto, become the Arctic Bear. The apples were there of haughty Atalanta, who was sovereign in racing; And also the arms of that other proud one Who brought forth Parthenopaeus, Grandson to the Calydonian King Oeneus.	Quivi molti archi a' Cori di Diana Vide appiccati e rotti, in tra quali era Quel di Callisto fatta tramontana Orsa; le pome v'eran della fiera Atalanta che 'n correr fu sovrana; Ed ancor l'armi di quell' altra altiera Che partorì il bel Partenopeo Nipote al calidonio Re Eneo.
[72] P. F. 288. 'She saw there histories painted all about; Among which with finer work Of the spouse of Ninus she there Saw all the doings distinguished; and at foot of the mulberry-tree Pyramus and Thisbe, and the mulberries already distained; And she saw among these the great Hercules In the lap of Iole, and woeful Biblis Going piteous, soliciting Caunus.'	Videvi storie per tutto dipinte, In tra le qua' con più alto lavoro Della sposa di Nino ivi distinte L'opere tutte vide; e a piè del moro Piramo e Tisbe, e già le gelse tinte: E'l grand' Ercole vide tra costoro In grembo a Jole, e Bibli dolorosa Andar pregando Cauno pietosa.
Tes. vii. 63-66; cf. P. F. 260-280.
P. F. 260. 'But, as she saw not Venus, it was told her (Nor knew she by whom)—"In secreter Part of the temple stays she delighting. If thou wantest her, through that door quietly Enter." Wherefore she, without further demur, Meek of manner as she was, Approached thither to enter within, And do the embassy to her committed.	Ma non vedendo Vener, le fu detto, Nè conobbe da cui: 'In più sagreta Parte del tempio stassi ella a diletto: Se tu la vuoi, per quella porta, cheta Te n'entra': ond' essa, sanza altro rispetto, In abito qual era mansueta, Là si appressò per entrar dentro ad essa, E l'ambasciata fare a lei commessa.
P. F. 261. 'But there she, at her first coming, Found Riches guarding the portal— Who seemed to her much to be reverenced: And, being by her allowed to enter there, The place was dark to her at first going. But afterwards, by staying, a little light [73] She gained there; and saw her lying naked On a great bed very fair to see.	Ma essa lì nel primo suo venire Trovò Richezza la porta guardare; La qual le parve assai da riverire; E lasciata da lei quiv'entro entrare, Oscuro le fu il loco al primo gire; Ma poca luce poscia nello stare Lì prese, e vide lei nuda giacere Sopra un gran letto assai bella a vedere.
P. F. 267. 'But she had hair of gold, and shining Round her head without any tress. Her face was such that most people Have in comparison no beauty at all. The arms, breast, and outstanding apples, Were all seen; and every other part with a Texture so thin was covered That it shewed forth almost as [if] naked.	Ma avie d'oro i crini e rilucenti Intorno al capo sanza treccia alcuna: Il suo viso era tal che le più genti Hanno a rispetto bellezza nissuna: Le braccia, il petto e le poma eminenti Si vedien tutte, e ogni altra parte d'una Testa tanto sottil si ricopria, Che quasimente nuda comparia.
P. F. 274. 'The neck was fragrant with full a thousand odours. At one of her sides Bacchus was seated, At the other Ceres with her savours. And she in her hands held the apple, Delighting herself, which, to her sisters Preferred, she won in the Idean vale. And, having seen all this, she [the prayer] made her request, Which was conceded without denial.'	Olíva il collo ben di mille odori: Dall' un de' lati Bacco le sedea, Dall' altro Ceres cogli suoi savori: Ed essa il pomo per le man tenea, Sè dilettando, il quale alle sorori Prelata vinse nella valle Idea: E tutto ciò veduto posse il prego, Il qual fu conceduto senza niego.

FRAGMENT A. Many men seyn that in sweveninges Ther nis but fables and lesinges; But men may somme swevenes seen, Which hardely ne false been, 5 But afterward ben apparaunte. This may I drawe to waraunte An authour, that hight Macrobes, That halt not dremes false ne lees, But undoth us the avisioun 10 That whylom mette king Cipioun. And who-so sayth, or weneth it be A Iape, or elles [a] nycetee To wene that dremes after falle, Let who-so liste a fool me calle.	LE ROMAN DE LA ROSE. Maintes gens dient que en songes N'a se fables non et mençonges; Mais l'en puet tiex songes songier Qui ne sunt mie mençongier; Ains sunt après bien apparant. Si en puis bien trere à garant Ung acteur qui ot non Macrobes, Qui ne tint pas songes à lobes; Ainçois escrist la vision 10 Qui avint au roi Cipion. Quiconques cuide ne qui die Que soit folor ou musardie De croire que songes aviengne, Qui ce voldra, pour fol m'en tiengne;
[94] 15 For this trowe I, and say for me, That dremes signifiaunce be Of good and harme to many wightes, That dremen in her slepe a-nightes Ful many thinges covertly, 20 That fallen after al openly. The Dream. Within my twenty yere of age, Whan that Love taketh his corage Of yonge folk, I wente sone To bedde, as I was wont to done, 25 And fast I sleep; and in sleping, Me mette swiche a swevening, That lykede me wonders wel; But in that sweven is never a del That it nis afterward befalle, 30 Right as this dreem wol telle us alle. Now this dreem wol I ryme aright, To make your hertes gaye and light; For Love it prayeth, and also Commaundeth me that it be so 35 And if ther any aske me, Whether that it be he or she, How [that] this book [the] which is here Shal hote, that I rede you here;	Car endroit moi ai-je fiance Que songe soit senefiance Des biens as gens et des anuiz, Car li plusors songent de nuitz Maintes choses couvertement 20 Que l'en voit puis apertement. Où vintiesme an de mon aage, Où point qu'Amors prend le paage Des jones gens, couchiez estoie Une nuit, si cum je souloie, Et me dormoie moult forment, Si vi ung songe en mon dormant, Qui moult fut biax, et moult me plot, Mès onques riens où songe n'ot Qui avenu trestout ne soit, 30 Si cum li songes recontoit. Or veil cel songe rimaier, Por vos cuers plus fere esgaier, Qu'Amors le me prie et commande; Et se nus ne nule demande Comment ge voil que cilz Rommanz Soit apelez, que ge commanz:
[95] It is the Romance of the Rose, 40 In which al the art of love I close. The mater fair is of to make; God graunte in gree that she it take For whom that it begonnen is! And that is she that hath, y-wis, 45 So mochel prys; and ther-to she So worthy is biloved be, That she wel oughte of prys and right, Be cleped Rose of every wight. That it was May me thoughte tho, 50 It is fyve yere or more ago; That it was May, thus dremed me, In tyme of love and Iolitee, That al thing ginneth waxen gay, For ther is neither busk nor hay 55 In May, that it nil shrouded been, And it with newe leves wreen. These wodes eek recoveren grene, That drye in winter been to sene; And the erthe wexeth proud withalle, 60 For swote dewes that on it falle, And [al] the pore estat forget In which that winter hadde it set,	Ce est li Rommanz de la Rose, Où l'art d'Amors est tote enclose. La matire en est bone et noeve: 40 Or doint Diez qu'en gré le reçoeve Cele por qui ge l'ai empris. C'est cele qui tant a de pris, Et tant est digne d'estre amée, Qu'el doit estre Rose clamée. Avis m'iere qu'il estoit mains, Il a jà bien cincq ans, au mains, En Mai estoie, ce songoie, El tems amoreus plain de joie, El tens où tote riens s'esgaie, 50 Que l'en ne voit boisson ne haie Qui en Mai parer ne se voille, Et covrir de novele foille; Li bois recovrent lor verdure, Qui sunt sec tant cum yver dure, La terre méisme s'orgoille Por la rousée qui la moille, Et oblie la poverté Où ele a tot l'yver esté.
[96] And than bicometh the ground so proud That it wol have a newe shroud, 65 And maketh so queynt his robe and fayr That it hath hewes an hundred payr Of gras and floures, inde and pers, And many hewes ful dyvers: That is the robe I mene, y-wis, 70 Through which the ground to preisen is. The briddes, that han left hir song, Whyl they han suffred cold so strong In wedres grille, and derk to sighte, Ben in May, for the sonne brighte, 75 So glade, that they shewe in singing, That in hir herte is swich lyking, That they mote singen and be light. Than doth the nightingale hir might To make noyse, and singen blythe. 80 Than is blisful, many a sythe, The chelaundre and the papingay. Than yonge folk entenden ay For to ben gay and amorous, The tyme is than so savorous. 85 Hard is his herte that loveth nought In May, whan al this mirth is wrought;	Lors devient la terre si gobe, 60 Qu'ele volt avoir novele robe; Si scet si cointe robe faire, Que de colors i a cent paire, D'erbes, de flors indes et perses, Et de maintes colors diverses. C'est la robe que ge devise, Por quoi la terre miex se prise. Li oisel, qui se sunt téu Tant cum il ont le froit éu, Et le tens divers et frarin, 70 Sunt en Mai, por le tens serin, Si lié qu'il monstrent en chantant Qu'en lor cuer a de joie tant, Qu'il lor estuet chanter par force. Li rossignos lores s'efforce De chanter et de faire noise; Lors s'esvertue, et lors s'envoise Li papegaus et la kalandre: Lors estuet jones gens entendre A estre gais et amoreus 80 Por le tens bel et doucereus. Moult a dur cuer qui en Mai n'aime,
[97] Whan he may on these braunches here The smale briddes singen clere Hir blisful swete song pitous; 90 And in this sesoun delytous, Whan love affrayeth alle thing, Me thoughte a-night, in my sleping, Right in my bed, ful redily, That it was by the morowe erly, 95 And up I roos, and gan me clothe; Anoon I wissh myn hondes bothe; A sylvre nedle forth I drogh Out of an aguiler queynt y-nogh, And gan this nedle threde anon; 100 For out of toun me list to gon The sowne of briddes for to here, That on thise busshes singen clere. And in the swete sesoun that leef is, With a threde basting my slevis, 105 Aloon I wente in my playing, The smale foules song harkning; That peyned hem ful many a payre To singe on bowes blosmed fayre. Iolif and gay, ful of gladnesse,	Quant il ot chanter sus la raime As oisiaus les dous chans piteus. En iceli tens déliteus, Que tote riens d'amer s'effroie, Sonjai une nuit que j'estoie, Ce m'iert avis en mon dormant, Qu'il estoit matin durement; De mon lit tantost me levai, 90 Chauçai moi et mes mains lavai. Lors trais une aguille d'argent D'un aguiller mignot et gent, Si pris l'aguille à enfiler. Hors de vile oi talent d'aler, Por oïr des oisiaus les sons Qui chantoient par ces boissons. En icele saison novele, Cousant mes manches à videle, M'en alai tot seus esbatant, 100 Et les oiselés escoutant, Qui de chanter moult s'engoissoient Par ces vergiers qui florissoient. Jolis, gais et plains de léesce,
[98] 110 Toward a river I gan me dresse, That I herde renne faste by; For fairer playing non saugh I Than playen me by that riveer, For from an hille that stood ther neer, 115 Cam doun the streem ful stif and bold. Cleer was the water, and as cold As any welle is, sooth to seyne; And somdel lasse it was than Seine, But it was straighter wel away. 120 And never saugh I, er that day, The water that so wel lyked me; And wonder glad was I to see That lusty place, and that riveer; And with that water that ran so cleer 125 My face I wissh. Tho saugh I wel The botme paved everydel With gravel, ful of stones shene. The medewe softe, swote, and grene, Beet right on the water-syde. 130 Ful cleer was than the morow-tyde, And ful attempre, out of drede. Tho gan I walke through the mede, Dounward ay in my pleying,	Vers une riviere m'adresce. Que j'oi près d'ilecques bruire; Car ne me soi aillors déduire Plus bel que sus cele riviere. D'ung tertre qui près d'iluec iere Descendoit l'iaue grant et roide, 110 Clere, bruiant, et aussi froide Comme puiz, ou comme fontaine, Et estoit poi mendre de Saine, Mès qu'ele iere plus espanduë. Onques mès n'avoie véuë Cele iaue qui si bien coroit: Moult m'abelissoit et séoit A regarder le leu plaisant. De l'iaue clere et reluisant Mon vis rafreschi et lavé. 120 Si vi tot covert et pavé Le fons de l'iaue de gravele; La praérie grant et bele Très au pié de l'iaue batoit. Clere et serie et bele estoit La matinée et atrempeé; Lors m'en alai parmi la prée Contre val l'iaue esbanoiant,
[99] The river-syde costeying. 135 And whan I had a whyle goon, The Garden. I saugh a Gardin right anoon, Ful long and brood, and everydel Enclos it was, and walled wel, With hye walles enbatailled, 140 Portrayed without, and wel entailled With many riche portraitures; And bothe images and peyntures Gan I biholde bisily. And I wol telle you, redily, 145 Of thilke images the semblaunce, As fer as I have remembraunce. Hate. A-midde saugh I Hate stonde, That for hir wrathe, ire, and onde, Semed to been a moveresse, 150 An angry wight, a chideresse; And ful of gyle, and fel corage, By semblaunt was that ilke image. And she was no-thing wel arrayed, But lyk a wood womman afrayed; 155 Y-frounced foule was hir visage, And grenning for dispitous rage; Hir nose snorted up for tene.	Tot le rivage costoiant. Quant j'oi ung poi avant alé, 130 Si vi ung vergier grant et lé, Tot clos d'ung haut mur bataillié, Portrait defors et entaillié A maintes riches escritures. Les ymages et les paintures Ai moult volentiers remiré: Si vous conteré et diré De ces ymages la semblance, Si cum moi vient à remembrance. Haïne. Ens où milieu je vi Haïne 140 Qui de corrous et d'ataïne Sembloit bien estre moverresse, Et correceuse et tencerresse, Et plaine de grant cuvertage Estoit par semblant cele ymage. Si n'estoit pas bien atornée, Ains sembloit estre forcenée, Rechignie avoit et froncié Le vis, et le nés secorcié.
[100] Ful hidous was she for to sene, Ful foul and rusty was she, this. 160 Hir heed y-writhen was, y-wis, Ful grimly with a greet towayle. Felonye. An image of another entayle, A lift half, was hir faste by; Hir name above hir heed saugh I, 165 And she was called Felonye. Vilanye. Another image, that Vilanye Y-cleped was, saugh I and fond Upon the walle on hir right hond. Vilanye was lyk somdel 170 That other image; and, trusteth wel, She semed a wikked creature. By countenaunce, in portrayture, She semed be ful despitous, And eek ful proud and outrageous. 175 Wel coude he peynte, I undertake, That swiche image coude make. Ful foul and cherlish semed she, And eek vilaynous for to be, And litel coude of norture, 180 To worshipe any creature.	Par grant hideur fu soutilliée, 150 Et si estoit entortillée Hideusement d'une toaille. Felonnie. Une autre ymage d'autel taille A senestre vi delez lui; Son non desus sa teste lui; Apellée estoit Felonnie. Vilennie. Une ymage qui Vilonie Avoit non, revi devers destre, Qui estoit auques d'autel estre Cum ces deus et d'autel féture; 160 Bien sembloit male créature, Et despiteuse et orguilleuse, Et mesdisant et ramponeuse. Moult sot bien paindre et bien portraire Cil qui tiex ymages sot faire: Car bien sembloit chose vilaine, De dolor et de despit plaine; Et fame qui petit séust D'honorer ceus qu'ele déust.
[101] Coveityse. And next was peynted Coveityse, That eggeth folk, in many gyse, To take and yeve right nought ageyn, And grete tresours up to leyn. 185 And that is she that for usure Leneth to many a creature The lasse for the more winning, So coveitous is her brenning. And that is she, for penyes fele, 190 That techeth for to robbe and stele These theves, and these smale harlotes; And that is routhe, for by hir throtes Ful many oon hangeth at the laste. She maketh folk compasse and caste 195 To taken other folkes thing, Through robberie, or miscounting. And that is she that maketh trechoures; And she [that] maketh false pledoures, That with hir termes and hir domes 200 Doon maydens, children, and eek gromes Hir heritage to forgo. Ful croked were hir hondes two; For Coveityse is ever wood	Couvoitise. Après fu painte Coveitise: 170 C'est cele qui les gens atise De prendre et de noient donner, Et les grans avoirs aüner. C'est cele qui fait à usure Prester mains por la grant ardure D'avoir conquerre et assembler. C'est cele qui semont d'embler Les larrons et les ribaudiaus; Si est grans pechiés et grans diaus Qu'en la fin en estuet mains pendre. 180 C'est cele qui fait l'autrui prendre, Rober, tolir et bareter, Et bescochier et mesconter; C'est cele qui les trichéors Fait tous et les faus pledéors, Qui maintes fois par lor faveles Ont as valés et as puceles Lor droites herites toluës. Recorbillies et croçües Avoit les mains icele ymage; 190 Ce fu drois: car toz jors esrage Coveitise de l'autrui prendre.
[102] To grypen other folkes good. 205 Coveityse, for hir winning, Ful leef hath other mennes thing. Avarice. Another image set saugh I Next Coveityse faste by, And she was cleped Avarice. 210 Ful foul in peynting was that vice; Ful sad and caytif was she eek, And al-so grene as any leek. So yvel hewed was hir colour, Hir semed have lived in langour. 215 She was lyk thing for hungre deed, That ladde hir lyf only by breed Kneden with eisel strong and egre; And therto she was lene and megre. And she was clad ful povrely, 220 Al in an old torn courtepy, As she were al with dogges torn; And bothe bihinde and eek biforn Clouted was she beggarly. A mantel heng hir faste by, 225 Upon a perche, weyke and smalle; A burnet cote heng therwithalle, Furred with no menivere,	Coveitise ne set entendre A riens qu'à l'autrui acrochier; Coveitise à l'autrui trop chier. Avarice. Une autre ymage y ot assise Coste à coste de Coveitise, Avarice estoit apelée: Lede estoit et sale et foulée Cele ymage, et megre et chetive, 200 Et aussi vert cum une cive. Tant par estoit descolorée Qu'el sembloit estre enlangorée; Chose sembloit morte de fain, Qui ne vesquit fors que de pain Petri à lessu fort et aigre; Et avec ce qu'ele iere maigre, Iert-ele povrement vestuë, Cote avoit viés et desrumpuë, Comme s'el fust as chiens remese; 210 Povre iert moult la cote et esrese, Et plaine de viés palestiaus. Delez li pendoit ung mantiaus A une perche moult greslete, Et une cote de brunete; Où mantiau n'ot pas penne vaire,
[103] But with a furre rough of here, Of lambe-skinnes hevy and blake; 230 It was ful old, I undertake. For Avarice to clothe hir wel Ne hasteth hir, never a del; For certeynly it were hir loth To weren ofte that ilke cloth; 235 And if it were forwered, she Wolde have ful greet necessitee Of clothing, er she boughte hir newe, Al were it bad of wolle and hewe. This Avarice held in hir hande 240 A purs, that heng [doun] by a bande; And that she hidde and bond so stronge, Men must abyde wonder longe Out of that purs er ther come ought, For that ne cometh not in hir thought; 245 It was not, certein, hir entente That fro that purs a peny wente. Envye. And by that image, nygh y-nough, Was peynt Envye, that never lough, Nor never wel in herte ferde 250 But-if she outher saugh or herde	Mes moult viés et de povre afaire, D'agniaus noirs velus et pesans. Bien avoit la robe vingt ans; Mès Avarice du vestir 220 Se sot moult à tart aatir: Car sachiés que moult li pesast Se cele robe point usast; Car s'el fust usée et mauvese, Avarice éust grant mesese De noeve robe et grant disete, Avant qu'ele éust autre fete. Avarice en sa main tenoit Une borse qu'el reponnoit, Et la nooit si durement, 230 Que demorast moult longuement Ainçois qu'el en péust riens traire, Mès el n'avoit de ce que faire. El n'aloit pas à ce béant Que de la borse ostat néant. Envie. Après refu portrete Envie, Qui ne rist oncques en sa vie, N'oncques de riens ne s'esjoï, S'ele ne vit, ou s'el n'oï
[104] Som greet mischaunce, or greet disese. No-thing may so moch hir plese As mischef and misaventure; Or whan she seeth discomfiture 255 Upon any worthy man falle, Than lyketh hir [ful] wel withalle. She is ful glad in hir corage, If she see any greet linage Be brought to nought in shamful wyse. 260 And if a man in honour ryse, Or by his witte, or by prowesse, Of that hath she gret hevinesse; For, trusteth wel, she goth nigh wood Whan any chaunce happeth good. 265 Envye is of swich crueltee, That feith ne trouthe holdeth she To freend ne felawe, bad or good. Ne she hath kin noon of hir blood, That she nis ful hir enemy; 270 She nolde, I dar seyn hardely, Hir owne fader ferde wel. And sore abyeth she everydel Hir malice, and hir maltalent:	Aucun grant domage retrere. 240 Nule riens ne li puet tant plere Cum mefet et mesaventure; Quant el voit grant desconfiture Sor aucun prodomme chéoir, Ice li plest moult à véoir. Ele est trop lie en son corage Quant el voit aucun grant lignage Dechéoir et aler à honte; Et quant aucuns à honor monte Par son sens ou par sa proéce, 250 C'est la chose qui plus la bléce. Car sachiés que moult la convient Estre irée quant biens avient. Envie est de tel cruauté, Qu'ele ne porte léauté A compaignon, ne à compaigne; N'ele n'a parent, tant li tiengne, A cui el ne soit anemie: Car certes el ne vorroit mie Que biens venist, neis à son pere. 260 Mès bien sachiés qu'ele compere Sa malice trop ledement:
[105] For she is in so greet turment 275 And hath such [wo], whan folk doth good, That nigh she melteth for pure wood; Hir herte kerveth and to-breketh That god the peple wel awreketh. Envye, y-wis, shal never lette 280 Som blame upon the folk to sette. I trowe that if Envye, y-wis, Knewe the beste man that is On this syde or biyond the see, Yit somwhat lakken him wolde she. 285 And if he were so hende and wys, That she ne mighte al abate his prys, Yit wolde she blame his worthinesse, Or by hir wordes make it lesse. I saugh Envye, in that peynting, 290 Hadde a wonderful loking; For she ne loked but awry, Or overthwart, al baggingly. And she hadde [eek] a foul usage; She mighte loke in no visage 295 Of man or womman forth-right pleyn, But shette oon yë for disdeyn;	Car ele est en si grant torment, Et a tel duel quant gens bien font, Par ung petit qu'ele ne font. Ses felons cuers l'art et detrenche, Qui de li Diex et la gent venche. Envie ne fine nule hore D'aucun blasme as gens metre sore; Je cuit que s'ele cognoissoit 270 Tot le plus prodome qui soit Ne deçà mer, ne delà mer, Si le vorroit-ele blasmer; Et s'il iere si bien apris Qu'el ne péust de tot son pris Rien abatre ne deprisier, Si vorroit-ele apetisier Sa proéce au mains, et s'onor Par parole faire menor. Lors vi qu'Envie en la painture 280 Avoit trop lede esgardéure; Ele ne regardast noient Fors de travers en borgnoiant; Ele avoit ung mauvès usage, Qu'ele ne pooit où visage Regarder reins de plain en plaing, Ains clooit ung oel par desdaing,
[106] So for envye brenned she Whan she mighte any man [y]-see, That fair, or worthy were, or wys, 300 Or elles stood in folkes prys. Sorowe. Sorowe was peynted next Envye Upon that walle of masonrye. But wel was seen in hir colour That she hadde lived in langour; 305 Hir semed have the Iaunyce. Nought half so pale was Avaryce, Nor no-thing lyk, [as] of lenesse; For sorowe, thought, and greet distresse, That she hadde suffred day and night 310 Made hir ful yelwe, and no-thing bright, Ful fade, pale, and megre also. Was never wight yit half so wo As that hir semed for to be, Nor so fulfilled of ire as she. 315 I trowe that no wight mighte hir plese, Nor do that thing that mighte hir ese; Nor she ne wolde hir sorowe slake, Nor comfort noon unto hir take;	Qu'ele fondoit d'ire et ardoit, Quant aucuns qu'ele regardoit, Estoit ou preus, ou biaus, ou gens, 290 Ou amés, ou loés de gens. Tristesse. Delez Envie auques près iere Tristece painte en la maisiere; Mès bien paroit à sa color Qu'ele avoit au cuer grant dolor, Et sembloit avoir la jaunice. Si n'i feïst riens Avarice Ne de paleur, ne de mégrece, Car li soucis et la destrece, Et la pesance et les ennuis 300 Qu'el soffroit de jors et de nuis, L'avoient moult fete jaunir, Et megre et pale devenir. Oncques mès nus en tel martire Ne fu, ne n'ot ausinc grant ire Cum il sembloit que ele éust: Je cuit que nus ne li séust Faire riens qui li péust plaire: N'el ne se vosist pas retraire, Ne réconforter à nul fuer 310 Du duel qu'ele avoit à son cuer.
[107] So depe was hir wo bigonnen, 320 And eek hir herte in angre ronnen, A sorowful thing wel semed she. Nor she hadde no-thing slowe be For to forcracchen al hir face, And for to rende in many place 325 Hir clothes, and for to tere hir swire, As she that was fulfilled of ire; And al to-torn lay eek hir here Aboute hir shuldres, here and there, As she that hadde it al to-rent 330 For angre and for maltalent. And eek I telle you certeynly How that she weep ful tenderly. In world nis wight so hard of herte That hadde seen hir sorowes smerte, 335 That nolde have had of hir pitee, So wo-bigoon a thing was she. She al to-dasshte hir-self for wo, And smoot togider her handes two. To sorwe was she ful ententyf, 340 That woful recchelees caityf; Hir roughte litel of pleying, Or of clipping or [of] kissing; For who-so sorweful is in herte	Trop avoit son cuer correcié, Et son duel parfont commencié. Moult sembloit bien qu'el fust dolente, Qu'ele n'avoit mie esté lente D'esgratiner tote sa chiere; N'ele n'avoit pas sa robe chiere, Ains l'ot en mains leus descirée Cum cele qui moult iert irée. Si cheveul tuit destrecié furent, 320 Et espandu par son col jurent, Que les avoit trestous desrous De maltalent et de corrous. Et sachiés bien veritelment Qu'ele ploroit profondément: Nus, tant fust durs, ne la véist, A cui grant pitié n'en préist, Qu'el se desrompoit et batoit, Et ses poins ensemble hurtoit. Moult iert à duel fere ententive 330 La dolereuse, la chetive; Il ne li tenoit d'envoisier, Ne d'acoler, ne de baisier: Car cil qui a le cuer dolent,
[108] Him liste not to pleye ne sterte, 345 Nor for to daunsen, ne to singe, Ne may his herte in temper bringe To make Ioye on even or morowe; For Ioye is contraire unto sorowe. Elde. Elde was peynted after this, 350 That shorter was a foot, ywis, Than she was wont in her yonghede. Unnethe hir-self she mighte fede; So feble and eek so old was she That faded was al hir beautee. 355 Ful salowe was waxen hir colour, Hir heed for-hoor was, whyt as flour. Y-wis, gret qualm ne were it noon, Ne sinne, although hir lyf were gon. Al woxen was hir body unwelde, 360 And drye, and dwyned al for elde. A foul forwelked thing was she That whylom round and softe had be. Hir eres shoken fast withalle, As from her heed they wolde falle. 365 Hir face frounced and forpyned, And bothe hir hondes lorn, fordwyned.	Sachiés de voir, il n'a talent De dancier, ne de karoler, Ne nus ne se porroit moller Qui duel éust, à joie faire, Car duel et joie sont contraire. Vieillesse. Après fu Viellece portraite, 340 Qui estoit bien ung pié retraite De tele cum el soloit estre; A paine se pooit-el pestre, Tant estoit vielle et radotée. Bien estoit si biauté gastée, Et moult ert lede devenuë. Toute sa teste estoit chenuë, Et blanche cum s'el fust florie. Ce ne fut mie grant morie S'ele morust, ne grans pechiés, 350 Car tous ses cors estoit sechiés De viellece et anoiantis: Moult estoit jà ses vis fletris, Qui jadis fut soef et plains; Mès or est tous de fronces plains, Les oreilles avoit mossues, Et trestotes les dents perdues, Si qu'ele n'en avoit neis une. Tant par estoit de grant viellune,
[109] So old she was that she ne wente A foot, but it were by potente. Time. The Tyme, that passeth night and day, 370 And restelees travayleth ay, And steleth from us so prively, That to us seemeth sikerly That it in oon point dwelleth ever, And certes, it ne resteth never, 375 But goth so faste, and passeth ay, That ther nis man that thinke may What tyme that now present is: Asketh at these clerkes this; For [er] men thinke it redily, 380 Three tymes been y-passed by. The tyme, that may not soiourne, But goth, and never may retourne, As water that doun renneth ay, But never drope retourne may; 385 Ther may no-thing as tyme endure, Metal, nor erthely creature; For alle thing it fret and shal: The tyme eek, that chaungeth al, And al doth waxe and fostred be, 390 And alle thing distroyeth he:	Qu'el n'alast mie la montance 360 De quatre toises sans potance. Li tens qui s'en va nuit et jor, Sans repos prendre et sans sejor, Et qui de nous se part et emble Si celéement, qu'il nous semble Qu'il s'arreste adés en ung point, Et il ne s'i arreste point, Ains ne fine de trepasser, Que nus ne puet néis penser Quex tens ce est qui est présens; 370 Sel' demandés as clers lisans, Ainçois que l'en l'éust pensé, Seroit-il jà trois tens passé. Li tens qui ne puet sejourner, Ains vait tous jors sans retorner, Cum l'iaue qui s'avale toute, N'il n'en retorne arriere goute: Li tens vers qui noient ne dure, Ne fer ne chose tant soit dure, Car il gaste tout et menjue; 380 Li tens qui tote chose mue, Qui tout fait croistre et tout norist, Et qui tout use et tout porrist;
[110] The tyme, that eldeth our auncessours And eldeth kinges and emperours, And that us alle shal overcomen Er that deeth us shal have nomen: 395 The tyme, that hath al in welde To elden folk, had maad hir elde So inly, that, to my witing, She mighte helpe hir-self no-thing, But turned ageyn unto childhede; 400 She had no-thing hir-self to lede, Ne wit ne pith in[with] hir holde More than a child of two yeer olde. But natheles, I trowe that she Was fair sumtyme, and fresh to see, 405 Whan she was in hir rightful age: But she was past al that passage And was a doted thing bicomen. A furred cope on had she nomen; Wel had she clad hir-self and warm, 410 For cold mighte elles doon hir harm. These olde folk have alwey colde, Hir kinde is swiche, whan they ben olde. Pope-holy. Another thing was doon ther write, That semede lyk an ipocrite,	Li tens qui enviellist nos peres, Et viellist roys et emperieres, Et qui tous nous enviellira, Ou mort nous desavancera; Li tens qui toute a la baillie Des gens viellir, l'avoit viellie Si durement, qu'au mien cuidier 390 El ne se pooit mès aidier, Ains retornoit jà en enfance, Car certes el n'avoit poissance, Ce cuit-je, ne force, ne sens Ne plus c'un enfés de deus ans. Ne porquant, au mien escient, Ele avoit esté sage et gent, Quant ele iert en son droit aage; Mais ge cuit qu'el n'iere mès sage, Ains iert trestote rassotée. 400 Si ot d'une chape forrée Moult bien, si cum je me recors, Abrié et vestu son corps: Bien fu vestue et chaudement, Car el éust froit autrement. Les vielles gens ont tost froidure; Bien savés que c'est lor nature. Papelardie. Une ymage ot emprès escrite, Qui sembloit bien estre ypocrite;
[111] 415 And it was cleped Pope-holy. That ilke is she that prively Ne spareth never a wikked dede, Whan men of hir taken non hede; And maketh hir outward precious, 420 With pale visage and pitous, And semeth a simple creature; But ther nis no misaventure That she ne thenketh in hir corage. Ful lyk to hir was that image, 425 That maked was lyk hir semblaunce. She was ful simple of countenaunce, And she was clothed and eek shod, As she were, for the love of god, Yolden to religioun, 430 Swich semed hir devocioun. A sauter held she faste in honde, And bisily she gan to fonde To make many a feynt prayere To god, and to his seyntes dere. 435 Ne she was gay, fresh, ne Iolyf, But semed be ful ententyf To gode werkes, and to faire, And therto she had on an haire. Ne certes, she was fat no-thing,	Papelardie ert apelée. 410 C'est cele qui en recelée, Quant nus ne s'en puet prendre garde, De nul mal faire ne se tarde. El fait dehors le marmiteus, Si a le vis simple et piteus, Et semble sainte créature; Mais sous ciel n'a male aventure Qu'ele ne pense en son corage. Moult la ressembloit bien l'ymage Qui faite fu à sa semblance, 420 Qu'el fu de simple contenance; Et si fu chaucie et vestue Tout ainsinc cum fame rendue. En sa main ung sautier tenoit, Et sachiés que moult se penoit De faire à Dieu prieres faintes, Et d'appeler et sains et saintes. El ne fu gaie, ne jolive, Ains fu par semblant ententive Du tout à bonnes ovres faire; 430 Et si avoit vestu la haire. Et sachiés que n'iere pas grasse,
[112] 440 But semed wery for fasting; Of colour pale and deed was she. From hir the gate [shal] werned be Of paradys, that blisful place; For swich folk maketh lene hir face, 445 As Crist seith in his evangyle, To gete hem prys in toun a whyle; And for a litel glorie veine They lesen god and eek his reine. Povert. And alderlast of everichoon, 450 Was peynted Povert al aloon, That not a peny hadde in wolde, Al-though [that] she hir clothes solde, And though she shulde anhonged be; For naked as a worm was she. 455 And if the weder stormy were, For colde she shulde have deyed there. She nadde on but a streit old sak, And many a clout on it ther stak; This was hir cote and hir mantel, 460 No more was there, never a del, To clothe her with; I undertake, Gret leyser hadde she to quake.	De jeuner sembloit estre lasse, S'avoit la color pale et morte. A li et as siens ert la porte Dévéée de Paradis; Car icel gent si font lor vis Amegrir, ce dit l'Evangile, Por avoir loz parmi la ville, Et por un poi de gloire vaine 440 Qui lor toldra Dieu et son raine. Povreté. Portraite fu au darrenier Povreté, qui ung seul denier N'éust pas, s'el se déust pendre, Tant séust bien sa robe vendre; Qu'ele iere nuë comme vers: Se li tens fust ung poi divers, Je cuit qu'ele acorast de froit, Qu'el n'avoit c'ung vié sac estroit Tout plain de mavès palestiaus; 450 Ce iert sa robe et ses mantiaus. El n'avoit plus que afubler, Grant loisir avoit de trembler.
[113] And she was put, that I of talke, Fer fro these other, up in an halke; 465 There lurked and there coured she, For povre thing, wher-so it be, Is shamfast, and despysed ay. Acursed may wel be that day, That povre man conceyved is; 470 For god wot, al to selde, y-wis, Is any povre man wel fed, Or wel arayed or y-cled, Or wel biloved, in swich wyse In honour that he may aryse. 475 Alle these thinges, wel avysed, As I have you er this devysed, With gold and asure over alle Depeynted were upon the walle. Squar was the wal, and high somdel; 480 Enclosed, and y-barred wel, In stede of hegge, was that gardin; Com never shepherde therin. Into that gardyn, wel [y-]wrought, Who-so that me coude have brought, 485 By laddre, or elles by degree, It wolde wel have lyked me.	Des autres fu un poi loignet; Cum chien honteus en ung coignet Se cropoit et s'atapissoit, Car povre chose, où qu'ele soit, Est adès boutée et despite. L'eure soit ore la maudite, Que povres homs fu concéus! 460 Qu'il ne sera jà bien péus, Ne bien vestus, ne bien chauciés, Néis amés, ne essauciés. Ces ymages bien avisé, Qui, si comme j'ai devisé, Furent à or et à asur De toutes pars paintes où mur. Haut fu li mur et tous quarrés, Si en fu bien clos et barrés, En leu de haies, uns vergiers, 470 Où onc n'avoit entré bergiers. Cis vergiers en trop bel leu sist: Qui dedens mener me vousist Ou par échiele ou par degré, Je l'en séusse moult bon gré;
[114] For swich solace, swich Ioye, and play, I trowe that never man ne say, As in that place delitous. 490 The gardin was not daungerous To herberwe briddes many oon. So riche a yerd was never noon Of briddes songe, and braunches grene. Therin were briddes mo, I wene, 495 Than been in alle the rewme of Fraunce. Ful blisful was the accordaunce Of swete and pitous songe they made, For al this world it oughte glade. And I my-self so mery ferde, 500 Whan I hir blisful songes herde, That for an hundred pound nolde I,— If that the passage openly Hadde been unto me free— That I nolde entren for to see 505 Thassemblee, god [it kepe and were!]— Of briddes, whiche therinne were, That songen, through hir mery throtes, Daunces of love, and mery notes. Whan I thus herde foules singe, 510 I fel faste in a weymentinge,	Car tel joie ne tel déduit Ne vit nus hons, si cum ge cuit, Cum il avoit en ce vergier: Car li leus d'oisiaus herbergier N'estoit ne dangereux ne chiches. 480 Onc mès ne fu nus leus si riches D'arbres, ne d'oisillons chantans: Qu'il i avoit d'oisiaus trois tans Qu'en tout le remanant de France. Moult estoit bele l'acordance De lor piteus chant à oïr: Tous li mons s'en dust esjoïr. Je endroit moi m'en esjoï Si durement, quant les oï, Que n'en préisse pas cent livres, 490 Se li passages fust delivres, Que ge n'entrasse ens et véisse L'assemblée (que Diex garisse!) Des oisiaus qui léens estoient, Qui envoisiement chantoient Les dances d'amors et les notes Plesans, cortoises et mignotes. Quant j'oï les oisiaus chanter, Forment me pris à dementer
[115] By which art, or by what engyn I mighte come in that gardyn; But way I couthe finde noon Into that gardin for to goon. 515 Ne nought wiste I if that ther were Eyther hole or place [o]-where, By which I mighte have entree; Ne ther was noon to teche me; For I was al aloon, y-wis, 520 Ful wo and anguissous of this. Til atte laste bithoughte I me, That by no weye ne mighte it be; That ther nas laddre or wey to passe, Or hole, into so fair a place. 525 Tho gan I go a ful gret pas Envyroning even in compas The closing of the square wal, Til that I fond a wiket smal So shet, that I ne mighte in goon, 530 And other entree was ther noon. The Door. Upon this dore I gan to smyte, That was [so] fetys and so lyte; For other wey coude I not seke. Ful long I shoof, and knokked eke,	Par quel art ne par quel engin 500 Je porroie entrer où jardin; Mès ge ne poi onques trouver Leu par où g'i péusse entrer. Et sachiés que ge ne savoie S'il i avoït partuis ne voie, Ne leu par où l'en i entrast, Ne hons nés qui le me monstrast N'iert illec, que g'iere tot seus, Moult destroit et moult angoisseus; Tant qu'au darrenier me sovint 510 C'oncques à nul jor ce n'avint Qu'en si biau vergier n'éust huis, Ou eschiele ou aucun partuis. Lors m'en alai grant aléure Açaignant la compasséure Et la cloison du mur quarré, Tant que ung guichet bien barré Trovai petitet et estroit; Par autre leu l'en n'i entroit. A l'uis commençai à ferir, 520 Autre entrée n'i soi querir. Assez i feri et boutai, Et par maintes fois escoutai
[116] 535 And stood ful long and of[t] herkning If that I herde a wight coming; Til that the dore of thilke entree Ydelnesse. A mayden curteys opened me. Hir heer was as yelowe of hewe 540 As any basin scoured newe. Hir flesh [as] tendre as is a chike, With bente browes, smothe and slike; And by mesure large were The opening of hir yën clere. 545 Hir nose of good proporcioun, Hir yën greye as a faucoun, With swete breeth and wel savoured. Hir face whyt and wel coloured, With litel mouth, and round to see; 550 A clove chin eek hadde she. Hir nekke was of good fasoun In lengthe and gretnesse, by resoun, Withoute bleyne, scabbe, or royne. Fro Ierusalem unto Burgoyne 555 Ther nis a fairer nekke, y-wis, To fele how smothe and softe it is. Hir throte, al-so whyt of hewe As snow on braunche snowed newe.	Se j'orroie venir nulle arme. Le guichet, qui estoit de charme, M'ovrit une noble pucele Qui moult estoit et gente et bele. Cheveus ot blons cum uns bacins, La char plus tendre qu'uns pocins, Front reluisant, sorcis votis. 530 Son entr'oil ne fu pas petis, Ains iert assez grans par mesure; Le nés ot bien fait à droiture, Les yex ot plus vairs c'uns faucons, Por faire envie à ces bricons. Douce alene ot et savorée, La face blanche et colorée, La bouche petite et grocete, S'ot où menton une fossete. Le col fu de bonne moison, 540 Gros assez et lons par raison, Si n'i ot bube ne malen. N'avoit jusqu'en Jherusalen Fame qui plus biau col portast, Polis iert et soef au tast. La gorgete ot autresi blanche Cum est la noif desus la branche
[117] Of body ful wel wrought was she 560 Men neded not, in no cuntree, A fairer body for to seke. And of fyn orfrays had she eke A chapelet: so semly oon Ne wered never mayde upon;.... 565 And faire above that chapelet A rose gerland had she set. She hadde [in honde] a gay mirour, And with a riche gold tressour Hir heed was tressed queyntely; 570 Hir sleves sewed fetisly. And for to kepe hir hondes faire Of gloves whyte she hadde a paire. And she hadde on a cote of grene Of cloth of Gaunt; withouten wene, 575 Wel semed by hir apparayle She was not wont to greet travayle. For whan she kempt was fetisly, And wel arayed and richely, Thanne had she doon al hir Iournee; 580 For mery and wel bigoon was she.	Quant il a freschement negié. Le cors ot bien fait et dougié, L'en ne séust en nule terre 550 Nul plus bel cors de fame querre. D'orfrois ot un chapel mignot; Onques nule pucele n'ot Plus cointe ne plus desguisié, Ne l'aroie adroit devisié En trestous les jors de ma vie. Robe avoit moult bien entaillie; Ung chapel de roses tout frais Ot dessus le chapel d'orfrais: En sa main tint ung miroër, 560 Si ot d'ung riche treçoër Son chief trecié moult richement, Bien et bel et estroitement Ot ambdeus cousues ses manches; Et por garder que ses mains blanches Ne halaissent, ot uns blans gans. Cote ot d'ung riche vert de gans, Cousue à lignel tout entour. Il paroit bien à son atour Qu'ele iere poi embesoignie. 570 Quant ele s'iere bien pignie, Et bien parée et atornée, Ele avoit faite sa jornée.
[118] She ladde a lusty lyf in May, She hadde no thought, by night ne day, Of no-thing, but it were oonly To graythe hit wel and uncouthly. 585 Whan that this dore hadde opened me This mayden, semely for to see, I thanked hir as I best mighte, And axede hir how that she highte, And what she was, I axede eke. 590 And she to me was nought unmeke, Ne of hir answer daungerous, But faire answerde, and seide thus:— Lo, sir, my name is Ydelnesse; So clepe men me, more and lesse. 595 Ful mighty and ful riche am I, And that of oon thing, namely; For I entende to no-thing But to my Ioye, and my pleying, And for to kembe and tresse me. 600 Aqueynted am I, and privee With Mirthe, lord of this gardyn, That fro the lande of Alexandryn Made the trees be hider fet, That in this gardin been y-set.	Moult avoit bon tems et bon May, Qu'el n'avoït soussi ne esmay De nule riens, fors solement De soi atorner noblement. Quant ainsinc m'ot l'uis deffermé La pucele au cors acesmé, Je l'en merciai doucement, 580 Et si li demandai comment Ele avoit non, et qui ele iere. Ele ne fu pas envers moi fiere, Ne de respondre desdaigneuse: Je me fais apeler Oiseuse,' Dist-ele, 'à tous mes congnoissans; Si sui riche fame et poissans. S'ai d'une chose moult bon tens, Car à nule riens je ne pens Qu'à moi joer et solacier, 590 Et mon chief pignier et trecier: Quant sui pignée et atornée, Adonc est fete ma jornée. Privée sui moult et acointe De Déduit le mignot, le cointe; C'est cil cui est cest biax jardins, Qui de la terre as Sarradins Fist çà ces arbres aporter, Qu'il fist par ce vergier planter.
[119] 605 And whan the trees were woxen on highte, This wal, that slant here in thy sighte, Dide Mirthe enclosen al aboute; And these images, al withoute, He dide hem bothe entaile and peynte, 610 That neither ben Iolyf ne queynte, But they ben ful of sorowe and wo, As thou hast seen a whyle ago. 'And ofte tyme, him to solace, Sir Mirthe cometh into this place, 615 And eek with him cometh his meynee, That liven in lust and Iolitee. And now is Mirthe therin, to here The briddes, how they singen clere, The mavis and the nightingale, 620 And other Ioly briddes smale. And thus he walketh to solace Him and his folk; for swetter place To pleyen in he may not finde, Although he soughte oon in-til Inde. 625 The alther-fairest folk to see That in this world may founde be Hath Mirthe with him in his route, That folowen him alwayes aboute.'	Quant li arbres furent créu, 600 Le mur que vous avez véu, Fist lors Deduit tout entor faire, Et si fist au dehors portraire Les ymages qui i sunt paintes, Que ne sunt mignotes ne cointes; Ains sunt dolereuses et tristes, Si cum vous orendroit véistes. Maintes fois por esbanoier Se vient en cest leu umbroier Déduit et les gens qui le sivent, 610 Qui en joie et en solas vivent. Encores est léens, sans doute, Déduit orendroit qui escoute A chanter gais rossignolés, Mauvis et autres oiselés. Il s'esbat iluec et solace O ses gens, car plus bele place Ne plus biau leu por soi joer Ne porroit-il mie trover; Les plus beles gens, ce sachiés, 620 Que vous jamès nul leu truissiés, Si sunt li compaignon Déduit Qu'il maine avec li et conduit.'
[120] When Ydelnesse had told al this, 630 And I hadde herkned wel, y-wis, Than seide I to dame Ydelnesse, Now al-so wisly god me blesse, Sith Mirthe, that is so fair and free, Is in this yerde with his meynee, 635 Fro thilke assemblee, if I may, Shal no man werne me to-day, That I this night ne mote it see. For, wel wene I, ther with him be A fair and Ioly companye 640 Fulfilled of alle curtesye.' And forth, withoute wordes mo, In at the wiket wente I tho, That Ydelnesse hadde opened me, Into that gardin fair to see. 645 And whan I was [ther]in, y-wis, The Garden. Myn herte was ful glad of this. For wel wende I ful sikerly Have been in paradys erth[e]ly; So fair it was, that, trusteth wel, 650 It semed a place espirituel. For certes, as at my devys, Ther is no place in paradys So good in for to dwelle or be As in that Gardin, thoughte me;	Quant Oiseuse m'ot ce conté, Et j'oi moult bien tout escouté, Je li dis lores: 'Dame Oiseuse, Jà de ce ne soyés douteuse, Puis que Déduit li biaus, li gens Est orendroit avec ses gens En cest vergier, ceste assemblée 630 Ne m'iert pas, se je puis, emblée, Que ne la voie encore ennuit; Véoir la m'estuet, car ge cuit Que bele est cele compaignie, Et cortoise et bien enseignie.' Lors m'en entrai, ne dis puis mot, Par l'uis que Oiseuse overt m'ot, Où vergier; et quant je fui ens Je fui liés et baus et joiens. Et sachiés que je cuidai estre 640 Por voir en Paradis terrestre, Tant estoit li leu delitables, Qu'il sembloit estre esperitables: Car si cum il m'iert lors avis, Ne féist en nul Paradis Si bon estre, cum il faisoit Où vergier qui tant me plaisoit.
[121] 655 For there was many a brid singing, Throughout the yerde al thringing. In many places were nightingales, Alpes, finches, and wodewales, That in her swete song delyten 660 In thilke place as they habyten. Ther mighte men see many flokkes Of turtles and [of] laverokkes. Chalaundres fele saw I there, That wery, nigh forsongen were. 665 And thrustles, terins, and mavys, That songen for to winne hem prys, And eek to sormounte in hir song These other briddes hem among. By note made fair servyse 670 These briddes, that I you devyse; They songe hir song as faire and wel As angels doon espirituel. And, trusteth wel, whan I hem herde, Full lustily and wel I ferde; 675 For never yit swich melodye Was herd of man that mighte dye.	D'oisiaus chantans avoit assés Par tout le vergier amassés; En ung leu avoit rossigniaus, 650 En l'autre gais et estorniaus; Si r'avoit aillors grans escoles De roietiaus et torteroles, De chardonnereaus, d'arondeles, D'aloes et de lardereles; Calendres i ot amassées En ung autre leu, qui lassées De chanter furent à envis: Melles y avoit et mauvis Qui baoient à sormonter 660 Ces autres oisiaus par chanter. Il r'avoit aillors papegaus, Et mains oisiaus qui par ces gaus Et par ces bois où il habitent, En lor biau chanter se délitent. Trop parfesoient bel servise Cil oisel que je vous devise; Il chantoient ung chant itel Cum s'il fussent esperitel. De voir sachiés, quant les oï, 670 Moult durement m'en esjoï: Que mès si douce mélodie Ne fu d'omme mortel oïe.
[122] Swich swete song was hem among, That me thoughte it no briddes song, But it was wonder lyk to be 680 Song of mermaydens of the see; That, for her singing is so clere, Though we mermaydens clepe hem here In English, as in our usaunce, Men clepen hem sereyns in Fraunce. 685 Ententif weren for to singe These briddes, that nought unkunninge Were of hir craft, and apprentys, But of [hir] song sotyl and wys. And certes, whan I herde hir song, 690 And saw the grene place among, In herte I wex so wonder gay, That I was never erst, er that day, So Iolyf, nor so wel bigo, Ne mery in herte, as I was tho. 695 And than wiste I, and saw ful wel, That Ydelnesse me served wel, That me putte in swich Iolitee. Hir freend wel oughte I for to be, Sith she the dore of that gardyn 700 Hadde opened, and me leten in.	Tant estoit cil chans dous et biaus, Qu'il ne sombloit pas chans d'oisiaus, Ains le péust l'en aesmer A chant de seraines de mer, Qui par lor vois, qu'eles ont saines Et series, ont non seraines. A chanter furent ententis 680 Li oisillon qui aprenti Ne furent pas ne non sachant; Et sachiés quant j'oï lor chant, Et je vi le leu verdaier, Je me pris moult à esgaier; Que n'avoie encor esté onques Si jolif cum je fui adonques; Por la grant délitableté Fui plains de grant jolieté. Et lores soi-je bien et vi 690 Que Oiseuse m'ot bien servi, Qui m'avoit en tel déduit mis: Bien déusse estre ses amis, Quant ele m'avoit deffermé Le guichet du vergier ramé.
[123] From hennesforth how that I wroughte, I shal you tellen, as me thoughte. First, whereof Mirthe served there, And eek what folk ther with him were, 705 Withoute fable I wol descryve. And of that gardin eek as blyve I wol you tellen after this. The faire fasoun al, y-wis, That wel [y-]wrought was for the nones, 710 I may not telle you al at ones: But as I may and can, I shal By ordre tellen you it al. Ful fair servyse and eek ful swete These briddes maden as they sete. 715 Layes of love, ful wel sowning They songen in hir Iargoning; Summe highe and summe eek lowe songe Upon the braunches grene y-spronge. The sweetnesse of hir melodye 720 Made al myn herte in reverdye. And whan that I hadde herd, I trowe, These briddes singing on a rowe, Than mighte I not withholde me That I ne wente in for to see	Dès ore si cum je sauré, Vous conterai comment j'ovré. Primes de quoi Déduit servoit, Et quel compaignie il avoit Sans longue fable vous veil dire, 700 Et du vergier tretout à tire La façon vous redirai puis. Tout ensemble dire ne puis, Mès tout vous conteré par ordre, Que l'en n'i sache que remordre. Grant servise et dous et plaisant Aloient cil oisel faisant; Lais d'amors et sonnés cortois Chantoit chascun en son patois, Li uns en haut, li autre en bas; 710 De lor chant n'estoit mie gas. La douçor et la mélodie Me mist où cuer grant reverdie; Mès quant j'oi escouté ung poi Les oisiaus, tenir ne me poi Que dant Déduit véoir n'alasse; Car à savoir moult desirasse
[124] 725 Sir Mirthe; for my desiring Was him to seen, over alle thing, His countenaunce and his manere: That sighte was to me ful dere. Tho wente I forth on my right hond 730 Doun by a litel path I fond Of mentes ful, and fenel grene; And faste by, withoute wene, Sir Mirthe. Sir Mirthe I fond; and right anoon Unto sir Mirthe gan I goon, 735 Ther-as he was, him to solace. And with him, in that lusty place, So fair folk and so fresh hadde he, That whan I saw, I wondred me Fro whennes swich folk mighte come, 740 So faire they weren, alle and some; For they were lyk, as to my sighte, To angels, that ben fethered brighte. This folk, of which I telle you so, Upon a carole wenten tho. 745 A lady caroled hem, that highte Gladnesse. Gladnes, [the] blisful and the lighte; Wel coude she singe and lustily, Non half so wel and semely, And make in song swich refreininge, 750 It sat hir wonder wel to singe.	Son contenement et son estre. Lors m'en alai tout droit à destre, Par une petitete sente 720 Plaine de fenoil et de mente; Mès auques près trové Déduit, Car maintenant en ung réduit M'en entré où Déduit estoit. Déduit ilueques s'esbatoit; S'avoit si bele gent o soi, Que quant je les vi, je ne soi Dont si tres beles gens pooient Estre venu; car il sembloient Tout por voir anges empennés, 730 Si beles gens ne vit homs nés. Ceste gent dont je vous parole, S'estoient pris à la carole, Et une dame lor chantoit, Qui Léesce apelée estoit: Bien sot chanter et plesamment, Ne nule plus avenaument, Ne plus bel ses refrains ne fist, A chanter merveilles li sist;
[125] Hir vois ful cleer was and ful swete. She was nought rude ne unmete, But couthe y-now of swich doing As longeth unto caroling: 755 For she was wont in every place To singen first, folk to solace; For singing most she gaf hir to; No craft had she so leef to do. Tho mightest thou caroles seen, 760 And folk [ther] daunce and mery been, And make many a fair tourning Upon the grene gras springing. Ther mightest thou see these floutours, Minstrales, and eek Iogelours, 765 That wel to singe dide hir peyne. Somme songe songes of Loreyne; For in Loreyne hir notes be Ful swetter than in this contree. Ther was many a timbestere, 770 And saylours, that I dar wel swere Couthe hir craft ful parfitly. The timbres up ful sotilly They caste, and henten [hem] ful ofte Upon a finger faire and softe,	Qu'ele avoit la vois clere et saine; 740 Et si n'estoit mie vilaine; Ains se savoit bien desbrisier, Ferir du pié et renvoisier. Ele estoit adès coustumiere De chanter en tous leus premiere: Car chanter estoit li mestiers Qu'ele faisoit plus volentiers. Lors véissiés carole aler, Et gens mignotement baler, Et faire mainte bele tresche, 750 Et maint biau tor sor l'erbe fresche. Là véissiés fléutéors, Menesterez et jougléors; Si chantent li uns rotruenges, Li autres notes Loherenges, Por ce qu'en set en Loheregne Plus cointes notes qu'en nul regne. Assez i ot tableterresses Ilec entor, et tymberresses Qui moult savoient bien joer, 760 Et ne finoient de ruer Le tymbre en haut, si recuilloient Sor ung doi, c'onques n'i failloient.
[126] 775 That they [ne] fayled never-mo. Ful fetis damiselles two, Right yonge, and fulle of semlihede, In kirtles, and non other wede, And faire tressed every tresse, 780 Hadde Mirthe doon, for his noblesse, Amidde the carole for to daunce; But her-of lyth no remembraunce, How that they daunced queyntely. That oon wolde come al prively 785 Agayn that other: and whan they were Togidre almost, they threwe y-fere Hir mouthes so, that through hir play It semed as they kiste alway; To dauncen wel coude they the gyse; 790 What shulde I more to you devyse? Ne bede I never thennes go, Whyles that I saw hem daunce so. Upon the carole wonder faste, I gan biholde; til atte laste 795 A lady gan me for to espye, Curtesye. And she was cleped Curtesye, The worshipful, the debonaire; I pray god ever falle hir faire!	Deus damoiseles moult mignotes, Qui estoient en pures cotes, Et trecies à une tresce, Faisoient Déduit par noblesce Enmi la karole baler; Mès de ce ne fait à parler Comme el baloient cointement. 770 L'une venoit tout belement Contre l'autre; et quant el estoient Près à près, si s'entregetoient Les bouches, qu'il vous fust avis Que s'entrebaisassent où vis: Bien se savoient desbrisier. Ne vous en sai que devisier; Mès à nul jor ne me quéisse Remuer, tant que ge véisse Ceste gent ainsine efforcier 780 De caroler et de dancier. La karole tout en estant Regardai iluec jusqu'à tant C'une dame bien enseignie Me tresvit: ce fu Cortoisie La vaillant et la debonnaire, Que Diex deffende de contraire.
[127] Ful curteisly she called me, 800 'What do ye there, beau sire?' quod she, Come [neer], and if it lyke yow To dauncen, daunceth with us now.' And I, withoute tarying, Wente into the caroling. 805 I was abasshed never a del, But it me lykede right wel, That Curtesye me cleped so, And bad me on the daunce go. For if I hadde durst, certeyn 810 I wolde have caroled right fayn, As man that was to daunce blythe. Than gan I loken ofte sythe The shap, the bodies, and the cheres, The countenaunce and the maneres 815 Of alle the folk that daunced there, And I shal telle what they were. Mirthe. Ful fair was Mirthe, ful long and high; A fairer man I never sigh. As round as appel was his face, 820 Ful rody and whyt in every place. Fetys he was and wel beseye, With metely mouth and yën greye;	Cortoisie lors m'apela: Biaus amis, que faites-vous là?' Fait Cortoisie, 'ça venez, 790 Et avecque nous vous prenez A la karole, s'il vous plest.' Sans demorance et sans arrest A la karole me sui pris, Si n'en fui pas trop entrepris, Et sachiés que moult m'agréa Quant Cortoisie m'en pria, Et me dist que je karolasse; Car de karoler, se j'osasse, Estoie envieus et sorpris. 800 A regarder lores me pris Les cors, les façons et les chieres, Les semblances et les manieres Des gens qui ilec karoloient: Si vous dirai quex il estoient. Déduit fu biaus et lons et drois, Jamés en terre ne venrois Où vous truissiés nul plus bel homme: La face avoit cum une pomme, Vermoille et blanche tout entour, 810 Cointes fu et de bel atour.
[128] His nose by mesure wrought ful right; Crisp was his heer, and eek ful bright. 825 His shuldres of a large brede, And smalish in the girdilstede. He semed lyk a portreiture, So noble he was of his stature, So fair, so Ioly, and so fetys, 830 With limes wrought at poynt devys, Deliver, smert, and of gret might; Ne sawe thou never man so light. Of berde unnethe hadde he no-thing, For it was in the firste spring. 835 Ful yong he was, and mery of thought, And in samyt, with briddes wrought, And with gold beten fetisly, His body was clad ful richely. Wrought was his robe in straunge gyse, 840 And al to-slitered for queyntyse In many a place, lowe and hye. And shod he was with greet maistrye, With shoon decoped, and with laas. By druerye, and by solas, 845 His leef a rosen chapelet Had maad, and on his heed it set.	Les yex ot vairs, la bouche gente, Et le nez fait par grant entente; Cheveus ot blons, recercelés, Par espaules fu auques lés, Et gresles parmi la ceinture: Il resembloit une painture, Tant ere biaus et acesmés, Et de tous membres bien formés. Remuans fu, et preus, et vistes, 820 Plus legier homme ne véistes; Si n'avoit barbe, ne grenon, Se petiz peus folages non, Car il ert jones damoisiaus. D'un samit portret à oysiaus, Qui ere tout à or batus, Fu ses cors richement vestus. Moult iert sa robe desguisée, Et fu moult riche et encisée, Et décopée par cointise; 830 Chauciés refu par grant mestrise D'uns solers décopés à las; Par druerie et par solas Li ot s'amie fet chapel De roses qui moult li sist bel.
[129] And wite ye who was his leef? Gladnesse. Dame Gladnes ther was him so leef, That singeth so wel with glad corage, 850 That from she was twelve yeer of age, She of hir love graunt him made. Sir Mirthe hir by the finger hadde [In] daunsing, and she him also; Gret love was atwixe hem two. 855 Bothe were they faire and brighte of hewe; She semede lyk a rose newe Of colour, and hir flesh so tendre, That with a brere smale and slendre Men mighte it cleve, I dar wel sayn. 860 Hir forheed, frounceles al playn. Bente were hir browes two, Hir yën greye, and gladde also, That laughede ay in hir semblaunt, First or the mouth, by covenaunt. 865 I not what of hir nose descryve; So fair hath no womman alyve.... Hir heer was yelowe, and cleer shyning, I wot no lady so lyking.	Savés-vous qui estoit s'amie? Léesce qui nel' haoit mie, L'envoisie, la bien chantans, Qui dès lors qu'el n'ot que sept ans De s'amor li donna l'otroi; 840 Déduit la tint parmi le doi A la karole, et ele lui, Bien s'entr'amoient ambedui: Car il iert biaus, et ele bele, Bien resembloit rose novele De sa color. S'ot la char tendre, Qu'en la li péust toute fendre A une petitete ronce. Le front ot blanc, poli, sans fronce, Les sorcis bruns et enarchiés, 850 Les yex gros et si envoisiés, Qu'il rioient tousjors avant Que la bouchete par convant. Je ne vous sai du nés que dire, L'en nel' féist pas miex de cire. Ele ot la bouche petitete, Et por baisier son ami, preste; Le chief ot blons et reluisant. Que vous iroie-je disant? Bele fu et bien atornée; 860 D'ung fil d'or ere galonnée, S'ot ung chapel d'orfrois tout nuef; Je qu'en oi véu vint et nuef,
[130] Of orfrays fresh was hir gerland; 870 I, whiche seen have a thousand, Saugh never, y-wis, no gerlond yit, So wel [y]-wrought of silk as it. And in an over-gilt samyt Clad she was, by gret delyt, 875 Of which hir leef a robe werde, The myrier she in herte ferde. Cupide. And next hir wente, on hir other syde, The god of Love, that can devyde Love, as him lyketh it [to] be. 880 But he can cherles daunten, he, And maken folkes pryde fallen. And he can wel these lordes thrallen, And ladies putte at lowe degree, Whan he may hem to proude see. 885 This God of Love of his fasoun Was lyk no knave, ne quistroun; His beautee gretly was to pryse. But of his robe to devyse I drede encombred for to be. 890 For nought y-clad in silk was he, But al in floures and flourettes, Y-painted al with amorettes;	A nul jor mès véu n'avoie Chapel si bien ouvré de soie. D'un samit qui ert tous dorés Fu ses cors richement parés, De quoi son ami avoit robe, Si en estoit assés plus gobe. A li se tint de l'autre part 870 Li Diex d'Amors, cil qui départ Amoretes à sa devise. C'est cil qui les amans justise, Et qui abat l'orguel des gens, Et si fait des seignors sergens, Et des dames refait bajesses, Quant il les trove trop engresses. Li Diex d'Amors, de la façon, Ne resembloit mie garçon: De beaulté fist moult à prisier, 880 Mes de sa robe devisier Criens durement qu'encombré soie. Il n'avoit pas robe de soie, Ains avoit robe de floretes, Fete par fines amoretes
[131] And with losenges and scochouns, With briddes, libardes, and lyouns, 895 And other beestes wrought ful wel. His garnement was everydel Y-portreyd and y-wrought with floures, By dyvers medling of coloures. Floures ther were of many gyse 900 Y-set by compas in assyse; Ther lakked no flour, to my dome, Ne nought so muche as flour of brome, Ne violete, ne eck pervenke, Ne flour non, that man can on thenke, 905 And many a rose-leef ful long Was entermedled ther-among: And also on his heed was set Of roses rede a chapelet. But nightingales, a ful gret route, 910 That flyen over his heed aboute, The leves felden as they flyen; And he was al with briddes wryen, With popiniay, with nightingale, With chalaundre, and with wodewale, 915 With finch, with lark, and with archaungel. He semede as he were an aungel	A losenges, à escuciaus, A oiselés, à lionciaus, Et à bestes et à liépars; Fu la robe de toutes pars Portraite, et ovrée de flors 890 Par diverseté de colors. Flors i avoit de maintes guises Qui furent par grant sens assises; Nulle flor en esté ne nest Qui n'i soit, neis flor de genest, Ne violete, ne parvanche, Ne fleur inde, jaune ne blanche; Si ot par leus entremeslées Foilles de roses grans et lées. Il ot où chief ung chapelet 900 De roses; mès rossignolet Qui entor son chief voletoient, Les foilles jus en abatoient: Car il iert tout covers d'oisiaus, De papegaus, de rossignaus, De calandres et de mesanges; Il sembloit que ce fust uns anges
[132] That doun were comen fro hevene clere. Love hadde with him a bachelere, That he made alweyes with him be; 920 Swete-Loking cleped was he. Swete-Loking. This bachelere stood biholding The daunce, and in his honde holding Turke bowes two hadde he. That oon of hem was of a tree 925 That bereth a fruyt of savour wikke; Ful croked was that foule stikke, And knotty here and there also, And blak as bery, or any slo. That other bowe was of a plante 930 Withoute wem, I dar warante, Ful even, and by proporcioun Tretys and long, of good fasoun. And it was peynted wel and thwiten, And over-al diapred and writen 935 With ladies and with bacheleres, Ful lightsom and [ful] glad of cheres. These bowes two held Swete-Loking, That semed lyk no gadeling. And ten brode arowes held he there, 940 Of which five in his right hond were.	Qui fust tantost venus du ciau. Amors avoit ung jovenciau Qu'il faisoit estre iluec delés; 910 Douz-Regard estoit apelés. Ici bachelers regardoit Les caroles, et si gardoit Au Diex d'Amors deux ars turquois. Li uns des ars si fu d'un bois Dont li fruit iert mal savorés; Tous plains de nouz et bocerés Fu li ars dessous et dessore, Et si estoit plus noirs que mores. Li autres ars fu d'un plançon 920 Longuet et de gente façon; Si fu bien fait et bien dolés, Et si fu moult bien pipelés. Dames i ot de tous sens pointes, Et valés envoisiés et cointes. Ices deux ars tint Dous-Regars Qui ne sembloit mie estre gars, Avec dix des floiches son mestre. Il en tint cinq en sa main destre;
[133] But they were shaven wel and dight, Nokked and fethered a-right; And al they were with gold bigoon, And stronge poynted everichoon, 945 And sharpe for to kerven weel. But iren was ther noon ne steel; For al was gold, men mighte it see, Out-take the fetheres and the tree. The swiftest of these arowes fyve 950 Out of a bowe for to dryve, And best [y]-fethered for to flee, Beautee. And fairest eek, was cleped Beautee. That other arowe, that hurteth lesse, Simplesse. Was cleped, as I trowe, Simplesse. 955 The thridde cleped was Fraunchyse, Fraunchyse. That fethered was, in noble wyse, With valour and with curtesye. Companye. The fourthe was cleped Companye That hevy for to sheten is; 960 But who-so sheteth right, y-wis, May therwith doon gret harm and wo. The fifte of these, and laste also,	Mès moult orent ices cinq floiches 930 Les penons bien fais, et les coiches: Si furent toutes à or pointes, Fors et tranchans orent les pointes, Et aguës por bien percier, Et si n'i ot fer ne acier; Onc n'i ot riens qui d'or ne fust, Fors que les penons et le fust: Car el furent encarrelées De sajetes d'or barbelées. La meillore et la plus isnele 940 De ces floiches, et la plus bele, Et cele où li meillor penon Furent entés, Biautes ot non. Une d'eles qui le mains blece, Ot non, ce m'est avis, Simplece. Une autre en i ot apelée Franchise; cele iert empenée De Valor et de Cortoisie. La quarte avoit non Compaignie: En cele ot moult pesant sajete. 950 Ele n'iert pas d'aler loing preste; Mès qui de près en vosist traire, Il en péust assez mal faire.
[134] Fair- Fair-Semblaunt men that arowe calle, Semblaunt. The leeste grevous of hem alle; 965 Yit can it make a ful gret wounde, But he may hope his sores sounde, That hurt is with that arowe, y-wis; His wo the bet bistowed is. For he may soner have gladnesse, 970 His langour oughte be the lesse. Fyve arowes were of other gyse, That been ful foule to devyse; For shaft and ende, sooth to telle, Were al-so blak as feend in helle. Pryde. 975 The first of hem is called Pryde; That other arowe next him bisyde, Vilanye. It was [y]-cleped Vilanye; That arowe was as with felonye Envenimed, and with spitous blame. Shame. 980 The thridde of hem was cleped Shame. Wanhope. The fourthe, Wanhope cleped is, Newe- The fifte, the Newe-Thought, y-wis. Thought. These arowes that I speke of here, Were alle fyve of oon manere, 985 And alle were they resemblable. To hem was wel sitting and able	La quinte avoit non Biau-Semblant, Ce fut toute la mains grévant. Ne porquant el fait moult grant plaie; Mès cis atent bonne menaie, Qui de cele floiche est plaiés, Ses maus en est mielx emplaiés; Car il puet tost santé atendre, 960 S'en doit estre sa dolor mendre. Cinq floiches i ot d'autre guise, Qui furent lédes à devise: Li fust estoient et li fer Plus noirs que déables d'enfer. La premiere avoit non Orguex, L'autre qui ne valoit pas miex, Fu apelée Vilenie; Icele fu de felonie Toute tainte et envenimée. 970 La tierce fu Honte clamée, Et la quarte Desesperance: Novel-Penser fu sans doutance Apelée la darreniere. Ces cinq floiches d'une maniere Furent, et moult bien resemblables; Moult par lor estoit convenables
[135] The foule croked bowe hidous, That knotty was, and al roynous. That bowe semede wel to shete 990 These arowes fyve, that been unmete, Contrarie to that other fyve. But though I telle not as blyve Of hir power, ne of hir might, Her-after shal I tellen right 995 The sothe, and eek signifiaunce, As fer as I have remembraunce: Al shall be seid, I undertake, Er of this boke an ende I make. Now come I to my tale ageyn. 1000 But alderfirst, I wol you seyn The fasoun and the countenaunces Of al the folk that on the daunce is. The God of Love, Iolyf and light, Ladde on his honde a lady bright, 1005 Of high prys, and of greet degree. Beautee. This lady called was Beautee, [As was] an arowe, of which I tolde. Ful wel [y]-thewed was she holde; Ne she was derk ne broun, but bright, 1010 And cleer as [is] the mone-light,	Li uns des arcs qui fu hideus, Et plains de neus, et eschardeus; Il devoit bien tiex floiches traire, 980 Car el erent force et contraire As autres cinq floiches sans doute. Mès ne diré pas ore toute Lor forces, ne lor poestés. Bien vous sera la verités Contée, et la sénefiance Nel'metré mie en obliance; Ains vous dirai que tout ce monte, Ainçois que je fine mon conte. Or revendrai à ma parole: 990 Des nobles gens de la karole M'estuet dire les contenances, Et les façons et les semblances. Li Diex d'Amors se fu bien pris A une dame de haut pris, Et delez lui iert ajoustés: Icele dame ot non Biautés, Ainsinc cum une des cinq fleches. En li ot maintes bonnes teches: El ne fu oscure, ne brune, 1000 Ains fu clere comme la lune,
[136] Ageyn whom alle the sterres semen But smale candels, as we demen. Hir flesh was tendre as dewe of flour, Hir chere was simple as byrde in bour; 1015 As whyt as lilie or rose in rys, Hir face gentil and tretys. Fetys she was, and smal to see; No windred browes hadde she, Ne popped hir, for it neded nought 1020 To windre hir, or to peynte hir ought. Hir tresses yelowe, and longe straughten, Unto hir heles doun they raughten: Hir nose, hir mouth, and eye and cheke Wel wrought, and al the remenaunt eke. 1025 A ful gret savour and a swote Me thinketh in myn herte rote, As helpe me god, whan I remembre Of the fasoun of every membre! In world is noon so fair a wight; 1030 For yong she was, and hewed bright, [Wys], plesaunt, and fetys withalle, Gente, and in hir middel smalle. Richesse. Bisyde Beaute yede Richesse, An high lady of greet noblesse,	Envers qui les autres estoiles Resemblent petites chandoiles. Tendre ot la char comme rousée, Simple fu cum une espousée, Et blanche comme flor de lis; Si ot le vis cler et alis, Et fu greslete et alignie; Ne fu fardée ne guignie: Car el n'avoit mie mestier 1010 De soi tifer ne d'afetier. Les cheveus ot blons et si lons Qu'il li batoient as talons; Nez ot bien fait, et yelx et bouche. Moult grant douçor au cuer me touche, Si m'aïst Diex, quant il me membre De la façon de chascun membre Qu'il n'ot si bele fame où monde. Briément el fu jonete et blonde, Sade, plaisant, aperte et cointe, 1020 Grassete et grele, gente et jointe. Près de Biauté se tint Richece, Une dame de grant hautece,
[137] 1035 And greet of prys in every place. But who-so durste to hir trespace, Or til hir folk, in worde or dede, He were ful hardy, out of drede; For bothe she helpe and hindre may: 1040 And that is nought of yisterday That riche folk have ful gret might To helpe, and eek to greve a wight. The beste and grettest of valour Diden Richesse ful gret honour, 1045 And besy weren hir to serve; For that they wolde hir love deserve, They cleped hir 'Lady,' grete and smalle; This wyde world hir dredeth alle; This world is al in hir daungere. 1050 Hir court hath many a losengere, And many a traytour envious, That been ful besy and curious For to dispreisen, and to blame That best deserven love and name. 1055 Bifore the folk, hem to bigylen, These losengeres hem preyse, and smylen, And thus the world with word anoynten; But afterward they [prikke] and poynten	De grant pris et de grant affaire. Qui à li ne as siens meffaire Osast riens par fais, ou par dis, Il fust moult fiers et moult hardis; Qu'ele puet moult nuire et aidier. Ce n'est mie ne d'ui ne d'ier Que riches gens out grant poissance 1030 De faire ou aïde, ou grévance. Tuit li greignor et li menor Portoient à Richece honor: Tuit baoient à li servir, Por l'amor de li deservir; Chascuns sa dame la clamoit, Car tous li mondes la cremoit; Tous li mons iert en son dangier. En sa cort ot maint losengier, Maint traïtor, maint envieus: 1040 Ce sunt cil qui sunt curieus De desprisier et de blasmer Tous ceus qui font miex à amer. Par devant, por eus losengier, Loent les gens li losengier; Tout le monde par parole oignent, Mès lor losenges les gens poignent
[138] The folk right to the bare boon, 1060 Bihinde her bak whan they ben goon, And foule abate the folkes prys. Ful many a worthy man and wys, An hundred, have [they] don to dye, These losengeres, through flaterye; 1065 And maketh folk ful straunge be, Ther-as hem oughte be prive. Wel yvel mote they thryve and thee, And yvel aryved mote they be, These losengeres, ful of envye! 1070 No good man loveth hir companye. Richesse a robe of purpre on hadde, Ne trowe not that I lye or madde; For in this world is noon it liche, Ne by a thousand deel so riche, 1075 Ne noon so fair; for it ful wel With orfrays leyd was everydel, And portrayed in the ribaninges Of dukes stories, and of kinges. And with a bend of gold tasseled, 1080 And knoppes fyne of gold ameled. Aboute hir nekke of gentil entaile Was shet the riche chevesaile,	Par derriere dusques as os, Qu'il abaissent des bons les los, Et desloent les aloés, 1050 Et si loent les desloés. Maint prodommes ont encusés, Et de lor honnor reculés Li losengier par lor losenges; Car il font ceus des cors estranges Qui déussent estre privés: Mal puissent-il estre arivés Icil losengier plain d'envie! Car nus prodons n'aime lor vie. Richece ot une porpre robe, 1060 Ice ne tenés mie à lobe, Que je vous di bien et afiche Qu'il n'ot si bele, ne si riche Où monde, ne si envoisie. La porpre fu toute orfroisie; Si ot portraites à orfrois Estoires de dus et de rois. Si estoit au col bien orlée D'une bende d'or néélée Moult richement, sachiés sans faille. 1070 Si i avoit tretout à taille
[139] In which ther was ful gret plentee Of stones clere and bright to see. 1085 Rychesse a girdel hadde upon, The bokel of it was of a stoon Of vertu greet, and mochel of might; For who-so bar the stoon so bright, Of venim [thurte] him no-thing doute, 1090 While he the stoon hadde him aboute. That stoon was greetly for to love, And til a riche mannes bihove Worth al the gold in Rome and Fryse. The mourdaunt, wrought in noble wyse, 1095 Was of a stoon ful precious, That was so fyn and vertuous, That hool a man it coude make Of palasye, and of tooth-ake. And yit the stoon hadde suche a grace, 1100 That he was siker in every place, Al thilke day, not blind to been, That fasting mighte that stoon seen. The barres were of gold ful fyne, Upon a tissu of satyne, 1105 Ful hevy, greet, and no-thing light, In everich was a besaunt-wight. Upon the tresses of Richesse Was set a cercle, for noblesse,	De riches pierres grant plenté Qui moult rendoient grant clarté. Richece ot ung moult riche ceint Par desus cele porpre ceint; La boucle d'une pierre fu Qui ot grant force et grant vertu: Car cis qui sor soi la portoit, Nes uns venins ne redotoit: Nus nel pooit envenimer, 1080 Moult faisoit la pierre à aimer. Ele vausist à ung prodomme Miex que trestous li ors de Romme. D'une pierre fu li mordens, Qui garissoit du mal des dens; Et si avoit ung tel éur, Que cis pooit estre asséur Tretous les jors de sa véue, Qui à géun l'avoit véue. Li clou furent d'or esmeré, 1090 Qui erent el tissu doré; Si estoient gros et pesant, En chascun ot bien ung besant. Richece ot sus ses treces sores Ung cercle d'or; onques encores
[140] Of brend gold, that ful lighte shoon; 1110 So fair, trowe I, was never noon. But he were cunning, for the nones, That coude devysen alle the stones That in that cercle shewen clere; It is a wonder thing to here. 1115 For no man coude preyse or gesse Of hem the valewe or richesse. Rubyes there were, saphyres, iagounces, And emeraudes, more than two ounces. But al bifore, ful sotilly, 1120 A fyn carboucle set saugh I. The stoon so cleer was and so bright, That, al-so sone as it was night, Men mighte seen to go, for nede, A myle or two, in lengthe and brede. 1125 Swich light [tho] sprang out of the stoon, That Richesse wonder brighte shoon, Bothe hir heed, and al hir face, And eke aboute hir al the place. Dame Richesse on hir hond gan lede 1130 A yong man ful of semelihede, That she best loved of any thing; His lust was muche in housholding.	Ne fu si biaus véus, ce cuit, Car il fu tout d'or fin recuit; Mès cis seroit bons devisierres Qui vous sauroit toutes les pierres, Qui i estoient, devisier, 1100 Car l'en ne porroit pas prisier L'avoir que les pierres valoient, Qui en l'or assises estoient. Rubis i ot, saphirs, jagonces, Esmeraudes plus de dix onces. Mais devant ot, par grant mestrise, Une escharboucle où cercle assise, Et la pierre si clere estoit, Que maintenant qu'il anuitoit, L'en s'en véist bien au besoing 1110 Conduire d'une liue loing. Tel clarté de la pierre yssoit, Que Richece en resplendissoit Durement le vis et la face, Et entor li toute la place. Richece tint parmi la main Ung valet de grant biauté plain, Qui fu ses amis veritiez. C'est uns hons qui en biaus ostiez
[141] In clothing was he ful fetys, And lovede wel have hors of prys. 1135 He wende to have reproved be Of thefte or mordre, if that he Hadde in his stable an hakeney. And therfore he desyred ay To been aqueynted with Richesse; 1140 For al his purpos, as I gesse, Was for to make greet dispense, Withoute werning or defence. And Richesse mighte it wel sustene, And hir dispenses wel mayntene, 1145 And him alwey swich plentee sende Of gold and silver for to spende Withoute lakking or daungere, As it were poured in a garnere. Largesse. And after on the daunce wente 1150 Largesse, that sette al hir entente For to be honourable and free; Of Alexandres kin was she; Hir moste Ioye was, y-wis, Whan that she yaf, and seide, 'have this.' 1155 Not Avarice, the foule caytyf, Was half to grype so ententyf,	Maintenir moult se délitoit. 1120 Cis se chauçoit bien et vestoit, Si avoit les chevaus de pris; Cis cuidast bien estre repris Ou de murtre, ou de larrecin, S'en s'estable éust ung roucin. Por ce amoit-il moult l'acointance De Richece et la bien-voillance, Qu'il avoit tous jors en porpens De demener les grans despens, Et el les pooit bien soffrir, 1130 Et tous ses despens maintenir; El li donnoit autant deniers Cum s'el les puisast en greniers. Après refu Largece assise, Qui fu bien duite et bien aprise De faire honor, et de despendre: El fu du linage Alexandre; Si n'avoit-el joie de rien Cum quant el pooit dire, 'tien.' Neis Avarice la chétive 1140 N'ert pas si à prendre ententive
[142] As Largesse is to yeve and spende. And god y-nough alwey hir sende, So that the more she yaf awey, 1160 The more, y-wis, she hadde alwey. Gret loos hath Largesse, and gret prys; For bothe wys folk and unwys Were hoolly to hir baundon brought, So wel with yiftes hath she wrought. 1165 And if she hadde an enemy, I trowe, that she coude craftily Make him ful sone hir freend to be, So large of yift and free was she; Therfore she stood in love and grace 1170 Of riche and povre in every place. A ful gret fool is he, y-wis, That bothe riche and nigard is. A lord may have no maner vice That greveth more than avarice. 1175 For nigard never with strengthe of hond May winne him greet lordship or lond. For freendes al to fewe hath he To doon his wil perfourmed be. And who-so wol have freendes here, 1180 He may not holde his tresour dere. For by ensample I telle this, Right as an adamaunt, y-wis,	Cum Largece ere de donner; Et Diex li fesoit foisonner Ses biens si qu'ele ne savoit Tant donner, cum el plus avoit. Moult a Largece pris et los; Ele a les sages et les fos Outréement à son bandon, Car ele savoit fere biau don; S'ainsinc fust qu'aucuns la haïst, 1150 Si cuit-ge que de ceus féist Ses amis par son biau servise; Et por ce ot-ele à devise L'amor des povres et des riches. Moult est fos haus homs qui est chiches! Haus homs ne puet avoir nul vice, Qui tant li griet cum avarice: Car hons avers ne puet conquerre Ne seignorie ne grant terre; Car il n'a pas d'amis plenté, 1160 Dont il face sa volenté. Mès qui amis vodra avoir Si n'ait mie chier son avoir, Ains par biaus dons amis acquiere: Car tout en autretel maniere
[143] Can drawen to him sotilly The yren, that is leyd therby, 1185 So draweth folkes hertes, y-wis, Silver and gold that yeven is. Largesse hadde on a robe fresshe Of riche purpur Sarsinesshe. Wel fourmed was hir face and clere, 1190 And opened had she hir colere; For she right there hadde in present Unto a lady maad present Of a gold broche, ful wel wrought. And certes, it missat hir nought; 1195 For through hir smokke, wrought with silk, The flesh was seen, as whyt as milk. Largesse, that worthy was and wys, Held by the honde a knight of prys, Was sib to Arthour of Bretaigne. 1200 And that was he that bar the enseigne Of worship, and the gonfanoun. And yit he is of swich renoun, That men of him seye faire thinges Bifore barouns, erles, and kinges. 1205 This knight was comen al newely Fro tourneyinge faste by;	Cum la pierre de l'aïment Trait à soi le fer soutilment, Ainsinc atrait les cuers des gens Li ors qu'en donne et li argens. Largece ot robe toute fresche 1170 D'une porpre Sarrazinesche; S'ot le vis bel et bien formé; Mès el ot son col deffermé, Qu'el avoit iluec en présent A une dame fet présent, N'avoit gueres, de son fermal, Et ce ne li séoit pas mal, Que sa cheveçaille iert overte, Et sa gorge si descoverte, Que parmi outre la chemise 1180 Li blanchoioit sa char alise. Largece la vaillant, la sage, Tint ung chevalier du linage Au bon roy Artus de Bretaigne; Ce fu cil qui porta l'enseigne De Valor et le gonfanon. Encor est-il de tel renom, Que l'en conte de li les contes Et devant rois et devant contes. Cil chevalier novelement 1190 Fu venus d'ung tornoiement,
[144] Ther hadde he doon gret chivalrye Through his vertu and his maistrye; And for the love of his lemman 1210 [Had] cast doun many a doughty man. And next him daunced dame Fraunchyse, Fraunchyse. Arrayed in ful noble gyse. She was not broun ne dun of hewe, But whyt as snowe y-fallen newe. 1215 Hir nose was wrought at poynt devys, For it was gentil and tretys; With eyen gladde, and browes bente; Hir heer doun to hir heles wente. And she was simple as dowve on tree, 1220 Ful debonaire of herte was she. She durste never seyn ne do But that [thing] that hir longed to. And if a man were in distresse, And for hir love in hevinesse, 1225 Hir herte wolde have ful greet pitee, She was so amiable and free. For were a man for hir bistad, She wolde ben right sore adrad That she dide over greet outrage, 1230 But she him holpe his harm to aswage;	Où il ot faite por s'amie Mainte jouste et mainte envaïe, Et percié maint escu bouclé, Maint hiaume i avoit desserclé, Et maint chevalier abatu, Et pris par force et par vertu. Après tous ceus se tint Franchise, Qui ne fu ne brune ne bise, Ains ere blanche comme nois; 1200 Et si n'ot pas nés d'Orlenois, Ainçois l'avoit lonc et traitis, Iex vairs rians, sorcis votis: S'ot les chevous et blons, et lons, Et fu simple comme uns coulons. Le cuer ot dous et debonnaire: Ele n'osast dire ne faire A nuli riens qu'el ne déust; Et s'ele ung homme cognéust Qui fust destrois por s'amitié, 1210 Tantost éust de li pitié, Qu'ele ot le cuer si pitéable, Et si dous et si amiable, Que se nus por li mal traisist, S'el ne li aidast, el crainsist Qu'el féïst trop grant vilonnie. Vestue ot une sorquanie,
[145] Hir thoughte it elles a vilanye. And she hadde on a sukkenye, That not of hempen herdes was; So fair was noon in alle Arras. 1235 Lord, it was rideled fetysly! Ther nas nat oo poynt, trewely, That it nas in his right assyse. Ful wel y-clothed was Fraunchyse; For ther is no cloth sitteth bet 1240 On damiselle, than doth roket. A womman wel more fetys is In roket than in cote, y-wis. The whyte roket, rideled faire, Bitokened, that ful debonaire 1245 And swete was she that it bere. By hir daunced a bachelere; I can not telle you what he highte, But fair he was, and of good highte, Al hadde he be, I sey no more, 1250 The lordes sone of Windesore. Curtesye. And next that daunced Curtesye, That preised was of lowe and hye, For neither proud ne fool was she. She for to daunce called me,	Qui ne fu mie de borras: N'ot si bele jusqu'à Arras; Car el fu si coillie et jointe, 1220 Qu'il n'i ot une seule pointe Qui à son droit ne fust assise. Moult fu bien vestue Franchise; Car nule robe n'est si bele Que sorquanie à damoisele. Fame est plus cointe et plus mignote En sorquanie que en cote: La sorquanie qui fu blanche, Senefioit que douce et franche Estoit cele qui la vestoit. 1230 Uns bachelers jones s'estoit Pris à Franchise lez à lez, Ne soi comment ert apelé, Mès biaus estoit, se il fust ores Fiex au seignor de Gundesores. Après se tenoit Courtoisie, Qui moult estoit de tous prisie, Si n'ere orguilleuse ne fole. C'est cele qui à la karole
[146] 1255 (I pray god yeve hir right good grace!) Whan I com first into the place. She was not nyce, ne outrageous, But wys and war, and vertuous, Of faire speche, and faire answere; 1260 Was never wight misseid of here; She bar no rancour to no wight. Cleer broun she was, and therto bright Of face, of body avenaunt; I wot no lady so plesaunt. 1265 She were worthy for to bene An emperesse or crouned quene. And by hir wente a knight dauncing That worthy was and wel speking, And ful wel coude he doon honour. 1270 The knight was fair and stif in stour, And in armure a semely man, And wel biloved of his lemman. Ydelnesse. Fair Ydelnesse than saugh I, That alwey was me faste by. 1275 Of hir have I, withouten fayle, Told yow the shap and apparayle For (as I seide) lo, that was she That dide me so greet bountee,	La soe merci m'apela 1240 Ains que nule, quant je vins là. El ne fu ne nice, n'umbrage, Mès sages auques sans outrage, De biaus respons et de biaus dis, Onc nus ne fu par li laidis, Ne ne porta nului rancune. El fu clere comme la lune Est avers les autres estoiles Qui ne resemblent que chandoiles. Faitisse estoit et avenant, 1250 Je ne sai fame plus plaisant. Ele ere entoutes cors bien digne D'estre emperieris, ou roïne. A li se tint uns chevaliers Acointables et biaus parliers, Qui sot bien faire honor as gens. Li chevaliers fu biaus et gens, Et as armes bien acesmés, Et de s'amie bien amés. La bele Oiseuse vint après, 1260 Qui se tint de moi assés près. De cele vous ai dit sans faille Toute la façon et la taille; Jà plus ne vous en iert conté, Car c'est cele qui la bonté
[147] That she the gate of the gardin 1280 Undide, and leet me passen in. Youthe. And after daunced, as I gesse, [Youthe], fulfild of lustinesse, That nas not yit twelve yeer of age, With herte wilde, and thought volage; 1285 Nyce she was, but she ne mente Noon harm ne slight in hir entente, But only lust and Iolitee. For yonge folk, wel witen ye, Have litel thought but on hir play. 1290 Hir lemman was bisyde alway, In swich a gyse, that he hir kiste At alle tymes that him liste, That al the daunce mighte it see; They make no force of privetee; 1295 For who spak of hem yvel or wel, They were ashamed never-a-del, But men mighte seen hem kisse there, As it two yonge douves were. For yong was thilke bachelere, 1300 Of beaute wot I noon his pere; And he was right of swich an age As Youthe his leef, and swich corage. The lusty folk thus daunced there, And also other that with hem were,	Me fist si grant qu'ele m'ovri Le guichet del vergier flori. Après se tint mien esciant, Jonesce, au vis cler et luisant, Qui n'avoit encores passés, 1270 Si cum je cuit, douze ans d'assés. Nicete fu, si ne pensoit Nul mal, ne nul engin qui soit; Mès moult iert envoisie et gaie, Car jone chose ne s'esmaie Fors de joer, bien le savés. Ses amis iert de li privés En tel guise, qu'il la besoit Toutes les fois que li plesoit, Voians tous ceus de la karole: 1280 Car qui d'aus deus tenist parole, Il n'en fussent jà vergondeus, Ains les véissiés entre aus deus Baisier comme deus columbiaus. Le valés fu jones et biaus, Si estoit bien d'autel aage Cum s'amie, et d'autel corage. Ainsi karoloient ilecques, Ceste gens, et autres avecques,
[148] 1305 That weren alle of hir meynee; Ful hende folk, and wys, and free, And folk of fair port, trewely, Ther weren alle comunly. Whan I hadde seen the countenaunces 1310 Of hem that ladden thus these daunces, Than hadde I wil to goon and see The gardin that so lyked me, And loken on these faire loreres, On pyn-trees, cedres, and oliveres. 1315 The daunces than y-ended were; For many of hem that daunced there Were with hir loves went awey Under the trees to have hir pley. A, lord! they lived lustily! 1320 A gret fool were he, sikerly, That nolde, his thankes, swich lyf lede! For this dar I seyn, out of drede, That who-so mighte so wel fare, For better lyf [thurte] him not care; 1325 For ther nis so good paradys As have a love at his devys. Out of that place wente I tho, And in that gardin gan I go,	Qui estoient de lor mesnies, 1290 Franches gens et bien enseignies, Et gens de bel afetement Estoient tuit communément. Quant j'oi véues les semblances De ceus qui menoient les dances, J'oi lors talent que le vergier Alasse véoir et cerchier, Et remirer ces biaus moriers, Ces pins, ces codres, ces loriers. Les karoles jà remanoient, 1300 Car tuit li plusors s'en aloient O lor amies umbroier Sous ces arbres por dosnoier. Diex, cum menoient bonne vie! Fox est qui n'a de tel envie; Qui autel vie avoir porroit, De mieudre bien se sofferroit, Qu'il n'est nul greignor paradis Qu'avoir amie à son devis. D'ilecques me parti atant, 1310 Si m'en alai seus esbatant
[149] Pleying along ful merily. 1330 The God of Love ful hastely Unto him Swete-Loking clepte, No lenger wolde he that he kepte His bowe of golde, that shoon so bright. He [bad] him [bende it] anon-right; 1335 And he ful sone [it] sette on ende, And at a braid he gan it bende, And took him of his arowes fyve, Ful sharpe and redy for to dryve. Now god that sit in magestee 1340 Fro deedly woundes kepe me, If so be that he [wol] me shete; For if I with his arowe mete, It [wol me greven] sore, y-wis! But I, that no-thing wiste of this, 1345 Wente up and doun ful many a wey, And he me folwed faste alwey; But no-wher wolde I reste me, Til I hadde al the [yerde in] be. The gardin was, by mesuring, 1350 Right even and squar in compassing; It was as long as it was large. The Trees. Of fruyt hadde every tree his charge,	Par le vergier de çà en là; Et li Diex d'Amors apela Tretout maintenant Dous-Regart: N'a or plus cure qu'il li gart Son arc: donques sans plus atendre L'arc li a commandé à tendre, Et cis gaires n'i atendi, Tout maintenant l'arc li tendi, Si li bailla et cinq sajetes 1320 Fors et poissans, d'aler loing prestes. Li Diex d'Amors tantost de loing Me prist à suivir, l'arc où poing. Or me gart Diex de mortel plaie! Se il fait tant que à moi traie, Il me grevera moult forment. Je qui de ce ne soi noient, Vois par la vergier à délivre, Et cil pensa bien de moi sivre; Mès en nul leu ne m'arresté, 1330 Devant que j'oi par tout esté. Li vergiers par compasséure Si fu de droite quarréure, S'ot de lonc autant cum de large; Nus arbres qui soit qui fruit charge,
[150] But it were any hidous tree Of which ther were two or three. 1355 Ther were, and that wot I ful wel, Of pomgarnettes a ful gret del; That is a fruyt ful wel to lyke, Namely to folk whan they ben syke. And trees ther were, greet foisoun, 1360 That baren notes in hir sesoun, Such as men notemigges calle, That swote of savour been withalle. And alemandres greet plentee, Figes, and many a date-tree 1365 Ther weren, if men hadde nede, Through the gardin in length and brede. Ther was eek wexing many a spyce, As clow-gelofre, and licoryce, Gingere, and greyn de paradys, 1370 Canelle, and setewale of prys, And many a spyce delitable, To eten whan men ryse fro table. And many hoomly trees ther were, That peches, coynes, and apples bere, 1375 Medlers, ploumes, peres, chesteynes, Cheryse, of whiche many on fayn is,	Se n'est aucuns arbres hideus, Dont il n'i ait ou ung, ou deus Où vergier, ou plus, s'il avient. Pomiers i ot, bien m'en sovient, Qui chargoient pomes grenades, 1340 C'est uns fruis moult bons à malades; De noiers i ot grant foison, Qui chargoient en la saison Itel fruit cum sunt nois mugades, Qui ne sunt ameres, ne fades; Alemandiers y ot planté, Et si ot où vergier planté Maint figuier, et maint biau datier; Si trovast qu'en éust mestier, Où vergier mainte bone espice, 1350 Cloz de girofle et requelice, Graine de paradis novele, Citoal, anis, et canele, Et mainte espice délitable, Que bon mengier fait après table. Où vergier ot arbres domesches, Qui chargoient et coins et pesches, Chataignes, nois, pommes et poires, Nefles, prunes blanches et noires,
[151] Notes, aleys, and bolas, That for to seen it was solas; With many high lorer and pyn 1380 Was renged clene al that gardyn; With cipres, and with oliveres, Of which that nigh no plente here is. Ther were elmes grete and stronge, Maples, asshe, ook, asp, planes longe, 1385 Fyn ew, popler, and lindes faire, And othere trees ful many a payre. What sholde I telle you more of it? Ther were so many treës yit, That I sholde al encombred be 1390 Er I had rekened every tree. These trees were set, that I devyse, Oon from another, in assyse, Five fadome or sixe, I trowe so, But they were hye and grete also: 1395 And for to kepe out wel the sonne, The croppes were so thikke y-ronne, And every braunch in other knet, And ful of grene leves set, That sonne mighte noon descende, 1400 Lest [it] the tendre grasses shende.	Cerises fresches vermeilletes, 1360 Cormes, alies et noisetes; De haus loriers et de haus pins Refu tous pueplés li jardin, Et d'oliviers et de ciprés, Dont il n'a gaires ici prés; Ormes y ot branchus et gros, Et avec ce charmes et fos, Codres droites, trembles et chesnes, Erables haus, sapins et fresnes. Que vous iroie-je notant? 1370 De divers arbres i ot tant, Que moult en seroie encombrés, Ains que les éusse nombrés. Sachiés por voir, li arbres furent Si loing à loing cum estre durent. Li ung fu loing de l'autre assis Plus de cinq toises, ou de sis: Mès li rain furent lonc et haut, Et por le leu garder de chaut, Furent si espés par deseure, 1380 Que li solaus en nesune eure Ne pooit à terre descendre, Ne faire mal à l'erbe tendre.
[152] Ther mighte men does and roes y-see, And of squirels ful greet plentee, From bough to bough alwey leping. Conies ther were also playing, 1405 That comen out of hir claperes Of sondry colours and maneres, And maden many a turneying Upon the fresshe gras springing. The Welles. In places saw I WELLES there, 1410 In whiche ther no frogges were, And fair in shadwe was every welle; But I ne can the nombre telle Of stremes smale, that by devys Mirthe had don come through condys, 1415 Of which the water, in renning, Gan make a noyse ful lyking. About the brinkes of thise welles, And by the stremes over-al elles Sprang up the gras, as thikke y-set 1420 And softe as any veluët, On which men mighte his lemman leye, As on a fetherbed, to pleye, For therthe was ful softe and swete. Through moisture of the welle wete	Où vergier ot daims et chevrions, Et moult grant plenté d'escoirions, Qui par ces arbres gravissoient; Connins i avoit qui issoient Toute jor hors de lor tesnieres, Et en plus de trente manieres Aloient entr'eus tornoiant 1390 Sor l'erbe fresche verdoiant. Il ot par leus cleres fontaines, Sans barbelotes et sans raines, Cui li arbres fesoient umbre; Mès n'en sai pas dire le numbre. Par petis tuiaus que Déduis Y ot fet fere, et par conduis S'en aloit l'iaue aval, fesant Une noise douce et plesant. Entor les ruissiaus et les rives 1400 Des fontaines cleres et vives, Poignoit l'erbe freschete et drue; Ausinc y poïst-l'en sa drue Couchier comme sur une coite, Car la terre estoit douce et moite Por la fontaine, et i venoit Tant d'erbe cum il convenoit.
[153] 1425 Sprang up the sote grene gras, As fair, as thikke, as mister was. But muche amended it the place, That therthe was of swich a grace That it of floures had plente, 1430 That both in somer and winter be. Ther sprang the violete al newe, And fresshe pervinke, riche of hewe, And floures yelowe, whyte, and rede; Swich plentee grew ther never in mede. 1435 Ful gay was al the ground, and queynt, And poudred, as men had it peynt, With many a fresh and sondry flour, That casten up ful good savour. I wol not longe holde you in fable 1440 Of al this gardin delitable. I moot my tonge stinten nede, For I ne may, withouten drede, Naught tellen you the beautee al, Ne half the bountee therewithal. 1445 I wente on right honde and on left Aboute the place; it was not left, Til I hadde al the [yerde in] been, In the estres that men mighte seen.	Mès moult embelissoit l'afaire Li leus qui ere de tel aire, Qu'il i avoit tous jours plenté 1410 De flors et yver et esté. Violete y avoit trop bele, Et parvenche fresche et novele; Flors y ot blanches et vermeilles, De jaunes en i ot merveilles. Trop par estoit la terre cointe, Qu'ele ere piolée et pointe De flors de diverses colors, Dont moult sunt bonnes les odors. Ne vous tenrai jà longue fable 1420 Du leu plesant et délitable; Orendroit m'en convenra taire, Que ge ne porroie retraire Du vergier toute la biauté, Ne la grant délitableté. Tant fui à destre et à senestre, Que j'oi tout l'afere et tout l'estre Du vergier cerchié et véu; Et li Diex d'Amors m'a séu
[154] And thus whyle I wente in my pley, 1450 The God of Love me folowed ay, Right as an hunter can abyde The beste, til he seeth his tyde To shete, at good mes, to the dere, Whan that him nedeth go no nere. 1455 And so befil, I rested me Besyde a welle, under a tree, Which tree in Fraunce men calle a pyn. But, sith the tyme of king Pepyn, Ne grew ther tree in mannes sighte 1460 So fair, ne so wel woxe in highte; In al that yerde so high was noon. And springing in a marble-stoon Had nature set, the sothe to telle, Under that pyn-tree a welle. 1465 And on the border, al withoute, Was writen, in the stone aboute, Lettres smale, that seyden thus, Here starf the faire Narcisus.' Narcisus. Narcisus was a bachelere, 1470 That Love had caught in his daungere, And in his net gan him so streyne, And dide him so to wepe and pleyne, That nede him muste his lyf forgo. For a fair lady, hight Echo,	Endementiers en agaitant, 1430 Cum li venieres qui atant Que la beste en bel leu se mete Por lessier aler la sajete. En ung trop biau leu arrivé, Au darrenier, où je trouvé Une fontaine sous ung pin; Mais puis Karles le fils Pepin, Ne fu ausinc biau pin véus, Et si estoit si haut créus, Qu'où vergier n'ot nul si bel arbre. 1440 Dedens une pierre de marbre Ot nature par grant mestrise Sous le pin la fontaine assise: Si ot dedens la pierre escrites Où bort amont letres petites Qui disoient: 'ici desus Se mori li biaus Narcisus.' Narcisus fu uns damoisiaus Que Amors tint en ses roisiaus, Et tant le sot Amors destraindre, 1450 Et tant le fist plorer et plaindre, Que li estuet à rendre l'ame: Car Equo, une haute dame,
[155] 1475 Him loved over any creature, And gan for him swich peyne endure, That on a tyme she him tolde, That, if he hir loven nolde, That hir behoved nedes dye, 1480 Ther lay non other remedye. But natheles, for his beautee, So fiers and daungerous was he, That he nolde graunten hir asking, For weping, ne for fair praying. 1485 And whan she herde him werne hir so, She hadde in herte so gret wo, And took it in so gret dispyt, That she, withoute more respyt, Was deed anoon. But, er she deyde, 1490 Ful pitously to god she preyde, That proude-herted Narcisus, That was in love so daungerous, Mighte on a day ben hampred so For love, and been so hoot for wo, 1495 That never he mighte Ioye atteyne; Than shulde he fele in every veyne What sorowe trewe lovers maken, That been so vilaynsly forsaken.	L'avoit amé plus que riens née. El fu par lui si mal menée Qu'ele li dist qu'il li donroit S'amor, ou ele se morroit. Mès cis fu por sa grant biauté Plains de desdaing et de fierté, Si ne la li volt otroier, 1460 Ne por chuer, ne por proier. Quant ele s'oï escondire, Si en ot tel duel et tel ire, Et le tint en si grant despit, Que morte en fu sans lonc respit; Mès ainçois qu'ele se morist, Ele pria Diex et requist Que Narcisus au cuer ferasche, Qu'ele ot trové d'amors si flasche, Fust asproiés encore ung jor, 1470 Et eschaufés d'autel amor Dont il ne péust joie atendre; Si porroit savoir et entendre Quel duel ont li loial amant Que l'en refuse si vilment.
[156] This prayer was but resonable, 1500 Therefor god held it ferme and stable: For Narcisus, shortly to telle, By aventure com to that welle To reste him in that shadowing A day, whan he com fro hunting. 1505 This Narcisus had suffred paynes For renning alday in the playnes, And was for thurst in greet distresse Of hete, and of his werinesse That hadde his breeth almost binomen. 1510 Whan he was to that welle y-comen, That shadwed was with braunches grene, He thoughte of thilke water shene To drinke and fresshe him wel withalle; And doun on knees he gan to falle, 1515 And forth his heed and nekke out-straughte To drinken of that welle a draughte And in the water anoon was sene His nose, his mouth, his yën shene, And he ther-of was al abasshed; 1520 His owne shadowe had him bitrasshed. For wel wende he the forme see Of a child of greet beautee.	Cele proiere fu resnable, Et por ce la fist Diex estable, Que Narcisus, par aventure, A la fontaine clere et pure Se vint sous le pin umbroier, 1480 Ung jour qu'il venoit d'archoier, Et avoit soffert grant travail De corre et amont et aval, Tant qu'il ot soif por l'aspreté Du chault, et por la lasseté Qui li ot tolue l'alaine. Et quant il vint à la fontaine Que li pins de ses rains covroit, Il se pensa que il bevroit: Sus la fontaine, tout adens 1490 Se mist lors por boivre dedans. Si vit en l'iaue clere et nete Son vis, son nés et sa bouchete, Et cis maintenant s'esbahi; Car ses umbres l'ot si trahi, Que cuida véoir la figure D'ung enfant bel à desmesure.
[157] Wel couthe Love him wreke tho Of daunger and of pryde also, 1525 That Narcisus somtyme him bere. He quitte him wel his guerdon there; For he so musede in the welle, That, shortly al the sothe to telle, He lovede his owne shadowe so, 1530 That atte laste he starf for wo. For whan he saugh that he his wille Mighte in no maner wey fulfille, And that he was so faste caught That he him couthe comfort naught, 1535 He loste his wit right in that place, And deyde within a litel space. And thus his warisoun he took For the lady that he forsook. Ladyes, I preye ensample taketh, 1540 Ye that ayeins your love mistaketh: For if hir deeth be yow to wyte, God can ful wel your whyle quyte. Whan that this lettre, of whiche I telle, Had taught me that it was the welle 1545 Of Narcisus in his beautee, I gan anoon withdrawe me,	Lors se sot bien Amors vengier Du grant orguel et du dangier Que Narcisus li ot mené. 1500 Lors li fu bien guerredoné, Qu'il musa tant à la fontaine, Qu'il ama son umbre demaine, Si en fu mors à la parclose. Ce est la somme de la chose: Car quant il vit qu'il ne porroit Acomplir ce qu'il desirroit, Et qu'il i fu si pris par sort, Qu'il n'en pooit avoir confort En nule guise, n'en nul sens, 1510 Il perdi d'ire tout le sens, Et fu mors en poi de termine. Ainsinc si ot de la meschine Qu'il avoit d'amors escondite, Son guerredon et sa merite. Dames, cest exemple aprenés, Qui vers vos amis mesprenés; Car se vous les lessiés morir, Diex le vous sara bien merir. Quant li escris m'ot fait savoir 1520 Que ce estoit tretout por voir La fontaine au biau Narcisus, Je m'en trais lors ung poi en sus,
[158] Whan it fel in my remembraunce, That him bitidde swich mischaunce. But at the laste than thoughte I, 1550 That scatheles, ful sikerly, The Welle. I mighte unto The Welle go. Wherof shulde I abasshen so? Unto the welle than wente I me, And doun I louted for to see 1555 The clere water in the stoon, And eek the gravel, which that shoon Down in the botme, as silver fyn; For of the welle, this is the fyn, In world is noon so cleer of hewe. 1560 The water is ever fresh and newe That welmeth up with wawes brighte The mountance of two finger highte. Abouten it is gras springing, For moiste so thikke and wel lyking, 1565 That it ne may in winter dye, No more than may the see be drye. Down at the botme set saw I Two cristal stones craftely In thilke fresshe and faire welle. 1570 But o thing soothly dar I telle,	Que dedens n'osai regarder, Ains commençai à coarder, Quant de Narcisus me sovint, Cui malement en mesavint; Mès ge me pensai qu'asséur, Sans paor de mavés éur, A la fontaine aler pooie, 1530 Por folie m'en esmaioie. De la fontaine m'apressai, Quant ge fui près, si m'abessai Por véoir l'iaue qui coroit, Et la gravele qui paroit Au fons plus clere qu'argens fins, De la fontaine c'est la fins. En tout le monde n'ot si bele, L'iaue est tousdis fresche et novele, Qui nuit et jor sourt à grans ondes 1540 Par deux doiz creuses et parfondes. Tout entour point l'erbe menue, Qui vient por l'iaue espesse et drue, Et en iver ne puet morir Ne que l'iaue ne puet tarir. Où fons de la fontaine aval Avoit deux pierres de cristal Qu'à grande entente remirai, Et une chose vous dirai,
[159] That ye wol holde a greet mervayle Whan it is told, withouten fayle. For whan the sonne, cleer in sighte, Cast in that welle his bemes brighte, 1575 And that the heet descended is, Than taketh the cristal stoon, y-wis, Agayn the sonne an hundred hewes, Blewe, yelowe, and rede, that fresh and newe is. Yit hath the merveilous cristal 1580 Swich strengthe, that the place overal, Bothe fowl and tree, and leves grene, And al the yerd in it is sene. And for to doon you understonde, To make ensample wol I fonde; 1585 Right as a mirour openly Sheweth al thing that stant therby, As wel the colour as the figure, Withouten any coverture; Right so the cristal stoon, shyning, 1590 Withouten any disceyving, The estres of the yerde accuseth To him that in the water museth; For ever, in which half that he be, He may wel half the gardin see;	Qu'à merveilles, ce cuit, tenrés 1550 Tout maintenant que vous l'orrés. Quant li solaus qui tout aguete, Ses rais en la fontaine giete, Et la clartés aval descent, Lors perent colors plus de cent Où cristal, qui por le soleil Devient ynde, jaune et vermeil: Si ot le cristal merveilleus Itel force que tous li leus, Arbres et flors et quanqu'aorne 1560 Li vergiers, i pert tout aorne; Et por faire la chose entendre, Un essample vous veil aprendre. Ainsinc cum li miréors montre Les choses qui li sunt encontre, Et y voit-l'en sans coverture Et lor color, et lor figure; Tretout ausinc vous dis por voir, Que li cristal, sans décevoir, Tout l'estre du vergier accusent 1570 A ceus qui dedens l'iaue musent: Car tous jours quelque part qu'il soient, L'une moitié du vergier voient;
[160] 1595 And if he turne, he may right wel Seen the remenaunt everydel. For ther is noon so litel thing So hid, ne closed with shitting, That it ne is sene, as though it were 1600 Peynted in the cristal there. This is the mirour perilous, In which the proude Narcisus Saw al his face fair and bright, That made him sith to lye upright. 1605 For who-so loke in that mirour, Ther may no-thing ben his socour That he ne shal ther seen som thing That shal him lede into [loving]. Ful many a worthy man hath it 1610 Y-blent; for folk of grettest wit Ben sone caught here and awayted; Withouten respyt been they bayted. Heer comth to folk of-newe rage, Heer chaungeth many wight corage; 1615 Heer lyth no reed ne wit therto; For Venus sone, daun Cupido, Hath sowen there of love the seed, That help ne lyth ther noon, ne reed,	Et s'il se tornent maintenant, Pueent véoir le remenant. Si n'i a si petite chose, Tant reposte, ne tant enclose, Dont démonstrance n'i soit faite, Cum s'ele iert es cristaus portraite. C'est li miréoirs périlleus, 1580 Où Narcisus li orguilleus Mira sa face et ses yex vers, Dont il jut puis mors tout envers. Qui en cel miréor se mire, Ne puet avoir garant de mire, Que tel chose à ses yex ne voie, Qui d'amer l'a tost mis en voie. Maint vaillant homme a mis à glaive Cis miréors, car li plus saive, Li plus preus, li miex afetié 1590 I sunt tost pris et aguetié. Ci sourt as gens novele rage, Ici se changent li corage; Ci n'a mestier sens, ne mesure, Ci est d'amer volenté pure; Ci ne se set conseiller nus; Car Cupido, li fils Venus,
[161] So cercleth it the welle aboute. 1620 His ginnes hath he set withoute Right for to cacche in his panteres These damoysels and bacheleres. Love wil noon other bridde cacche, Though he sette either net or lacche. 1625 And for the seed that heer was sowen, This welle is cleped, as wel is knowen, The Welle of Love, of verray right, Of which ther hath ful many a wight Spoke in bokes dyversely. 1630 But they shulle never so verily Descripcioun of the welle here, Ne eek the sothe of this matere, As ye shulle, whan I have undo The craft that hir bilongeth to. 1635 Alway me lyked for to dwelle, To seen the cristal in the welle, That shewed me ful openly A thousand thinges faste by. But I may saye, in sory houre 1640 Stood I to loken or to poure; For sithen [have] I sore syked, That mirour hath me now entryked.	Sema ici d'Amors la graine Qui toute a çainte la fontaine; Et fist ses las environ tendre, 1600 Et ses engins i mist por prendre Damoiseles et Damoisiaus; Qu'Amors ne velt autres oisiaus. Por la graine qui fu semée, Fu cele fontaine clamée La Fontaine d'Amors par droit, Dont plusors ont en maint endroit Parlé, en romans et en livre; Mais jamès n'orrez miex descrivre La verité de la matere, 1610 Cum ge la vous vodré retrere. Adès me plot à demorer A la fontaine, et remirer Les deus cristaus qui me monstroient Mil choses qui ilec estoient. Mès de fort hore m'i miré: Las! tant en ai puis souspiré! Cis miréors m'a decéu; Se j'éusse avant cognéu
[162] But hadde I first knowen in my wit The vertue and [the] strengthe of it, 1645 I nolde not have mused there; Me hadde bet ben elles-where; For in the snare I fel anoon, That hath bitraisshed many oon. In thilke mirour saw I tho, 1650 Among a thousand thinges mo, The Roser. A ROSER charged ful of roses, That with an hegge aboute enclos is. Tho had I swich lust and envye, That, for Parys ne for Pavye, 1655 Nolde I have left to goon and see Ther grettest hepe of roses be. Whan I was with this rage hent, That caught hath many a man and shent, Toward the roser gan I go. 1660 And whan I was not fer therfro, The savour of the roses swote Me smoot right to the herte rote, As I hadde al embawmed [be.] And if I ne hadde endouted me 1665 To have ben hated or assailed, My thankes, wolde I not have failed	Quex sa force ert et sa vertu, 1620 Ne m'i fusse jà embatu: Car meintenant où las chaï Qui meint homme ont pris et traï. Où miroer entre mil choses, Choisi rosiers chargiés de roses, Qui estoient en ung détor D'une haie clos tout entor: Adont m'en prist si grant envie, Que ne laissasse por Pavie, Ne por Paris, que ge n'alasse 1630 Là où ge vi la greignor masse. Quant cele rage m'ot si pris, Dont maint ont esté entrepris, Vers les rosiers tantost me très; Et sachiés que quant g'en fui près, L'oudor des roses savorées M'entra ens jusques es corées, Que por noient fusse embasmés: Se assailli ou mesamés
[163] To pulle a rose of al that route To beren in myn honde aboute, And smellen to it wher I wente; 1670 But ever I dredde me to repente, And lest it greved or for-thoughte The lord that thilke gardyn wroughte. Of roses were ther gret woon, So faire wexe never in roon. 1675 Of knoppes clos, some saw I there, And some wel beter woxen were; And some ther been of other moysoun, That drowe nigh to hir sesoun, And spedde hem faste for to sprede; 1680 I love wel swiche roses rede; For brode roses, and open also, Ben passed in a day or two; But knoppes wilen fresshe be Two dayes atte leest, or three. 1685 The knoppes gretly lyked me, For fairer may ther no man see. Who-so mighte haven oon of alle, It oughte him been ful leef withalle. Mighte I [a] gerlond of hem geten, 1690 For no richesse I wolde it leten.	Ne cremisse estre, g'en cuillisse, 1640 Au mains une que ge tenisse En ma main, por l'odor sentir; Mès paor oi du repentir: Car il en péust de legier Peser au seignor du vergier. Des roses i ot grans monciaus, Si beles ne vit homs sous ciaus; Boutons i ot petit et clos, Et tiex qui sunt ung poi plus gros. Si en i ot d'autre moison 1650 Qui se traient à lor soison, Et s'aprestoient d'espanir, Et cil ne font pas à haïr. Les roses overtes et lées Sunt en ung jor toutes alées; Mès li bouton durent trois frois A tout le mains deux jors ou trois. Icil bouton forment me plurent, Oncques plus bel nul leu ne crurent. Qui en porroit ung acroichier, 1660 Il le devroit avoir moult chier; S'ung chapel en péusse avoir, Je n'en préisse nul avoir.
[164] The Knoppe. Among THE KNOPPES I chees oon So fair, that of the remenaunt noon Ne preyse I half so wel as it, Whan I avyse it in my wit. 1695 For it so wel was enlumyned With colour reed, as wel [y]-fyned As nature couthe it make faire. And it had leves wel foure paire, That Kinde had set through his knowing 1700 Aboute the rede rose springing. The stalke was as risshe right, And theron stood the knoppe upright, That it ne bowed upon no syde. The swote smelle sprong so wyde 1705 That it dide al the place aboute—	Entre ces boutons en eslui Ung si très-bel, qu'envers celui Nus des autres riens ne prisié, Puis que ge l'oi bien avisié: Car une color l'enlumine, Qui est si vermeille et si fine, Com Nature la pot plus faire. 1670 Des foilles i ot quatre paire Que Nature par grant mestire I ot assises tire à tire. La coe ot droite comme jons, Et par dessus siet li boutons, Si qu'il ne cline, ne ne pent. L'odor de lui entor s'espent; La soatime qui en ist 1678 Toute la place replenist.

Almighty and al merciable quene, To whom that al this world fleeth for socour, To have relees of sinne, sorwe and tene, Glorious virgine, of alle floures flour, 5 To thee I flee, confounded in erreur! Help and releve, thou mighty debonaire, Have mercy on my perilous langour! Venquisshed me hath my cruel adversaire.	A toy du monde le refui, Vierge glorieuse, m'en fui Tout confus, ne puis miex faire; A toy me tíen, a toy m'apuy. Relieve moy, abatu suy: Vaincu m'a mon aversaire. Puis qu'en toy ont tous repaire Bien me doy vers toy retraire Avant que j'aie plus d'annuy. 10 N'est pas luite necessaire A moy, se tu, debonnayre, Ne me sequeurs comme a autrui.
[262] Bountee so fix hath in thyn herte his tente, 10 That wel I wot thou wolt my socour be, Thou canst not warne him that, with good entente, Axeth thyn help. Thyn herte is ay so free, Thou art largesse of pleyn felicitee, Haven of refut, of quiete and of reste. 15 Lo, how that theves seven chasen me! Help, lady bright, er that my ship to-breste! Comfort is noon, but in yow, lady dere, For lo, my sinne and my confusioun, Which oughten not in thy presence appere, 20 Han take on me a grevous accioun Of verrey right and desperacioun; And, as by right, they mighten wel sustene That I were worthy my dampnacioun, Nere mercy of you, blisful hevene quene. 25 Doute is ther noon, thou queen of misericorde, That thou nart cause of grace and mercy here; God vouched sauf thurgh thee with us tacorde. For certes, Cristes blisful moder dere,	Bien voy que par toy confortés Sera mes cuers desconfortés, Quer tu es de salu porte. Se je me suis mal tresportez Par .vij. larrons, pechiés mortez, Et erre par voie torte, Esperance me conforte 20 Qui à toy hui me raporte A ce que soie deportez. Ma povre arme je t'aporte: Sauve la: ne vaut que morte; En li sont tous biens avortez. Contre moy font une accion Ma vergoigne et confusion, Que devant toy ne doy venir Pour ma très grant transgression. Rayson et desperacion 30 Contre moy veulent maintenir; Mès pour ce que veil plait fenir, Devant toy les fès convenir En faisant replicacion. C'est que je di appartenir A toy du tout et convenir Pitié et miseracion. Dame es de misericorde Par qui Diex bien se recorde A sa gent estre racordé. 40 Par toy vint pes et concorde,
[263] Were now the bowe bent in swich manere, 30 As it was first, of Iustice and of yre, The rightful God nolde of no mercy here; But thurgh thee han we grace, as we desyre. Ever hath myn hope of refut been in thee, For heer-biforn ful ofte, in many a wyse, 35 Hast thou to misericorde receyved me. But mercy, lady, at the grete assyse, Whan we shul come bifore the hye Iustyse! So litel fruit shal thanne in me be founde, That, but thou er that day me wel chastyse, 40 Of verrey right my werk me wol confounde. Fleeing, I flee for socour to thy tente Me for to hyde from tempest ful of drede, Biseching you that ye you not absente, Though I be wikke. O help yit at this nede!	Et fu pour oster discorde L'arc de justice descordé; Et pour ce me sui acordé Toi mercier et concordé, Pour ce que ostas la corde; Quar, ainsi com j'ay recordé, S'encore fust l'arc encordé Comparé l'eust ma vie orde. En toy ay m'esperance eü 50 Quant a merci m'as receü Autre foys en mainte guise, Du bien qui ou ciel fu creü As ravivé et repeü M'ame qui estoit occise. Las! mès quant la grant assise Sera, se n'y es assise Pour moy mal y seray veü. De bien n'ay nulle reprise. Las m'en clain quant bien m'avise, 60 Souvent en doy dire heü! Fuiant m'en viens a ta tente Moy mucier pour la tormente Qui ou monde me tempeste. Pour mon pechié ne t'absente,
[264] 45 Al have I been a beste in wille and dede, Yit, lady, thou me clothe with thy grace. Thyn enemy and myn—lady, tak hede, Un-to my deth in poynt is me to chace. Glorious mayde and moder, which that never 50 Were bitter, neither in erthe nor in see, But ful of swetnesse and of mercy ever, Help that my fader be not wroth with me! Spek thou, for I ne dar not him y-see. So have I doon in erthe, allas ther-whyle! 55 That certes, but-if thou my socour be, To stink eterne he wol my gost exyle. He vouched sauf, tel him, as was his wille, Bicome a man, to have our alliaunce, And with his precious blood he wroot the bille 60 Up-on the crois, as general acquitaunce, To every penitent in ful creaunce; And therfor, lady bright, thou for us praye. Than shalt thou bothe stinte al his grevaunce, And make our foo to failen of his praye.	A moy garder met t'entente, A mon besoing soiez preste. Se lonc temps j'ay esté beste A ce, Vierge, je m'arreste Que de ta grace me sente. 70 Si te fais aussi requeste Que ta pitié nu me veste, Car je n'ay nulle autre rente. Glorieuse vierge mere Qui a nul onques amere Ne fus en terre ne en mer, Ta douceur ores m'apere Et ne sueffres que mon pere De devant li me jecte puer. Se devant li tout vuit j'apper, 80 Et par moy ne puis eschapper Que ma faute ne compere. Tu devant li pour moy te per En li moustrant que, s'a li per Ne sui, si est il mon frere. Homme voult par sa plaisance Devenir, pour aliance Avoir a humain lignage. Avec li crut dès enfance Pitié dont j'ai esperance 90 Avoir eu en mon usage. Elle fu mise a forage Quant au cuer lui vint mesage Du cruel fer de la lance. Ne puet estre, se sui sage, Que je n'en aie avantage, Se tu veus et abondance.
[265] 65 I wot it wel, thou wolt ben our socour, Thou art so ful of bountee, in certeyn. For, whan a soule falleth in errour, Thy pitee goth and haleth him ayeyn. Than makest thou his pees with his sovereyn, 70 And bringest him out of the crooked strete. Who-so thee loveth he shal not love in veyn, That shal he finde, as he the lyf shal lete. Kalenderes enlumined ben they That in this world ben lighted with thy name, 75 And who-so goth to you the righte wey, Him thar not drede in soule to be lame. Now, queen of comfort, sith thou art that same To whom I seche for my medicyne, Lat not my foo no more my wounde entame, 80 Myn hele in-to thyn hand al I resigne. Lady, thy sorwe can I not portreye Under the cros, ne his grevous penaunce. But, for your bothes peynes, I you preye, Lat not our alder foo make his bobaunce,	Ie ne truis par nulle voie Ou mon salut si bien voie Com, après Dieu, en toy le voy; 100 Quar quant aucun se desvoie, A ce que tost se ravoie, De ta pitié li fais convoy. Tu li fès lessier son desroy Et li refaiz sa pais au roy, Et remez en droite voie. Moult est donc cil en bon arroy, En bon atour, en bon conroy Que ta grace si conroie. Kalendier sont enluminé 110 Et autre livre enteriné Quant ton non les enlumine. A tout meschief ont resiné Ceus qui se sont acheminé A toy pour leur medicine. A moy donc, virge, t'encline, Car a toy je m'achemine Pour estre bien mediciné; Ne sueffre que de gaïnne Isse justice devine 120 Par quoy je soye exterminé. La douceur de toy pourtraire Je ne puis, a qui retraire Doit ton filz de ton sanc estrait; Pour ce a toy m'ay volu traire
[266] 85 That he hath in his listes of mischaunce Convict that ye bothe have bought so dere. As I seide erst, thou ground of our substaunce, Continue on us thy pitous eyen clere! Moises, that saugh the bush with flaumes rede 90 Brenninge, of which ther never a stikke brende, Was signe of thyn unwemmed maidenhede. Thou art the bush on which ther gan descende The Holy Gost, the which that Moises wende Had ben a-fyr; and this was in figure. 95 Now lady, from the fyr thou us defende Which that in helle eternally shal dure. Noble princesse, that never haddest pere, Certes, if any comfort in us be, That cometh of thee, thou Cristes moder dere, 100 We han non other melodye or glee Us to reioyse in our adversitee, Ne advocat noon that wol and dar so preye For us, and that for litel hyre as ye, That helpen for an Ave-Marie or tweye.	Afin que contre moy traire Ne le sueuffres nul cruel trait. Je recongnois bien mon mesfait Et qu'au colier j'ai souvent trait Dont l'en me devroit detraire; 130 Mez se tu veus tu as l'entrait Par quoy tantost sera retrait Le mehain qui m'est contraire. Moyses vit en figure Que tu, vierge nete et pure, Jesu le filz Dieu conceüs: Un bysson contre nature Vit qui ardoit sans arsure. C'es tu, n'en suis point deceüs, Dex est li feus qu'en toy eüs; 140 Et tu, buisson des recreüz Es, pour tremper leur ardure. A ce veoir, vierge, veüs Soie par toy et receüs, Oste chaussement d'ordure. Noble princesse du monde Qui n'as ne per ne seconde En royaume n'en enpire, De toy vient, de toy redonde Tout le bien qui nous abonde, 150 N'avons autre tirelire. En toy tout povre homme espire Et de toy son salu tire, Et en toy seule se fonde. Ne puet nul penser ne dire, Nul pourtraire ne escrire Ta bonté comme est parfonde.
[267] 105 O verrey light of eyen that ben blinde, O verrey lust of labour and distresse, O tresorere of bountee to mankinde, Thee whom God chees to moder for humblesse! From his ancille he made thee maistresse 110 Of hevene and erthe, our bille up for to bede. This world awaiteth ever on thy goodnesse, For thou ne failest never wight at nede. Purpos I have sum tyme for tenquere, Wherfore and why the Holy Gost thee soughte, 115 Whan Gabrielles vois cam to thyn ere. He not to werre us swich a wonder wroughte, But for to save us that he sithen boughte. Than nedeth us no wepen us for to save, But only ther we did not, as us oughte, 120 Do penitence, and mercy axe and have. Queen of comfort, yit whan I me bithinke That I agilt have bothe, him and thee, And that my soule is worthy for to sinke, Allas, I, caitif, whider may I flee?	O Lumiere des non voians Et vrai repos des recreans Et de tout bien tresoriere, 160 A toy sont toutez gens beans Qui en la foy sont bien creans Et en toy ont foy entiere; A nul onques ne fus fiere, Ains toy deïs chamberiere Quant en toy vint li grans geans. Or es de Dieu chanceliere Et de graces aumosniere Et confort a tous recreans. Pris m'est volenté d'enquerre 170 Pour savoir que Diex vint querre Quant en toy se vint enserrer; En toy devint vers de terre; Ne cuit pas que fust pour guerre Ne pour moy jus aterrer. Vierge, se ne me sens errer, D'armes ne me faut point ferrer Fors sans plus de li requerre. Quant pour moy se vint enterrer, Se il ne se veut desterrer 180 Encor puis s'amour acquerre. Quant pourpensé après me sui Qu'ay offendu et toy et lui, Et qu'a mal est m'ame duite, Que, fors pechié, en moi n'estui,
[268] 125 Who shal un-to thy sone my mene be? Who, but thy-self, that art of pitee welle? Thou hast more reuthe on our adversitee Than in this world mighte any tunge telle. Redresse me, moder, and me chastyse, 130 For, certeynly, my fadres chastisinge That dar I nought abyden in no wyse: So hidous is his rightful rekeninge. Moder, of whom our mercy gan to springe, Beth ye my Iuge and eek my soules leche; 135 For ever in you is pitee haboundinge To ech that wol of pitee you biseche. Soth is, that God ne graunteth no pitee With-oute thee; for God, of his goodnesse, Foryiveth noon, but it lyke un-to thee. 140 He hath thee maked vicaire and maistresse	Et que mal hyer et pis m'est hui, Tost après si me ranvite, Vierge douce, se pren fuite, Se je fui a la poursuite, Ou fuiray, qu'a mon refui? 190 S'a nul bien je ne m'affruite Et mas sui avant que luite, Plus grief encore en est l'anuy. Reprens moy, mere, et chastie Quar mon pere n'ose mie Attendre a mon chastiement. Son chastoy si fiert a hie; Rien n'ataint que tout n'esmie Quant il veut prendre vengement. Mere, bien doi tel batement 200 Douter, quar en empirement A tous jours esté ma vie. A toy dont soit le jugement, Car de pitié as l'oingnement, Mès que merci l'en te prie. Sans toy nul bien ne foysonne Et sans toy Diex riens ne donne, Quar de tout t'a fet maistresse. Quant tu veus trestout pardonne;
[269] Of al the world, and eek governeresse Of hevene, and he represseth his Iustyse After thy wille, and therefore in witnesse He hath thee crouned in so ryal wyse. 145 Temple devout, ther god hath his woninge. Fro which these misbileved pryved been, To you my soule penitent I bringe. Receyve me! I can no ferther fleen! With thornes venimous, O hevene queen, 150 For which the erthe acursed was ful yore, I am so wounded, as ye may wel seen, That I am lost almost;—it smert so sore. Virgine, that art so noble of apparaile, And ledest us in-to the hye tour 155 Of Paradys, thou me wisse and counsaile, How I may have thy grace and thy socour; Al have I been in filthe and in errour. Lady, un-to that court thou me aiourne That cleped is thy bench, O fresshe flour! 160 Ther-as that mercy ever shal soiourne.	Et par toy est mise bonne 210 A justice la mairesse; N'est royne ne princesse Pour qui nul ainsi se cesse Et de droit se dessaisonne. Du monde es gouverneresse, Et du ciel ordeneresse; Sans reson n'as pas couronne. Temple saint ou Dieu habite Dont privé sont li herite Et a tous jours desherité, 220 A toy vieng, de toy me herite, Reçoif moy par ta merite Quar de toy n'ay point hesité. Et se je me sui herité Des espines d'iniquité Pour quoy terre fu maudite, Las m'en clain en verité, Car a ce fait m'a excité L'ame qui n'en est pas quite. Vierge de noble et haut atour, 230 Qui au chastel et a la tour De paradis nous atournes, Atourne moy ens et entour De tel atour que au retour De ta grace me retournes, Se vil sui, si me raournes. A toy vieng, ne te destournes, Quer au besoing es mon destour. Sequeur moy, point ne sejournes, Ou tu a la court m'ajournes, 240 Ou ta pitié fait son sejour.
[270] Xristus, thy sone, that in this world alighte, Up-on the cros to suffre his passioun, And eek, that Longius his herte pighte, And made his herte blood to renne adoun; 165 And al was this for my salvacioun; And I to him am fals and eek unkinde, And yit he wol not my dampnacioun— This thanke I you, socour of al mankinde. Ysaac was figure of his deeth, certeyn, 170 That so fer-forth his fader wolde obeye That him ne roughte no-thing to be slayn; Right so thy sone list, as a lamb, to deye. Now lady, ful of mercy, I you preye, Sith he his mercy mesured so large, 175 Be ye not skant; for alle we singe and seye That ye ben from vengeaunce ay our targe. Zacharie you clepeth the open welle To wasshe sinful soule out of his gilt. Therfore this lessoun oughte I wel to telle 180 That, nere thy tender herte, we weren spilt.	Xristus, ton filz, qui descendi En terre et en la crois pendi, Ot pour moy le costé fendu. Sa grant rigour il destendi Quant pour moy l'esperit rendi, Son corps pendant et estendu; Pour moy son sanc fu espandu. Se ceci j'ai bien entendu A mon salut bien entendi, 250 Et pour ce, se l'ay offendu Et il ne le m'a pas rendu, Merci t'en rens, graces l'en di. Ysaac le prefigura Qui de sa mort rien ne cura En obeïsant au pere. Comme .j. aignel tout endura; En endurant tout espura Par crueuse mort amere. O très douce vierge mere, 260 Par ce fait fai que se pere Par plour l'ame qui cuer dura; Fai que grace si m'apere; Et n'en soiez pas avere Quar largement la mesura. Zacharie de mon somme Me exite, et si me somme D'en toy ma merci atendre; Fontaine patent te nomme
[271] Now lady brighte, sith thou canst and wilt Ben to the seed of Adam merciable, So bring us to that palais that is bilt 184 To penitents that ben to mercy able. Amen.	Pour laver pecheür homme: 270 C'est leçon bonne a aprendre. Se tu donc as le cuer tendre Et m'offense n'est pas mendre De cil qui menga la pomme, Moy laver veillez entendre, Moy garder et moy deffendre, Que justice ne m'asomme.

		PAGE
General Introduction		vii
Life of Chaucer		ix
List of Chaucer's Works		lxii
Errata and Addenda		lxiv
Introduction to the Romaunt of the Rose.—§ 1. Why (the chief part of) the Romaunt of the Rose is not Chaucer's. § 2. The English Version of the Romaunt. § 3. Internal evidence. § 4. Dr. Lidner's opinion. § 5. Dr. Kaluza's opinion. The three Fragments. § 6. Discussion of Fragment B. Test. I.—Proportion of English to French. § 7. Test II.—Dialect. § 8. Test III.—The Riming of -y with -yë. § 9. Test IV.—Assonant Rimes. § 10. Result: Fragment B is not by Chaucer. § 11. Discussion of Fragment C. § 12. Rime-tests. § 13. Further considerations. § 14. Result: Fragment C is not by the author of Fragment B, and perhaps not by Chaucer. § 15. Discussion of Fragment A. (1) Rimes in -y. (2) Rimes in -yë § 16. No false rimes. § 17. The three Fragments seem to be all distinct. § 18. Fragment A is probably Chaucer's. § 19. Summary. § 20. Probability of the results. § 21. The external evidence. § 22. The Glasgow MS. § 23. Th.—Thynne's Edition; 1532. § 24. Reprints. § 25. The Present Edition. § 26. Some corrections. § 27. The French Text. §§ 28, 29. Brief Analysis of the French Poem: G. de Lorris. § 30. Jean de Meun; to the end of Fragment B. § 31. Gap in the Translation. § 32. Fragment C. § 33. Chaucer's use of 'Le Roman.' § 34. Méon's French text		1
Introduction to the Minor Poems.—§ 1. Principles of selection. § 2. Testimony of Chaucer regarding his Works. § 3. Lydgate's List. § 4. Testimony of Shirley. § 5. Testimony of Scribes. § 6. Testimony of Caxton. § 7. Early Editions of Chaucer. § 8. Contents of Stowe's Edition (1561): Part I.—Reprinted Matter. § 9. Part II.—Additions by Stowe. § 10. Part I. discussed. § 11. Part II. discussed. § 12. Poems added by Speght. [vi] § 13. Poems added by Morris. § 14. Description of the MSS. List of the MSS. § 15. Remarks on the MSS. at Oxford. § 16. MSS. at Cambridge. § 17. London MSS. § 18. I.—A. B. C. § 19. II.—The Compleynt unto Pitè. § 20. III.—The Book of the Duchesse. § 21. IV.—The Compleynt of Mars. § 22. V.—The Parlement of Foules. § 23. VI.—A Compleint to his Lady. § 24. VII.—Anelida and Arcite. § 25. VIII. Chaucers Wordes unto Adam. § 26. IX.—The Former Age. § 27. X.—Fortune. § 28. XI.—Merciless Beauty. § 29. XII.—To Rosemounde. § 30. XIII.—Truth. § 31. XIV.—Gentilesse. § 32. XV.—Lak of Stedfastnesse. § 33. XVI—Lenvoy to Scogan. § 34. XVII.—Lenvoy to Bukton. § 35. XVIII.—Compleynt of Venus. § 36. XIX.—The Compleint to his Purse. § 37. XX.—Proverbs. § 38. XXI.—Against Women Unconstaunt. § 39. XXII.—An Amorous Complaint. § 40. XXIII.—Balade of Compleynt. § 41. Concluding Remarks		20
The Romaunt of the Rose.
Fragment A. (with the French Text)		93
Fragment B. (containing Northern forms)		164
Fragment C.		229
The Minor Poems.
I.	An A. B. C. (with the French original)	261
II.	The Compleynte unto Pitè	272
III.	The Book of the Duchesse	277
IV.	The Compleynt of Mars	323
V.	The Parlement of Foules	335
VI.	A Compleint to his Lady	360
VII.	Anelida and Arcite	365
VIII.	Chaucers Wordes unto Adam	379
IX.	The Former Age	380
X.	Fortune	383
XI.	Merciles Beautè	387
XII.	Balade to Rosemounde	389
XIII.	Truth	390
XIV.	Gentilesse	392
XV.	Lak of Stedfastnesse	394
XVI.	Lenvoy to Scogan	396
XVII.	Lenvoy to Bukton	398
XVIII.	The Compleynt of Venus (with the French original)	400
XIX.	The Compleint of Chaucer to his empty Purse	405
XX.	Proverbs of Chaucer	407
XXI.	Appendix: Against Women Unconstaunt	409
XXII.	An Amorous Complaint	411
XXIII.	A Balade of Compleynt	415
Notes to the Romaunt of the Rose		417
Notes to the Minor Poems		452

I. (The Lover's worthiness.) Ther nis so hy comfort to my plesaunce, Whan that I am in any hevinesse, As for to have leyser of remembraunce Upon the manhod and the worthinesse, 5 Upon the trouthe, and on the stedfastnesse Of him whos I am al, whyl I may dure; Ther oghte blame me no creature, For every wight preiseth his gentilesse. In him is bountee, wisdom, governaunce 10 Wel more then any mannes wit can gesse; For grace hath wold so ferforth him avaunce That of knighthode he is parfit richesse.	I. Il n'est confort que tant de biens me face, Quant je ne puis a ma dame parler, Comme d'avoir temps, loisir et espace De longuement en sa valour penser, 5 Et [de] ses doulz fais femenins recorder Dedens mon cuer. C'est ma vie, par m'ame, Ne je ne truis nul homme qui me blasme, Car chascun a joye de li loer. Il a en li bonté, beauté et grace, 10 Plus que nulz homs ne saroit deviser. C'est grant ëur quant en si pou de place Dieux a voulu tous les biens assembler.
[401] Honour honoureth him for his noblesse; Therto so wel hath formed him Nature, 15 That I am his for ever, I him assure, For every wight preiseth his gentilesse. And not-withstanding al his suffisaunce, His gentil herte is of so greet humblesse To me in worde, in werke, in contenaunce, 20 And me to serve is al his besinesse, That I am set in verrey sikernesse. Thus oghte I blesse wel myn aventure, Sith that him list me serven and honoure; For every wight preiseth his gentilesse. II. (Disquietude caused by Jealousy.) 25 Now certes, Love, hit is right covenable That men ful dere bye thy noble thing, As wake a-bedde, and fasten at the table, Weping to laughe, and singe in compleyning,	Honneur la vuelt sur toutes honnorer. Oncques ne vi si [douce et] plaisant dame 15 De toutes gens avoir si noble femme; Car chascun a joye de li loer. Ou qu'elle soit, bien fait et mal efface. Moult bien li siet le rire et le jouer. Son cuer esbat et les autres soulace 20 Si liement qu'on ne l'en doit blasmer. De li veoir ne se puet nulz lasser. Son regart vault tous les biens d'un royaume. Il semble bien qu'elle est tres noble femme, Car chascun a joye de li loer. II. 25 Certes, Amours, c'est chose convenable Que voz grans biens [vous] faciez comparer: Veillier ou lit et jeuner a la table, Rire plourant et en plaignant chanter,
[402] And doun to caste visage and loking, 30 Often to chaungen hewe and contenaunce, Pleyne in sleping, and dremen at the daunce, Al the revers of any glad feling. Ialousye be hanged by a cable! She wolde al knowe through hir espying; 35 Ther doth no wight no-thing so resonable, That al nis harm in hir imagening. Thus dere abought is love in yeving, Which ofte he yiveth with-outen ordinaunce, As sorow ynogh, and litel of plesaunce, 40 Al the revers of any glad feling. A litel tyme his yift is agreable, But ful encomberous is the using; For sotel Ialousye, the deceyvable, Ful often-tyme causeth destourbing.	Baissier les yeux quant on doit regarder, 30 Souvent changier couleur et contenance, Plaindre en dormant et songier a la dance Tout a rebours de ce qu'on vuelt trouver. Jalousie, c'est l'amer du deable; Elle vuelt tout veoir et escouter, 35 Ne nulz ne fait chose si raisonnable Que tout a mal ne le vueille tourner. Amours, ainsi fault voz dons acheter, Et vous donnez souvent sanz ordonnance Assez douleur et petit de plaisance, 40 Tout a rebours de ce qu'on vuelt trouver. Pour un court temps le gieu est agreable; Mais trop par est encombreux a user. Et, ja soit il a dames honnorable, A leurs amis est trop grief a porter.
[403] 45 Thus be we ever in drede and suffering, In nouncerteyn we languisshe in penaunce, And han ful often many an hard meschaunce, Al the revers of any glad feling. III. (Satisfaction in Constancy.) But certes, Love, I sey nat in such wyse 50 That for tescape out of your lace I mente; For I so longe have been in your servyse That for to lete of wol I never assente; No force thogh Ialousye me tormente; Suffyceth me to see him whan I may, 55 And therfore certes, to myn ending-day To love him best ne shal I never repente. And certes, Love, whan I me wel avyse On any estat that man may represente, Than have ye maked me, through your franchyse, 60 Chese the best that ever on erthe wente.	45 Toudiz convient souffrir et endurer, Sans nul certain languir en esperance, Et recevoir mainte male meschance, Tout a rebours de ce qu'on vuelt trouver. III. Amours, sachiez que pas ne le vueil dire 50 Pour moy getter hors des amoureux las; Car j'ay porté si long temps mon martire Que mon vivant ne le guerpiray pas. Il me souffist d'avoir tant de soulas Que veoir puisse la [belle et] gracieuse; 55 Combien qu'el est [en]vers moy dangereuse, De li servir ne serai jamaiz las. Certes, Amours, quant bien droit [je] remire Les haulx estas, les moyens et les bas, Vous m'avez fait de tous les bons eslire, 60 A mon avis, le meilleur, en tous cas.
[404] Now love wel, herte, and look thou never stente; And let the Ielous putte hit in assay That, for no peyne wol I nat sey nay; To love him best ne shal I never repente. 65 Herte, to thee hit oghte y-nogh suffyse That Love so hy a grace to thee sente, To chese the worthiest in alle wyse And most agreable unto myn entente. Seche no ferther, neyther wey ne wente, 70 Sith I have suffisaunce unto my pay. Thus wol I ende this compleynt or lay; To love him best ne shal I never repente. Lenvoy. Princess, receyveth this compleynt in gree, Unto your excellent benignitee 75 Direct after my litel suffisaunce. For eld, that in my spirit dulleth me, Hath of endyting al the soteltee Wel ny bereft out of my remembraunce; And eek to me hit is a greet penaunce, 80 Sith rym in English hath swich scarsitee, To folowe word by word the curiositee Of Graunson, flour of hem that make in Fraunce.	Or aime, cuer, ainsy que tu pourras; Car ja n'aras paine si doulereuse, Pour ma dame, que ne me soit joieuse; De li servir ne seray jamaiz las. 65 Cuer, il te doit assez plus que souffire D'avoir choisy ce[lle] que choisi as. Ne quiers [or] plus royaume ne empire, Car si bonne jamaiz ne trouveras, Ne si belle par mes yeux ne verras: 70 C'est jeunesce sachant et savoureuse. Ja soit elle de m'amour desdaigneuse, De li servir ne seray jamaiz las.