(Skeat)
ALAS! Fortune! alas! I that som-tyme in delicious
houres was wont to enjoye blisful stoundes, am now drive by unhappy hevinesse
to bewaile my sondry yvels in tene!
Trewly, I leve, in myn herte is writte, of perdurable
letters, al the entencions of lamentacion that now ben y-nempned! For any
maner disese outward, in sobbing maner, sheweth sorowful yexinge from within.
Thus from my comfort I ginne to spille, sith she that shulde me solace
is fer fro my presence. Certes, her absence is to me an helle; my sterving
deth thus in wo it myneth, that endeles care is throughout myne herte clenched;
blisse of my joye, that ofte me murthed, is turned in-to galle, to thinke
on thing that may not, at my wil, in armes me hente! Mirth is chaunged
in-to tene, whan swink is there continually that reste was wont to sojourne
and have dwelling-place. Thus witless, thoughtful, sightles lokinge, I
endure my penaunce in this derke prison, *caitived fro frendshippe and
acquaintaunce, and forsaken of al that any *word dare speke. Straunge hath
by waye of intrucioun mad his home, there me shulde be, if reson were herd
as he shulde. Never-the-later yet hertly, lady precious Margarit, have
mynde on thy servaunt; and thinke on his disese, how lightles he liveth,
sithe the bemes brennende in love of thyn eyen are so bewent, that worldes
and cloudes atwene us twey wol nat suffre my thoughtes of hem to be enlumined!
Thinke that oon vertue of a Margarite precious is, amonges many other,
the sorouful to comforte; yet *whyles that, me sorouful to comforte, is
my lust to have nought els at this tyme, d[r]ede ne deth ne no maner traveyle
hath no power, myn herte so moche to fade, as shulde to here of a twinkling
in your disese! Ah! god forbede that; but yet let me deye, let me sterve
withouten any mesure of penaunce, rather than myn hertely thinking comfort
in ought were disesed! What may my service avayle, in absence of her that
my service shulde accepte? Is this nat endeles sorowe to thinke? Yes, yes,
god wot; myn herte breketh nigh a-sonder. How shulde the ground, without
kyndly noriture, bringen forth any frutes? How shulde a ship, withouten
a sterne, in the grete see be governed? How shulde I, withouten my blisse,
my herte, my desyre, my joye, my goodnesse, endure in this contrarious
prison, that thinke every hour in the day an hundred winter? Wel may now
Eve sayn to me, "Adam, in sorowe fallen from welth, driven art thou
out of paradise, with swete thy sustenaunce to beswinke!" Depe in
this pyninge pitte with wo I ligge y-stocked, with chaynes linked of care
and of tene. It is so hye from thens I lye and the commune erth, there
ne is cable in no lande maked, that might strecche to me, to drawe me in-to
blisse; ne steyers to steye on is none; so that, without recover, endeles
here to endure, I wot wel, I [am] purveyed. 0, where art thou now, frendship,
that som-tyme, with laughande chere, madest bothe face and countenaunce
to me-wardes? Truely, now art thou went out of towne. But ever, me thinketh,
he wereth his olde clothes, and that the soule in the whiche the lyfe of
frendship was in, is drawen out from his other spirites. Now than, farewel,
frendship! and farewel, felawes! Me thinketh, ye al han taken your leve;
no force of you al at ones. But, lady of love, ye wote what I mene; yet
thinke on thy servaunt that for thy love spilleth; al thinges have I forsake
to folowen thyn hestes; rewarde me with a thought, though ye do naught
els. Remembraunce of love lyth so sore under my brest, that other thought
cometh not in my mynde but gladnesse, to thinke on your goodnesse and your
mery chere; *ferdnes and sorowe, to thinke on your wreche and your daunger;
from whiche Christ me save! My greet joye it is to have in meditacion the
bountees, the vertues, the nobley in you printed; sorowe and helle comen
at ones, to suppose that I be *weyved. Thus with care, sorowe, and tene
am I shapt, myn ende with dethe to make. Now, good goodly, thinke on this.
O wrecched foole that I am, fallen in-to so lowe, the hete of my brenning
tene hath me al defased. How shulde ye, lady, sette prise on so foule fylthe?
My conninge is thinne, my wit is exiled; lyke to a foole naturel am I comparisoned.
Trewly, lady, but your mercy the more were, I wot wel al my labour were
in ydel; your mercy than passeth right. God graunt that proposicion to
be verifyed in me; so that, by truste of good hope, I mowe come to the
haven of ese. And sith it is impossible, the colours of your qualitees
to chaunge: and forsothe I wot wel, wem ne spot may not abyde there so
noble vertue haboundeth, so that the defasing to you is verily [un]imaginable,
as countenaunce of goodnesse with encresinge vertue is so in you knit,
to abyde by necessary maner: yet, if the revers mighte falle (which is
ayenst kynde), I *wot wel myn herte ne shulde therfore naught flitte, by
the leste poynt of gemetrye; so sadly is it *souded, that away from your
service in love may he not departe. O love, whan shal I ben plesed? O charitee,
whan shal I ben esed? O good goodly, whan shal the dyce turne? O ful of
vertue, do the chaunce of comfort upwarde to falle! O love, whan wolt thou
thinke on thy servaunt? I can no more but here, out-cast of al welfare,
abyde the day of my dethe, or els to see the sight that might al my wellinge
sorowes voyde, and of the flode make an ebbe. These diseses mowen wel,
by duresse of sorowe, make my lyfe to unbodye, and so for to dye; but certes
ye, lady, in a ful perfeccion of love ben so knit with my soule, that deth
may not thilke knotte unbynde ne departe; so that ye and my soule togider
*in endeles blisse shulde dwelle; and there shal my soule at the ful ben
esed, that he may have your presence, to shewe th'entent of his desyres.
Ah, dere god! that shal be a greet joye! Now, erthely goddesse, take regarde
of thy servant, though I be feble; for thou art wont to prayse them better
that wolde conne serve in love, al be he ful mener than kinges or princes
that wol not have that vertue in mynde.
Now, precious Margaryte, that with thy noble vertue
hast drawen me in-to love first, me weninge therof to have blisse, [ther]-as
galle and aloes are so moche spronge, that savour of swetnesse may I not
ataste. Alas! that your benigne eyen, in whiche that mercy semeth to have
al his noriture, nil by no waye tourne the clerenesse of mercy to me-wardes!
Alas! that your brennande vertues, shyning amonges al folk, and enlumininge
al other people by habundaunce of encresing, sheweth to me but smoke and
no light! These thinges to thinke in myn herte maketh every day weping
in myn eyen to renne. These liggen on my backe so sore, that importable
burthen me semeth on my backe to be charged; it maketh me backwarde to
meve, whan my steppes by comune course even-forth pretende. These thinges
also, on right syde and lift, have me so envolved with care, that wanhope
of helpe is throughout me ronne; trewly, *I leve, that graceles is my fortune,
whiche that ever sheweth it me-wardes by a cloudy disese, al redy to make
stormes of tene; and the blisful syde halt stil awayward, and wol it not
suffre to me-wardes to turne; no force, yet wol I not ben conquered.
0, alas! that your nobley, so moche among al other creatures
commended by *flowinge streme *of al maner vertues, but ther ben wonderful,
I not whiche that let the flood to come in-to my soule; wherefore, purely
mated with sorowe thorough-sought, my-selfe I crye on your goodnesse to
have pitè on this caytif, that in the in[ne]rest degree of sorowe
and disese is left, and, without your goodly wil, from any helpe and recovery.
These sorowes may I not sustene, but-if my sorowe shulde be told and to
you-wardes shewed; although moche space is bitwene us twayne, yet me thinketh
that by suche *joleyvinge wordes my disese ginneth ebbe. Trewly, me thinketh
that the sowne of my lamentacious weping is right now flowe in-to your
presence, and there cryeth after mercy and grace, to which thing (me semeth)
thee list non answere to yeve, but with a deynous chere ye commaunden it
to avoide; but god forbid that any word shuld of you springe, to have so
litel routh! Pardè, pitè and mercy in every Margarite is
closed by kynde amonges many other vertues, by qualitees of comfort; but
comfort is to me right naught worth, withouten mercy and pitè of
you alone; whiche thinges hastely god me graunt for his mercy!
REHERSINGE these thinges and many other, without tyme or moment of rest,
me semed, for anguisshe of disese, that al-togider I was ravisshed, I can
not telle how; but hoolly all my passions and felinges weren lost, as it
semed, for the tyme; and sodainly a maner of drede lighte in me al at ones;
nought suche fere as folk have of an enemy, that were mighty and wolde
hem greve or don hem disese. For, I trowe, this is wel knowe to many persones,
that otherwhyle, if a man be in his soveraignes presence, a maner of ferdnesse
crepeth in his herte, not for harme, but of goodly subjeccion; namely,
as men reden that aungels ben aferde of our saviour in heven. And pardè,
there ne is, ne may no passion of disese be; but it is to mene, that angels
ben adradde, not by *ferdnes of drede, sithen they ben perfitly blissed,
[but] as [by] affeccion of wonderfulnesse and by service of obedience.
Suche ferde also han these lovers in presence of their loves, and subjectes
aforn their soveraynes. Right so with ferdnesse myn herte was caught. And
I sodainly astonied, there entred in-to the place there I was logged a
lady, the semeliest and most goodly to my sight that ever to-forn apered
to any creature; and trewly, in the blustringe of her looke, she yave gladnesse
and comfort sodaynly to al my wittes; and right so she doth to every wight
that cometh in her presence. And for she was so goodly, as me thought,
myn herte began somdele to be enbolded, and wexte a litel hardy to speke;
but yet, with a quakinge voyce, as I durste, I salued her, and enquired
what she was; and why she, so worthy to sight, dayned to entre in-to so
foule a dongeon, and namely a prison, without leve of my kepers. For certes,
al-though the vertue of dedes of mercy strecchen to visiten the poore prisoners,
and hem, after that facultees ben had, to comforte, me semed that I was
so fer fallen in-to miserye and wrecched hid caytifnesse, that me shulde
no precious thing neighe; and also, that for my sorowe every wight shulde
ben hevy, and wisshe my recovery. But whan this lady had somdele apperceyved,
as wel by my wordes as by my chere, what thought besied me within, with
a good womanly countenance she sayde these wordes:--
"O my nory, wenest thou that my maner be, to foryete
my frendes or my servauntes? Nay, quod she, "it is my ful entente
to visyte and comforte al my frendshippes and allyes, as wel in tyme of
perturbacion as of moost propertee of blisse; in me shal unkyndnesse never
be founden: and also, sithen I have so fewe especial trewe now in these
dayes. Wherefore I may wel at more leysar come to hem that me deserven;
and if my cominge may in any thinge avayle, wete wel, I wol come often."
"Now, good lady," quod I, "that art so
fayre on to loke, reyninge hony by thy wordes, blisse of paradys arn thy
lokinges, joye and comfort are thy movinges. What is thy name? How is it
that in you is so mokel werkinge vertues enpight, as me semeth, and in
none other creature that ever saw I with myne eyen?"
"My disciple," quod she, "me wondreth
of thy wordes and on thee, that for a litel disese hast foryeten my name.
Wost thou not wel that I am LOVE, that first thee brought to thy service?"
"O good lady," quod I, "is this worship
to thee or to thyn excellence, for to come in-to so foule a place? Pardè,
somtyme, tho I was in prosperitè and with forayne goodes envolved,
I had mokil to done to drawe thee to myn hostel; and yet many werninges
thou madest er thou liste fully to graunte, thyn home to make at my dwelling-place;
and now thou comest goodly by thyn owne vyse, to comforte me with wordes;
and so therethorough I ginne remembre on passed gladnesse. Trewly, lady,
I ne wot whether I shal say welcome or non, sithen thy coming wol as moche
do me tene and sorowe, as gladnesse and mirthe. See why: for that me comforteth
to thinke on passed gladnesse, that me anoyeth efte to be in doinge. Thus
thy cominge bothe gladdeth and teneth, and that is cause of moche sorowe.
Lo, lady how than I am comforted by your comminge"; and with that
I gan in teeres to distille, and tenderly wepe.
"Now, certes," quod Love, "I see wel,
and that me over-thinketh, that wit in thee fayleth, and [thou] art in
pointe to dote."
"Trewly," quod I, "that have ye maked,
and that ever wol I rue."
"Wottest thou not wel," quod she, "that
every shepherde ought by reson to seke his sperkelande sheep, that arn
ronne in-to wildernesse among busshes and perils, and hem to their pasture
ayen-bringe, and take on hem privy besy cure of keping? And though the
unconninge sheep scattred wolde ben lost, renning to wildernesse, and to
desertes drawe, or els wolden putte hem-selfe to the swalowinge wolfe,
yet shal the shepherde, by businesse and travayle, so putte him forth,
that he shal not lete hem be lost by no waye. A good shepherde putteth
rather his lyf to ben lost for his sheep. But for thou shalt not wene me
being of werse condicion, trewly, for everich of my folke, and for al tho
that to me-ward be knit in any condicion, I wol rather dye than suffre
hem through errour to ben spilte. For me liste, and it me lyketh, of al
myne a shepherdesse to be cleped. Wost thou not wel, I fayled never wight,
but he me refused and wolde negligently go with unkyndenesse? And yet,
pardè, have I many such holpe and releved, and they have ofte me
begyled; but ever, at the ende, it discendeth in their owne nekkes. Hast
thou not rad how kinde I was to Paris, Priamus sone of Troy? How Jason
me falsed, for al his false behest? How Cesars *swink, I lefte it for no
tene til he was troned in my blisse for his service? What!" quod she,
"most of al, maked I not a loveday bytwene god and mankynde, and chees
a mayde to be nompere, to putte the quarel at ende? Lo! how I have travayled
to have thank on al sydes, and yet list me not to reste, and I might fynde
on *whom I shulde werche. But trewly, myn owne disciple, bycause I have
thee founde, at al assayes, in thy wil to be redy myn hestes to have folowed
and hast ben trewe to that Margarite-perle that ones I thee shewed; and
she alwaye, ayenward, hath mad but daungerous chere; I am come, in propre
person, to putte thee out of errours, and make thee gladde by wayes of
reson; so that sorow ne disese shal no more hereafter thee amaistry. Wherthrough
I hope thou shalt lightly come to the grace, that thou longe hast desyred,
of thilke jewel. Hast thou not herd many ensamples, how I have comforted
and releved the scholers of my lore? Who hath worthyed kinges in the felde?
Who hath honoured ladyes in boure by a perpetuel mirrour of their tr[o]uthe
in my service? Who hath caused worthy folk to voyde vyce and shame? Who
hath holde cytees and realmes in prosperitè? If thee liste clepe
ayen thyn olde remembraunce, thou coudest every point of this declare in
especial; and say that I, thy maistresse, have be cause, causing these
thinges and many mo other."
"Now, y-wis, madame," quod I, "al these
thinges I knowe wel my-selfe, and that thyn excellence passeth the understanding
of us beestes; and that no mannes wit erthely may comprehende thy vertues."
"Wel than," quod she, "for I see thee
in disese and sorowe, I wot wel thou art oon of my nories; I may not suffre
thee so to make sorowe, thyn owne selfe to shende. But I my-selfe come
to be thy fere, thyn hevy charge to make to seme the lesse. For wo is him
that is alone; and to the sorye, to ben moned by a sorouful wight, it is
greet gladnesse. Right so, with my sicke frendes I am sicke; and with sorie
I can not els but sorowe make, til whan I have hem releved in suche wyse,
that gladnesse, in a maner of counterpaysing, shal restore as mokil in
joye as the passed hevinesse biforn did in tene. And also," quod she,
"whan any of my servauntes ben alone in solitary place, I have yet
ever besied me to be with hem, in comfort of their hertes, and taught hem
to make songes of playnte and of blisse, and to endyten letters of rethorike
in queynt understondinges, and to bethinke hem in what wyse they might
best their ladies in good service plese; and also to lerne maner in countenaunce,
in wordes, and in bering, and to ben meke and lowly to every wight, his
name and fame to encrese; and to yeve gret yeftes and large, that his renomè
may springen. But thee therof have I excused; for thy losse and thy grete
costages, wherthrough thou art nedy, arn nothing to me unknowen; but I
hope to god somtyme it shal ben amended, as thus I sayd. In norture have
I taught al myne; and in curtesye made hem expert, their ladies hertes
to winne; and if any wolde [b]en deynous or proude, or be envious or of
wrecches acqueyntaunce, hasteliche have I suche voyded out of my scole.
For al vyces trewly I hate; vertues and worthinesse in al my power I avaunce."
"Ah! worthy creature," quod I, "and by
juste cause the name of goddesse dignely ye mowe bere! In thee lyth the
grace thorough whiche any creature in this worlde hath any goodnesse. Trewly,
al maner of blisse and preciousnesse in vertue out of thee springen and
wellen, as brokes and rivers proceden from their springes. And lyke as
al waters by kynde drawen to the see, so al kyndely thinges thresten, by
ful appetyte of desyre, to drawe after thy steppes, and to thy presence
aproche as to their kyndely perfeccion. How dare than beestes in this worlde
aught forfete ayenst thy devyne purveyaunce? Also, lady, ye knowen al the
privy thoughtes; in hertes no counsayl may ben hid from your knowing. Wherfore
I wot wel, lady, that ye knowe your-selfe that I in my conscience am and
have ben willinge to your service, al coude I never do as I shulde; yet,
forsothe, fayned I never to love otherwyse than was in myn herte; and if
I coude have made chere to one and y-thought another, as many other doon
alday afore myn eyen, I trowe it wolde not me have vayled."
"Certes," quod she, "haddest thou so
don, I wolde not now have thee here visited."
"Ye wete wel, lady, eke," quod I, "that
I have not played raket, `nettil in, docke out,' and with the wethercocke
waved; and trewly, there ye me sette, by acorde of my conscience I wolde
not flye, til ye and reson, by apert strength, maden myn herte to tourne."
"In good fayth," quod she, "I have knowe
thee ever of tho condicions; and sithen thou woldest (in as moch as in
thee was) a made me privy of thy counsayl and juge of thy conscience (though
I forsook it in tho dayes til I saw better my tyme), wolde never god that
I shuld now fayle; but ever I wol be redy witnessing thy sothe, in what
place that ever I shal, ayenst al tho that wol the contrary susteyne. And
for as moche as to me is naught unknowen ne hid of thy privy herte, but
al hast thou tho thinges mad to me open at the ful, that hath caused my
cominge in-to this prison, to voyde the webbes of thyne eyen, to make thee
clerely to see the errours thou hast ben in. And bycause that men ben of
dyvers condicions some adradde to saye a sothe, and some for a sothe anon
redy to fighte, and also that I may not myselfe ben in place to withsaye
thilke men that of thee speken otherwyse than the sothe, I wol and I charge
thee, in vertue of obedience that thou to me owest, to wryten my wordes
and sette hem in wrytinges, that they mowe, as my witnessinge, ben noted
among the people. For bookes written neyther dreden ne shamen, ne stryve
conne; but only shewen the entente of the wryter, and yeve remembraunce
to the herer; and if any wol in thy presence saye any-thing to tho wryters,
loke boldely; truste on Mars to answere at the ful. For certes, I shal
him enfourme of al the trouthe in thy love, with thy conscience; so that
of his helpe thou shalt not varye at thy nede. I trowe the strongest and
the beste that may be founde wol not transverse thy wordes; wherof than
woldest thou drede?"
GRETLY was I tho gladded of these wordes, and (as who saith) wexen somdel
light in herte; both for the auctoritè of witnesse, and also for
sikernesse of helpe of the forsayd beheste, and sayd:--
"Trewly, lady, now am I wel gladded through comfort
of your wordes. Be it now lykinge unto your nobley to shewe whiche folk
diffame your servauntes, sithe your service ought above al other thinges
to ben commended."
"Yet," quod she, "I see wel thy soule
is not al out of the amased cloude. Thee were better to here thing that
thee might lighte out of thyn hevy charge and after knowing of thyn owne
helpe, than to stirre swete wordes and such resons to here; for in a thoughtful
soule (and namely suche oon as thou art) wol not yet suche thinges sinken.
Come of, therfore, and let me seen thy hevy charge, that I may the lightlier
for thy comfort purveye."
"Now, certes, lady," quod I, "the moste
comfort I might have were utterly to wete me be sure in herte of that Margaryte
I serve; and so I thinke to don with al mightes, whyle my lyfe dureth."
"Than," quod she, "mayst thou therafter,
in suche wyse that misplesaunce ne entre?"
"In good fayth," quod I, "there shal
no misplesaunce be caused through trespace on my syde."
"And I do thee to weten," quod she, "I
sette never yet person to serve in no place (but-if he caused the contrary
in defautes and trespaces) that he ne spedde of his service."
"Myn owne erthly lady," quod I tho, "and
yet remembre to your worthinesse how long sithen, by many revolving of
yeres, in tyme whan Octobre his leve ginneth take and Novembre sheweth
him to sight, whan bernes ben ful of goodes as is the nutte on every halke;
and than good lond-tillers ginne shape for the erthe with greet travayle,
to bringe forth more corn to mannes sustenaunce, ayenst the nexte yeres
folowing. In suche tyme of plentee he that hath an home and is wyse, list
not to wander mervayles to seche, but he be constrayned or excited. Oft
the lothe thing is doon, by excitacion of other mannes opinion, whiche
wolden fayne have myn abydinge. [Tho gan I] take in herte of luste to travayle
and see the wynding of the erthe in that tyme of winter. By woodes that
large stretes wern in, by smale pathes that swyn and hogges hadden made,
as lanes with ladels their maste to seche, I walked thinkinge alone a wonder
greet whyle; and the grete beestes that the woode haunten and adorneth
al maner forestes, and heerdes gonne to wilde. Than, er I was war, I neyghed
to a see-banke; and for ferde of the beestes `shipcraft' I cryde. For,
lady, I trowe ye wete wel your-selfe, nothing is werse than the beestes
that shulden ben tame, if they cacche her wildenesse, and ginne ayen waxe
ramage. Thus forsothe was I a-ferd, and to shippe me hyed.
Than were there y-nowe to lacche myn handes, and drawe
me to shippe, of whiche many I knew wel the names. Sight was the first,
Lust was another, Thought was the thirde; and Wil eke was there a mayster;
these broughten me within-borde of this shippe of Traveyle. So whan the
sayl was sprad, and this ship gan to move, the wind and water gan for to
ryse, and overthwartly to turne the welken. The wawes semeden as they kiste
togider; but often under colour of kissinge is mokel old hate prively closed
and kept. The storm so straungely and in a devouring maner gan so faste
us assayle, that I supposed the date of my deth shulde have mad there his
ginning. Now up, now downe, now under the wawe and now aboven was my ship
a greet whyle. And so by mokel duresse of *weders and of stormes, and with
greet avowing [of] pilgrimages, I was driven to an yle, where utterly I
wende first to have be rescowed; but trewly, *at the first ginning, it
semed me so perillous the haven to cacche, that but thorow grace I had
ben comforted, of lyfe I was ful dispayred. Trewly, lady, if ye remembre
a-right of al maner thinges, your-selfe cam hastely to sene us see-driven,
and to weten what we weren. But first ye were deynous of chere, after whiche
ye gonne better a-lighte; and ever, as me thought, ye lived in greet drede
of disese; it semed so by your chere. And whan I was certifyed of your
name, the lenger I loked in you, the more I you goodly dradde; and ever
myn herte on you opened the more; and so in a litel tyme my ship was out
of mynde. But, lady, as ye me ladde, I was war bothe of beestes and of
fisshes, a greet nombre thronging togider; among whiche a muskel, in a
blewe shel, had enclosed a Margaryte-perle, the moste precious and best
that ever to-forn cam in my sight. And ye tolden your-selfe, that ilke
jewel in his kinde was so good and so vertuous, that her better shulde
I never finde, al sought I ther-after to the worldes ende. And with that
I held my pees a greet whyle; and ever sithen I have me bethought on the
man that sought the precious Margarytes; and whan he had founden oon to
his lyking, he solde al his good to bye that jewel. Y-wis, thought I, (and
yet so I thinke), now have I founden the jewel that myn herte desyreth;
wherto shulde I seche further. Trewly, now wol I stinte, and on this Margaryte
I sette me for ever: now than also, sithen I wiste wel it was your wil
that I shulde so suche a service me take; and so to desyre that thing,
of whiche I never have blisse. There liveth non but he hath disese; your
might than that brought me to suche service, that to me is cause of sorowe
and of joye. I wonder of your worde that ye sayn, `to bringen men in-to
joye'; and, pardè, ye wete wel that defaut ne trespace may not resonably
ben put to me-wardes, as fer as my conscience knoweth.
But of my disese me list now a whyle to speke, and to
enforme you in what maner of blisse ye have me thronge. For truly I wene,
that al gladnesse, al joye, and al mirthe is beshet under locke, and the
keye throwe in suche place that it may not be founde. My brenning wo hath
altred al my hewe. Whan I shulde slepe, I walowe and I thinke, and me disporte.
Thus combred, I seme that al folk had me mased. Also, lady myne, desyre
hath longe dured, some speking to have; or els at the lest have ben enmoysed
with sight; and for wantinge of these thinges my mouth wolde, and he durst,
pleyne right sore, sithen yvels for my goodnesse arn manyfolde to me yolden.
I wonder, lady, trewly, save evermore your reverence, how ye mowe, for
shame, suche thinges suffre on your servaunt to be so multiplied. Wherfore,
kneling with a lowe herte, I pray you to rue on this caytif, that of nothing
now may serve. Good lady, if ye liste, now your help to me shewe, that
am of your privyest servantes at al assayes in this tyme, and under your
winges of proteccion. No help to me-wardes is shapen; how shal than straungers
in any wyse after socour loke, whan I, that am so privy, yet of helpe I
do fayle? Further may I not, but thus in this prison abyde; what bondes
and chaynes me holden, lady, ye see wel your-selfe. A renyant forjuged
hath not halfe the care. But thus, syghing and sobbing, I wayle here alone;
and nere it for comfort of your presence, right here wolde I sterve. And
yet a litel am I gladded, that so goodly suche grace and non hap have I
hent, graciously to fynde the precious Margarite, that (al other left)
men shulde bye, if they shulde therfore selle al her substaunce. Wo is
me, that so many let-games and purpose-brekers ben maked wayters, suche
prisoners as I am to overloke and to hinder; and, for suche lettours, it
is hard any suche jewel to winne. Is this, lady, an honour to thy deitee?
Me thinketh, by right, suche people shulde have no maistrye, ne ben overlokers
over none of thy servauntes. Trewly, were it leful unto you, to al the
goddes wolde I playne, that ye rule your devyne purveyaunce amonges your
servantes nothing as ye shulde. Also, lady, my moeble is insuffysaunt to
countervayle the price of this jewel, or els to make th'eschange. Eke no
wight is worthy suche perles to were but kinges or princes or els their
peres. This jewel, for vertue, wold adorne and make fayre al a realme;
the nobley of vertue is so moche, that her goodnesse overal is commended.
Who is it that wolde not wayle, but he might suche richesse have at his
wil? The vertue therof out of this prison may me deliver, and naught els.
And if I be not ther-thorow holpen, I see my-selfe withouten recovery.
Although I might hence voyde, yet wolde I not; I wolde abyde the day that
destenee hath me ordeyned, whiche I suppose is without amendement; so sore
is my herte bounden, that I may thinken non other. Thus strayte, lady,
hath sir Daunger laced me in stockes, I leve it be not your wil; and for
I see you taken so litel hede, as me thinketh, and wol not maken by your
might the vertue in mercy of the Margaryte on me for to strecche, so as
ye mowe wel in case that you liste, my blisse and my mirthe arn feld; sicknesse
and sorowe ben alwaye redy. The cope of tene is wounde aboute al my body,
that stonding is me best; unneth may I ligge for pure misesy sorowe. And
yet al this is litel ynough to be the ernest-silver in forwarde of this
bargayne; for treble-folde so mokel muste I suffer er tyme come of myn
ese. For he is worthy no welthe, that may no wo suffer. And certes, I am
hevy to thinke on these thinges; but who shal yeve me water ynough to drinke,
lest myn eyen drye, for renning stremes of teres? Who shal waylen with
me myn owne happy hevinesse? Who shal counsaile me now in my lyking tene,
and in my goodly harse? I not. For ever the more I brenne, the more I coveyte;
the more that I sorow, the more thrist I in gladnesse. Who shal than yeve
me a contrarious drink, to stanche the thurste of my blisful bitternesse?
Lo, thus I brenne and I drenche; I shiver and I swete. To this reversed
yvel was never yet ordeyned salve; forsoth al *leches ben unconning, save
the Margaryte alone, any suche remedye to purveye."
AND with these wordes I brast out to wepe, that every teere of myne
eyen, for greetnesse semed they boren out the bal of my sight, and that
al the water had ben out-ronne. Than thought me that Love gan a litel to
hevye for miscomfort of my chere; and gan soberly and in esy maner speke,
wel avysinge what she sayd. Comenly the wyse speken esily and softe for
many skilles. Oon is, their wordes are the better bileved; and also, in
esy spekinge, avysement men may cacche, what to putte forth and what to
holden in. And also, the auctoritè of esy wordes is the more; and
eke, they yeven the more understandinge to other intencion of the mater.
Right so this lady esely and in a softe maner gan say these wordes.
"Mervayle," quod she, "greet it is, that
by no maner of semblaunt, as fer as I can espye, thou list not to have
any recour; but ever thou playnest and sorowest, and wayes of remedye,
for folisshe wilfulnesse, thee list not to seche. But enquyre of thy next
frendes, that is, thyne inwit and me that have ben thy maystresse, and
the recour and fyne of thy disese; [f]or of disese is gladnesse and joy,
with a ful *vessel so helded, that it quencheth the felinge of the firste
tenes. But thou that were wont not only these thinges remembre in thyne
herte, but also fooles therof to enfourmen, in adnullinge of their errours
and distroying of their derke opinions, and in comfort of their sere thoughtes;
now canst thou not ben comfort of thyn owne soule, in thinking of these
thinges. O where hast thou be so longe commensal, that hast so mikel eeten
of the potages of foryetfulnesse, and dronken so of ignorance, that the
olde souking[es] whiche thou haddest of me arn amaystred and lorn fro al
maner of knowing? 0, this is a worthy person to helpe other, that can not
counsayle him-selfe!" And with these wordes, for pure and stronge
shame, I wox al reed.
And she than, seing me so astonyed by dyvers stoundes,
sodainly (which thing kynde hateth) gan deliciously me comforte with sugred
wordes, putting me in ful hope that I shulde the Margarite getten, if I
folowed her hestes; and gan with a fayre clothe to wypen the teres that
hingen on my chekes; and than sayd I in this wyse.
"Now, wel of wysdom and of al welthe, withouten
thee may nothing ben lerned; thou berest the keyes of al privy thinges.
In vayne travayle men to cacche any stedship, but-if ye, lady, first the
locke unshet. Ye, lady, lerne us the wayes and the by-pathes to heven.
Ye, lady, maken al the hevenly bodyes goodly and benignely to don her cours,
that governen us beestes here on erthe. Ye armen your servauntes ayenst
al debates with imperciable harneys; ye setten in her hertes insuperable
blood of hardinesse; ye leden hem to the parfit good. Yet al thing desyreth
ye werne no man of helpe, that *wol don your lore. Graunt me now a litel
of your grace, al my sorowes to cese."
"Myne owne servaunt," quod she, "trewly
thou sittest nye myne herte; and thy badde chere gan sorily me greve. But
amonge thy playning wordes, me thought, thou allegest thinges to be letting
of thyne helpinge and thy grace to hinder; wherthrough, me thinketh, that
wanhope is crope thorough thyn hert. God forbid that nyse unthrifty thought
shulde come in thy mynde, thy wittes to trouble; sithen every thing in
coming is contingent. Wherfore make no more thy proposicion by an impossible.
But now, I praye thee reherse me ayen tho thinges that thy mistrust causen;
and thilke thinges I thinke by reson to distroyen, and putte ful hope in
thyn herte. What understondest thou there," quod she, "by that
thou saydest, `many let-games are thyn overlokers?' And also by `that thy
moeble is insuffysaunt'? I not what thou therof menest."
"Trewly," quod I, "by the first I say,
that janglers evermore arn spekinge rather of yvel than of good; for every
age of man rather enclyneth to wickednesse, than any goodnesse to avaunce.
Also false wordes springen so wyde, by the stering of false lying tonges,
that fame als swiftely flyeth to her eres and sayth many wicked tales;
and as soone shal falsenesse ben leved as tr[o]uthe, for al his gret sothnesse.
Now by that other," quod I, "me thinketh thilke
jewel so precious, that to no suche wrecche as I am wolde vertue therof
extende; and also I am to feble in worldly joyes, any suche jewel to countrevayle.
For suche people that worldly joyes han at her wil ben sette at the highest
degree, and most in reverence ben accepted. For false wening maketh felicitè
therin to be supposed; but suche caytives as I am evermore ben hindred."
"Certes," quod she, "take good hede,
and I shal by reson to thee shewen, that al these thinges mowe nat lette
thy purpos by the leest point that any wight coude pricke.
REMEMBREST nat," quod she, "ensample is oon of the strongest
maner[es], as for to preve a mannes purpos? Than if I now, by ensample,
enduce thee to any proposicion, is it nat preved by strength?"
"Yes, forsothe," quod I.
"Wel," quod she, "raddest thou never
how Paris of Troye and Heleyne loved togider, and yet had they not entrecomuned
of speche? Also Acrisius shette Dane his doughter in a tour, for suertee
that no wight shulde of her have no maistry in my service; and yet Jupiter
by signes, without any speche, had al his purpose ayenst her fathers wil.
And many suche mo have ben knitte in trouthe, and yet spake they never
togider; for that is a thing enclosed under secretnesse of privytè,
why twey persons entremellen hertes after a sight. The power in knowing,
of such thinges *to preven, shal nat al utterly be yeven to you beestes;
for many thinges, in suche precious maters, ben reserved to jugement of
devyne purveyaunce; for among lyving people, by mannes consideracion, moun
they nat be determined. Wherfore I saye, al the envy, al the janglinge,
that wel ny [al] people upon my servauntes maken *ofte, is rather cause
of esployte than of any hindringe."
"Why, than," quod I, "suffre ye such
wrong; and moun, whan ye list, lightly al such yvels abate? Me semeth,
to you it is a greet unworship."
"0," quod she, "hold now thy pees. I
have founden to many that han ben to me unkynde, that trewly I wol suffre
every wight in that wyse to have disese; and who that continueth to the
ende wel and trewly, hem wol I helpen, and as for oon of myne in-to blisse
[don] to wende. As [in] marcial doing in Grece, who was y-crowned? By god,
nat the strongest; but he that rathest com and lengest abood and continued
in the journey, and spared nat to traveyle as long as the play leste. But
thilke person, that profred him now to my service, [and] therin is a while,
and anon voideth and [is] redy to another; and so now oon he thinketh and
now another; and in-to water entreth and anon respireth: such oon list
me nat in-to perfit blisse of my service bringe. A tree ofte set in dyvers
places wol nat by kynde endure to bringe forth frutes. Loke now, I pray
thee, how myne olde servauntes of tyme passed continued in her service,
and folowe thou after their steppes; and than might thou not fayle, in
case thou worche in this wyse."
"Certes," quod I, "it is nothing lich,
this world, to tyme passed; eke this countrè hath oon maner, and
another countrè hath another. And so may nat a man alway putte to
his eye the salve that he heled with his hele. For this is sothe: betwixe
two thinges liche, ofte dyversitè is required."
"Now," quod she, "that is sothe; dyversitè
of nation, dyversitè of lawe, as was maked by many resons; for that
dyversitè cometh in by the contrarious malice of wicked people,
that han envyous hertes ayenst other. But trewly, my lawe to my servauntes
ever hath ben in general, whiche may nat fayle. For right as mannes *lawe
that is ordained by many determinacions, may nat be knowe for good or badde,
til assay of the people han proved it and [founden] to what ende it draweth;
and than it sheweth the necessitè therof, or els the impossibilitè:
right so the lawe of my servauntes so wel hath ben proved in general, that
hitherto hath it not fayled.
Wiste thou not wel that al the lawe of kynde is my lawe,
and by god ordayned and stablisshed to dure by kynde resoun? Wherfore al
lawe by mannes witte purveyed ought to be underput to lawe of kynde, whiche
yet hath be commune to every kyndely creature; that my statutes and my
lawe that ben kyndely arn general to al peoples. Olde doinges and by many
turninges of yeres used, and with the peoples maner proved, mowen nat so
lightly ben defased; but newe doinges, contrariauntes suche olde, ofte
causen diseses and breken many purposes. Yet saye I nat therfore that ayen
newe mischeef men shulde nat ordaynen a newe remedye; but alwaye looke
it contrary not the olde no ferther than the malice streccheth. Than foloweth
it, the olde doinges in love han ben universal, as for most exployte[s]
forth used; wherfore I wol not yet that of my lawes nothing be adnulled.
But thanne to thy purpos: suche jangelers and lokers, and wayters of games,
if thee thinke in aught they mowe dere, yet love wel alwaye, and sette
hem at naught; and let thy port ben lowe in every wightes presence, and
redy in thyne herte to maynteyne that thou hast begonne; and a litel thee
fayne with mekenesse in wordes; and thus with sleyght shalt thou surmount
and dequace the yvel in their hertes. And wysdom yet is to seme flye otherwhyle,
there a man wol fighte. Thus with suche thinges the tonges of yvel shal
ben stilled; els fully to graunte thy ful meninge, for-sothe ever was and
ever it shal be, that myn enemyes ben aferde to truste to any fightinge.
And therfore have thou no cowardes herte in my service, no more than somtyme
thou haddest in the contrarye. For if thou drede suche jangleres, thy viage
to make, understand wel, that he that dredeth any rayn, to sowe his cornes,
he shal have than [bare] bernes. Also he that is aferd of his clothes,
let him daunce naked! Who nothing undertaketh, and namely in my service,
nothing acheveth. After grete stormes the *weder is often mery and smothe.
After moche clatering, there is mokil rowning. Thus, after jangling wordes,
cometh `huissht! pees! and be stille!'"
"O good lady!" quod I than, "see now
how, seven yere passed and more, have I graffed and *grobbed a vyne; and
with al the wayes that I coude I sought to a fed me of the grape; but frute
have I non founde. Also I have this seven yere served Laban, to a wedded
Rachel his doughter; but blere-eyed Lya is brought to my bedde, which alway
engendreth my tene, and is ful of children in tribulacion and in care.
And although the clippinges and kissinges of Rachel shulde seme to me swete,
yet is she so barayne that gladnesse ne joye by no way wol springe; so
that I may wepe with Rachel. I may not ben counsayled with solace, sithen
issue of myn hertely desyre is fayled. Now than I pray that to me [come]
sone fredom and grace in this eight[eth] yere; this eighteth mowe to me
bothe be kinrest and masseday, after the seven werkedays of travayle, to
folowe the Christen lawe; and, what ever ye do els, that thilke Margaryte
be holden so, lady, in your privy chambre, that she in this case to none
other person be committed."
"Loke than," quod she, "thou persever
in my service, in whiche I have thee grounded; that thilke scorn in thyn
enemyes mowe this on thy person be not sothed: `lo! this man began to edefye,
but, for his foundement is bad, to the ende may he it not bringe.' For
mekenesse in countenaunce, with a manly hert in dedes and in longe continuaunce,
is the conisance of my livery to al my retinue delivered. What wenest thou,
that me list avaunce suche persons as loven the first sittinges at feestes,
the highest stoles in churches and in hal, loutinges of peoples in markettes
and fayres; unstedfaste to byde in one place any whyle togider; wening
his owne wit more excellent than other; scorning al maner devyse but his
own? Nay, nay, god wot, these shul nothing parten of my blisse. Truly,
my maner here-toforn hath ben [to] worship[pe] with my blisse lyons in
the felde and lambes in chambre; egles at assaute and maydens in halle;
foxes in counsayle, stil[le] in their dedes; and their proteccioun is graunted,
redy to ben a bridge; and their baner is arered, like wolves in the felde.
Thus, by these wayes, shul men ben avaunced; ensample of David, that from
keping of shepe was drawen up in-to the order of kingly governaunce; and
Jupiter, from a bole, to ben Europes fere; and Julius Cesar, from the lowest
degrè in Rome, to be mayster of al erthly princes; and Eneas from
hel, to be king of the countrè there Rome is now stonding. And so
to thee I say; thy grace, by bering ther-after, may sette thee in suche
plight, that no jangling may greve the leest tucke of thy hemmes; that
[suche] are their *jangles, is nought to counte at a cresse in thy disavauntage.
EVER," quod she, "hath the people in this worlde desyred to
have had greet name in worthinesse, and hated foule to bere any [en]fame;
and that is oon of the objeccions thou alegest to be ayen thyne hertely
desyre."
"Ye, forsothe," quod I; "and that, so
comenly, the people wol lye, and bringe aboute suche enfame."
"Now," quod she, "if men with lesinges
putte on thee enfame, wenest thy-selfe therby ben enpeyred? That wening
is wrong; see why; for as moche as they lyen, thy meryte encreseth, and
make[th] thee ben more worthy, to hem that knowen of the soth; by what
thing thou art apeyred, that in so mokil thou art encresed of thy beloved
frendes. And sothly, a wounde of thy frende [is] to thee lasse harm, ye,
sir, and better than a fals kissing in disceyvable glosing of thyne enemy;
above that than, to be wel with thy frende maketh [voyd] suche enfame.
Ergo, thou art encresed and not apeyred."
"Lady," quod I, "somtyme yet, if a man
be in disese, th'estimacion of the envyous people ne loketh nothing to
desertes of men, ne to the merytes of their doinges, but only to the aventure
of fortune; and therafter they yeven their sentence. And some loken the
voluntary wil in his herte, and therafter telleth his jugement; not taking
hede to reson ne to the qualitè of the doing; as thus. If a man
be riche and fulfild with worldly welfulnesse, some commenden it, and sayn
it is so lent by juste cause; and he that hath adversitè, they sayn
he is weked; and hath deserved thilke anoy. The contrarye of these thinges
some men holden also; and sayn that to the riche prosperitè is purvayed
in-to his confusion; and upon this mater many autoritès of many
and greet-witted clerkes they alegen. And some men sayn, though al good
estimacion forsake folk that han adversité, yet is it meryte and
encrees of his blisse; so that these purposes arn so wonderful in understanding,
that trewly, for myn adversitè now, I not how the sentence of the
indifferent people wil jugen my fame."
"Therfore," quod she, "if any wight shulde
yeve a trewe sentence on suche maters, the cause of the disese maist thou
see wel. Understand ther-upon after what ende it draweth, that is to sayne,
good or badde; so ought it to have his fame *by goodnesse or enfame by
badnesse. For [of] every resonable person, and namely of a wyse man, his
wit ought not, without reson to-forn herd, sodainly in a mater to juge.
After the sawes of the wyse, `thou shalt not juge ne deme toforn thou knowe.'"
"Lady," quod I, "ye remembre wel, that
in moste laude and praysing of certayne seyntes in holy churche, is to
rehersen their conuersion from badde in-to good; and that is so rehersed,
as by a perpetual mirrour of remembraunce, in worshippinge of tho sayntes,
and good ensample to other misdoers in amendement. How turned the Romayne
Zedeoreys fro the Romaynes, to be with Hanibal ayenst his kynde nacion;
and afterwardes, him seming the Romayns to be at the next degrè
of confusion, turned to his olde alyes; by whose witte after was Hanibal
discomfited. Wherfore, to enfourme you, lady, the maner-why I mene, see
now. In my youth I was drawe to ben assentaunt and (in my mightes) helping
to certain conjuracions and other grete maters of ruling of citizins; and
thilke thinges ben my drawers in; and ex[c]itours to tho maters wern so
paynted and coloured that (at the prime face) me semed them noble and glorious
to al the people. I than, wening mikel meryte have deserved in furthering
and mayntenaunce of tho thinges, besyed and laboured, with al my diligence,
in werkinge of thilke maters to the ende. And trewly, lady, to telle you
the sothe, me rought litel of any hate of the mighty senatours in thilke
cité, ne of comunes malice; for two skilles. Oon was, I had comfort
to ben in suche plyte, that bothe profit were to me and to my frendes.
Another was, for commen profit in cominaltee is not but pees and tranquilitè,
with just governaunce, proceden from thilke profit; sithen, by counsayle
of myne inwitte, me thought the firste painted thinges malice and yvel
meninge, withouten any good avayling to any people, and of tyrannye purposed.
And so, for pure sorowe, and of my medlinge and badde infame that I was
in ronne, tho [the] teres [that] lasshed out of myne eyen were thus awaye
wasshe, than the under-hidde malice and the rancour of purposing envye,
forncast and imagined in distruccion of mokil people, shewed so openly,
that, had I ben blind, with myne hondes al the circumstaunce I might wel
have feled.
Now than tho persones that suche thinges have cast to
redresse, for wrathe of my first medlinge, shopen me to dwelle in this
pynande prison, til Lachases my threed no lenger wolde twyne. And ever
I was sought, if me liste to have grace of my lyfe and frenesse of that
prison, I shulde openly confesse how pees might ben enduced to enden al
the firste rancours. It was fully supposed my knowing to be ful in tho
maters. Than, lady, I thought that every man that, by any waye of right,
rightfully don, may helpe any comune *wele to ben saved; whiche thing to
kepe above al thinges I am holde to mayntayne, and namely in distroying
of a wrong; al shulde I therthrough enpeche myn owne fere, if he were gilty
and to do misdeed assentaunt. And mayster ne frend may nought avayle to
the soule of him that in falsnesse deyeth; and also that I nere desyred
wrathe of the people ne indignacion of the worthy, for nothinge that ever
I wrought or did, in any doing my-selfe els, but in the mayntenaunce of
these foresayd errours and in hydinge of the privitees therof. And that
al the peoples hertes, holdinge on the errours syde, weren blinde and of
elde so ferforth begyled, that debat and stryf they maynteyned, and in
distruccion on that other syde; by whiche cause the pees, that moste in
comunaltee shulde be desyred, was in poynte to be broken and adnulled.
Also the citee of London, that is to me so dere and swete, in whiche I
was forth growen; (and more kyndely love have I to that place than to any
other in erthe, as every kyndely creature hath ful appetyte to that place
of his kyndly engendrure, and to wilne reste and pees in that stede to
abyde); thilke pees shulde thus there have ben broken, and of al wyse it
is commended and desyred. For knowe thing it is, al men that desyren to
comen to the perfit pees everlasting must the pees by god commended bothe
mayntayne and kepe. This pees by angels voyce was confirmed, our god entringe
in this worlde. This, as for his Testament, he lefte to al his frendes,
whanne he retourned to the place from whence he cam; this his apostel amonesteth
to holden, without whiche man perfitly may have non insight. Also this
god, by his coming, made not pees alone betwene hevenly and erthly bodyes,
but also amonge us on erthe so he pees confirmed, that in one heed of love
oon body we shulde perfourme. Also I remembre me wel how the name of Athenes
was rather after the god of pees than of batayle, shewinge that pees moste
is necessarie to comunaltees and citees. I than, so styred by al these
wayes toforn nempned, declared certayne poyntes in this wyse. Firste, that
thilke persones that hadden me drawen to their purposes, and me not weting
the privy entent of their meninge, drawen also the feeble-witted people,
that have non insight of gubernatif prudence, to clamure and to crye on
maters that they styred; and under poyntes for comune avauntage they enbolded
the passif to take in the actives doinge; and also styred innocentes of
conning to crye after thinges, whiche (quod they) may not stande but we
ben executours of tho maters, and auctoritè of execucion by comen
eleccion to us be delivered. And that muste entre by strength of your mayntenaunce.
For we out of suche degree put, oppression of these olde hindrers shal
agayn surmounten, and putten you in such subjeccion, that in endelesse
wo ye shul complayne.
The governementes (quod they) of your citè, lefte
in the handes of torcencious citezins, shal bringe in pestilence and distruccion
to you, good men; and therfore let us have the comune administracion to
abate suche yvels. Also (quod they) it is worthy the good to commende,
and the gilty desertes to chastice. There ben citezens many, for-ferde
of execucion that shal be doon; for extorcions by hem committed ben evermore
ayenst these purposes and al other good mevinges. Never-the-latter, lady,
trewly the meninge under these wordes was, fully to have apeched the mighty
senatoures, whiche hadden hevy herte for the misgovernaunce that they seen.
And so, lady, whan it fel that free eleccion [was mad], by greet clamour
of moche people, [that] for greet disese of misgovernaunce so fervently
stoden in her eleccion that they hem submitted to every maner *fate rather
than have suffred the maner and the rule of the hated governours; notwithstandinge
that in the contrary helden moche comune meyny, that have no consideracion
but only to voluntary lustes withouten reson. But than thilke governour
so forsaken, fayninge to-forn his undoinge for misrule in his tyme, shoop
to have letted thilke eleccion, and have made a newe, him-selfe to have
ben chosen; and under that, mokil rore [to] have arered. These thinges,
lady, knowen among the princes, and made open to the people, draweth in
amendement, that every degree shal ben ordayned to stande there-as he shulde;
and that of errours coming herafter men may lightly to-forn-hand purvaye
remedye; in this wyse pees and rest to be furthered and holde. Of the whiche
thinges, lady, thilke persones broughten in answere to-forn their moste
soverayne juge, not coarted by payninge dures, openly knowlegeden, and
asked therof grace; so that apertly it preveth my wordes ben sothe, without
forginge of lesinges.
But now it greveth me to remembre these dyvers sentences,
in janglinge of these shepy people; certes, me thinketh, they oughten to
maken joye that a sothe may be knowe. For my trouthe and my conscience
ben witnesse to me bothe, that this (knowinge sothe) have I sayd, for no
harme ne malice of tho persones, but only for trouthe of my sacrament in
my ligeaunce, by whiche I was charged on my kinges behalfe. But see ye
not now, lady, how the felonous thoughtes of this people and covins of
wicked men conspyren ayen my sothfast trouth! See ye not every wight that
to these erroneous opinions were assentaunt, and helpes to the noyse, and
knewen al these thinges better than I my-selven, apparaylen to fynden newe
frendes, and clepen me fals, and studyen how they mowen in her mouthes
werse plyte nempne? O god, what may this be, that thilke folk whiche that
in tyme of my mayntenaunce, and whan my might avayled to strecche to the
forsayd maters, tho me commended, and yave me name of trouth, in so manyfolde
maners that it was nyghe in every wightes eere, there-as any of thilke
people weren; and on the other syde, thilke company somtyme passed, yevinge
me name of badde loos: now bothe tho peoples turned the good in-to badde,
and badde in-to good? Whiche thing is wonder, that they knowing me saying
but sothe, arn now tempted to reply her olde praysinges; and knowen me
wel in al doinges to ben trewe, and sayn openly that I false have sayd
many thinges! And they aleged nothing me to ben false or untrewe, save
thilke mater knowleged by the parties hem-selfe; and god wot, other mater
is non. Ye also, lady, knowe these thinges for trewe; I avaunte not in
praysing of my-selfe; therby shulde I lese the precious secrè of
my conscience. But ye see wel that false opinion of the people for my trouthe,
in telling out of false conspyred maters; and after the jugement of these
clerkes, I shulde not hyde the sothe of no maner person, mayster ne other.
Wherfore I wolde not drede, were it put in the consideracion of trewe and
of wyse. And for comers hereafter shullen fully, out of denwere, al the
sothe knowe of these thinges in acte, but as they wern, I have put it in
scripture, in perpetuel remembraunce of true meninge. For trewly, lady,
me semeth that I ought to bere the name of trouthe, that for the love of
rightwysnesse have thus me *submitted. But now than the false fame, which
that (clerkes sayn) flyeth as faste as doth the fame of trouthe, shal so
wyde sprede til it be brought to the jewel that I of mene; and so shal
I ben hindred, withouten any mesure of trouthe."
THAN gan Love sadly me beholde, and sayd in a changed voyce, lower than
she had spoken in any tyme: "Fayn wolde I," quod she, "that
thou were holpen; but hast thou sayd any-thing whiche thou might not proven?"
"Pardè," quod I, "the persones,
every thing as I have sayd, han knowleged hem-selfe."
"Ye," quod she, "but what if they hadden
nayed? How woldest thou have maynteyned it?"
"Sothely," quod I, "it is wel wist, bothe
amonges the greetest and other of the realme, that I profered my body so
largely in-to provinge of tho thinges, that Mars shulde have juged the
ende; but, for sothnesse of my wordes, they durste not to thilke juge truste."
"Now, certes," quod she, "above al fames
in this worlde, the name of marcial doinges most plesen to ladyes of my
lore; but sithen thou were redy, and thyne adversaryes in thy presence
refused thilke doing; thy fame ought to be so born as if in dede it had
take to the ende. And therfore every wight that any droppe of reson hath,
and hereth of thee infame for these thinges, hath this answere to saye:
`trewly thou saydest; for thyne adversaryes thy wordes affirmed.' And if
thou haddest lyed, yet are they discomfited, the prise leved on thy syde;
so that fame shal holde down infame; he shal bringe [it in] upon none halfe.
What greveth thee thyne enemye[s] to sayn their owne shame, as thus: `we
arn discomfited, and yet our quarel is trewe?' Shal not the loos of thy
frendes ayenward dequace thilke enfame, and saye they graunted a sothe
without a stroke or fighting? Many men in batayle ben discomfited and overcome
in a rightful quarel, that is goddes privy jugement in heven; but yet,
although the party be yolden, he may with wordes saye his quarel is trewe,
and to yelde him, in the contrarye, for drede of dethe he is compelled;
and he that graunteth and no stroke hath feled, he may not crepe away in
this wyse by none excusacion. Indifferent folk wil say: `ye, who is trewe,
who is fals, him-selfe knowlegeth tho thinges.' Thus in every syde fame
sheweth to thee good and no badde."
"But yet," quod I, "some wil say, I ne
shulde, for no dethe, have discovered my maistresse; and so by unkyndnesse
they wol knette infame, to pursue me aboute. Thus enemyes of wil, in manyfolde
maner, wol seche privy serpentynes queintyses, to quenche and distroye,
by venim of many besinesses, the light of tr[o]uthe; to make hertes to
murmure ayenst my persone, to have me in hayne withouten any cause."
"Now," quod she, "here me a fewe wordes,
and thou shalt fully ben answered, I trowe. Me thinketh (quod she) right
now, by thy wordes, that sacrament of swering, that is to say, charging
by othe, was oon of the causes to make thee discover the malicious imaginacions
tofore nempned. Every ooth, by knittinge of copulacion, muste have these
lawes, that is, trewe jugement and rightwysenesse; in whiche thinge if
any of these lacke, the ooth is y-tourned in-to the name of perjury. Than
to make a trewe serment, most nedes these thinges folowe. For ofte tymes,
a man to saye sothe, but jugement and justice folowe, he is forsworn; ensample
of Herodes, for holdinge of his serment was [he] dampned.
Also, to saye tr[o]uthe rightfulliche (but in jugement)
otherwhile is forboden, by that al sothes be nat to sayne. Therfore in
jugement, in tr[o]uthe, and rightwisenesse, is every creature bounden,
up payne of perjury, ful knowing to make, tho[ugh] it were of his owne
persone, for drede of sinne; after that worde, `better is it to dey than
live false.' And, al wolde perverted people fals report make in unkyndnesse,
in that entent thy [en]fame to reyse, whan light of tr[o]uthe in these
maters is forth sprongen and openly publisshed among commens, than shal
nat suche derke enfame dare appere, for pure shame of his falsnesse. As
some men ther ben that their owne enfame can none otherwyse voide or els
excuse, but *by hindringe of other mennes fame; which that by non other
cause clepen other men false, but for [that] with their owne falsnesse
mowen they nat ben avaunsed; or els by false sklaund[r]inge wordes other
men shenden, their owne trewe sklaunder to make seme the lasse. For if
such men wolden their eyen of their conscience revolven, [they] shulden
seen the same sentence they legen on other springe out of their sydes,
with so many braunches, it were impossible to nombre. To whiche therefore
may it be sayd in that thinge, `this man thou demest, therein thy-selfe
thou condempnest.'
But (quod she) understand nat by these wordes, that
thou wene me saye thee to be worthy sclaunder, for any mater tofore written;
truely I wolde witnesse the contrary; but I saye that the bemes of sclaundring
wordes may not be don awaye til the daye of dome. For how shulde it nat
yet, amonges so greet plentee of people, ben many shrewes, sithen whan
no mo but eight persons in Noes shippe were closed, yet oon was a shrewe
and skorned his father? These thinges (quod she) I trowe, shewen that fals
fame is nat to drede, ne of wyse persons to accepte, and namely nat of
thy Margarite, whose wysdom here-after I thinke to declare; wherfore I
wot wel suche thing shal nat her asterte; than of unkyndnesse thyn ooth
hath thee excused at the fulle. But now, if thou woldest nat greve, me
list a fewe thinges to shewe."
"Say on," quod I, "what ye wol; I trowe
ye mene but trouthe and my profit in tyme cominge."
"Trewly," quod she, "that is sothe, so
thou con wel kepe these wordes, and in the in[ne]rest secrè chambre
of thyne herte so faste hem close that they never flitte; than shalt thou
fynde hem avayling. Loke now what people hast thou served; whiche of hem
al in tyme of thyne exile ever thee refresshed, by the valewe of the leste
coyned plate that walketh in money? Who was sory, or made any rewth for
thy disese? If they hadden getten their purpose, of thy misaventure sette
they nat an hawe. Lo, whan thou were emprisonned, how faste they hyed in
helpe of thy deliveraunce! I wene of thy dethe they yeve but lyte. They
loked after no-thing but after their owne lustes. And if thou liste say
the sothe, al that meyny that in this *brige thee broughten, lokeden rather
after thyne helpes than thee to have releved.
Owen nat yet some of hem money for his commens? Paydest
nat thou for some of her dispences, til they were tourned out of Selande?
Who yave thee ever ought for any rydinge thou madest? Yet, pardè,
some of hem token money for thy chambre, and putte tho pens in his purse,
unwetinge of the renter.
Lo for which a company thou medlest, that neither thee
ne them-selfe mighten helpe of unkyndnesse; now they bere the name that
thou supposest of hem for to have. What might thou more have don than thou
diddest, but-if thou woldest in a fals quarel have been a stinkinge martyr?
I wene thou fleddest, as longe as thou might, their privitè to counsayle;
which thing thou hele[de]st lenger than thou shuldest. And thilke that
ought thee money no penny wolde paye; they wende thy returne hadde ben
an impossible. How might thou better have hem proved, but thus in thy nedy
diseses? Now hast thou ensaumple for whom thou shalt meddle; trewly, this
lore is worth many goodes."
*EFT gan Love to *steren me [with] these wordes: "thinke on my
speche; for trewly here-after it wol do thee lykinge; and how-so-ever thou
see Fortune shape her wheele to tourne, this meditacion [shal] by no waye
revolve. For certes, Fortune sheweth her fayrest, whan she thinketh to
begyle. And as me thought, here-toforn thou saydest, thy loos in love,
for thy rightwysenesse ought to be raysed, shulde be a-lowed in tyme cominge.
Thou might in love so thee have, that loos and fame shul so ben raysed,
that to thy frendes comfort, and sorowe to thyne enemys, endlesse shul
endure.
But if thou were the oon sheep, amonges the hundred,
were lost in deserte and out of the way hadde erred, and now to the flocke
art restoored, the shepherd hath in thee no joye and thou ayen to the forrest
tourne. But that right as the sorowe and anguisshe was greet in tyme of
thyne out-waye goinge, right so joye and gladnesse shal be doubled to sene
thee converted; and nat as Lothes wyf ayen-lokinge, but [in] hool counsayle
with the shepe folowinge, and with them grasse and herbes gadre. Never-the-later
(quod she) I saye nat these thinges for no wantrust that I have in supposinge
of thee otherwyse than I shulde. For trewly, I wot wel that now thou art
set in suche a purpose, out of whiche thee liste nat to parte. But I saye
it for many men there been, that to knowinge of other mennes doinges setten
al their cure, and lightly desyren the badde to clatter rather than the
good, and have no wil their owne maner to amende. They also hate of olde
rancours lightly haven; and there that suche thing abydeth, sodaynly in
their mouthes procedeth the habundaunce of the herte, and wordes as stones
out-throwe. Wherfore my counsayl is ever-more openly and apertly, in what
place thou sitte, counterplete th'errours and meninges in as fer as thou
hem wistest false, and leve for no wight to make hem be knowe in every
bodyes ere; and be alway pacient and use Jacobes wordes, what-so-ever men
of thee clappen: `I shal sustayne my ladyes wrathe which I have deserved,
so longe as my Margarite hath rightwysed my cause.' And certes (quod she)
I witnesse my-selfe, if thou, thus converted, sorowest in good meninge
in thyne herte, [and] wolt from al vanitè parfitly departe, in consolacioun
of al good plesaunce of that Margaryte, whiche that thou desyrest after
wil of thyn herte, in a maner of a *moders pitè, [she] shul fully
accepte thee in-to grace. For right as thou rentest clothes in open sighte,
so openly to sowe hem at his worshippe withouten reprofe [is] commended.
Also, right as thou were ensample of moche-folde errour, right so thou
must be ensample of manyfolde correccioun; so good savour to forgoing *of
errour causeth diligent love, with many playted praisinges to folowe; and
than shal al the firste errours make the folowinge worshippes to seme hugely
encresed. Blacke and white, set togider, every for other more semeth; and
so doth every thinges contrary in kynde. But infame, that goth alwaye tofore,
and praysinge worship by any cause folowinge after, maketh to ryse the
ilke honour in double of welth; and that quencheth the spotte of the first
enfame. Why wenest, I saye, these thinges in hindringe of thy name? Nay,
nay, god wot, but for pure encresing worship, thy rightwysenesse to commende,
and thy trouthe to seme the more. Wost nat wel thy-selfe, that thou in
fourme of making *passest nat Adam that eet of the apple? Thou *passest
nat the stedfastnesse of Noe, that eetinge of the grape becom dronke. Thou
passest nat the chastitè of Lothe, that lay by his doughter; eke
the nobley of Abraham, whom god reproved by his pryde; also Davides mekenesse,
whiche for a woman made Urye be slawe. What? also Hector of Troye, in whom
no defaute might be founde, yet is he reproved that he ne hadde with manhode
nat suffred the warre begonne, ne Paris to have went in-to Grece, by whom
gan al the sorowe. For trewly, him lacketh no venim of privè consenting,
whiche that openly leveth a wrong to withsaye.
Lo eke an olde proverbe amonges many other: `He that
is stille semeth as he graunted.'
Now by these ensamples thou might fully understonde,
that these thinges ben writte to your lerning, and in rightwysenesse of
tho persones, as thus: To every wight his defaute committed made goodnesse
afterwardes don be the more in reverence and in open shewing; for ensample,
is it nat songe in holy churche, `Lo, how necessary was Adams synne!' David
the king gat Salomon the king of her that was Uryes wyf. Truly, for reprofe
is non of these thinges writte. Right so, tho I reherce thy before-dede,
I repreve thee never the more; ne for no villany of thee are they rehersed,
but for worshippe, so thou continewe wel here-after: and for profit of
thy-selfe I rede thou on hem thinke."
Than sayde I right thus: "Lady of unitè
and accorde, envy and wrathe lurken there thou comest in place; ye weten
wel your-selve, and so don many other, that whyle I administred the office
of commen doinge, as in rulinge of the stablisshmentes amonges the people,
I defouled never my conscience for no maner dede; but ever, by witte and
by counsayle of the wysest, the maters weren drawen to their right endes.
And thus trewly for you, lady, I have desyred suche cure; and certes, in
your service was I nat ydel, as fer as suche doinge of my cure streccheth."
"That is a thing," quod she, "that may
drawe many hertes of noble, and voice of commune in-to glory; and fame
is nat but wrecched and fickle. Alas! that mankynde coveyteth in so leude
a wyse to be rewarded of any good dede, sithe glorie of fame, in this worlde,
is nat but hindringe of glorie in tyme comminge! And certes (quod she)
yet at the hardest suche fame, in-to heven, is nat the erthe but a centre
to the cercle of heven? A pricke is wonder litel in respect of al the cercle;
and yet, in al this pricke, may no name be born, in maner of peersing,
for many obstacles, as waters, and wildernesse, and straunge langages.
And nat only names of men ben stilled and holden out of knowleginge by
these obstacles, but also citees and realmes of prosperitè ben letted
to be knowe, and their reson hindred; so that they mowe nat ben parfitly
in mennes propre understandinge. How shulde than the name of a singuler
Londenoys passe the glorious name of London, whiche by many it is commended,
and by many it is lacked, and in many mo places in erthe nat knowen than
knowen? For in many countrees litel is London in knowing or in spech; and
yet among oon maner of people may nat such fame in goodnes come; for as
many as praysen, commenly as many lacken. Fy than on such maner fame! Slepe,
and suffre him that knoweth previtè of hertes to dele suche fame
in thilke place there nothing ayenst a sothe shal neither speke ne dare
apere, by attourney ne by other maner. How many greet-named, and many greet
in worthinesse losed, han be tofore this tyme, that now out of memorie
are slidden, and clenely forgeten, for defaute of wrytinges! And yet scriptures
for greet elde so ben defased, that no perpetualtè may in hem ben
juged. But if thou wolt make comparisoun to ever, what joye mayst thou
have in erthly name? It is a fayr lykenesse, a pees or oon grayn of whete,
to a thousand shippes ful of corne charged! What nombre is betwene the
oon and th'other? And yet mowe bothe they be nombred, and ende in rekening
have. But trewly, al that may be nombred is nothing to recken, as to thilke
that may nat be nombred. For *of the thinges ended is mad comparison; as,
oon litel, another greet; but in thinges to have an ende, and another no
ende, suche comparisoun may nat be founden. Wherfore in heven to ben losed
with god hath non ende, but endlesse endureth; and thou canst nothing don
aright, but thou desyre the rumour therof be heled and in every wightes
ere; and that dureth but a pricke in respecte of the other. And so thou
sekest reward of folkes smale wordes, and of vayne praysinges. Trewly,
therin thou lesest the guerdon of vertue; and lesest the grettest valour
of conscience, and uphap thy renomè everlasting. Therfore boldely
renomè of fame of the erthe shulde be hated, and fame after deth
shulde be desyred of werkes of vertue. [Trewly, vertue] asketh guerdoning,
and the soule causeth al vertue. Than the soule, delivered out of prison
of erthe, is most worthy suche guerdon among to have in the everlastinge
fame; and nat the body, that causeth al mannes yvels.
OF twey thinges art thou answered, as me thinketh (quod Love); and if
any thing be in doute in thy soule, shewe it forth, thyn ignoraunce to
clere, and leve it for no shame."
"Certes," quod I, "there is no body in
this worlde, that aught coude saye by reson ayenst any of your skilles,
as I leve; and by my witte now fele I wel, that yvel-spekers or berers
of enfame may litel greve or lette my purpos, but rather by suche thinge
my quarel to be forthered."
"Ye," quod she, "and it is proved also,
that the ilke jewel in my kepinge shal nat there-thorow be stered, of the
lest moment that might be imagined."
"That is soth," quod I.
"Wel," quod she, "than *leveth there,
to declare that thy insuffisance is no maner letting, as thus: for that
she is so worthy, thou shuldest not clymbe so highe; for thy moebles and
thyn estate arn voyded, thou thinkest [thee] fallen in suche miserie, that
gladnesse of thy pursute wol nat on thee discende."
"Certes," quod I, "that is sothe; right
suche thought is in myn herte; for commenly it is spoken, and for an olde
proverbe it is leged: `He that heweth to hye, with chippes he may lese
his sight.' Wherfore I have ben about, in al that ever I might, to studye
wayes of remedye by one syde or by another."
"Now," quod she, "god forbede *that thou
seke any other doinges but suche as I have lerned thee in our resting-
whyles, and suche herbes as ben planted in oure gardins. Thou shalt wel
understande that above man is but oon god alone."
"How," quod I, "han men to-forn this
tyme trusted in writtes and chauntements, and in helpes of spirites that
dwellen in the ayre, and therby they han getten their desyres, where-as
first, for al his manly power, he daunced behynde?"
"O," quod she, "fy on suche maters! For
trewly, that is sacrilege; and that shal have no sort with any of my servauntes;
in myne eyen shal suche thing nat be loked after. How often is it commaunded
by these passed wyse, that `to one god shal men serve, and not to goddes?'
And who that liste to have myne helpes, shal aske none helpe of foule spirites.
Alas! is nat man maked semblable to god? Wost thou nat wel, that al vertue
of lyvelich werkinge, by goddes purveyaunce, is underput to resonable creature
in erthe? Is nat every thing, a this halfe god, mad buxom to mannes contemplation,
understandinge in heven and in erthe and in helle? Hath not man beinge
with stones, soule of wexing with trees and herbes? Hath he nat soule of
felinge, with beestes, fisshes, and foules? And he hath soule of reson
and understanding with aungels; so that in him is knit al maner of lyvinges
by a resonable proporcioun. Also man is mad of al the foure elementes.
Al universitee is rekened in him alone; he hath, under god, principalitè
above al thinges. Now is his soule here, now a thousand myle hence; now
fer, now nygh; now hye, now lowe; as fer in a moment as in mountenaunce
of ten winter; and al this is in mannes governaunce and disposicion. Than
sheweth it that men ben liche unto goddes, and children of moost heyght.
But now, sithen al thinges [arn] underput to the wil of resonable creatures,
god forbede any man to winne that lordship, and aske helpe of any-thing
lower than him-selfe; and than, namely, of foule thinges innominable. Now
than, why shuldest thou wene to love to highe, sithen nothing is thee above
but god alone? Trewly, I wot wel that thilke jewel is in a maner even in
lyne of degree there thou art thy-selfe, and nought above, save thus: aungel
upon angel, man upon man, and devil upon devil han a maner of soveraigntee;
and that shal cese at the daye of dome. And so I say: though thou be put
to serve the ilke jewel duringe thy lyfe, yet is that no servage of underputtinge,
but a maner of travayling plesaunce, to conquere and gette that thou hast
not. I sette now the hardest: in my service now thou deydest, for sorowe
of wantinge in thy desyres; trewly, al hevenly bodyes with one voyce shul
come and make melody in thy cominge, and saye--`Welcome, our fere, and
worthy to entre into Jupiters joye! For thou with might hast overcome deth;
thou woldest never flitte out of thy service; and we al shul now praye
to the goddes, rowe by rowe, to make thilk Margarite, that no routh had
in this persone, but unkyndely without comfort let thee deye, shal besette
her-selfe in suche wyse, that in erthe, for parte of vengeaunce, shal she
no joye have in loves service; and whan she is deed, than shal her soule
ben brought up in-to thy presence; and whider thou wilt chese, thilke soule
shal ben committed.' Or els, after thy deth, anon al the foresayd hevenly
bodyes, by one accorde, shal *benimen from thilke perle al the vertues
that firste her were taken; for she hath hem forfeyted by that on thee,
my servaunt, in thy lyve, she wolde not suffre to worche al vertues, withdrawen
by might of the hygh bodyes. Why than shuldest thou wene so any more? And
if thee liste to loke upon the lawe of kynde, and with order whiche to
me was ordayned, sothely, non age, non overtourninge tyme but *hiderto
had no tyme ne power to chaunge the wedding, ne the knotte to unbynde of
two hertes [that] thorow oon assent, in my presence, *togider accorden
to enduren til deth hem departe. What? trowest thou, every ideot wot the
meninge and the privy entent of these thinges? They wene, forsothe, that
suche accord may not be, but the rose of maydenhede be plucked. Do way,
do way; they knowe nothing of this. For consent of two hertes alone maketh
the fasteninge of the knotte; neither lawe of kynde ne mannes lawe determineth
neither the age ne the qualitè of persones, but only accord bitwene
thilke twaye. And trewly, after tyme that suche accord, by their consent
in hert, is enseled, and put in my tresorye amonges my privy thinges, than
ginneth the name of spousayle; and although they breken forward bothe,
yet suche mater enseled is kept in remembrance for ever. And see now that
spouses have the name anon after accord, though the rose be not take. The
aungel bad Joseph take Marye his spouse, and to Egypte wende. Lo! she was
cleped `spouse,' and yet, toforn ne after, neither of hem bothe mente no
flesshly lust knowe. Wherfore the wordes of trouthe acorden that my servauntes
shulden forsake bothe *fader and moder, and be adherand to his spouse;
and they two in unitè of one flesshe shulden accorde. And this wyse,
two that wern firste in a litel maner discordaunt, hygher that oon and
lower that other, ben mad evenliche in gree to stonde. But now to enfourme
thee that ye ben liche to goddes, these clerkes sayn, and in determinacion
shewen, that `three thinges haven [by] the names of goddes ben cleped;
that is to sayn: man, divel, and images'; but yet is there but oon god,
of whom al goodnesse, al grace, and al vertue cometh; and he *is loving
and trewe, and everlasting, and pryme cause of al being thinges. But men
ben goddes lovinge and trewe, but not everlasting; and that is by adopcioun
of the everlastinge god. Divels ben goddes, stirringe by a maner of lyving;
but neither ben they trewe ne everlastinge; and their name of godliheed
th[e]y han by usurpacion, as the prophete sayth: `Al goddes of gentyles
(that is to say, paynims) are divels.' But images ben goddes by nuncupacion;
and they ben neither livinge ne trewe, ne everlastinge. After these wordes
they clepen `goddes' images wrought with mennes handes. But now [art thou
a] resonable creature, that by adopcion alone art to the grete god everlastinge,
and therby thou art `god' cleped: let thy *faders maners so entre thy wittes
that thou might folowe, in-as-moche as longeth to thee, thy *faders worship,
so that in nothinge thy kynde from his wil declyne, ne from his nobley
perverte. In this wyse if thou werche, thou art above al other thinges
save god alone; and so say no more `thyn herte to serve in to hye a place.'
FULLY have I now declared thyn estate to be good, so thou folow therafter,
and that the *objeccion first *by thee aleged, in worthinesse of thy Margaryte,
shal not thee lette, as it shal forther thee, and encrese thee. It is now
to declare, the last objeccion in nothing may greve."
"Yes, certes," quod I, "bothe greve and
lette muste it nedes; the contrarye may not ben proved; and see now why.
Whyle I was glorious in worldly welfulnesse, and had suche goodes in welth
as maken men riche, tho was I drawe in-to companyes that loos, prise, and
name yeven. Tho louteden blasours; tho curreyden glosours; tho welcomeden
flatterers; tho worshipped thilke that now deynen nat to loke. Every wight,
in such erthly wele habundant, is holde noble, precious, benigne, and wyse
to do what he shal, in any degree that men him sette; al-be-it that the
sothe be in the contrarye of al tho thinges. But he that can never so wel
him behave, and hath vertue habundaunt in manyfolde maners, and be nat
welthed with suche erthly goodes, is holde for a foole, and sayd, his wit
is but sotted. Lo! how fals for aver is holde trewe! Lo! how trewe is cleped
fals for wanting of goodes! Also, lady, dignitees of office maken men mikel
comended, as thus: `he is so good, were he out, his pere shulde men not
fynde.' Trewly, I trowe of some suche that are so praysed, were they out
ones, another shulde make him so be knowe, he shulde of no wyse no more
ben loked after: but only fooles, wel I wot, desyren suche newe thinges.
Wherfore I wonder that thilke governour, out of whom alone the causes proceden
that governen al thinges, whiche that hath ordeyned this world in workes
of the kyndely bodyes so be governed, not with unstedfast or happyous thing,
but with rules of reson, whiche shewen the course of certayne thinges:
why suffreth he suche slydinge chaunges, that misturnen suche noble thinges
as ben we men, that arn a fayr parcel of the erthe, and holden the upperest
degree, under god, of benigne thinges, as ye sayden right now your-selfe;
shulde never man have ben set in so worthy a place but-if his degrè
were ordayned noble. Alas! thou that knittest the purveyaunce of al thinges,
why lokest thou not to amenden these defautes? I see shrewes that han wicked
maners sitten in chayres of domes, lambes to punisshen, there wolves shulden
ben punisshed. Lo! vertue, shynende naturelly, for povertee lurketh, and
is hid under cloude; but the moone false, forsworn (as I knowe my-selfe)
for aver and yeftes, hath usurped to shyne by day-light, with peynture
of other mens praysinges; and trewly, thilke forged light fouly shulde
fade, were the trouth away of colours feyned. Thus is night turned in-to
day, and day in-to night; winter in-to sommer, and sommer in-to winter;
not in dede, but in misclepinge of foliche people."
"Now," quod she, "what wenest thou of
these thinges? How felest thou in thyn hert, by what governaunce that this
cometh aboute?"
"Certes," quod I, "that wot I never;
but-if it be that Fortune hath graunt from above, to lede the ende of man
as her lyketh."
"Ah! now I see," quod she, "th'entent
of thy mening! Lo, bycause thy worldly goodes ben fulliche dispent, thou
beraft out of dignitè of office, in whiche thou madest the *gaderinge
of thilke goodes, and yet diddest in that office by counsaile of wyse [before
that] any thing were ended; and true were unto hem whos profit thou shuldest
loke; and seest now many that in thilke hervest made of thee mokel, and
now, for glosing of other, deyneth thee nought to forther, but enhaunsen
false shrewes by witnessinge of trouthe! These thinges greveth thyn herte,
to sene thy-selfe thus abated; and than, frayltè of mankynde ne
setteth but litel by the lesers of suche richesse, have he never so moche
vertue; and so thou wenest of thy jewel to renne in dispyt, and not ben
accepted in-to grace. Al this shal thee nothing hinder. Now (quod she)
first thou wost wel, thou lostest nothing that ever mightest thou chalenge
for thyn owne. Whan nature brought thee forth, come thou not naked out
of thy *moders wombe? Thou haddest no richesse; and whan thou shalt entre
in-to the ende of every flesshly body, what shalt thou have with thee than?
So, every richesse thou hast in tyme of thy livinge, nis but lent; thou
might therin chalenge no propertee. And see now; every thing that is a
mannes own, he may do therwith what him lyketh, to yeve or to kepe; but
richesse thou playnest from thee lost; if thy might had strecched so ferforth,
fayn thou woldest have hem kept, multiplyed with mo other; and so, ayenst
thy wil, ben they departed from thee; wherfore they were never thyn. And
if thou laudest and joyest any wight, for he is stuffed with suche maner
richesse, thou art in that beleve begyled; for thou wenest thilke joye
to be selinesse or els ese; and he that hath lost suche happes to ben unsely."
"Ye, forsoth," quod I.
"Wel," quod she, "than wol I prove that
unsely in that wise is to preise; and so the tother is, the contrary, to
be lacked."
"How so?" quod I.
"For Unsely," quod she, "begyleth nat,
but sheweth th'entent of her working. Et e contra: Selinesse begyleth.
For in prosperitè she maketh a jape in blyndnesse; that is, she
wyndeth him to make sorowe whan she withdraweth. Wolt thou nat (quod she)
preise him better that sheweth to thee his herte, tho[ugh] it be with bytande
wordes and dispitous, than him that gloseth and thinketh in *his absence
to do thee many harmes?"
"Certes," quod I, "the oon is to commende;
and the other to lacke and dispice."
"A! ha!" quod she, "right so Ese, while
*she lasteth, gloseth and flatereth; and lightly voydeth whan she most
plesauntly sheweth; and ever, in hir absence, she is aboute to do thee
tene and sorowe in herte. But Unsely, al-be-it with bytande chere, sheweth
what she is, and so doth not that other; wherfore Unsely doth not begyle.
Selinesse disceyveth; Unsely put away doute. That oon maketh men blynde;
that other openeth their eyen in shewinge of wrecchidnesse. The oon is
ful of drede to lese that is not his owne; that other is sobre, and maketh
men discharged of mokel hevinesse in burthen. The oon draweth a man from
very good; the other haleth him to vertue by the hookes of thoughtes. And
wenist thou nat that thy disese hath don thee mokel more to winne than
ever yet thou lostest, and more than ever the contrary made thee winne?
Is nat a greet good, to thy thinking, for to knowe the hertes of thy sothfast
frendes? Pardè, they ben proved to the ful, and the trewe have discevered
fro the false. Trewly, at the goinge of the ilke brotel joye, ther yede
no more away than the ilke that was nat thyn proper. He was never from
that lightly departed; thyn owne good therfore leveth it stille with thee.
Now good (quod she); for how moche woldest thou somtyme have bought this
verry knowing of thy frendes from the flatteringe flyes that thee glosed,
whan thou thought thy-selfe sely? But thou that playnest of losse in richesse,
hast founden the most dere-worthy thing; that thou clepest unsely hath
made thee moche thing to winnen. And also, for conclusioun of al, he is
frende that now leveth nat his herte from thyne helpes. And if that Margarite
denyeth now nat to suffre her vertues shyne to thee-wardes with spredinge
bemes, as far or farther than if thou were sely in worldly joye, trewly,
I saye nat els but she is somdel to blame."
"Ah! pees," quod I, "and speke no more
of this; myn herte breketh, now thou touchest any suche wordes!"
"A! wel!" quod she, "thanne let us singen;
thou herest no more of these thinges at this tyme."
Thus endeth the firste book of the Testament of Love;
and herafter foloweth the seconde.