(Skeat)
VERY welth may not be founden in al this worlde; and that is wel sene.
Lo! how in my mooste comfort, as I wende and moost supposed to have had
ful answere of my contrary thoughtes, sodaynly it was vanisshed. And al
the workes of man faren in the same wyse; whan folk wenen best her entent
for to have and willes to perfourme, anon chaunging of the lift syde to
the right halve tourneth it so clene in-to another kynde, that never shal
it come to the first plyte in doinge.
O this wonderful steering so soone otherwysed out of knowinge!
But for my purpos was at the beginninge, and so dureth yet, if god of his
grace tyme wol me graunt, I thinke to perfourme this worke, as I have begonne,
in love; after as my thinne wit, with inspiracion of him that hildeth al
grace, wol suffre. Grevously, god wot, have I suffred a greet throwe that
the Romayne emperour, which in unitè of love shulde acorde, and
every with other **** in cause of other to avaunce; and namely, sithe this
empyre [nedeth] to be corrected of so many sectes in heresie of faith,
of service, o[f] rule in loves religion. Trewly, al were it but to shende
erroneous opinions, I may it no lenger suffre. For many men there ben that
sayn love to be in gravel and sande, that with see ebbinge and flowinge
woweth, as riches that sodaynly vanissheth. And some sayn that love shulde
be in windy blastes, that stoundmele turneth as a phane, and glorie of
renomè, which after lustes of the varyaunt people is areysed or
stilled.
Many also wenen that in the sonne and the moone and other
sterres love shulde ben founden; for among al other planettes moste soveraynly
they shynen, as dignitees in reverence of estates rather than good han
and occupyen. Ful many also there ben that in okes and in huge postes supposen
love to ben grounded, as in strength and in might, whiche mowen not helpen
their owne wrecchidnesse, whan they ginne to falle. But [of] suche diversitè
of sectes, ayenst the rightful beleve of love, these errours ben forth
spredde, that loves servantes in trewe rule and stedfast fayth in no place
daren apere. Thus irrecuperable joy is went, and anoy endless is entred.
For no man aright reproveth suche errours, but [men] confirmen their wordes,
and sayn, that badde is noble good, and goodnesse is badde; to which folk
the prophete biddeth wo without ende.
Also manye tonges of greet false techinges in gylinge maner,
principally in my tymes, not only with wordes but also with armes, loves
servauntes and professe in his religion of trewe rule pursewen, to confounden
and to distroyen. And for as moche as holy *faders, that of our Christen
fayth aproved and strengthed to the Jewes, as to men resonable and of divinitè
lerned, proved thilke fayth with resones, and with auctoritès of
the olde testament and of the newe, her pertinacie to distroy: but to paynims,
that for beestes and houndes were holde, to putte hem out of their errour,
was *miracle of god shewed. These thinges were figured by cominge of th'angel
to the shepherdes, and by the sterre to paynims kinges; as who sayth: angel
resonable to resonable creature, and sterre of miracle to people bestial
not lerned, wern sent to enforme. But I, lovers clerk, in al my conning
and with al my mightes, trewly I have no suche grace in vertue of miracles,
ne for no discomfit falsheedes suffyseth not auctoritès alone; sithen
that suche [arn] heretikes and maintaynours of falsitès. Wherfore
I wot wel, sithen that they ben men, and reson is approved in hem, the
clowde of errour hath her reson beyond probable resons, whiche that cacchende
wit rightfully may not with-sitte. By my travaylinge studie I have ordeyned
hem, *whiche that auctoritè, misglosed by mannes reson, to graunt
shal ben enduced.
Now ginneth my penne to quake, to thinken on the sentences
of the envyous people, whiche alway ben redy, both ryder and goer, to scorne
and to jape this leude book; and me, for rancour and hate in their hertes,
they shullen so dispyse, that although my book be leude, yet shal it ben
more leude holden, and by wicked wordes in many maner apayred. Certes,
me thinketh, [of] the sowne of their badde speche right now is ful bothe
myne eeres. O good precious Margaryte, myne herte shulde wepe if I wiste
ye token hede of suche maner speche; but trewly, I wot wel, in that your
wysdom shal not asterte. For of god, maker of kynde, witnesse I took, that
for none envy ne yvel have I drawe this mater togider; but only for goodnesse
to maintayn, and errours in falsetees to distroy. Wherfore (as I sayd)
with reson I thinke, thilke forsayd errours to distroye and dequace.
These resons and suche other, if they enduce men, in loves
service, trewe to beleve of parfit blisse, yet to ful faithe in credence
of deserte fully mowe they nat suffyse; sithen "faith hath no merite
of mede, whan mannes reson sheweth experience in doing." For utterly
no reson the parfit blisse of love by no waye may make to be comprehended.
Lo! what is a parcel of lovers joye? Parfit science, in good service, of
their desyre to comprehende in bodily doinge the lykinge of the soule;
not as by a glasse to have contemplacion of tyme cominge, but thilke first
imagined and thought after face to face in beholding. What herte, what
reson, what understandinge can make his heven to be feled and knowe, without
assaye in doinge? Certes, noon. Sithen thanne of love cometh suche fruite
in blisse, and love in him-selfe is the most among other vertues, as clerkes
sayn; the seed of suche springinge in al places, in al countreys, in al
worldes shulde ben sowe.
But o! welawaye! thilke seed is forsake, and *mowe not ben
suffred, the lond-tillers to sette a-werke, without medlinge of cockle;
badde wedes whiche somtyme stonken *han caught the name of love among idiotes
and badde-meninge people. Never-the-later, yet how-so-it-be that men clepe
thilke *thing preciousest in kynde, with many eke-names, that other thinges
that the soule yeven the ilke noble name, it sheweth wel that in a maner
men have a greet lykinge in worshippinge of thilke name. Wherfore this
worke have I writte; and to thee, tytled of Loves name, I have it avowed
in a maner of sacrifyse; that, where-ever it be rad, it mowe in merite,
by the excellence of thilke name, the more wexe in authoritè and
worshippe of takinge in hede; and to what entent it was ordayned, the inseëres
mowen ben moved. Every thing to whom is owande occasion don as for his
ende, Aristotle supposeth that the actes of every thinge ben in a maner
his final cause. A final cause is noblerer, or els even as noble, as thilke
thing that is finally to thilke ende; wherfore accion of thinge everlasting
is demed to be eternal, and not temporal; sithen it is his final cause.
Right so the actes of my boke "Love," and love is noble; wherfore,
though my book be leude, the cause with which I am stered, and for whom
I ought it doon, noble forsothe ben bothe. But bycause that in conninge
I am yong, and can yet but crepe, this leude A. b. c. have I set in-to
lerning; for I can not passen the telling of three as yet. And if god wil,
in shorte tyme, I shal amende this leudnesse in joininge syllables; whiche
thing, for dulnesse of witte, I may not in three letters declare. For trewly
I saye, the goodnesse of my Margaryte-perle wolde yeve mater in endyting
to many clerkes; certes, her mercy is more to me swetter than any livinges;
wherfore my lippes mowen not suffyse, in speking of her ful laude and worshippe
as they shulde. But who is that [wolde be wyse] in knowing of the orders
of heven, and putteth his resones in the erthe? I forsothe may not, with
blere eyen, the shyning sonne of vertue in bright whele of this Margaryte
beholde; therfore as yet I may her not discryve in vertue as I wolde. In
tyme cominge, in another tretyse, thorow goddes grace, this sonne in clerenesse
of vertue to be-knowe, and how she enlumineth al this day, I thinke to
declare.
IN this mene whyle this comfortable lady gan singe a wonder mater of
endytinge in Latin; but trewly, the noble colours in rethorik wyse knitte
were so craftely, that my conning wol not strecche to remembre; but the
sentence, I trowe, somdel have I in mynde. Certes, they were wonder swete
of sowne, and they were touched al in lamentacion wyse, and by no werbles
of myrthe. Lo! thus gan she singe in Latin, as I may constrewe it in our
Englisshe tonge.
"Alas! that these hevenly bodyes their light and course
shewen, as nature yave hem in commaundement at the ginning of the first
age; but these thinges in free choice of reson han non understondinge.
But man that ought to passe al thing of doinge, of right course in kynde,
over-whelmed sothnesse by wrongful tytle, and hath drawen the sterre of
envye to gon by his syde, that the clips of me, that shulde be his shynande
sonne, so ofte is seye, that it wened thilke errour, thorow hem come in,
shulde ben myn owne defaute. Trewly, therfore, I have me withdrawe, and
mad my dwellinge out of lande in an yle by my-selfe, in the occian closed;
and yet sayn there many, they have me harberowed; but, god wot, they faylen.
These thinges me greven to thinke, and namely on passed gladnesse, that
in this worlde was wont me disporte of highe and lowe; and now it is fayled;
they that wolden maystries me have in thilke stoundes. In heven on highe,
above Saturnes sphere, in sesonable tyme were they lodged; but now come
queynte counsailours that in no house wol suffre me sojourne, wherof is
pitè; and yet sayn some that they me have in celler with wyne shed;
in gernere, there corn is layd covered with whete; in sacke, sowed with
wolle; in purse, with money faste knit; among pannes mouled in a *whicche;
in presse, among clothes layd, with riche pelure arayed; in stable, among
hors and other beestes, as hogges, sheep, and neet; and in many other wyse.
But thou, maker of light (in winking of thyn eye the sonne is queynt),
wost right wel that I in trewe name was never thus herberowed.
Somtyme, toforn the sonne in the seventh partie was smiten,
I bar both crosse and mytre, to yeve it where I wolde. With me the pope
wente a-fote; and I tho was worshipped of al holy church. Kinges baden
me their crownes holden. The law was set as it shuld; tofore the juge,
as wel the poore durste shewe his greef as the riche, for al his money.
I defended tho taylages, and was redy for the poore to paye. I made grete
feestes in my tyme, and noble songes, and maryed damoselles of gentil feture,
withouten golde or other richesse. Poore clerkes, for witte of schole,
I sette in churches, and made suche persones to preche; and tho was service
in holy churche honest and devout, in plesaunce bothe of god and of the
people. But now the leude for symonye is avaunced, and shendeth al holy
churche. Now is steward, for his achates; now *is courtiour, for his debates;
now is eschetour, for his wronges; now is losel, for his songes, personer;
and [hath his] provendre alone, with whiche manye thrifty shulde encrese.
And yet is this shrewe behynde; free herte is forsake; and losengeour is
take. Lo! it acordeth; for suche there ben that voluntarie lustes haunten
in courte with ribaudye, that til midnight and more wol playe and wake,
but in the churche at matins he is behynde, for yvel disposicion of his
stomake; therfore he shulde ete bene-breed (and so did his syre) his estate
ther-with to strengthen. His auter is broke, and lowe lyth, in poynte to
gon to the erthe; but his hors muste ben esy and hye, to bere him over
grete waters. His chalice poore, but he hath riche cuppes. No towayle but
a shete, there god shal ben handled; and on his mete-borde there shal ben
bordclothes and towelles many payre. At masse serveth but a clergion; fyve
squiers in hal. Poore chaunsel, open holes in every syde; beddes of silke,
with tapites going al aboute his chambre. Poore masse-book and leud chapelayn,
and broken surplice with many an hole; good houndes and many, to hunte
after hart and hare, to fede in their feestes. Of poore men have they greet
care; for they ever crave and nothing offren, they wolden have hem dolven!
But among legistres there dar I not come; my doinge[s], they sayn, maken
hem nedy. They ne wolde for nothing have me in town; for than were tort
and *force nought worth an hawe about, and plesen no men, but thilk grevous
and torcious ben in might and in doing. These thinges to-forn-sayd mowe
wel, if men liste, ryme; trewly, they acorde nothing. And for-as-moch as
al thinges by me shulden of right ben governed, I am sory to see that governaunce
fayleth, as thus: to sene smale and lowe governe the hye and bodies above.
Certes, that policye is naught; it is forbode by them that of governaunce
treten and enformen. And right as beestly wit shulde ben subject to reson,
so erthly power in it-selfe, the lower shulde ben subject to the hygher.
What is worth thy body, but it be governed with thy soule? Right so litel
or naught is worth erthely power, but if reignatif prudence in heedes governe
the smale; to whiche heedes the smale owen to obey and suffre in their
governaunce. But soverainnesse ayenward shulde thinke in this wyse: `I
am servaunt of these creatures to me delivered, not lord, but defendour;
not mayster, but enfourmer; not possessour, but in possession; and to hem
liche a tree in whiche sparowes shullen stelen, her birdes to norisshe
and forth bringe, under suretee ayenst al raveynous foules and beestes,
and not to be tyraunt them-selfe.' And than the smale, in reste and quiete,
by the heedes wel disposed, owen for their soveraynes helth and prosperitè
to pray, and in other doinges in maintenaunce therof performe, withouten
other administracion in rule of any maner governaunce. And they wit have
in hem, and grace to come to suche thinges, yet shulde they cese til their
heedes them cleped, although profit and plesaunce shulde folowe. But trewly,
other governaunce ne other medlinge ought they not to clayme, ne the heedes
on hem to putte. Trewly, amonges cosinage dar I not come, but-if richesse
be my mene; sothly, she and other bodily goodes maketh nigh cosinage, ther
never propinquitè ne alyaunce in lyve was ne shulde have be, nere
it for her medling maners; wherfore kindly am I not ther leged. Povert
of kinred is behynde; richesse suffreth him to passe; truly he saith, he
com never of Japhetes childre. Whereof I am sory that Japhetes children,
for povert, in no linage ben rekened, and Caynes children, for riches,
be maked Japhetes heires. Alas! this is a wonder chaunge bitwene tho two
Noës children, sithen that of Japhetes ofspring comeden knightes,
and of Cayn discended the lyne of servage to his brothers childre. Lo!
how gentillesse and servage, as cosins, bothe discended out of two brethern
of one body! Wherfore I saye in sothnesse, that gentilesse kinrede *maketh
not gentil linage in succession, without desert of a mans own selfe. Where
is now the lyne of Alisaundre the noble, or els of Hector of Troye? Who
is discended of right bloode of lyne fro king Artour? Pardè, sir
Perdicas, whom that Alisandre made to ben his heire in Grece, was of no
kinges bloode; his dame was a tombestere. Of what kinred ben the gentiles
in our dayes? I trow therfore, if any good be in gentilesse, it is only
that it semeth a maner of necessitè be input to gentilmen, that
they shulden not varyen fro the vertues of their auncestres. Certes, al
maner linage of men ben evenliche in birth; for oon *fader, maker of al
goodnes, enformed hem al, and al mortal folk of one sede arn greyned. Wherto
avaunt men of her linage, in cosinage or in *elde-faders? Loke now the
ginning, and to god, maker of mans person; there is no clerk ne no worthy
in gentilesse; and he that norissheth his *corage with vyces and unresonable
lustes, and leveth the kynde course, to whiche ende him brought forth his
birthe, trewly, he is ungentil, and among *cherles may ben nempned. And
therfore, he that wol ben gentil, he mot daunten his flesshe fro vyces
that causen ungentilnesse, and leve also reignes of wicked lustes, and
drawe to him vertue, that in al places gentilnesse gentilmen maketh. And
so speke I, in feminine gendre in general, of tho persones, at the reverence
of one whom every wight honoureth; for her bountee and her noblesse y-made
her to god so dere, that his moder she became; and she me hath had so greet
in worship, that I nil for nothing in open declare, that in any thinge
ayenst her secte may so wene. For al vertue and al worthinesse of plesaunce
in hem hahoundeth. And although I wolde any-thing speke, trewly I can not;
I may fynde in yvel of hem no maner mater."
RIGHT with these wordes she stinte of that lamentable melodye; and I
gan with a lyvely herte to praye, if that it were lyking unto her noble
grace, she wolde her deyne to declare me the mater that firste was begonne,
in which she lefte and stinte to speke beforn she gan to singe.
"0," quod she, "this is no newe thing to me,
to sene you men desyren after mater, whiche your-selfe caused to voyde."
"Ah, good lady," quod I, "in whom victorie
of strength is proved above al other thing, after the jugement of Esdram,
whos lordship al lignes: who is, that right as emperour hem commaundeth,
whether thilke ben not women, in whos lyknesse to me ye aperen? For right
as man halt the principaltè of al thing under his beinge, in the
masculyne gender; and no mo genders ben there but masculyn and femenyne;
al the remenaunt ben no gendres but of grace, in facultee of grammer: right
so, in the femenyne, the women holden the upperest degree of al thinges
under thilke gendre conteyned. Who bringeth forth kinges, whiche that ben
lordes of see and of erthe; and al peoples of women ben born. They norisshe
hem that graffen vynes; they maken men comfort in their gladde cheres.
Her sorowe is deth to mannes herte. Without women, the being of men were
impossible. They conne with their swetnesse the crewel herte ravisshe,
and make it meke, buxom, and benigne, without violence mevinge. In beautee
of their eyen, or els of other maner fetures, is al mens desyres; ye, more
than in golde, precious stones, either any richesse. And in this degree,
lady, your-selfe many hertes of men have so bounden, that parfit blisse
in womankynde to ben men wenen and in nothinge els. Also, lady, the goodnesse,
the vertue of women, by propertè of discrecion, is so wel knowen,
by litelnesse of malice, that desyre to a good asker by no waye conne they
warne. And ye thanne, that wol not passe the kynde werchinge of your sectes
by general discrecion, I wot wel, ye wol so enclyne to my prayere, that
grace of my requeste shal fully ben graunted."
"Certes," quod she, "thus for the more parte
fareth al mankynde, to praye and to crye after womans grace, and fayne
many fantasyes to make hertes enclyne to your desyres. And whan these sely
women, for freeltè of their kynde, beleven your wordes, and wenen
al be gospel the promise of your behestes, than graunt[en] they to you
their hertes, and fulfillen your lustes, wherthrough their libertè
in maystreship that they toforn had is thralled; and so maked soverayn
and to be prayed, that first was servaunt, and voice of prayer used. Anon
as filled is your lust, many of you be so trewe, that litel hede take ye
of suche kyndnesse; but with traysoun anon ye thinke hem begyle, and let
light of that thing whiche firste ye maked to you wonders dere; so what
thing to women it is to loven any wight er she him wel knowe, and have
him proved in many halfe! For every glittring thing is nat gold; and under
colour of fayre speche many vices may be hid and conseled. Therfore I rede
no wight to trust on you to rathe; mens chere and her speche right gyleful
is ful ofte. Wherfore without good assay, it is nat worth on many *of you
to truste. Trewly, it is right kyndely to every man that thinketh women
betraye, and shewen outward al goodnesse, til he have his wil performed.
Lo! the bird is begyled with the mery voice of the foulers whistel. Whan
a woman is closed in your nette, than wol ye causes fynden, and bere unkyndenesse
her *on hande, or falsetè upon her putte, your owne malicious trayson
with suche thinge to excuse. Lo! than han women non other wreche in vengeaunce,
but *blobere and wepe til hem list stint, and sorily her mishap complayne;
and is put in-to wening that al men ben so untrewe. How often have men
chaunged her loves in a litel whyle, or els, for fayling their wil, in
their places hem set! For fren[d]ship shal be oon, and fame with another
him list for to have, and a thirde for delyt; or els were he lost bothe
in packe and in clothes! Is this fair? Nay, god wot. I may nat telle, by
thousande partes, the wronges in trechery of suche false people; for make
they never so good a bond, al sette ye at a myte whan your hert tourneth.
And they that wenen for sorowe of you deye, the pitè of your false
herte is flowe out of towne. Alas! therfore, that ever any woman wolde
take any wight in her grace, til she knowe, at the ful, on whom she might
at al assayes truste! Women con no more craft in queynt knowinge, to understande
the false disceyvable conjectementes of mannes begylinges. Lo! how it fareth;
though ye men gronen and cryen, certes, it is but disceyt; and that preveth
wel by th'endes in your werkinge. How many women have ben lorn, and with
shame foule shent by long-lastinge tyme, whiche thorow mennes gyle have
ben disceyved? Ever their fame shal dure, and their dedes [ben] rad and
songe in many londes; that they han don, recoveren shal they never; but
alway ben demed lightly, in suche plyte a-yen shulde they falle. Of whiche
slaunders and tenes ye false men and wicked ben the verey causes; on you
by right ought these shames and these reproves al hoolly discende. Thus
arn ye al nighe untrewe; for al your fayre speche, your herte is ful fickel.
What cause han ye women to dispyse? Better fruite than they ben, ne swetter
spyces to your behove, mowe ye not fynde, as far as worldly bodyes strecchen.
Loke to their forminge, at the making of their persones by god in joye
of paradyce! For goodnesse, of mans propre body were they maked, after
the sawes of the bible, rehersing goddes wordes in this wyse: `It is good
to mankynde that we make to him an helper.' Lo! in paradyse, for your helpe,
was this tree graffed, out of whiche al linage of man discendeth. If a
man be noble frute, of noble frute it is sprongen; the blisse of paradyse,
to mennes sory hertes, yet in this tree abydeth. O! noble helpes ben these
trees, and gentil jewel to ben worshipped of every good creature! He that
hem anoyeth doth his owne shame; it is a comfortable perle ayenst al tenes.
Every company is mirthed by their present being. Trewly, I wiste never
vertue, but a woman were therof the rote. What is heven the worse though
Sarazins on it lyen? Is your fayth untrewe, though *renegates maken theron
lesinges? If the fyr doth any wight brenne, blame his owne wit that put
him-selfe so far in the hete. Is not fyr gentillest and most comfortable
element amonges al other? Fyr is cheef werker in fortheringe sustenaunce
to mankynde. Shal fyr ben blamed for it brende a foole naturelly, by his
own stulty witte in steringe? Ah! wicked folkes! For your propre malice
and shreudnesse of your-selfe, ye blame and dispyse the precious[es]t thing
of your kynde, and whiche thinges among other moste ye desyren! Trewly,
Nero and his children ben shrewes, that dispysen so their dames. The wickednesse
and gyling of men, in disclaundring of thilke that most hath hem glad[d]ed
and plesed, were impossible to wryte or to nempne. Never-the-later yet
I say, he that knoweth a way may it lightly passe; eke an herbe proved
may safely to smertande sores ben layd. So I say, in him that is proved
is nothing suche yvels to gesse. But these thinges have I rehersed, to
warne you women al at ones, that to lightly, without good assaye, ye assenten
not to mannes speche. The sonne in the day-light is to knowen from the
moone that shyneth in the night. Now to thee thy-selfe (quod she) as I
have ofte sayd, I knowe wel thyne herte; thou art noon of al the tofore-nempned
people. For I knowe wel the continuaunce of thy service, that never sithen
I sette thee a-werke, might thy Margaryte for plesaunce, frendship, ne
fayrhede of none other, be in poynte moved from thyne herte; wherfore in-to
myne housholde hastely I wol that thou entre, and al the parfit privitè
of my werking, make it be knowe in thy understonding, as oon of my privy
familiers. Thou desyrest (quod she) fayn to here of tho thinges there I
lefte?"
"Ye, forsothe," quod I, "that were to me a
greet blisse."
"Now," quod she, "for thou shalt not wene that
womans condicions for fayre speche suche thing belongeth:--
THOU shalt," quod she, "understonde first among al other thinges,
that al the cure of my service to me in the parfit blisse in doing is desyred
in every mannes herte, be he never so moche a wrecche; but every man travayleth
by dyvers studye, and seke[th] thilke blisse by dyvers wayes. But al the
endes are knit in selinesse of desyre in the parfit blisse, that is suche
joye, whan men it have gotten, there *leveth no thing more to ben coveyted.
But how that desyre of suche perfeccion in my service be kindely set in
lovers hertes, yet her erroneous opinions misturne it by falsenesse of
wening. And although mannes understanding be misturned, to knowe whiche
shuld ben the way unto my person, and whither it abydeth; yet wote they
there is a love in every wight, [whiche] weneth by that thing that he coveyteth
most, he shulde come to thilke love; and that is parfit blisse of my servauntes;
but than fulle blisse may not be, and there lacke any thing of that blisse
in any syde. Eke it foloweth than, that he that must have ful blisse lacke
no blisse in love on no syde."
"Therfore, lady," quod I tho, "thilke blisse
I have desyred, and *soghte toforn this my-selfe, by wayes of riches, of
dignitè, of power, and of renomè, wening me in tho *thinges
had ben thilke blisse; but ayenst the heer it turneth. Whan I supposed
beste thilke blisse have *getten, and come to the ful purpose of your service,
sodaynly was I hindred, and throwen so fer abacke, that me thinketh an
inpossible to come there I lefte."
"I *wot wel," quod she; "and therfore hast
thou fayled; for thou wentest not by the hye way. A litel misgoing in the
ginning causeth mikil errour in the ende; wherfore of thilke blisse thou
fayledest, for having of richesse; ne non of the other thinges thou nempnedest
mowen nat make suche parfit blisse in love as I shal shewe. Therfore they
be nat worthy to thilke blisse; and yet somwhat must ben cause and way
to thilke blisse. Ergo, there is som suche thing, and som way, but
it is litel in usage and that is nat openly y-knowe. But what felest in
thyne hert of the service, in whiche by me thou art entred? Wenest aught
thyselfe yet be in the hye way to my blisse? I shal so shewe it to thee,
thou shalt not conne saye the contrary."
"Good lady," quod I, "altho I suppose it in
my herte, yet wolde I here thyn wordes, how ye menen in this mater."
Quod she, "that I shal, with my good wil. Thilke blisse
desyred, som-del ye knowen, altho it be nat parfitly. For kyndly entencion
ledeth you therto, but in three maner livinges is al suche wayes shewed.
Every wight in this world, to have this blisse, oon of thilke three wayes
of lyves must procede; whiche, after opinions of grete clerkes, are by
names cleped bestiallich, resonablich, [and manlich. Resonablich] is vertuous.
Manlich is worldlich. Bestialliche is lustes and delytable, nothing restrayned
by bridel of reson. Al that joyeth and yeveth gladnesse to the hert, and
it be ayenst reson, is lykened to bestial living, which thing foloweth
lustes and delytes; wherfore in suche thinge may nat that precious blisse,
that is maister of al vertues, abyde. Your *faders toforn you have cleped
such lusty livinges after the flessh "passions of desyre," which
are innominable tofore god and man both. Than, after determinacion of suche
wyse, we accorden that suche passions of desyre shul nat be nempned, but
holden for absolute from al other livinges and provinges; and so *leveth
in t[w]o livinges, manlich and resonable, to declare the maters begonne.
But to make thee fully have understanding in manlich livinges, whiche is
holden worldlich in these thinges, so that ignorance be mad no letter,
I wol (quod she) nempne these forsayd wayes *by names and conclusions.
First riches, dignitè, renomè, and power shul in this worke
be cleped bodily goodes; for in hem hath ben, a gret throw, mannes trust
of selinesse in love: as in riches, suffisance to have maintayned that
was begonne by worldly catel; in dignitè, honour and reverence of
hem that wern underput by maistry therby to obeye. In renomè, glorie
of peoples praising, after lustes in their hert, without hede-taking to
qualitè and maner of doing; and in power, by trouth of lordships
mayntenaunce, thing to procede forth in doing. In al whiche thinges a longe
tyme mannes coveytise in commune hath ben greetly grounded, to come to
the blisse of my service; but trewly, they were begyled, and for the principal
muste nedes fayle, and in helping mowe nat availe. See why. For holdest
him not poore that is nedy?"
"Yes, pardè," quod I.
"And him for dishonored, that moche folk deyne nat to
reverence?"
"That is soth," quod I.
"And what him, that his mightes faylen and mowe nat helpen?"
"Certes," quod I, "me semeth, of al men he
shulde be holden a wrecche."
"And wenest nat," quod she, "that he that is
litel in renomè, but rather is out of the praysinges of mo men than
a fewe, be nat in shame?"
"For soth," quod I, "it is shame and villany,
to him that coveyteth renomè, that more folk nat prayse in name
than preise."
"Soth," quod she, "thou sayst soth; but al
these thinges are folowed of suche maner doinge, and wenden in riches suffisaunce,
in power might, in dignitè worship, and in renom‚ glorie; wherfore
they discended in-to disceyvable wening, and in that service disceit is
folowed. And thus, in general, thou and al suche other that so worchen,
faylen of my blisse that ye long han desyred. Wherfore truly, in lyfe of
reson is the hye way to this blisse; as I thinke more openly to declare
herafter. Never-the-later yet, in a litel to comforte thy herte, in shewing
of what waye thou art entred thy-selfe, and that thy Margarite may knowe
thee set in the hye way, I wol enforme thee in this wyse. Thou hast fayled
of thy first purpos, bicause thou wentest wronge and leftest the hye way
on thy right syde, as thus: thou lokedest on worldly living, and that thing
thee begyled; and lightly therfore, as a litel assay, thou songedest; but
whan I turned thy purpos, and shewed thee a part of the hye waye, tho thou
abode therin, and no deth ne ferdnesse of non enemy might thee out of thilk
way reve; but ever oon in thyn herte, to come to the ilke blisse, whan
thou were arested and firste tyme enprisoned, thou were loth to chaunge
thy way, for in thy hert thou wendest to have ben there thou shuldest.
And for I had routhe to sene thee miscaried, and wiste wel thyn ablenesse
my service to forther and encrese, I com my-selfe, without other mene,
to visit thy person in comfort of thy hert. And perdy, in my comming thou
were greetly glad[d]ed; after whiche tyme no disese, no care, no tene,
might move me out of thy hert. And yet am I glad and greetly enpited, how
continually thou haddest me in mynde, with good avysement of thy conscience,
whan thy king and his princes by huge wordes and grete loked after variaunce
in thy speche; and ever thou were redy for my sake, in plesaunce of the
Margarite-perle and many mo other, thy body to oblige in-to Marces doing,
if any contraried thy sawes. Stedfast way maketh stedfast hert, with good
hope in the ende. Trewly, I wot that thou it wel knowe; for I see thee
so set, and not chaunginge herte haddest in my service; and I made thou
haddest grace of thy kinge, in foryevenesse of mikel misdede. To the gracious
king art thou mikel holden, of whos grace and goodnesse somtyme hereafter
I thinke thee enforme, whan I shew the ground where-as moral vertue groweth.
Who brought thee to werke? Who brought this grace aboute? Who made thy
hert hardy? Trewly, it was I. For haddest thou of me fayled, than of this
purpos had[dest thou] never taken [hede] in this wyse. And therfore I say,
thou might wel truste to come to thy blisse, sithen thy ginninge hath ben
hard, but ever graciously after thy hertes desyr hath proceded. Silver
fyned with many hetes men knowen for trew; and safely men may trust to
the alay in werkinge. This *disese hath proved what way hence-forward thou
thinkest to holde."
"Now, in good fayth, lady," quod I tho, "I
am now in; me semeth, it is the hye way and the right."
"Ye, forsothe," quod she, "and now I wol disprove
thy first wayes, by whiche many men wenen to gette thilke blisse. But for-as-moche
as every herte that hath caught ful love, is tyed with queynt knittinges,
thou shalt understande that love and thilke foresayd blisse toforn declared
in this[e] provinges, shal hote the knot in the hert.
"Wel," quod I, "this inpossession I wol wel
understande."
"Now also," quod she, "for the knotte in the
herte muste ben from one to an-other, and I knowe thy desyr, I wol thou
understande these maters to ben sayd of thy-selfe, in disproving of thy
first service, and in strengthinge of thilke that thou hast undertake to
thy Margaryte-perle."
"A goddes halfe," quod I, "right wel
I fele that al this case is possible and trewe; and therfore I *admitte
it altogither."
"*Understand wel," quod she, "these termes,
and loke nocontradiccion thou graunt."
"If god wol," quod I, "of al these thinges
wol I not fayle; and if I graunt contradiccion, I shulde graunte an impossible;
and that were a foul inconvenience; for whiche thinges, lady, y-wis, herafter
I thinke me to kepe."
"WEL," quod she, "thou knowest that every thing is a
cause, wherthrough any thing hath being that is cleped `caused.' Than,
if richesse *causeth knot in herte, thilke richesse *is cause of thilke
precious thinge being. But after the sentence of Aristotle, every cause
is more in dignitè than his thinge caused; wherthrough it foloweth
richesse to ben more in dignitè than thilke knot. But richesses
arn kyndely naughty, badde, and nedy; and thilke knotte is thing kyndely
good, most praysed and desyred. Ergo, thing naughty, badde, and
nedy in kyndely understandinge is more worthy than thing kyndely good,
most desyred and praysed! The consequence is fals; nedes, the antecedent
mot ben of the same condicion. But that richesses ben bad, naughty, and
nedy, that wol I prove; wherfore they mowe cause no suche thing that is
so glorious and good. The more richesse thou hast, the more nede hast thou
of helpe hem to kepe. Ergo, thou nedest in richesse, whiche nede
thou shuldest not have, if thou hem wantest. Than muste richesse ben nedy,
that in their having maken thee nedy to helpes, in suretee thy richesse
to kepen; wherthrough foloweth, richesse to ben nedy. Everything causinge
yvels is badde and naughty; but richesse in one causen misese, in another
they mowen not evenly strecchen al about. Wherof cometh plee, debat, thefte,
begylinges, but richesse to winne; whiche thinges ben badde, and by richesse
arn caused. Ergo, thilke richesse[s] ben badde; whiche badnesse
and nede ben knit in-to richesse by a maner of kyndely propertee; and every
cause and caused accorden; so that it foloweth, thilke richesse[s] to have
the same accordaunce with badnesse and nede, that their cause asketh. Also,
every thing hath his being by his cause; than, if the cause be distroyed,
the being of caused is vanisshed. And, so, if richesse[s] causen love,
and richesse[s] weren distroyed, the love shulde vanisshe; but thilke knotte,
and it be trewe, may not vanisshe, for no going of richesse. Ergo,
richesse is no cause of the knot. And many men, as I sayd, setten the cause
of the knotte in richesse; thilke knitten the richesse, and nothing the
yvel; thilke persons, what-ever they ben, wenen that riches is most worthy
to be had; and that make they the cause; and so wene they thilke riches
be better than the person. Commenly, suche asken rather after the quantitè
than after the qualitè; and suche wenen, as wel by hem-selfe as
by other, that conjunccion of his lyfe and of his soule is no more precious,
but in as mikel as he hath of richesse. Alas! how may he holden suche thinges
precious or noble, that neither han lyf ne soule, ne ordinaunce of werchinge
limmes! Suche richesse[s] ben more worthy whan they ben in *gadering; in
departing, ginneth his love of other mennes praysing. And avarice *gadering
maketh be hated, and nedy to many out-helpes; and whan leveth the possession
of such goodes, and they ginne vanissh, than entreth sorowe and tene in
their hertes. O! badde and strayte ben thilke, that at their departinge
maketh men teneful and sory, and in the *gadering of hem make men nedy!
Moche folk at ones mowen not togider moche therof have. A good gest gladdeth
his hoste and al his meyny; but he is a badde gest that maketh his hoste
nedy and to be aferd of his gestes going."
"Certes," quod I, "me wondreth therfore that
the comune opinion is thus: `He is worth no more than that he hath in catel.'"
"O!" quod she, "loke thou be not of that opinion;
for if gold or money, or other maner of riches shynen in thy sight, whos
is that? Nat thyn. And tho[ugh] they have a litel beautee, they be nothing
in comparison of our kynde; and therfore, ye shulde nat sette your worthinesse
in thing lower than your-selfe. For the riches, the fairnesse, the worthinesse
of thilke goodes, if ther be any suche preciousnesse in hem, are nat thyne;
thou madest hem so never; from other they come to thee, and to other they
shul from thee. Wherfore enbracest thou other wightes good, as tho[ugh]
they were thyn? Kynde hath drawe hem by hem-selfe. It is sothe, the goodes
of the erth ben ordayned in your fode and norisshinge; but if thou wolt
holde thee apayd with that suffyseth to thy kynde, thou shalt nat be in
daunger of no suche riches; to kynde suffyseth litel thing, who that taketh
hede. And if thou wolt algates with superfluitè of riches be a-throted,
thou shalt hastelich be anoyed, or els yvel at ese. And fairnesse of feldes
ne of habitacions, ne multitude of meynè, may nat be rekened as
riches that are thyn owne. For if they be badde, it is greet sclaunder
and villany to the occupyer; and if they be good or faire, the mater of
the workman that hem made is to prayse. How shulde other-wyse bountee be
compted for thyne? Thilke goodnesse and fairnesse be proper to tho thinges
hem-selfe; than, if they be nat thyne, sorow nat whan they wende, ne glad
thee nat in pompe and in pride whan thou hem hast. For their bountee and
their beautees cometh out of their owne kynde, and nat of thyne owne person.
As faire ben they in their not having as whan thou hast hem. They be nat
faire for thou hast hem; but thou hast geten hem for the fairnesse of them-selfe.
And there the vaylance of men is demed in richesse outforth, wenen me[n]
to have no proper good in them-selfe, but seche it in straunge thinges.
Trewly, the condicion of good wening is to thee mistourned, to wene, your
noblesse be not in your-selfe, but in the goodes and beautee of other thinges.
Pardy, the beestes that han but feling soules, have suffisaunce in their
owne selfe; and ye, that ben lyke to god, seken encrese of suffisaunce
from so excellent a kynde of so lowe thinges; ye do greet wrong to him
that you made lordes over al erthly thinges; and ye putte your worthinesse
under the nombre of the fete of lower thinges and foule. Whan ye juge thilke
riches to be your worthinesse, than putte ye your-selfe, by estimacion,
under thilke foule thinges; and than leve ye the knowing of your-selfe;
so be ye viler than any dombe beest; that cometh of shrewde vice. Right
so thilke persons that loven non yvel for dereworthinesse of the persone,
but for straunge goodes, and saith, the adornement in the knot lyth in
such thing; his errour is perilous and shrewd, and he wryeth moche venim
with moche welth; and that knot may nat be good whan he hath it getten.
Certes, thus hath riches with flickering sight anoyed many;
and often, whan there is a throw-out shrewe, he coyneth al the gold, al
the precious stones that mowen be founden, to have in his bandon; he weneth
no wight be worthy to have suche thinges but he alone. How many hast thou
knowe, now in late tyme, that in their richesse supposed suffisance have
folowed, and now it is al fayled!"
"Ye, lady," quod I, "that is for mis medling;
and otherwyse governed [they] thilke richesse than they shulde."
"Ye," quod she tho, "had not the flood greetly
areysed, and throwe to-hemward both gravel and sand, he had mad no medlinge.
And right as see yeveth flood, so draweth see ebbe, and pulleth ayen under
wawe al the firste out-throwe, but-if good pyles of noble governaunce in
love, in wel-meninge maner, ben sadly grounded; *the whiche holde thilke
gravel as for a tyme, that ayen lightly mowe not it turne; and if the pyles
ben trewe, the gravel and sand wol abyde. And certes, ful warning in love
shalt thou never thorow hem get ne cover, that lightly with an ebbe, er
thou be ware, it [ne] wol ayen meve. In richesse many men have had tenes
and diseses, whiche they shulde not have had, if therof they had fayled.
Thorow whiche, now declared, partly it is shewed, that for richesse shulde
the knotte in herte neither ben caused in one ne in other; trewly, knotte
may ben knit, and I trowe more stedfast, in love, though richesse fayled;
and els, in richesse is the knotte, and not in herte. And than suche a
knotte is fals; whan the see ebbeth and withdraweth the gravel, that such
richesse voydeth, thilke knotte wol unknitte. Wherfore no trust, no way,
no cause, no parfit being is in richesse, of no suche knotte. Therfore
another way muste we have.
HONOUR in dignitè is wened to yeven a ful knot."
"Ye, certes," quod I, "and of that opinion
ben many; for they sayn, dignitè, with honour and reverence, causen
hertes to encheynen, and so abled to be knit togither, for the excellence
in soverayntè of such degrees."
"Now," quod she, "if dignitè, honour,
and reverence causen thilke knotte in herte, this knot is good and profitable.
For every cause of a cause is cause of thing caused. Than thus: good thinges
and profitable ben by dignitè, honour, and reverence caused. Ergo,
they accorden; and dignites ben good with reverences and honour. But contraries
mowen not accorden. Wherfore, by reson, there shulde no dignitee, no reverence,
non honour acorde with shrewes. But that is fals; they have ben cause to
shrewes in many shreudnes; for with hem they accorden. Ergo, from
beginning to argue ayenward til it come to the laste conclusion, they are
not cause of the knot. Lo, al day at eye arn shrewes not in reverence,
in honour, and in dignitè? Yes, forsothe, rather than the good.
Than foloweth it that shrewes rather than good shul ben cause of this knot.
But of this [the] contrarie of al lovers is bileved, and for a sothe openly
determined to holde."
"Now," quod I, "fayn wolde I here, how suche
dignitees acorden with shrewes."
"0," quod she, "that wol I shewe in manifolde
wyse. Ye wene (quod she) that dignites of office here in your citè
is as the sonne; it shyneth bright withouten any cloude; [of] whiche thing,
whan they comen in the handes of malicious tirauntes, there cometh moche
harm, and more grevaunce therof than of the wilde fyre, though it brende
al a strete. Certes, in dignitè of office, the werkes of the occupyer
shewen the malice and the badnesse in the person; with shrewes they maken
manyfolde harmes, and moche people shamen. How often han rancours, for
malice of the governour, shulde ben mainteyned? Hath not than suche dignitees
caused debat, rumours, and yvels? Yes, god wot, by suche thinges have ben
trusted to make mens understanding enclyne to many queynte thinges. Thou
wottest wel what I mene."
"Ye," quod I, "therfore, as dignitè
suche thing in tene y-wrought, so ayenward, the substaunce in dignitè
chaunged, relyed to bring ayen good plyte in doing."
"Do way, do way," quod she; "if it so betyde,
but that is selde, that suche dignitè is betake in a good mannes
governaunce, what thing is to recken in the dignitees goodnesse? Pardè,
the bountee and goodnesse is hers that usen it in good governaunce; and
therfore cometh it that honour and reverence shulde ben don to dignitè
bycause of encresinge vertue in the occupyer, and not to the ruler bycause
of soverayntee in dignitè. Sithen dignitè may no vertue cause,
who is worthy worship for suche goodnesse? Not dignitè, but person,
that maketh goodnesse in dignitè to shyne."
"This is wonder thing," quod I; "for me thinketh,
as the person in dignitè is worthy honour for goodnesse, so, tho[ugh]
a person for badnesse ma[u]gree hath deserved, yet the dignitè leneth
to be commended."
"Let be," quod she, "thou errest right foule;
dignitè with badnesse is helper to performe the felonous doing.
Pardy, were it kyndly good, or any propertè of kyndly vertue [that
men] hadden in hem-selfe, shrewes shulde hem never have; with hem shulde
they never accorde. Water and fyr, that ben contrarious, mowen nat togider
ben assembled; kynde wol nat suffre suche contraries to joyne. And sithen
at eye, by experience in doing, we seen that shrewes have hem more often
than good men, siker mayst thou be, that kyndly good in suche thing is
nat appropred. Pardy, were they kyndly good, as wel oon as other shulden
evenlich in vertue of governaunce ben worthe; but oon fayleth in goodnesse,
another doth the contrary; and so it sheweth, kyndly goodnesse in dignitè
nat be grounded. And this same reson (quod she) may be mad, in general,
on al the bodily goodes; for they comen ofte to throw-out shrewes. After
this, he is strong that hath might to have grete burthens, and he is light
and swifte, that hath soveraintè in ronning to passe other; right
so he is a shrewe, on whom shreude thinges and badde han most werchinge.
And right as philosophy maketh philosophers, and my service maketh lovers,
right so, if dignites weren good or vertuous, they shulde maken shrewes
good, and turne her malice, and make hem be vertuous. But that they do
nat, as it is proved, but causen rancour and debat. Ergo, they be
nat good, but utterly badde. Had Nero never ben Emperour, shulde never
his dame have be slayn, to maken open the privitè of his engendrure.
Herodes, for his dignitè, slew many children. The dignitè
of king John wolde have distroyed al England. Therfore mokel wysdom and
goodnesse both, nedeth in a person, the malice in dignitè slyly
to brydel, and with a good bitte of arest to withdrawe, in case it wolde
praunce otherwyse than it shulde. Trewly, ye yeve to dignites wrongful
names in your cleping. They shulde hete, nat dignitè, but moustre
of badnesse and mayntenour of shrewes. Pardy, shyne the sonne never so
bright, and it bringe forth no hete, ne sesonably the herbes out-bringe
of the erthe, but suffre frostes and cold, and the erthe barayne to ligge
by tyme of his compas in circute about, ye wolde wonder, and dispreyse
that sonne! If the mone be at ful, and sheweth no light, but derke and
dimme to your sight appereth, and make distruccion of the waters, wol ye
nat suppose it be under cloude or in clips, and that som prevy thing, unknowen
to your wittes, is cause of suche contrarious doinge? Than, if clerkes,
that han ful insight and knowing of suche impedimentes, enforme you of
the sothe, very idiottes ye ben, but-if ye yeven credence to thilk clerkes
wordes. And yet it doth me tene, to sene many wrecches rejoycen in such
maner planettes. Trewly, litel con[ne] they on philosophy, or els on my
lore, that any desyr haven suche lightinge planettes in that wyse any more
to shewe."
"Good lady," quod I, "tel me how ye mene in
these thinges."
"Lo," quod she, "the dignites of your citè,
sonne and mone, nothing in kynde shew their shyning as they shulde. For
the sonne made no brenning hete in love, but freesed envye in mennes hertes,
for feblenesse of shyning hete; and the moone was about, under an olde
cloude, the livinges by waters to distroye."
"Lady," quod I, "it is supposed they had shyned
as they shulde."
"Ye," quod she, "but now it is proved at the
ful, their beautè in kyndly shyning fayled; wherfore dignitè
of him-selven hath no beautee in fayrnesse, ne dryveth nat awaye vices,
but encreseth; and so be they no cause of the knotte. Now see, in good
trouth; holde ye nat such sonnes worthy of no reverence, and dignites worthy
of no worship, that maketh men to do the more harmes?"
"I not," quod I.
"No?" quod she; "and thou see a wyse good man,
for his goodnesse and wysnesse wolt thou nat do him worship? Therof he
is worthy."
"That is good skil," quod I; "it is dewe to
suche, both reverence and worship to have."
"Than," quod she, "a shrewe, for his shreudnesse,
altho he be put forth toforn other for ferde, yet is he worthy, for shrewdnesse,
to be unworshipped; of reverence no part is he worthy to have, [that] to
contrarious doing belongeth: and that is good skil. For, right as he besmyteth
the dignites, thilke same thing ayenward him smyteth, or els shulde smyte.
And over this thou wost wel (quod she) that fyr in every place heteth where
it be, and water maketh wete. Why? For kyndely werking is so y-put in hem,
to do suche thinges; for every kyndely in werking sheweth his kynde. But
though a wight had ben mayre of your city many winter togider, and come
in a straunge place there he were not knowen, he shulde for his dignitè
have no reverence. Than neither worshippe ne reverence is kyndely propre
in no dignitè, sithen they shulden don their kynde in suche doinge,
if any were. And if reverence ne worshippe kyndely be not set in dignitees,
and they more therein ben shewed than goodnesse, for that in dignitè
is shewed, but it proveth that goodnesse kyndely in hem is not grounded.
I-wis, neither worshippe, ne reverence, ne goodnesse in dignitè
don non office of kynde; for they have non suche propertee in nature of
doinge but by false opinion of the people. Lo! how somtyme thilke that
in your city wern in dignitè noble, if thou liste hem nempne, they
ben now overturned bothe in worship, in name, and in reverence; wherfore
such dignites have no kyndly werching of worshippe and of reverence. He
that hath no worthinesse on it-selfe, now it ryseth and now it vanissheth,
after the variaunt opinion in false hertes of unstable people. Wherfore,
if thou desyre the knotte of this jewel, or els if thou woldest suppose
she shulde sette the knotte on thee for suche maner dignitè, than
thou wenest beautee or goodnesse of thilke somwhat encreseth the goodnesse
or vertue in the body. But dignite[es] of hemself ben not good, ne yeven
reverence ne worshippe by their owne kynde. How shulde they than yeve to
any other a thing, that by no waye mowe they have hem-selfe? It is sene
in dignitè of the emperour and of many mo other, that they mowe
not of hem-selve kepe their worshippe ne their reverence; that, in a litel
whyle, it is now up and now downe, by unstedfaste hertes of the people.
What bountee mowe they yeve that, with cloude, lightly leveth his shyninge?
Certes, to the occupyer is mokel appeyred, sithen suche doinge doth villanye
to him that may it not mayntayne. Wherfore thilke way to the knotte is
croked; and if any desyre to come to the knot, he must leve this way on
his lefte syde, or els shal he never come there.
"AVAYLETH aught (quod she) power of might in mayntenaunce of [men,
to maken hem] worthy to come to this knot?" "Pardè,"
quod I, "ye; for hertes ben ravisshed from suche maner thinges."
"Certes," quod she, "though a fooles herte
is with thing ravisshed, yet therfore is no general cause of the powers,
ne of a siker parfit herte to be loked after. Was not Nero the moste shrewe
oon of thilke that men rede, and yet had he power to make senatours justices,
and princes of many landes? Was not that greet power?"
"Yes, certes," quod I.
"Wel," quod she, "yet might he not helpe him-selfe
out of disese, whan he gan falle. How many ensamples canst thou remembre
of kinges grete and noble, and huge power *helden, and yet they might not
kepe hem-selve from wrecchednesse? How wrecched was king Henry Curtmantil
er he deyde? He had not so moche as to cover with his membres; and yet
was he oon of the grettest kinges of al the Normandes ofspring, and moste
possession had. O! a noble thing and clere is power, that is not founden
mighty to kepe him-selfe! Now, trewly, a greet fole is he, that for suche
thing wolde sette the knotte in thyne herte! Also power of rëalmes,
is not thilke grettest power amonges the worldly powers reckened? And if
suche powers han wrecchednesse in hem-selfe, it foloweth other powers of
febler condicion to ben wrecched; and than, that wrecchednesse shulde be
cause of suche a knotte! But every wight that hath reson wot wel that wrecchednesse
by no way may ben cause of none suche knotte; wherfore suche power is no
cause. That powers have wrecchednesse in hem-selfe, may right lightly ben
preved. If power lacke on any syde, on that syde is no power; but no power
is wrecchednesse: for al-be-it so the power of emperours or kinges, or
els of their rëalmes (which is the power of the prince) strecchen
wyde and brode, yet besydes is ther mokel folk of whiche he hath no commaundement
ne lordshippe; and there-as lacketh his power, his nonpower entreth, where-under
springeth that maketh hem wrecches. No power is wrecchednesse and nothing
els; but in this maner hath kinges more porcion of wrecchednesse than of
power. Trewly, suche powers ben unmighty; for ever they ben in drede how
thilke power from lesing may be keped of sorow; so drede sorily prikkes
ever in their hertes: litel is that power whiche careth and ferdeth it-selfe
to mayntayne. Unmighty is that wrecchednesse whiche is entred by the ferdful
weninge of the wrecche him-selfe; and knot y-maked by wrecchednesse is
betwene wrecches; and wrecches al thing bewaylen; wherfore the knot shulde
be bewayled; and there is no suche parfit blisse that we supposed at the
ginning! Ergo, power in nothing shulde cause suche knottes. Wrecchednesse
is a kyndely propertee in suche power, as by way of drede, whiche they
mowe nat eschewe, ne by no way live in sikernesse. For thou wost wel (quod
she) he is nought mighty that wolde don that he may not don ne perfourme."
"Therfore," quod I, "these kinges and lordes
that han suffisaunce at the ful of men and other thinges, mowen wel ben
holden mighty; their comaundementes ben don; it is nevermore denyed."
"Foole," quod she, "or he wot him-selfe mighty,
or wot it not; for he is nought mighty that is blynde of his might and
wot it not."
"That is sothe," quod I.
"Than if he wot it, he must nedes ben a-drad to lesen
it. He that wot of his might is in doute that he mote nedes lese; and so
ledeth him drede to ben unmighty. And if he recche not to lese, litel is
that worth that of the lesing reson reccheth nothing; and if it were mighty
in power or in strength, the lesing shulde ben withset; and whan it cometh
to the lesing, he may it not withsitte. Ergo, thilke might is leude
and naughty. Such mightes arn y-lyke to postes and pillers that upright
stonden, and greet might han to bere many charges; and if they croke on
any syde, litel thing maketh hem overthrowe."
"This is a good ensample," quod I, "to pillers
and postes that I have seen overthrowed my-selfe; and hadden they ben underput
with any helpes, they had not so lightly falle."
"Than holdest thou him mighty that hath many men armed
and many servauntes; and ever he is adrad of hem in his herte; and, for
he gasteth hem, somtyme he mot the more fere have. Comenly, he that other
agasteth, other in him ayenward werchen the same; and thus warnisshed mot
he be, and of warnisshe the hour drede. Litel is that might and right leude,
who-so taketh hede."
"Than semeth it," quod I, "that suche famulers
aboute kinges and grete lordes shulde greet might have. Although a sypher
in augrim have no might in significacion of it-selve, yet he yeveth power
in significacion to other; and these clepe I the helpes to a poste to kepe
him from falling."
"Certes," quod she, "thilke skilles ben leude.
Why? But-if the shorers be wel grounded, the helpes shulden slyden and
suffre the charge to falle; her might litel avayleth."
"And so me thinketh," quod I, "that a poste
alone, stonding upright upon a basse, may lenger in greet burthen endure
than croken pilers for al their helpes, and her ground be not siker."
"That is sothe," quod she; "for as, [if] the
blynde in bering of the lame ginne stomble, bothe shulde falle, right so
suche pillers, so envyroned with helpes, in falling of the grounde fayleth
*altogider. How ofte than suche famulers, in their moste pryde of prosperitè,
ben sodainly overthrowen! Thou hast knowe many in a moment so ferre overthrowe,
that cover might they never. Whan the hevinesse of suche fayling cometh
by case of fortune, they mowe it not eschue; and might and power, if ther
were any, shulde of strength such thinges voyde and weyve; and so it is
not. Lo, than! whiche thing is this power, that, tho men han it, they ben
agast; and in no tyme of ful having be they siker! And if they wold weyve
drede, as they mow not, litel is in worthines. Fye therfore on so naughty
thing, any knot to cause! Lo! in adversitè, thilk ben his foes that
glosed and semed frendes in welth; thus arn his familiers his foes and
his enemyes; and nothing is werse, ne more mighty for to anoy than is a
familier enemy; and these thinges may they not weyve; so trewly their might
is not worth a cresse. And over al thinge, he that may not withdrawe the
brydel of his flesshly lustes and his wrecched complayntes (now think on
thy-selfe) trewly he is not mighty; I can seen no way that lyth to the
knotte. Thilke people than, that setten their hertes upon suche mightes
and powers, often ben begyled. Pardè, he is not mighty that may
do any thing, that another may doon him the selve, and that men have as
greet power over him as he over other. A justice that demeth men ayenward
hath ben often demed. Buserus slew his gestes, and he was slayn of Hercules
his geste. Hugest betraysshed many men, and of Collo was he betrayed. He
that with swerde smyteth, with swerde shal be smitten."
Than gan I to studyen a whyle on these thinges, and made a
countenaunce with my hande in maner to ben huisht.
"Now let seen," quod she, "me thinketh somwhat
there is within thy soule, that troubleth thy understanding; saye on what
it is."
Quod I tho, "me thinketh that, although a man by
power have suche might over me, as I have over another, that disproveth
no might in my person; but yet may I have power and might never-the-later."
"See now," quod she, "thyne owne leudenesse.
He is mighty that may without wrecchednesse; and he is unmighty that may
it not withsitte; but than he, that might over thee, and he wol, putte
on thee wrecchednesse, thou might it not withsitte. Ergo, thou seest
thy-selfe what foloweth! But now (quod she) woldest thou not skorne, and
thou see a flye han power to don harm to an-other flye, and thilke have
no might ne ayenturning him-selfe to defende?"
"Yes, certes," quod I.
"Who is a frayler thing," quod she, "than the
fleshly body of a man, over whiche have oftentyme flyes, and yet lasse
thing than a flye, mokel might in grevaunce and anoying, withouten any
withsittinge, for al thilke mannes mightes? And sithen thou seest thyne
flesshly body in kyndely power fayle, how shulde than the accident of a
thinge ben in more suretè of beinge than substancial? Wherfore,
thilke thinges that we clepe power is but accident to the flesshly body;
and so they may not have that suretee in might, whiche wanteth in the substancial
body. Why there is no way to the knotte, [for him] that loketh aright after
the hye way, as he shulde.
VERILY it is proved that richesse, dignitè, and
power ben not trewe way to the knotte, but as rathe by suche thinges the
knotte to be unbounde; wherfore on these thinges I rede no wight truste
to gette any good knotte. But what shul we saye of renomè in the
peoples mouthes? Shulde that ben any cause? What supposest thou in thyn
herte?"
"Certes," quod I, "yes, I trowe; for your slye
resons I dare not safely it saye."
"Than," quod she, "wol I preve that shrewes
as rathe shul ben in the knotte as the good; and that were ayenst kynde."
"Fayn," quod I, "wolde I that here; me thinketh
wonder how renomè shuld as wel knitte a shrewe as a good person;
renomè in every degree hath avaunced; yet wist I never the contrarye.
Shulde than renomè accorde with a shrewe? It may not sinke in my
stomake til I here more."
"Now," quod she, "have I not sayd alwayes,
that shrewes shul not have the knotte?" "What nedeth,"
quod I, "to reherse that any more? I wot wel every wight, by kyndely
reson, shrewes in knitting wol eschewe."
"Than," quod she, "the good ought thilke knotte
to have."
"How els?" quod I.
"It were greet harm," quod she, "that the good
were weyved and put out of espoire of the knotte, if he it desyred."
"0," quod I, "alas! On suche thing to thinke,
I wene that heven wepeth to see suche wronges here ben suffred on erthe;
the good ought it to have, and no wight els."
"The goodnesse," quod she, "of a person may
not ben knowe outforth but by renomè of the knowers; wherfore he
must be renomed of goodnesse, to come to the knot."
"So must it be," quod I, "or els al lost that
we carpen."
"Sothly," quod she, "that were greet harm,
but-if a good man might have his desyres in service of thilke knot, and
a shrewe to be *weyved, and they ben not knowen in general but by lacking
and praysing, and in renomè; and so by the consequence it foloweth,
a shrewe to ben praysed and knit; and a good to be forsake and unknit."
"Ah," quod I tho, "have ye, lady, ben here
abouten; yet wolde I see, by grace of our argumentes better declared, how
good and bad do acorden by lacking and praysing; me thinketh it ayenst
kynde."
"Nay," quod she, "and that shalt thou see as
yerne; these elementes han contrarious qualitees in kynde, by whiche they
mowe not acorde no more than good and badde; and in [some] qualitees they
acorde, so that contraries by qualitè acorden by qualitè.
Is not erthe drye; and water, that is next and bitwene th'erthe, is wete?
Drye and wete ben contrarie, and mowen not acorde, and yet this discordaunce
is bounde to acorde by cloudes; for bothe elementes ben colde. Right so
the eyre, that is next the water, is wete; and eke it is hot. This eyre
by his hete contrarieth water that is cold; but thilke contrarioustè
is oned *by moysture; for bothe be they moyst. Also the fyr, that is next
the *eyre and it encloseth al about, is drye, wherthrough it contrarieth
*eyre, that is wete; and in hete they acorde; for bothe they ben hote.
Thus by these acordaunces discordantes ben joyned, and in a maner of acordaunce
they acorden by conneccion, that is, knitting togither; of that accorde
cometh a maner of melodye that is right noble. Right so good and bad arn
contrarie in doinges, by lacking and praysing; good is bothe lacked and
praysed of some; and badde is bothe lacked and praysed of some; wherfore
their contrarioustee acorde bothe by lacking and praysing. Than foloweth
it, though good be never so mokel praysed, [it] oweth more to ben knit
than the badde; or els bad, for the renomè that he hath, must be
taken as wel as the good; and that oweth not."
"No, forsothe," quod I.
"Wel," quod she, "than is renomè no
way to the knot. Lo, foole," quod she, "how clerkes wryten of
suche glorie of renomè: `O glorie, glorie, thou art non other thing
to thousandes of folke but a greet sweller of eeres!' Many oon hath had
ful greet renomè by false opinion of variaunt people. And what is
fouler than folk wrongfully to ben praysed, or by malice of the people
giltlesse lacked? Nedes shame foloweth therof to hem that with wrong prayseth,
and also to the desertes praysed; and vilanye and reproof of him that disclaundreth.
Good child (quod she) what echeth suche renomè to the
conscience of a wyse man, that loketh and mesureth his goodnesse, not by
slevelesse wordes of the people, but by sothfastnesse of conscience? By
god, nothing. And if it be fayr, a mans name be eched by moche folkes praysing,
and fouler thing that mo folk not praysen? I sayd to thee a litel here-beforn,
that no folk in straunge countreyes nought praysen; suche renomè
may not comen to their eeres, bycause of unknowing and other obstacles,
as I sayde: wherfore more folk not praysen, and that is right foul to him
that renomè desyreth, to wete, lesse folk praisen than renomè
enhaunce. I trowe, the thank of a people is naught worth in remembraunce
to take; ne it procedeth of no wyse jugement; never is it stedfast pardurable.
It is veyne and fleing; with winde wasteth and encreseth. Trewly, suche
glorie ought to be hated. If gentillesse be a cleer thing, renomè
and glorie to enhaunce, as in reckening of thy linage, than is gentilesse
of thy kinne; for-why it semeth that gentilesse of thy kinne is but praysing
and renomè that come of thyne auncestres desertes: and if so be
that praysing and renomè of their desertes make their clere gentillesse,
than mote they nedes ben gentil for their gentil dedes, and not thou; for
of thy-selfe cometh not such maner gentilesse, praysinge of thy desertes.
Than gentillesse of thyne auncesters, that forayne is to thee, maketh thee
not gentil, but ungentil and reproved, and-if thou continuest not their
gentilesse. And therfore a wyse man ones sayde: `Better is it thy kinne
to ben by thee gentyled, than thou to glorifye of thy kinnes gentilesse,
and hast no desert therof thy-selfe.'
How passinge is the beautee of flesshly bodyes, more flittinge
than movable floures of sommer! And if thyne eyen weren as good as the
lynx, that may seen thorow many stone walles, bothe fayre and foule, in
their entrayles, of no maner hewe shulde apere to thy sight; that were
a foule sight. Than is fayrnesse by feblesse of eyen, but of no kynde;
wherfore thilke shulde be no way to the knot; whan thilke is went, the
knotte wendeth after. Lo, now, at al proves, none of al these thinges mowe
parfitly ben in understanding, to ben way to the during blisse of the knotte.
But now, to conclusion of these maters, herkeneth these wordes. Very sommer
is knowe from the winter: in shorter cours draweth the dayes of Decembre
than in the moneth of June; the springes of Maye faden and *falowen in
Octobre. These thinges ben not unbounden from their olde kynde; they have
not lost her werke of their propre estat. Men, of voluntarious wil, withsitte
that hevens governeth. Other thinges suffren thinges paciently to werche;
man, in what estat he be, yet wolde he ben chaunged. Thus by queynt thinges
blisse is desyred; and the fruit that cometh of these springes nis but
anguis and bitter; al-though it be a whyle swete, it may not be with-holde;
hastely they departe; thus al-day fayleth thinges that fooles wende. Right
thus hast thou fayled in thy first wening. He that thinketh to sayle, and
drawe after the course of the sterre de polo antartico, shal he
never come northward to the contrarye sterre of polus articus; of
whiche thinges if thou take kepe, thy first out-waye-going `prison' and
`exile' may be cleped. The ground falsed underneth, and so hast thou fayled.
No wight, I wene, blameth him that stinteth in misgoing, and secheth redy
way of his blisse. Now me thinketh (quod she) that it suffyseth in my shewing;
the wayes by dignetè, richesse, renomè, and power, if thou
loke clerely, arn no wayes to the knotte."
"EVERY argument, lady," quod I tho, "that ye han maked
in these fore-nempned maters, me thinketh hem in my ful witte conceyved;
shal I no more, if god wil, in the contrarye be begyled. But fayn wolde
I, and it were your wil, blisse of the knotte to me were declared. I might
fele the better how my herte might assente, to pursue the ende in service,
as he hath begonne."
"0," quod she, "there is a melodye in heven,
whiche clerkes clepen `armony'; but that is not in brekinge of voice, but
it is a maner swete thing of kyndely werching, that causeth joye[s] out
of nombre to recken, and that is joyned by reson and by wysdome in a quantitè
of proporcion of knitting. God made al thing in reson and in witte of proporcion
of melody, we mowe not suffyse to shewe. It is written by grete clerkes
and wyse, that, in erthly thinges, lightly by studye and by travayle the
knowinge may be getten; but of suche hevenly melody, mokel travayle wol
bringe out in knowing right litel. Swetenesse of this paradyse hath you
ravisshed; it semeth ye slepten, rested from al other diseses; so kyndely
is your herte therein y-grounded. Blisse of two hertes, in ful love knitte,
may not aright ben imagined; ever is their contemplacion, in ful of thoughty
studye to plesaunce, mater in bringinge comfort everiche to other. And
therfore, of erthly thinges, mokel mater lightly cometh in your lerning.
Knowledge of understonding, that is nigh after eye, but not so nigh the
covetyse of knittinge in your hertes. More soverain desyr hath every wight
in litel heringe of hevenly conninge than of mokel material purposes in
erthe. Right so it is in propertee of my servauntes, that they ben more
affiched in steringe of litel thinge in his desyr than of mokel other mater
lasse in his conscience. This blisse is a maner of sowne delicious in a
queynte voice touched, and no dinne of notes; there is non impression of
breking labour. I can it not otherwyse nempne, for wantinge of privy wordes,
but paradyse terrestre ful of delicious melody, withouten travayle in sown,
perpetual service in ful joye coveyted to endure. Only kynde maketh hertes
in understonding so to slepe, that otherwyse may it nat be nempned, ne
in other maner names for lyking swetnesse can I nat it declare; al sugre
and hony, al minstralsy and melody ben but soot and galle in comparison,
by no maner proporcion to reken, in respect of this blisful joye. This
armony, this melody, this perdurable joye may nat be in doinge but betwene
hevens and elementes, or twey kyndly hertes ful knit in trouth of naturel
understonding, withouten weninge and disceit; as hevens and planettes,
whiche thinges continually, for kyndly accordaunces, foryeteth al contrarious
mevinges, that in-to passive diseses may sowne; evermore it thirsteth after
more werking. These thinges in proporcion be so wel joyned, that it undoth
al thing whiche in-to badnesse by any way may be accompted."
"Certes," quod I, "this is a thing precious
and noble. Alas! that falsnesse ever, or wantrust shulde ever be maynteyned,
this joye to voyde. Alas! that ever any wrecche shulde, thorow wrath or
envy, janglinge dare make, to shove this melody so farre a-backe, that
openly dar it nat ben used; trewly, wrecches ben fulfilled with envy and
wrathe, and no wight els. Flebring and tales in suche wrecches dare appere
openly in every wightes eere, with ful mouth so charged, [with] mokel malice
moved many innocentes to shende; god wolde their soule therwith were strangled!
Lo! trouth in this blisse is hid, and over-al under covert him hydeth;
he dar not come a-place, for waytinge of shrewes. Commenly, badnesse goodnesse
amaistreth; with myselfe and my soule this joye wolde I bye, if the goodnesse
were as moche as the nobley in melody."
"0," quod she, "what goodnesse may be acompted
more in this material worlde? Truly, non; that shalt thou understonde.
Is nat every thing good that is contrariant and distroying yvel?"
"How els? quod I.
"Envy, wrathe, and falsnesse ben general," quod
she; "and that wot every man being in his right mynde; the knotte,
the whiche we have in this blisse, is contrariaunt and distroyeth such
maner yvels. Ergo, it is good. What hath caused any wight to don
any good dede? Fynd me any good, but-if this knotte be the cheef cause.
Nedes mot it be good, that causeth so many good dedes. Every cause is more
and worthier than thing caused; and in that mores possession al thinges
lesse ben compted. As the king is more than his people, and hath in possession
al his rëalme after, right so the knot is more than al other goodes;
thou might recken al thinges lasse; and that to him longeth, oweth in-to
his mores cause of worship and of wil *to turne; it is els rebel and out
of his mores defending to voyde. Right so of every goodnesse; in-to the
knotte and in-to the cause of his worship [it] oweth to tourne. And trewly,
every thing that hath being profitably is good, but nothing hath to ben
more profitably than this knot; kinges it mayntayneth, and hem, their powers
to mayntayne. It maketh misse to ben amended with good governaunce in doing.
It closeth hertes so togider, that rancour is out-thresten. Who that it
lengest kepeth, lengest is glad[d]ed."
"I trowe," quod I, "heretykes and misse-mening
people henceforward wol maintayne this knotte; for therthorough shul they
ben maintayned, and utterly wol turne and leve their olde yvel understanding,
and knitte this goodnesse, and profer so ferre in service, that name of
servauntes might they have. Their jangles shal cese; me thinketh hem lacketh
mater now to alege."
"Certes," quod Love, "if they, of good wil
thus turned, as thou sayst, wolen trewly perfourme, yet shul they be abled
party of this blisse to have; and they wol not, yet shul my servauntes
the werre wel susteyne in myn helpe of maintenaunce to the ende. And they,
for their good travayle, shullen in reward so ben meded, that endelesse
joye body and soule *to-gider in this shullen abyden. There is ever accion
of blisse withouten possible corrupcion; there is accion perpetuel in werke
without travayle; there is everlasting passife, withouten any of labour;
continuel plyte, without cesinge coveyted to endure. No tonge may telle,
ne herte may thinke the leest point of this blisse."
"God bring me thider!" quod I than.
"Continueth wel," quod she, "to the ende, and
thou might not fayle than; for though thou spede not here, yet shal the
passion of thy martred lyfe ben written, and rad toforn the grete Jupiter,
that god is of routhe, an high in the holownesse of heven, there he sit
in his trone; and ever thou shalt forward ben holden amonge al these hevins
for a knight, that mightest with no penaunce ben discomfited. He is a very
martyr that, livingly goinge, is gnawen to the bones."
"Certes," quod I, "these ben good wordes of
comfort; a litel myne herte is rejoyced in a mery wyse."
"Ye," quod she; "and he that is in heven felith
more joye, than whan he firste herde therof speke."
"So it is," quod I; "but wist I the sothe,
that after disese comfort wolde folowe with blisse, so as ye have often
declared, I wolde wel suffre this passion with the better chere. But my
thoughtful sorowe is endelesse, to thinke how I am cast out of a welfare;
and yet dayneth not this yvel non herte, non hede, to meward throwe: which
thinges wolde greetly me by wayes of comfort disporte, to weten in my-selfe
a litel with other me[n] ben y-moved; and my sorowes peysen not in her
balaunce the weyght of a peese. Slinges of her daunger so hevily peysen,
they drawe my causes so hye, that in her eyen they semen but light and
right litel."
"0! for," quod she, "heven with skyes that
foule cloudes maken and darke *weders, with gret tempestes and huge, maketh
the mery dayes with softe shyning sonnes. Also the yere with-draweth floures
and beautee of herbes and of erth; the same *yere maketh springes and jolitè
in Vere so to renovel with peinted coloures, that erthe semeth as gay as
heven. Sees that blasteth and with wawes throweth shippes, of whiche the
living creatures for greet peril for hem dreden; right so, the same sees
maketh smothe waters and golden sayling, and comforteth hem with noble
haven that firste were so ferde. Hast thou not (quod she) lerned in thy
youth, that Jupiter hath in his warderobe bothe garmentes of joye and of
sorowe? What wost thou how soone he wol turne of the garment of care, and
clothe thee in blisse? Pardè, it is not ferre fro thee. Lo, an olde
proverbe aleged by many wyse: `Whan bale is greetest, than is bote a nye-bore.'--
Wherof wilt thou dismaye? Hope wel and serve wel; and that shal thee save,
with thy good bileve."
"Ye, ye," quod I; "yet see I not by reson how
this blisse is coming; I wot it is contingent; it may falle on other."
"0," quod she, "I have mokel to done to clere
thyne understanding, and voyde these errours out of thy mynde. I wol prove
it by reson, thy wo may not alway enduren. Every thing kyndely (quod she)
is governed and ruled by the hevenly bodyes, whiche haven ful werchinge
here on erthe; and after course of these bodyes, al course of your doinges
here ben governed and ruled by kynde.
Thou wost wel, by cours of planettes al your dayes proceden;
and to everich of singuler houres be enterchaunged stondmele about, by
submitted worching naturally to suffre; of whiche changes cometh these
transitory tymes that maketh revolving of your yeres thus stondmele; every
hath ful might of worchinge, til al seven han had her course about. Of
which worchinges and possession of houres the dayes of the weke have take
her names, after denominacion in these seven planettes. Lo, your Sonday
ginneth at the first hour after noon on the Saturday, in whiche hour is
than the Sonne in ful might of worching; of whom Sonday taketh his name.
Next him foloweth Venus, and after Mercurius, and than the Moone; so than
Saturnus, after whom Jovis; and than Mars; and ayen than the Sonne; and
so forth *by .xxiiii. houres togider; in whiche hour ginning in the seconde
day stant the Moone, as maister for that tyme to rule; of whom Monday taketh
his name; and this course foloweth of al other dayes generally in doing.
This course of nature of these bodyes chaunging stinten at a certain terme,
limitted by their first kynde; and of hem al governementes in this elemented
worlde proceden, as in springes, constellacions, engendrures, and al that
folowen kynde and reson; wherfore [in] the course that foloweth, sorowe
and joy kyndely moten entrechangen their tymes; so that alway oon wele,
as alway oon wo, may not endure. Thus seest thou appertly, thy sorowe in-to
wele mot ben chaunged; wherfore in suche case to better syde evermore enclyne
thou shuldest. Trewly, next the ende of sorowe anon entreth joy; by maner
of necessitè it wol ne may non other betyde; and so thy conti[n]gence
is disproved; if thou holde this opinion any more, thy wit is right leude.
Wherfore, in ful conclusion of al this, thilke Margaryte thou desyrest
hath ben to thee dere in thy herte, and for her hast thou suffred many
thoughtful diseses; herafter shal [she] be cause of mokel mirth and joye;
and loke how glad canst thou ben, and cese al thy passed hevinesse with
manifolde joyes. And than wol I as blythly here thee speken thy mirthes
in joye, as I now have y-herd thy sorowes and thy complayntes. And if I
mowe in aught thy joye encrese, by my trouthe, on my syde shal nat be leved
for no maner traveyle, that I with al my mightes right blythly wol helpe,
and ever ben redy you bothe to plese." And than thanked I that lady
with al goodly maner that I worthily coude; and trewly I was greetly rejoysed
in myne herte of her fayre behestes; and profered me to be slawe, in al
that she me wolde ordeyne, while my lyf lested.
"ME thinketh," quod I, "that ye have right wel declared,
that way to the knot shuld not ben in none of these disprovinge thinges;
and now, order of our purpos this asketh, that ye shulde me shewe if any
way be *thider, and whiche thilke way shulde ben; so that openly may be
seye the verry hye way in ful confusioun of these other thinges."
"Thou shalt," quod she, "understande that [of]
one of three lyves (as I first sayd) every creature of mankynde is sprongen,
and so forth procedeth. These lyves ben thorow names departed in three
maner of kyndes, as bestialliche, manliche, and resonabliche; of whiche
two ben used by flesshely body, and the thirde by his soule. `Bestial'
among resonables is forboden in every lawe and every secte, bothe in Cristen
and other; for every wight dispyseth hem that liveth by lustes and delytes,
as him that is thral and bounden servaunt to things right foule; suche
ben compted werse than men; he shal nat in their degree ben rekened, ne
for suche one alowed. Heritykes, sayn they, chosen lyf bestial, that voluptuously
liven; so that (as I first sayde to thee) in manly and resonable livinges
our mater was to declare; but [by] `manly' lyfe, in living after flesshe,
or els flesshly wayes to chese, may nat blisse in this knotte be conquered,
as by reson it is proved. Wherfore by `resonable' lyfe he must nedes it
have, sithe a way is to this knotte, but nat by the firste tway lyves;
wherfore nedes mot it ben to the thirde; and for to live in flesshe, but
nat after flessh, is more resonablich than manliche rekened by clerkes.
Therfore how this way cometh in, I wol it blythely declare.
See now (quod she) that these bodily goodes of manliche livinges
yelden *sorowfulle stoundes and smertande houres. Whoso *wol remembre him
to their endes, in their worchinges they ben thoughtful and sorie. Right
as a bee that hath had his hony, anon at his flight beginneth to stinge;
so thilke bodily goodes at the laste mote awaye, and than stinge they at
her goinge, wherthrough entreth and clene voydeth al blisse of this knot."
"Forsothe," quod I, "me thinketh I am wel served,
in shewing of these wordes. Although I hadde litel in respect among other
grete and worthy, yet had I a fair parcel, as me thought, for the tyme,
in forthering of my sustenaunce; whiche while it dured, I thought me havinge
mokel hony to myne estat. I had richesse suffisauntly to weyve nede; I
had dignitè to be reverenced in worship. Power me thought that I
had to kepe fro myne enemyes, and me semed to shyne in glorie of renomè
as manhood asketh in mene; for no wight in myne administracion coude non
yvels ne trechery by sothe cause on me putte. Lady, your-selve weten wel,
that of tho confederacies maked by my soverains I nas but a servaunt, and
yet mokel mene folk wol fully ayenst reson thilke maters maynteyne, in
whiche mayntenaunce [they] glorien them-selfe; and, as often ye haven sayd,
therof ought nothing in yvel to be layd to me-wardes, sithen as repentaunt
I am tourned, and no more I thinke, neither tho thinges ne none suche other
to sustene, but utterly distroye, without medlinge maner, in al my mightes.
How am I now cast out of al swetnesse of blisse, and mischevously [is]
stongen my passed joy! Soroufully muste I bewayle, and live as a wrecche.
Every of tho joyes is tourned in-to his contrary. For richesse,
now have I povertè; for dignitè, now am I emprisoned; in
stede of power, wrecchednesse I suffre; and for glorie of renomè,
I am now dispysed and foulich hated. Thus hath farn Fortune, that sodaynly
am I overthrowen, and out of al welth dispoyled. Trewly, me thinketh this
way in entree is right hard; god graunt me better grace er it be al passed;
the other way, lady, me thought right swete."
"Now, certes," quod Love, "me list for to chyde.
What ayleth thy darke dulnesse? Wol it nat in clerenesse ben sharped? Have
I nat by many resons to thee shewed, suche bodily goodes faylen to yeve
blisse, their might so ferforth wol nat strecche? Shame (quod she) it is
to say, thou lyest in thy wordes. Thou ne hast wist but right fewe that
these bodily goodes had al atones; commenly they dwellen nat togider. He
that plentè hath in riches, of his kinne is ashamed; another of
linage right noble and wel knowe, but povert him handleth; he were lever
unknowe. Another hath these, but renomè of peoples praysing may
he nat have; overal he is hated and defamed of thinges right foule. Another
is fair and semely, but dignitè him fayleth; and he that hath dignitè
is croked or lame, or els misshapen and foully dispysed. Thus partable
these goodes dwellen commenly; in one houshold ben they but silde. Lo!
how wrecched is your truste on thing that wol nat accorde! Me thinketh,
thou clepest thilke plyte thou were in `selinesse of fortune'; and thou
sayest, for that the selinesse is departed, thou art a wrecch. Than foloweth
this upon thy wordes; every soule resonable of man may nat dye; and if
deth endeth selinesse and maketh wrecches, as nedes of fortune maketh it
an ende. Than soules, after deth of the body, in wrecchednesse shulde liven.
But we knowe many that han geten the blisse of heven after their deth.
How than may this lyf maken men blisful, that whan it passeth it yeveth
no wrecchednesse, and many tymes blisse, if in this lyfe he con live as
he shulde? And wolt thou acompt with Fortune, that now at [t]he first she
hath don thee tene and sorowe? If thou loke to the maner of al glad thinges
and sorouful, thou mayst nat nay it, that yet, and namely now, thou standest
in noble plyte in a good ginning, with good forth-going herafter. And if
thou wene to be a wrecch, for such welth is passed, why than art thou nat
wel fortunate, for badde thinges and anguis wrecchednesse ben passed? Art
thou now come first in-to the hostry of this lyfe, or els the both of this
worlde? Art thou now a sodayn gest in-to this wrecched exile? Wenest there
be any thing in this erthe stable? Is nat thy first arest passed, that
brought thee in mortal sorowe? Ben these nat mortal thinges agon with ignorance
of beestial wit, and hast receyved reson in knowing of vertue? What comfort
is in thy herte, the knowinge sikerly in my service [to] be grounded? And
wost thou nat wel, as I said, that deth maketh ende of al fortune? What
than? Standest thou in noble plyte, litel hede or recking to take, if thou
let fortune passe dy[i]ng, or els that she fly whan her list, now by thy
lyve? Pardy, a man hath nothing so leef as his lyf; and for to holde that,
he doth al his cure and diligent traveyle. Than, say I, thou art blisful
and fortunat sely, if thou knowe thy goodes that thou hast yet *beleved,
whiche nothing may doute that they ne ben more worthy than thy lyf?"
"What is that?" quod I.
"Good contemplacion," quod she, "of wel-doing
in vertue in tyme coming, bothe in plesaunce of me and of thy Margarit-peerle.
Hastely thyn hert in ful blisse with her shal be esed. Therfore dismay
thee nat; Fortune, in hate grevously ayenst thy bodily person, ne yet to
gret tempest hath she nat sent to thee, sithen the holding cables and ankers
of thy lyfe holden by knitting so faste, that thou discomforte thee nought
of tyme that is now, ne dispayre thee not of tyme to come, but yeven thee
comfort in hope of weldoing, and of getting agayn the double of thy lesing,
with encresing love of thy Margarite-perle therto! For this, hiderto, thou
hast had al her ful daunger; and so thou might amende al that is misse
and al defautes that somtyme thou diddest; and that now, in al thy tyme,
to that ilke Margaryte in ful service of my lore thyne herte hath continued;
wherfore she ought moche the rather enclyne fro her daungerous sete. These
thinges ben yet knit by the holding anker in thy lyve, and holden mote
they; to god I pray, al these thinges at ful ben perfourmed. For whyle
this anker holdeth, I hope thou shalt safely escape; and [in a] whyle thy
trewe-mening service aboute bringe, in dispyte of al false meners that
thee of-newe haten; for [in] this trewe service thou art now entred."
"Certayn," quod I, "among thinges I asked a
question, whiche was the way to the knot. Trewly, lady, how-so it be I
tempt you with questions and answers, in speking of my first service, I
am now in ful purpos in the pricke of the herte, that thilke service was
an enprisonment, and alway bad and naughty, in no maner to be desyred;
ne that, in getting of the knot, may it nothing aveyle. A wyse gentil herte
loketh after vertue, and none other bodily joyes alone. And bycause toforn
this in tho wayes I was set, I wot wel my-selfe I have erred, and of the
blisse fayled; and so out of my way hugely have I ronne."
"Certes," quod she, "that is sothe; and there
thou hast miswent, eschewe the path from hens-forward, I rede. Wonder I
trewly why the mortal folk of this worlde seche these ways outforth; and
it is preved in your-selfe. Lo, how ye ben confounded with errour and folly!
The knowing of very cause and way is goodnesse and vertue. Is there any
thing to thee more precious than thy-selfe? Thou shalt have in thy power
that thou woldest never lese, and that in no way may be taken fro thee;
and thilke thing is that is cause of this knot. And if deth mowe it nat
reve more than an erthly creature, thilke thing than abydeth with thy-selfe
soule. And so, our conclusion to make, suche a knot, thus getten, abydeth
with this thinge and with the soule, as long as they laste. A soule dyeth
never; vertu and goodnesse evermore with the soule endureth; and this knot
is parfit blisse. Than this soule in this blisse endlesse shal enduren.
Thus shul hertes of a trewe knot ben esed: thus shul their soules ben plesed:
thus perpetually in joye shul they singe."
"In good trouth," quod I, "here is a good beginning;
yeve us more of this way."
Quod she, "I said to thee nat longe sithen, that resonable
lyf was oon of three thinges; and it was proved to the soule.
EVERY soule of reson hath two thinges of stering lyf, oon in vertue,
and another in the bodily workinge; and whan the soule is the maister over
the body, than is a man maister of himselfe. And a man, to be a maister
over him-selfe, liveth in vertu and in goodnesse, and as reson of vertue
techeth. So the soule and the body, worching vertue togider, liven resonable
lyf, whiche clerkes clepen `felicitè in living'; and therein is
the hye way to this knot. These olde philosophers, that hadden no knowing
of divine grace, of kyndly reson alone, wenden that of pure nature, withouten
any helpe of grace, me might have y-shoned th'other livinges. Resonably
have I lived; and for I thinke herafter, if god wol, and I have space,
thilke grace after my leude knowing declare, I leve it as at this tyme.
But, as I said, he that out-forth loketh after the wayes of this knot,
[his] conning with whiche he shulde knowe the way in-forth, slepeth for
the tyme. Wherfore he that wol this way knowe, must leve the loking after
false wayes outforth, and open the eyen of his conscience, and unclose
his herte. Seest nat, he that hath trust in the bodily lyfe is so besy
bodily woundes to anointe, in keping from smert (for al-out may they nat
be heled), that of woundes in his true understanding he taketh no hede;
the knowing evenforth slepeth so harde: but anon, as in knowing awake,
than ginneth the prevy medicynes, for heling of his trewe intent, inwardes
lightly *helen conscience, if it be wel handled. Than must nedes these
wayes come out of the soule by stering lyfe of the body; and els may no
man come to parfit blisse of this knotte. And thus, by this waye, he shal
come to the knotte, and to the parfit selinesse that he wende have had
in bodily goodes outforth."
"Ye," quod I, "shal he have both knot, riches,
power, dignit‚, and renomè in this maner way?"
"Ye," quod she, "that shal I shewe thee. Is
he nat riche that hath suffisaunce, and hath the power that no man may
amaistrien? Is nat greet dignitè to have worship and reverence?
And hath he nat glorie of renomè, whos name perpetual is during,
and out of nombre in comparacion?"
"These be thinges that men wenen to getten outforth,"
quod I.
"Ye," quod she; "they that loken after a thing
that nought is therof, in al ne in partie, longe mowe they gapen after!"
"That is sothe," quod I.
"Therfore," quod she, "they that sechen gold
in grene trees, and wene to gader precious stones among vynes, and layn
her nettes in mountains to fisshe, and thinken to hunte in depe sees after
hart and hynd, and sechen in erth thilke thinges that surmounteth heven,
what may I of hem say, but folisshe ignoraunce misledeth wandring wrecches
by uncouth wayes that shulden be forleten, and maketh hem blynde fro the
right pathe of trewe way that shulde ben used? Therfore, in general, errour
in mankynde departeth thilke goodes by mis-seching, whiche he shulde have
hole, and he sought by reson. Thus goth he begyled of that he sought; in
his hode men have blowe a jape."
"Now," quod I, "if a man be vertuous, and al
in vertue liveth, how hath he al these thinges?"
"That shal I proven," quod she. "What power
hath any man to lette another of living in vertue? For prisonment, or any
other disese, [if] he take it paciently, discomfiteth he nat; the tyrant
over his soule no power may have. Than hath that man, so tourmented, suche
power, that he nil be discomfit; ne overcome may he nat ben, sithen pacience
in his soule overcometh, and *is nat overcomen. Suche thing that may nat
be a-maistred, he hath nede to nothing; for he hath suffisaunce y-now,
to helpe him-selfe. And thilke thing that thus hath power and suffisance,
and no tyrant may it reve, and hath dignitè to sette at nought al
thinges, here it is a greet dignitè, that deth may a-maistry. Wherfore
thilke power [with] suffisaunce, so enclosed with dignitè, by al
reson renomè must have. This is thilke riches with suffisaunce ye
sholde loke after; this is thilke worshipful dignitè ye shulde coveyte;
this is thilke power of might, in whiche ye shulde truste; this is the
ilke renomè of glorie that endlesse endureth; and al nis but substaunce
in vertuous lyving."
"Certes," quod I, "al this is sothe; and so
I see wel that vertue with ful gripe encloseth al these thinges. Wherfore
in sothe I may saye, by my trouth, vertue of my Margarite brought me first
in-to your service, to have knitting with that jewel, nat sodain longinges
ne folkes smale wordes, but only our conversacion togider; and than I,
seinge th'entent of her trewe mening with florisshing vertue of pacience,
that she used nothing in yvel, to quyte the wicked lesinges that false
tonges ofte in her have laid, I have seye it my-selfe, goodly foryevenesse
hath spronge out of her herte. Unitè and accord, above al other
thinges, she desyreth in a good meke maner; and suffereth many wicked tales.
Trewly, lady, to you it were a gret worship, that suche thinges
by due chastisment were amended."
"Ye," quod she, "I have thee excused; al suche
thinges as yet mowe nat be redressed; thy Margarites vertue I commende
wel the more, that paciently suche anoyes suffreth. David king was meke,
and suffred mokel hate and many yvel speches; no despyt ne shame that his
enemys him deden might nat move pacience out of his herte, but ever in
one plyte mercy he used. Wherfore god him-selfe took reward to the thinges;
and theron suche punisshment let falle. Trewly, by reson, it ought be ensample
of drede to al maner peoples mirth. A man vengeable in wrath no governance
in punisshment ought to have. Plato had a cause his servant to *scourge,
and yet cleped he his neibour to performe the doinge; him-selfe wolde nat,
lest wrath had him a-maistred; and so might he have layd on to moche: evermore
grounded vertue sheweth th'entent fro within. And trewly, I wot wel, for
her goodnesse and vertue, thou hast desyred my service to her plesance
wel the more; and thy-selfe therto fully hast profered."
"Good lady," quod I, "is vertue the hye way
to this knot that long we have y-handled?"
"Ye, forsoth," quod she, "and without vertue,
goodly this knot may nat be goten."
"Ah! now I see," quod I, "how vertu in me fayleth;
and I, as a seer tree, without burjoning or frute, alwaye welke; and so
I stonde in dispeyre of this noble knot; for vertue in me hath no maner
workinge. A! wyde-where aboute have I traveyled!"
"Pees," quod she, "of thy first way; thy traveyle
is in ydel; and, as touchinge the seconde way, I see wel thy meninge. Thou
woldest conclude me, if thou coudest, bycause I brought thee to service;
and every of my servantes I helpe to come to this blisse, as I sayd here-beforn.
And thou saydest thy-selfe, thou mightest nat be holpen as thou wenest,
bycause that vertue in thee fayleth; and this blisse parfitly without vertue
may nat be goten; thou wenest of these wordes contradiccion to folowe.
Pardè, at the hardest, I have no servant but he be vertuous in dede
and thought. I brought thee in my service, yet art thou nat my servant;
but I say, thou might so werche in vertue herafter, that than shalt thou
be my servant, and as for my servant acompted. For habit maketh no monk;
ne weringe of gilte spurres maketh no knight. Never-the-later, in confort
of thyne herte, yet wol I otherwyse answere."
"Certes, lady," quod I tho, "so ye muste nedes;
or els I had nigh caught suche a *cardiacle for sorowe, I wot it wel, I
shulde it never have recovered. And therfore now I praye [thee] to enforme
me in this; or els I holde me without recovery. I may nat long endure til
this lesson be lerned, and of this mischeef the remedy knowen."
"Now," quod she, "be nat wroth; for there is
no man on-lyve that may come to a precious thing longe coveited, but he
somtyme suffre teneful diseses: and wenest thy-selfe to ben unliche to
al other? That may nat ben. And with the more sorowe that a thing is getten,
the more he hath joye the ilke thing afterwardes to kepe; as it fareth
by children in scole, that for lerninge arn beten, whan their lesson they
foryetten. Commenly, after a good disciplyning with a yerde, they kepe
right wel doctrine of their scole."
RIGHT with these wordes, on this lady I threw up myne eyen, to see her
countenaunce and her chere; and she, aperceyving this fantasye in myne
herte, gan her semblaunt goodly on me caste, and sayde in this wyse.
"It is wel knowe, bothe to reson and experience in doinge
every active worcheth on his passive; and whan they ben togider `active'
and `passive' ben y-cleped by these philosophers. If fyr be in place chafinge
thing able to be chafed or hete[d], and thilke thinges ben set in suche
a distaunce that the oon may werche, the other shal suffre. Thilke Margarite
thou desyrest is ful of vertue, and able to be active in goodnesse: but
every herbe sheweth his vertue outforth from within. The sonne yeveth light,
that thinges may be seye. Every fyr heteth thilke thing that it *neigheth,
and it be able to be hete[d]. Vertue of this Margarite outforth *wercheth;
and nothing is more able to suffre worching, or worke cacche of the actife,
but passife of the same actife; and no passife, to vertues of this Margaryte,
but thee, in al my Donet can I fynde! So that her vertue muste nedes on
thee werche; in what place ever thou be, within distaunce of her worthinesse,
as her very passife thou art closed. But vertue may thee nothing profyte,
but thy desyr be perfourmed, and al thy sorowes cesed. Ergo, through
werchinge of her vertue thou shalt esely ben holpen, and driven out of
al care, and welcome to this longe by thee desyred!"
"Lady," quod I, "this is a good lesson in ginning
of my joye; but wete ye wel forsothe, though I suppose she have moche vertue,
I wolde my spousaile were proved, and than may I live out of doute, and
rejoice me greetly, in thinking of tho vertues so shewed."
"I herde thee saye," quod she, "at my beginning,
whan I receyved thee firste for to serve, that thy jewel, thilke Margaryte
thou desyrest, was closed in a muskle with a blewe shel."
"Ye, forsothe," quod I; "so I sayd; and so
it is."
"Wel," quod she, "every-thing kyndly sheweth
it-selfe; this jewel, closed in a blewe shel, [by] excellence of coloures
sheweth vertue from within; and so every wight shulde rather loke to the
propre vertue of thinges than to his forayne goodes. If a thing be engendred
of good mater, comenly and for the more part, it foloweth, after the congelement,
vertue of the first mater (and it be not corrupt with vyces) to procede
with encrees of good vertues; eke right so it fareth of badde. Trewly,
greet excellence in vertue of linage, for the more part, discendeth by
kynde to the succession in vertues to folowe. Wherfore I saye, the *colour
of every Margarit sheweth from within the fynesse in vertue. Kyndely heven,
whan mery *weder is a-lofte, apereth in mannes eye of coloure in blewe,
stedfastnesse in pees betokening within and without. Margaryte is engendred
by hevenly dewe, and sheweth in it-selfe, by fynenesse of colour, whether
the engendrure were maked on morowe or on eve; thus sayth kynde of this
perle. This precious Margaryte that thou servest, sheweth it-selfe discended,
by nobley of vertue, from this hevenlich dewe, norisshed and congeled in
mekenesse, that *moder is of al vertues; and, by werkes that men seen withouten,
the significacion of the coloures ben shewed, mercy and pitee in the herte,
with pees to al other; and al this is y-closed in a muskle, who-so redily
these vertues loken. Al thing that hath soule is reduced in-to good by
mene thinges, as thus: In-to god man is reduced by soules resonable; and
so forth beestes, or bodyes that mowe not moven, after place ben reduced
in-to manne by beestes *mene that moven from place to place. So that thilke
bodyes that han felinge soules, and move not from places, holden the lowest
degree of soulinge thinges in felinge; and suche ben reduced in-to man
by menes. So it foloweth, the muskle, as *moder of al vertues, halt the
place of mekenesse, to his lowest degree discendeth downe of heven, and
there, by a maner of virgine engendrure, arn these Margarytes engendred,
and afterward congeled. Made not mekenesse so lowe the hye heven, to enclose
and cacche out therof so noble a dewe, that after congelement, a Margaryte,
with endelesse vertue and everlasting joy, was with ful vessel of grace
yeven to every creature, that goodly wolde it receyve?"
"Certes," quod I, "these thinges ben right
noble; I have er this herd these same sawes."
"Than," quod she, "thou wost wel these thinges
ben sothe?"
"Ye, forsothe," quod I, "at the ful."
"Now," quod she, "that this Margaryte is ful
of vertue, it is wel proved; wherfore som grace, som mercy, among other
vertues, I wot right wel, on thee shal discende?"
"Ye," quod I; "yet wolde I have better declared,
vertues in this Margarite kyndely to ben grounded."
"That shal I shew thee," quod she, "and thou
woldest it lerne."
"Lerne?" quod I, "what nedeth suche wordes?
Wete ye nat wel, lady, your-selfe, that al my cure, al my diligence, and
al my might, have turned by your counsayle, in plesaunce of that perle?
Al my thought and al my studye, with your helpe, desyreth, in worshippe
[of] thilke jewel, to encrese al my travayle and al my besinesse in your
service, this Margaryte to gladde in some halve. Me were lever her honour,
her plesaunce, and her good chere thorow me for to be mayntayned and kept,
and I of suche thinge in her lykinge to be cause, than al the welthe of
bodily goodes ye coude recken. And wolde never god but I putte my-selfe
in greet jeopardy of al that I *welde, (that is now no more but my lyf
alone), rather than I shulde suffre thilke jewel in any pointe ben blemisshed;
as ferre as I may suffre, and with my mightes strecche."
"Suche thing," quod she, "may mokel further
thy grace, and thee in my service avaunce. But now (quod Love) wilt thou
graunte me thilke Margaryte to ben good?"
"O! good *god," quod I, "why tempte ye me and
tene with suche maner speche? I wolde graunt that, though I shulde anon
dye; and, by my trouthe, fighte in the quarel, if any wight wolde countreplede."
"It is so moche the lighter," quod Love, "to
prove our entent."
"Ye," quod I; "but yet wolde I here how ye
wolde prove that she were good by resonable skil, that it mowe not ben
denyed. For although I knowe, and so doth many other, manifold goodnesse
and vertue in this Margaryte ben printed, yet some men there ben that no
goodnesse speken; and, wher-ever your wordes ben herd and your resons ben
shewed, suche yvel spekers, lady, by auctoritè of your excellence,
shullen be stopped and ashamed! And more, they that han non aquayntaunce
in her persone, yet mowe they knowe her vertues, and ben the more enfourmed
in what wyse they mowe sette their hertes, whan hem liste in-to your service
any entree make. For trewly al this to beginne, I wot wel my-selfe that
thilke jewel is so precious perle, as a womanly woman in her kynde; in
whom of goodnesse, of vertue, and also of answeringe shappe of limmes,
and fetures so wel in al pointes acording, nothing fayleth. I leve that
kynde her made with greet studye; for kynde in her person nothing hath
foryet[en], and that is wel sene. In every good wightes herte she hath
grace of commending and of vertuous praysing. Alas! that ever kynde made
her deedly! Save only in that, I wot wel, that Nature, in fourminge of
her, in no-thinge hath erred."
"CERTES," quod Love, "thou hast wel begonne; and I aske
thee this question: Is not, in general, every-thing good?"
"I not," quod I.
"No?" quod she; "*saw not god everything that
he made, and weren right good?"
"Than is wonder," quod I, "how yvel thinges
comen a-place, sithen that al thinges weren right good."
"Thus," quod she, "I wol declare. Everiche
qualitè and every accion, and every thing that hath any maner of
beinge, it is of god; and god it made, of whom is al goodnesse and al being.
Of him is no badnesse. Badde to be, is naught; good to be, is somwhat;
and therfore good and being is oon in understanding."
"How may this be?" quod I. "For often han shrewes
me assailed, and mokel badnesse therin have I founden; and so me semeth
bad to be somwhat in kynde."
"Thou shalt," quod she, "understande that suche
maner badnesse, whiche is used to purifye wrong-doers, is somwhat; and
god it made, and being [it] hath; and that is good. Other badnesse no being
hath utterly; it is in the negative of somwhat, and that is naught and
nothing being. The parties essential of being arn sayd in double wyse,
as that it is; and these parties ben founde in every creature. For al thing,
a this halfe the first being, is being through participacion, taking partie
of being; so that [in] every creature is difference bitwene being of him
through whom it is, and his own being. Right as every good is a maner of
being, so is it good thorow being; for it is naught other to be. And every
thing, though it be good, is not of him-selfe good; but it is good by that
it is ordinable to the greet goodnesse. This dualitè, after clerkes
*determinison, is founden in every creature, be it never so single of onhed."
"Ye," quod I; "but there-as it is y-sayd that
god *saw everything of his making, and [they] were right good (as your-selfe
sayd to me not longe tyme sithen), I aske whether every creature is y-sayd
`good' through goodnesse unfourmed eyther els fourmed; and afterward, if
it be accept utterly good?"
"I shal say thee," quod she. "These grete passed
clerkes han devyded good in-to good being alone, and that is nothing but
*god, for nothing is good in that wyse but god: also, in good by participacion,
and that is y-cleped `good' for far fet and representative of *godly goodnesse.
And after this maner manyfold good is sayd, that is to saye, good in kynde,
and good in gendre, and good of grace, and good of joy. Of good in kynde
Austen sayth, `al that ben, ben good.' But peraunter thou woldest wete,
whether of hem-selfe it be good, or els of anothers goodnesse: for naturel
goodnesse of every substaunce is nothing els than his substancial being,
which is y-cleped `goodnesse' after comparison that he hath to his first
goodnesse, so as it is inductatife by menes in-to the first goodnesse.
Boece sheweth this thing at the ful, that this name `good' is, in general,
name in kynde, as it is comparisoned generally to his principal ende, which
is god, knotte of al goodnesse. Every creature cryeth `god us made'; and
so they han ful apeted to thilke god by affeccion such as to hem longeth;
and in this wyse al thinges ben good of the gret god, which is good alone."
"This wonder thing," quod I, "how ye have by
many resons proved my first way to be errour and misgoing, and cause[d]
of badnesse and feble meninge in the grounde ye aleged to be roted. Whence
is it that suche badnesse hath springes, sithen al thinges thus in general
ben good, and badnesse hath no being, as ye have declared? I wene, if al
things ben good, I might than with the first way in that good have ended,
and so by goodnesse have comen to blisse in your service desyred."
"Al thing," quod she, "is good by being in
participacion out of the firste goodnesse, whiche goodnesse is corrupt
by badnesse and badde-mening maners. God hath [ordeyned] in good thinges,
that they ben good by being, and not in yvel; for there is absence of rightful
love. For badnesse is nothing but only yvel wil of the user, and through
giltes of the doer; wherfore, at the ginninge of the worlde, every thing
by him-selfe was good; and in universal they weren right good. An eye or
a hand is fayrer and betterer in a body set, in his kyndely place, than
from the body dissevered. Every thing in his kyndly place, being kyndly,
good doth werche; and, out of that place voyded, it dissolveth and is defouled
himselve. Our noble god, in gliterande wyse, by armony this world ordeyned,
as in purtreytures storied with colours medled, in whiche blacke and other
derke colours commenden the golden and the asured paynture; every put in
kyndely place, oon, besyde another, more for other glitereth. Right so
litel fayr maketh right fayr more glorious; and right so, of goodnesse,
and of other thinges in vertue. Wherfore other badde and not so good perles
as this Margaryte that we han of this matier, yeven by the ayre litel goodnesse
and litel vertue, [maken] right mokel goodnesse and vertue in thy Margaryte
to ben proved, in shyning wyse to be founde and shewed. How shulde ever
goodnesse of pees have ben knowe, but-if unpees somtyme reigne, and mokel
yvel *wrathe? How shulde mercy ben proved, and no trespas were, by due
justificacion, to be punisshed? Therfore grace and goodnesse of a wight
is founde; the sorouful hertes in good meninge to endure, ben comforted;
unitè and acord bitwene hertes knit in joye to abyde. What? wenest
thou I rejoyce or els accompte him among my servauntes that pleseth Pallas
in undoinge of Mercurye, al-be-it that to Pallas he be knit by tytle of
lawe, not according to resonable conscience, and Mercurie in doinge have
grace to ben suffered; or els him that *weyveth the moone for fayrenesse
of the eve-sterre? Lo! otherwhyle by nightes, light of the moone greetly
comforteth in derke thoughtes and blynde. Understanding of love yeveth
greet gladnesse. Who-so list not byleve, whan a sothe tale is shewed, a
dewe and a deblys his name is entred. Wyse folk and worthy in gentillesse,
bothe of vertue and of livinge, yeven ful credence in sothnesse of love
with a good herte, there-as good evidence or experience in doinge sheweth
not the contrarie. Thus mightest thou have ful preef in thy Margarytes
goodnesse, by commendement of other jewels badnesse and yvelnesse in doing.
Stoundemele diseses yeveth several houres in joye."
"Now, by my trouthe," quod I, "this is wel
declared, that my Margaryte is good; for sithen other ben good, and she
passeth manye other in goodnesse and vertue; wherthrough, by maner necessarie,
she muste be good. And goodnesse of this Margaryte is nothing els but vertue;
wherfore she is vertuous; and if there fayled any vertue in any syde, there
were lacke of vertue. Badde nothing els is, ne may be, but lacke and want
of good and goodnesse; and so shulde she have that same lacke, that is
to saye, badde; and that may not be. For she is good; and that is good,
me thinketh, al good; and so, by consequence, me semeth, vertuous, and
no lacke of vertue to have. But the sonne is not knowe but he shyne; ne
vertuous herbes, but they have her kynde werchinge; ne vertue, but it strecche
in goodnesse or profyt to another, is no vertue. Than, by al wayes of reson,
sithen mercy and pitee ben moste commended among other vertues, and they
might never ben shewed, [unto] refresshement of helpe and of comfort, but
now at my moste nede; and that is the kynde werkinge of these vertues;
trewly, I wene, I shal not varye from these helpes. Fyr, and-if he yeve
non hete, for fyre is not demed. The sonne, but he shyne, for sonne is
not accompted. Water, but it wete, the name shal ben chaunged. Vertue,
but it werche, of goodnesse doth it fayle; and in-to his contrarie the
name shal ben reversed. And these ben impossible; wherfore the contradictorie,
that is necessarye, nedes muste I leve."
"Certes," quod she, "in thy person and out
of thy mouthe these wordes lyen wel to ben said, and in thyne understanding
to be leved, as in entent of this Margaryte alone. And here now my speche
in conclusion of these wordes.
IN these thinges," quod she, "that me list now to shewe openly,
shal be founde the mater of thy sicknesse, and what shal ben the medicyn
that may be thy sorowes lisse and comfort, as wel thee as al other that
amisse have erred and out of the way walked, so that any drope of good
wil in amendement [may] ben dwelled in their hertes. Proverbes of Salomon
openly techeth, how somtyme an innocent walkid by the way in blyndnesse
of a derke night; whom mette a woman (if it be leefly to saye) as a strumpet
arayed, redily purveyed in turninge of thoughtes with veyne janglinges,
and of rest inpacient, by dissimulacion of my termes, saying in this wyse:
`Com, and be we dronken of our swete pappes; use we coveitous collinges.'
And thus drawen was this innocent, as an oxe to the larder."
"Lady," quod I, "to me this is a queynte thing
to understande; I praye you, of this parable declare me the entent."
"This innocent," quod she, "is a scoler lerninge
of my lore, in seching of my blisse, in whiche thinge the day of his thought
turning enclyneth in-to eve; and the sonne, of very light faylinge, maketh
derke night in his conninge. Thus in derknesse of many doutes he walketh,
and for blyndenesse of understandinge, he ne wot in what waye he is in;
forsothe, suche oon may lightly ben begyled. To whom cam love fayned, not
clothed of my livery, but [of] unlefful lusty habit, with softe speche
and mery; and with fayre honyed wordes heretykes and mis-meninge people
skleren and wimplen their errours. Austen witnesseth of an heretyk, that
in his first beginninge he was a man right expert in resons and swete in
his wordes; and the werkes miscorden. Thus fareth fayned love in her firste
werchinges. Thou knowest these thinges for trewe; thou hast hem proved
by experience somtyme, in doing to thyne owne person; in whiche thing thou
hast founde mater of mokel disese. Was not fayned love redily purveyed,
thy wittes to cacche and tourne thy good thoughtes? Trewly, she hath wounded
the conscience of many with florisshinge of mokel jangling wordes; and
good worthe thanked I it for no glose. I am glad of my prudence thou hast
so manly her *weyved. To me art thou moche holden, that in thy kynde course
of good mening I returne thy mynde. I trowe, ne had I shewed thee thy Margaryte,
thou haddest never returned. Of first in good parfit joye was ever fayned
love impacient, as the water of Siloë, whiche evermore floweth with
stilnesse and privy noyse til it come nighe the brinke, and than ginneth
it so out of mesure to bolne, with novelleries of chaunging stormes, that
in course of every renning it is in pointe to spille al his circuit of
*bankes. Thus fayned love prively, at the fullest of his flowinge, [ginneth]
newe stormes [of] debat to arayse. And al-be-it that Mercurius [servants]
often with hole understandinge knowen suche perillous maters, yet Veneriens
so lusty ben and so leude in their wittes, that in suche thinges right
litel or naught don they fele; and wryten and cryen to their felawes: `here
is blisse, here is joye'; and thus in-to one same errour mokel folk they
drawen. `Come,' they sayen, `and be we dronken of our pappes'; that ben
fallas and lying glose, of whiche mowe they not souke milke of helthe,
but deedly venim and poyson, corrupcion of sorowe. Milke of fallas is venim
of disceyt; milke of lying glose is venim of corrupcion. Lo! what thing
cometh out of these pappes! `Use we coveited collinges'; desyre we and
meddle we false wordes with sote, and sote with false! Trewly, this is
the sorinesse of fayned love; nedes, of these surfettes sicknesse muste
folowe. Thus, as an oxe, to thy langoring deth were thou drawen; the sote
of the smoke hath thee al defased. Ever the deper thou somtyme wadest,
the soner thou it founde; if it had thee killed, it had be litel wonder.
But on that other syde, my trewe servaunt[s] not faynen ne disceyve conne;
sothly, their doinge is open; my foundement endureth, be the burthen never
so greet; ever in one it lasteth. It yeveth lyf and blisful goodnesse in
the laste endes, though the ginninges ben sharpe. Thus of two contraries,
contrarye ben the effectes. And so thilke Margaryte thou servest shal seen
thee, by her service out of perillous tribulacion delivered, bycause of
her service in-to newe disese fallen, by hope of amendement in the laste
ende, with joye to be gladded. Wherfore, of kynde pure, her mercy with
grace of good helpe shal she graunte; and els I shal her so strayne, that
with pitè shal she ben amaystred. Remembre in thyne herte how horribly
somtyme to thyne Margaryte thou trespasest, and in a grete wyse ayenst
her thou forfeytest! Clepe ayen thy mynde, and know thyne owne giltes.
What goodnesse, what bountee, with mokel folowing pitè founde thou
in that tyme? Were thou not goodly accepted in-to grace? By my pluckinge
was she to foryevenesse enclyned. And after, I her styred to drawe thee
to house; and yet wendest thou utterly for ever have ben refused. But wel
thou wost, sithen that I in suche sharpe disese might so greetly avayle,
what thinkest in thy wit? How fer may my wit strecche? And thou lache not
on thy syde, I wol make the knotte. Certes, in thy good bering I wol acorde
with the psauter: `I have founde David in my service true, and with holy
oyle of pees and of rest, longe by him desyred, utterly he shal be anoynted.'
Truste wel to me, and I wol thee not fayle. The *leving of the first way
with good herte of continuance that I see in thee grounded, this purpose
to parfourme, draweth me by maner of constrayning, that nedes muste I ben
thyne helper. Although mirthe a whyle be taried, it shal come at suche
seson, that thy thought shal ben joyed. And wolde never god, sithen thyne
herte to my resons arn assented, and openly hast confessed thyne amisse-going,
and now cryest after mercy, but-if mercy folowed; thy blisse shal ben redy,
y-wis; thou ne wost how sone. Now be a good child, I rede. The kynde of
vertues, in thy Margaryte rehersed, by strength of me in thy person shul
werche. Comfort thee in this; for thou mayst not miscary."
And these wordes sayd, she streyght her on length, and rested
a whyle.
Thus endeth the seconde book, and here after foloweth the
thirde book.