(Skeat)
NB Bressie, Jellech, and others have shown Skeat's order for Book 3 to be incorrect -- use with caution.
OF nombre, sayn these clerkes, that it is naturel somme of discrete
thinges, as in tellinge oon, two, three, and so forth; but among al nombres,
three is determined for moste certayn. Wherfore in nombre certayn this
werk of my besy leudenesse I thinke to ende and parfourme. Ensample by
this worlde, in three tymes is devyded; of whiche the first is cleped *Deviacion,
that is to say, going out of trewe way; and al that tho dyeden, in helle
were they punisshed for a man[ne]s sinne, til grace and mercy fette hem
thence, and there ended the firste tyme. The seconde tyme lasteth from
the comming of merciable grace until the ende of transitorie tyme, in whiche
is shewed the true way in fordoinge of the badde; and that is y-cleped
tyme of Grace. And that thing is not yeven by desert of yeldinge oon benefyt
for another, but only through goodnesse of the yever of grace in thilke
tyme. Who-so can wel understande is shapen to be saved in souled blisse.
The thirde tyme shal ginne whan transitorie thinges of worldes han mad
their ende; and that shal ben in Joye, glorie, and rest, both body and
soule, that wel han deserved in the tyme of Grace. And thus in that heven
*togider shul they dwelle perpetuelly, without any imaginatyfe yvel in
any halve. These tymes are figured by tho three dayes that our god was
closed in erthe; and in the thirde aroos, shewing our resurreccion to joye
and blisse of tho that it deserven, by his merciable grace. So this leude
book, in three maters, accordaunt to tho tymes, lightly by a good inseër
may ben understonde; as in the firste, Errour of misse-goinge is shewed,
with sorowful pyne punisshed *that cryed after mercy. In the seconde, is
Grace in good waye proved, whiche is faylinge without desert, thilke first
misse amendinge, in correccion of tho erroures, and even way to bringe,
with comfort of welfare in-to amendement wexinge. And in the thirde, Joye
and blisse graunted to him that wel can deserve it, and hath savour of
understandinge in the tyme of grace. Thus in Joye, of my thirde boke, shal
the mater be til it ende.
But special cause I have in my herte to make this proces
of a Margarit-perle, that is so precious a gemme *whyt, clere and litel,
of whiche stones or jewel[les] the tonges of us Englissh people tourneth
the right names, and clepeth hem "Margery-perles"; thus varieth
our speche from many other langages. For trewly Latin, Frenche, and many
mo other langages clepeth hem, Margery-perles, [by] the name "Margarites,"
or "Margarite-perles"; wherfore in that denominacion I wol me
acorde to other mens tonges, in that name- cleping. These clerkes that
treten of kyndes, and studien out the propertee there of thinges, sayn:
the Margarite is a litel whyt perle, throughout holowe and rounde and vertuous;
and on the see-sydes, in the more Britayne, in muskle-shelles, of the hevenly
dewe, the best ben engendred; in whiche by experience ben founde three
fayre vertues. Oon is, it yeveth comfort to the feling spirites in bodily
persones of reson. Another is good; it is profitable helthe ayenst passions
of sorie mens hertes. And the thirde, it is nedeful and noble in staunching
of bloode, there els to moche wolde out renne. To whiche perle and vertues
me list to lyken at this tyme Philosophie, with her three speces, that
is, natural, and moral, and resonable; of whiche thinges hereth what sayn
these grete clerkes. Philosophie is knowing of devynly and manly thinges
joyned with studie of good living; and this stant in two thinges, that
is, conninge and opinion. Conninge is whan a thing by certayn reson is
conceyved. But wrecches and fooles and leude men, many wil conceyve a thing
and mayntayne it as for sothe, though reson be in the contrarye; wherfore
conninge is a straunger. Opinion is whyl a thing is in non-certayn, and
hid from mens very knowleging, and by no parfit reson fully declared, as
thus: if the sonne be so mokel as men wenen, or els if it be more than
the erthe. For in sothnesse the certayn quantitè of that planet
is unknowen to erthly dwellers; and yet by opinion of some men it is holden
for more than midle-erth.
The first spece of philosophie is naturel; whiche in
kyndely thinges *treteth, and sheweth causes of heven, and strength of
kyndely course; as by arsmetrike, geometry, musike, and by astronomye techeth
wayes and cours of hevens, of planetes, and of sterres aboute heven and
erthe, and other elementes.
The seconde spece is moral, whiche, in order, of living
maners techeth; and by reson proveth vertues of soule moste worthy in our
living; whiche ben prudence, justice, temperaunce, and strength. Prudence
is goodly wisdom in knowing of thinges. Strength voideth al adversitees
aliche even. Temperaunce distroyeth beestial living with esy bering. And
Justice rightfully jugeth; and juging departeth to every wight that is
his owne.
The thirde spece turneth in-to reson of understanding;
al thinges to be sayd soth and discussed; and that in two thinges is devyded.
Oon is art, another is rethorike; in whiche two al lawes of mans reson
ben grounded or els maintayned.
And for this book is of LOVE, and therafter bereth his
name, and philosophie and lawe muste here-to acorden by their clergial
discripcions, as: philosophie for love of wisdom is declared, lawe for
mainteynaunce of pees is holden: and these with love must nedes acorden;
therfore of hem in this place have I touched. Ordre of homly thinges and
honest maner of livinge in vertue, with rightful jugement in causes and
profitable administracion in comminaltees of realmes and citees by evenhed
profitably to raigne, nat by singuler avauntage ne by prive envy, ne by
soleyn purpos in covetise of worship or of goodes, ben disposed in open
rule shewed, by love, philosophy, and lawe, and yet love, toforn al other.
Wherfore as sustern in unitè they accorden, and oon ende, that is,
pees and rest, they causen norisshinge; and in the joye maynteynen to endure.
Now than, as I have declared: my book acordeth with discripcion
of three thinges; and the Margarit in vertue is lykened to Philosophy,
with her three speces. In whiche maters ever twey ben acordaunt with bodily
reson, and the thirde with the soule. But in conclusion of my boke and
of this Margarite-perle in knittinge togider, Lawe by three sondrye maners
shal be lykened; that is to saye, lawe, right, and custome, whiche I wol
declare. Al that is lawe cometh of goddes ordinaunce, by kyndly worching;
and thilke thinges ordayned by mannes wittes arn y-cleped right, which
is ordayned by many maners and in constitucion written. But custome is
a thing that is accepted for right or for lawe, there-as lawe and right
faylen; and there is no difference, whether it come of scripture or of
reson. Wherfore it sheweth, that lawe is kyndly governaunce; right cometh
out of mannes probable reson; and custome is of commen usage by length
of tyme used; and custome nat writte is usage; and if it be writte, constitucion
it is y-written and y-cleped. But lawe of kynde is commen to every nation,
as conjunccion of man and woman in love, succession of children in heritance,
restitucion of thing by strength taken or lent; and this lawe among al
other halt the soveraynest gree in worship; whiche lawe began at the beginning
of resonable creature; it varied yet never for no chaunging of tyme. Cause,
forsothe, in ordayning of lawe was to constrayne mens hardinesse in-to
pees, and withdrawing his yvel wil, and turning malice in-to goodnesse;
and that innocence sikerly, withouten teneful anoye, among shrewes safely
might inhabite by proteccion of safe-conducte, so that the shrewes, harm
for harme, by brydle of ferdnesse shulden restrayne. But forsothe, in kyndely
lawe, nothing is commended but such as goddes wil hath confirmed, ne nothing
denyed but contrarioustee of goddes wil in heven. Eke than al lawes, or
custome, or els constitucion by usage or wryting, that contraryen lawe
of kynde, utterly ben repugnaunt and adversarie to our goddes wil of heven.
Trewly, lawe of kynde for goddes own lusty wil is verily to mayntayne;
under whiche lawe (and unworthy) bothe professe and reguler arn obediencer
and bounden to this Margarite-perle as by knotte of loves statutes and
stablisshment in kynde, whiche that goodly may not be withsetten. Lo! under
this bonde am I constrayned to abyde; and man, under living lawe ruled,
by that lawe oweth, after desertes, to ben rewarded by payne or by mede,
but-if mercy weyve the payne. So than *thy part resonfully may be seye,
that mercy bothe right and lawe passeth. Th' entent of al these maters
is the lest clere understanding, to weten, at th'ende of this thirde boke;
ful knowing, thorow goddes grace, I thinke to make neverthelater. Yet if
these thinges han a good and a *sleigh inseër, whiche that can souke
hony of the harde stone, oyle of the drye rocke, [he] may lightly fele
nobley of mater in my leude imaginacion closed. But for my book shal be
of joye (as I sayd), and I [am] so fer set fro thilke place fro whens gladnesse
shulde come; my corde is to short to lete my boket ought cacche of that
water; and fewe men be abouten my corde to eche, and many in ful purpos
ben redy it shorter to make, and to enclose th'entre, that my boket of
joye nothing shulde cacche, but empty returne, my careful sorowes to encrese:
(and if I dye for payne, that were gladnesse at their hertes): good lord,
send me water in-to the cop of these mountayns, and I shal drinke therof,
my thurstes to stanche, and sey, these be comfortable welles; in-to helth
of goodnesse of my saviour am I holpen. And yet I saye more, the house
of joye to me is nat opened. How dare my sorouful goost than in any mater
of gladnesse thinken to trete? For ever sobbinges and complayntes be redy
refrete in his meditacions, as werbles in manifolde stoundes comming about
I not than. And therfore, what maner of joye coude [I] endyte? But yet
at dore shal I knocke, if the key of David wolde the locke unshitte, and
he bringe me in, whiche that childrens tonges both openeth and closeth;
whos spirit where he *wol wercheth, departing goodly as him lyketh.
Now to goddes laude and reverence, profit of the reders,
amendement of maners of the herers, encresing of worship among Loves servauntes,
releving of my herte in-to grace of my jewel, and fren[d]ship [in] plesance
of this perle, I am stered in this making, and for nothing els; and if
any good thing to mennes lyking in this scripture be founde, thanketh the
maister of grace, whiche that of that good and al other is authour and
principal doer. And if any thing be insufficient or els mislyking, *wyte
that the leudnesse of myne unable conning: for body in disese anoyeth the
understanding in soule. A disesely habitacion letteth the wittes [in] many
thinges, and namely in sorowe. The custome never-the-later of Love, *by
long tyme of service, in termes I thinke to pursue, whiche ben lyvely to
yeve under-standing in other thinges. But now, to enforme thee of this
Margarites goodnesse, I may her not halfe preyse. Wherfore, nat she for
my boke, but this book for her, is worthy to be commended, tho my book
be leude; right as thinges nat for places, but places for thinges, ought
to be desyred and praysed.
"NOW," quod Love, "trewly thy wordes I have wel understonde.
Certes, me thinketh hem right good; and me wondreth why thou so lightly
passest in the lawe."
"Sothly," quod I, "my wit is leude, and
I am right blynd, and that mater depe. How shulde I than have waded? Lightly
might I have drenched, and spilte ther my-selfe."
"Ye," quod she, "I shal helpe thee to
swimme. For right as lawe punissheth brekers of preceptes and the contrary-doers
of the written constitucions, right so ayenward lawe rewardeth and yeveth
mede to hem that lawe strengthen. By one lawe this rebel is punisshed and
this innocent is meded; the shrewe is enprisoned and this rightful is corowned.
The same lawe that joyneth by wedlocke without forsaking, the same lawe
yeveth lybel of departicion bycause of devorse both demed and declared."
"Ye, ye," quod I, "I fynde in no lawe
to mede and rewarde in goodnes the gilty of desertes."
"Fole," quod she, "gilty, converted in
your lawe, mikel merit deserveth. Also Pauly[n] of Rome was crowned, that
by him the maynteyners of Pompeus weren knowen and distroyed; and yet toforn
was this Paulyn cheef of Pompeus counsaile. This lawe in Rome hath yet
his name of mesuring, in mede, the bewraying of the conspiracy, ordayned
by tho senatours the deth. Julius Cesar is acompted in-to Catons rightwisnesse;
for ever in trouth florissheth his name among the knowers of reson. Perdicas
was crowned in the heritage of Alexander the grete, for tellinge of a prevy
hate that king Porrus to Alexander hadde. Wherfore every wight, by reson
of lawe, after his rightwysenesse apertely his mede may chalenge; and so
thou, that maynteynest lawe of kynde, and therfore disese hast suffred
in the lawe, reward is worthy to be rewarded and ordayned, and *apertly
thy mede might thou chalenge."
"Certes," quod I, "this have I wel lerned;
and ever hensforward I shal drawe me therafter, in oonhed of wil to abyde,
this lawe bothe maynteyne and kepe; and so hope I best entre in-to your
grace, wel deservinge in-to worship of a wight, without nedeful compulsion,
[that] ought medefully to be rewarded."
"Truly," quod Love, "that is sothe; and
tho[ugh], by constitucion, good service in-to profit and avantage strecche,
utterly many men it demen to have more desert of mede than good wil nat
compelled."
"See now," quod I, "how *many men holden
of this the contrary. And what is good service? Of you wolde I here this
questlon declared."
"I shal say thee," quod she, "in a fewe
wordes:--resonable workinges in plesaunce and profit of thy soverayne."
"How shulde I this performe!" quod I.
"Right wel," quod she; "and here me now
a litel. It is hardely (quod she) to understande, that right as mater by
due overchaunginges foloweth his perfeccion and his forme, right so everyman,
by rightful werkinges, ought to folowe the lefful desyres in his herte,
and see toforn to what ende he deserveth. For many tymes he that loketh
nat after th'endes, but utterly therof is unknowen, befalleth often many
yvels to done, wherthrough, er he be war, shamefully he is confounded;
th'ende[s] therof neden to be before loked. To every desirer of suche foresight
in good service, three thinges specially nedeth to be rulers in his workes.
First, that he do good; next, that he do [it] by eleccion in his owne herte;
and the thirde, that he do godly, withouten any surquedry in thoughtes.
That your werkes shulden be good, in service or in any other actes, authoritès
many may be aleged; neverthelater, by reson thus may it be shewed. Al your
werkes be cleped seconde, and moven in vertue of the firste wercher, whiche
in good workes wrought you to procede; and right so your werkes moven in-to
vertue of the laste ende: and right in the first workinge were nat, no
man shulde in the seconde werche. Right so, but ye feled to what ende,
and seen their goodnes closed, ye shulde no more *recche what ye wrought;
but the ginning gan with good, and there shal it cese in the laste ende,
if it be wel considred. Wherfore the middle, if other-wayes it drawe than
accordant to the endes, there stinteth the course of good, and another
maner course entreth; and so it is a partie by himselve; and every part
[that] be nat accordant to his al, is foul and ought to be eschewed. Wherfore
every thing that is wrought and be nat good, is nat accordant to th'endes
of his al hole; it is foul, and ought to be withdrawe. Thus the persons
that neither don good ne harm shamen foule their making. Wherfore, without
working of good actes in good service, may no man ben accepted. Truely,
the ilke that han might to do good and doon it nat, the crowne of worship
shal be take from hem, and with shame shul they be anulled; and so, to
make oon werke acordant with his endes, every good servaunt, by reson of
consequence, muste do good nedes. Certes, it suffiseth nat alone to do
good, but goodly withal folowe; the thanke of goodnesse els in nought he
deserveth. For right as al your being come from the greetest good, in whom
al goodnesse is closed, right so your endes ben directe to the same good.
Aristotel determineth that ende and good ben one, and convertible in understanding;
and he that in wil doth awey good, and he that loketh nat to th'ende, loketh
nat to good; but he that doth good and doth nat goodly, [and] draweth away
the direction of th'ende nat goodly, must nedes be badde. Lo! badde is
nothing els but absence or negative of good, as derkenesse is absence or
negative of light. Than he that dooth [not] goodly, directeth thilke good
in-to th'ende of badde; so muste thing nat good folowe: eke badnesse to
suche folke ofte foloweth. Thus contrariaunt workers of th'ende that is
good ben worthy the contrary of th'ende that is good to have."
"How," quod I, "may any good dede be doon,
but-if goodly it helpe?"
"Yes," quod Love, "the devil doth many
good dedes, but goodly he leveth be-hynde; for *ever badly and in disceyvable
wyse he worketh; wherfore the contrary of th'ende him foloweth. And do
he never so many good dedes, bicause goodly is away, his goodnes is nat
rekened. Lo! than, tho[ugh] a man do good, but he do goodly, th'ende in
goodnesse wol nat folowe; and thus in good service both good dede and goodly
doon musten joyne togider, and that it be doon with free choise in herte;
and els deserveth he nat the merit in goodnes: that wol I prove. For if
thou do any-thing good by chaunce or by happe, in what thing art thou therof
worthy to be commended? For nothing, by reson of that, turneth in-to thy
praysing ne lacking. Lo! thilke thing doon by hap, by thy wil is nat caused;
and therby shulde I thanke or lacke deserve? And sithen that fayleth, th'ende
which that wel shulde rewarde, must ned[e]s faile. Clerkes sayn, no man
but willinge is blessed; a good dede that he hath doon is nat doon of free
choice willing; without whiche blissednesse may nat folowe. Ergo, neither
thanke of goodnesse ne service [is] in that [that] is contrary of the good
ende. So than, to good service longeth good dede goodly don, thorow free
choice in herte."
"Truely," quod I, "this have I wel understande."
"Wel," quod she, "every thing thus doon
sufficiently by lawe, that is cleped justice, [may] after-reward clayme.
For lawe and justice was ordayned in this wyse, suche desertes in goodnesse,
after quantitè in doinge, by mede to rewarde; and of necessitè
of suche justice, that is to say, rightwysenesse, was free choice in deserving
of wel or of yvel graunted to resonable creatures. Every man hath free
arbitrement to chose, good or yvel to performe."
"Now," quod I tho, "if I by my good wil
deserve this Margarit- perle, and am nat therto compelled, and have free
choice to do what me lyketh; she is than holden, as me thinketh, to rewarde
th'entent of my good wil."
"Goddes forbode els," quod Love; "no wight
meneth otherwyse, I trowe; free wil of good herte after-mede deserveth."
"Hath every man," quod I, "free choice
by necessary maner of wil in every of his doinges that him lyketh, by goddes
proper purvyaunce? I wolde see that wel declared to my leude understanding;
for `necessary' and `necessitè' ben wordes of mokel entencion, closing
(as to saye) so mote it be nedes, and otherwyse may it nat betyde."
"This shalt thou lerne," quod she, "so
thou take hede in my speche. If it were nat in mannes owne libertè
of free Wil to do good or bad, but to the one teyed by bonde of goddes
preordinaunce, than, do he never so wel, it were by nedeful compulcion
of thilk bonde, and nat by free choice, wherby nothing he desyreth: and
do he never so yvel, it were nat man for to wyte, but onlich to him that
suche thing ordayned him to done. Wherfore he ne ought for bad[de] be punisshed,
ne for no good dede be rewarded; but of necessitè of rightwisnesse
was therfore free choice of arbitrement put in mans proper disposicion.
Truely, if it were otherwyse, it contraried goddes charitè, that
badnesse and goodnesse rewardeth after desert of payne or of mede."
"Me thinketh this wonder," quod I; "for
god by necessitè forwot al thinges coming, and so mote it nedes
be, and thilke thinges that ben don *by our free choice comen nothing of
necessitè but only *by wil. How may this stonde *togider? And so
me thinketh truely, that free choice fully repugneth goddes forweting.
Trewly, lady, me semeth, they mowe nat stande *togider."
THAN gan Love nighe me nere, and with a noble countenance of visage
and limmes, dressed her nigh my sitting-place.
"Take forth," quod she, "thy pen, and
redily wryte these wordes. For if god wol, I shal hem so enforme to thee,
that thy leudnesse which I have understande in that mater shal openly be
clered, and thy sight in ful loking therin amended. First, if thou thinke
that goddes prescience repugne libertè of arbitrement, it is impossible
that they shulde accorde in onheed of sothe to understonding."
"Ye," quod I, "forsothe; so I it conceyve."
"Wel," quod she, "if thilke impossible
were away, the repugnaunce that semeth to be therin were utterly removed."
"Shewe me the absence of that impossibilitè,"
quod I.
"So," quod she, "I shal. Now I suppose
that they mowe stande togider: prescience of god, whom foloweth necessitè
of thinges comming, and libertè of arbitrement, thorow whiche thou
belevest many thinges to be without necessitè."
"Bothe these proporcions be sothe," quod I,
"and wel mowe stande togider; wherfore this case as possible I admit."
"Truely," quod she, "and this case is
impossible."
"How so?" quod I.
"For herof," quod she, "foloweth and wexeth
another impossible."
"Prove me that," quod I.
"That I shal," quod she; "for somthing
is comming without necessitè, and god wot that toforn; for al thing
comming he before wot, and that he beforn wot of necessitè is comming,
as he beforn wot be the case by necessary maner; or els, thorow necessitè,
is somthing to be without necessitè; and wheder, to every wight
that hath good understanding, is seen these thinges to be repugnaunt: prescience
of god, whiche that foloweth necessitè, and libertè of arbitrement,
fro whiche is removed necessitè? For truely, it is necessary that
god have forweting of thing withouten any necessitè cominge."
"Ye," quod I; "but yet remeve ye nat away
fro myne understanding the necessitè folowing goddes be foreweting,
as thus. God beforn wot me in service of love to be bounden to this Margarite-perle,
and therfore by necessitè thus to love am I bounde; and if I had
nat loved, thorow necessitè had I ben kept from al love- dedes."
"Certes," quod Love, "bicause this mater
is good and necessary to declare, I thinke here-in wel to abyde, and not
lightly to passe. Thou shalt not (quod she) say al-only, `god beforn wot
me to be a lover or no lover,' but thus: `god beforn wot me to be a lover
without necessitè.' And so foloweth, whether thou love or not love,
every of hem is and shal be. But now thou seest the impossibilitè
of the case, and the possibilitè of thilke that thou wendest had
been impossible; wherfore the repugnaunce is adnulled."
"Ye," quod I; "and yet do ye not awaye
the strength of necessitè, whan it is said, th[r]ough necessitè
it is me in love to abyde, or not to love without necessitè for
god beforn wot it. This maner of necessitè forsothe semeth to some
men in-to co-accion, that is to sayne, constrayning, or else prohibicion,
that is, defendinge; wherfore necessitè is me to love of wil. I
understande me to be constrayned by some privy strength to the wil of lovinge;
and if [I] no[t] love, to be defended from the wil of lovinge: and so thorow
necessitè me semeth to love, for I love; or els not to love, if
I not love; wherthrough neither thank ne maugrè in tho thinges may
I deserve."
"Now," quod she, "thou shalt wel understande,
that often we sayn thing thorow necessitè to be, that by no strength
to be neither is coarted ne constrayned; and through necessitè not
to be, that with no defendinge is removed. For we sayn it is thorow necessitè
god to be immortal, nought deedliche; and it is necessitè, god to
be rightful; but not that any strength of violent maner constrayneth him
to be immortal, or defendeth him to be unrightful; for nothing may make
him dedly or unrightful. Right so, if I say, thorow necessitè is
thee to be a lover or els noon; only thorow wil, as god beforn wete. It
is nat to understonde that any thing defendeth or forbit thee thy wil,
whiche shal nat be; or els constrayneth it to be, whiche shal be. That
same thing, forsoth, god before wot, whiche he beforn seeth. Any thing
commende of only wil, that wil neyther is constrayned ne defended thorow
any other thing. And so thorow libertè of arbitrement it is do,
that is don of wil. And trewly, my good child, if these thinges be wel
understonde, I wene that non inconvenient shalt thou fynde betwene goddes
forweting and libertè of arbitrement; wherfore I wot wel they may
stande togider. Also farthermore, who that understanding of prescience
properlich considreth, thorow the same wyse that any-thing be afore wist
is said, for to be comming it is pronounced; there is nothing toforn wist
but thing comming; foreweting is but of trouth[e]; dout[e] may nat be wist;
wherfore, whan I sey that god toforn wot any-thing, thorow necessitè
is thilke thing to be comming; al is oon if I sey, it shal be. But this
necessitè neither constrayneth ne defendeth any-thing to be or nat
to be. Therfore sothly, if love is put to be, it is said of necessitè
to be; or els, for it is put nat to be, it is affirmed nat to be of necessitè;
nat for that necessitè constrayneth or defendeth love to be or nat
to be. For whan I say, if love shal be, of necessitè it shal be,
here foloweth necessitè the thing toforn put; it is as moch to say
as if it were thus pronounced--`that thing shal be.' Noon other thing signifyeth
this necessitè but only thus: that shal be, may nat togider be and
nat be. Evenlich also it is soth, love was, and is, and shal be, nat of
necessitè; and nede is to have be al that was; and nedeful is to
be al that is; and comming, to al that shal be. And it is nat the same
to saye, love to be passed, and love passed to be passed; or love present
to be present, and love to be present; or els love to be comminge, and
love comminge to be comming. Dyversitè in setting of wordes maketh
dyversitè in understandinge; altho[ugh] in the same sentence they
accorden of significacion; right as it is nat al oon, love swete to be
swete, and love to be swete. For moch love is bitter and sorouful, er hertes
ben esed; and yet it glad[d]eth thilke sorouful herte on suche love to
thinke."
"Forsothe," quod I, "outherwhile I have
had mokel blisse in herte of love that stoundmele hath me sorily anoyed.
And certes, lady, for I see my-self thus knit with this Margarite-perle
as by bonde of your service and of no libertè of wil, my herte wil
now nat acorde this service to love. I can demin in my-selfe non otherwise
but thorow necessitè am I constrayned in this service to abyde.
But alas! than, if I thorow nedeful compulsioun maugre me be with-holde,
litel thank for al my greet traveil have I than deserved."
"Now," quod this lady, "I saye as I sayde:
me lyketh this mater to declare at the ful, and why: for many men have
had dyvers fantasyes and resons, both on one syde therof and in the other.
Of whiche right sone, I trowe, if thou wolt understonde, thou shalt conne
yeve the sentence to the partie more probable by reson, and in soth knowing,
by that I have of this mater maked an ende."
"Certes," quod I, "of these thinges longe
have I had greet lust to be lerned; for yet, I wene, goddes wil and his
prescience acordeth with my service in lovinge of this precious Margarite-perle.
After whom ever, in my herte, with thursting desyre wete, I do brenne;
unwasting, I langour and fade; and the day of my desteny in dethe or in
joye I *onbyde; but yet in th'ende I am comforted *by my supposaile, in
blisse and in joye to determine after my desyres."
"That thing," quoth Love, "hastely to
thee neigh, god graunt of his grace and mercy! And this shal be my prayer,
til thou be lykende in herte at thyne owne wil. But now to enforme thee
in this mater (quod this lady) thou wost where I lefte; that was: love
to be swete, and love swete to be swete, is not al oon for to say. For
a tree is nat alway by necessitè white. Somtyme, er it were white,
it might have be nat white; and after tyme it is white, it may be nat white.
But a white tree evermore nedeful is to be white; for neither toforn ne
after it was white, might it be togider white and nat white. Also love,
by necessitè, is nat present as now in thee; for er it were present,
it might have be that it shulde now nat have be; and yet it may be that
it shal nat be present; but thy love present whiche to her, Margarite,
thee hath bounde, nedeful is to be present. Trewly, som doing of accion,
nat by necessitè, is comminge fer toforn it be; it may be that it
shal nat be comminge. Thing forsoth comming nedeful is to be comming; for
it may nat be that comming shal nat be comming. And right as I have sayd
of present and of future tymes, the same sentence in sothnesse is of the
preterit, that is to say, tyme passed. For thing passed must nedes be passed;
and er it were, it might have nat be; wherfore it shulde nat have passed.
Right so, whan love comming is said of love that is to come, nedeful is
to be that is said; for thing comming never is nat comminge. And so, ofte,
the same thing we sayn of the same; as whan we sayn `every man is a man,'
or `every lover is a lover,' so muste it be nedes. In no waye may he be
man and no man togider. And if it be nat by necessitè, that is to
say nedeful, al thing comming to be comming, than somthing comming is nat
comminge, and that is impossible. Right as these termes `nedeful,' `necessitè,'
and `necessary' betoken and signify thing nedes to be, and it may nat otherwyse
be, right [so] *this terme `impossible' signifyeth, that [a] thing is nat
and by no way may it be. Than, thorow pert necessitè, al thing comming
is comming; but that is by necessitè foloweth, with nothing to be
constrayned. Lo! whan that `comming' is said of thinge, nat alway thing
thorow necessitè is, altho[ugh] it be comming. For if I say, `to-morowe
love is comming in this Margarites herte,' nat therfore thorow necessitè
shal the ilke love be; yet it may be that it shal nat be, altho[ugh] it
were comming. Neverthelater, somtyme it is soth that somthing be of necessitè,
that is sayd `to come'; as if I say, to-morowe *be comminge the rysinge
of the sonne. If therfore with necessitè I pronounce comming of
thing to come, in this maner love to-morne comminge in thyne Margarite
to theeward, by necessitè is comminge; or els the rysing of the
sonne to-morne comminge, through necessitè is comminge. Love sothely,
whiche may nat be of necessitè alone folowinge, thorow necessitè
comming it is mad certayn. For `futur' of future is said; that is to sayn,
`comming' of comminge is said; as, if to-morowe comming is thorow necessitè,
comminge it is. Arysing of the sonne, thorow two necessitès in comming,
it is to understande; that oon is tofor[e]going necessitè, whiche
maketh thing to be; therfore it shal be, for nedeful is that it be. Another
is folowing necessitè, whiche nothing constrayneth to be, and so
by necessitè it is to come; why? for it is to come. Now than, whan
we sayn that god beforn wot thing comming, nedeful [it] is to be comming;
yet therfore make we nat in certayn evermore, thing to be thorow necessitè
comminge. Sothly, thing comming may nat be nat comming by no way; for it
is the same sentence of understanding as if we say thus: if god beforn
wot any-thing, nedeful is that to be comming. But yet therfore foloweth
nat the prescience of God, thing thorow necessitè to be comming:
for al-tho[ugh] god toforn wot al thinges comming, yet nat therfore he
beforn wot every thing comming thorow necessitè. Some thinges he
beforn wot comming of free wil out of resonable creature."
"Certes," quod I, "these termes `nede'
and `necessitè' have a queint maner of understanding; they wolden
dullen many mennes wittes."
"Therfore," quod she, "I wol hem openly
declare, and more clerely than I have toforn, er I departe hen[ne]s.
HERE of this mater," quod she, "thou shalt understande that,
right as it is nat nedeful, god to wilne that he wil, no more in many thinges
is nat nedeful, a man to wilne that he wol. And ever, right as nedeful
is to be, what that god wol, right so to be it is nedeful that man wol
in tho thinges, whiche that god hath put in-to mannes subjeccion of willinge;
as, if a man wol love, that he love; and if he ne wol love, that he love
nat; and of suche other thinges in mannes disposicion. For-why, now than
that god wol may nat be, whan he wol the wil of man thorow no necessitè
to be constrayned or els defended for to wilne, and he wol th'effect to
folowe the wil; than is it nedeful, wil of man to be free, and also to
be that he wol. In this maner it is soth, that thorow necessitè
is mannes werke in loving, that he wol do altho[ugh] he wol it nat with
necessitè."
Quod I than, "how stant it in love of thilke wil,
sithen men loven willing of free choice in herte? Wherfore, if it be thorow
necessitè, I praye you, lady, of an answere this question to assoyle."
"I wol," quod she, "answere thee blyvely.
Right as men wil not thorow necessitè; right so is not love of wil
thorow necessitè; ne thorow necessitè wrought thilke same
wil. For if he wolde it not with good wil, it shulde nat have been wrought;
although that he doth, it is nedeful to be doon. But if a man do sinne,
it is nothing els but to *wilne that he shulde nat; right so sinne of wil
is not to be [in] maner necessary don, no more than wil is necessarye.
Never-the-later, this is sothe; if a man wol sinne, it is necessarye him
to sinne, but th[r]ough thilke necessitè nothing is constrayned
ne defended in the wil; right so thilke thing that free-wil wol and may,
and not may not wilne; and nedeful is that to wilne he may not wilne. But
thilke to wilne nedeful is; for impossible to him it is oon thing and the
same to wilne and not to wilne. The werke, forsothe, of wil, to whom it
is yeve that it be that he hath in wil, and that he wol not, voluntarie
*or spontanye it is; for by spontanye wil it is do, that is to saye, with
good wil not constrayned: than by wil not constrayned it is constrayned
to be; and that is it may not *togider be. If this necessitè maketh
libertè of wil, whiche that, aforn they weren, they might have ben
eschewed and shonned: god than, whiche that knoweth al tr[o]uthe, and nothing
but tr[o]uthe, al these thinges, as they arn spontanye or necessarie, *seeth;
and as he seeth, so they ben. And so with these thinges wel considred,
it is open at the ful, that without al maner repugnaunce god beforn wot
al maner thinges [that] ben don by free wil, whiche, aforn they weren,
[it] might have ben [that] never they shulde be. And yet ben they thorow
a maner necessitè from free wil *discended.
Hereby may (quod she) lightly ben knowe that not al thinges
to be, is of necessitè, though god have hem in his prescience. For
som thinges to be, is of libertè of wil. And to make thee to have
ful knowinge of goddes beforn-weting, here me (quod she) what I shal say."
"Blythly, lady," quod I, "me list this
mater entyrely to understande."
"Thou shalt," quod she, "understande that
in heven is goddes beinge; although he be over al by power, yet there is
abydinge of devyne persone; in whiche heven is everlastinge presence, withouten
any movable tyme. There A BREAK HERE IN TH is nothing preterit ne
passed, there is nothing future ne comming; but al thinges togider in that
place ben present everlasting, without any meving. Wherfore, to god, al
thing is as now; and though a thing be nat, in kyndly nature of thinges,
as yet, and if it shulde be herafter, yet evermore we shul saye, god it
maketh be tyme present, and now; for no future ne preterit in him may be
founde. Wherfore his weting and his before-weting is al oon in understanding.
Than, if weting and before-weting of god putteth in necessitè to
al thinges whiche he wot or before-wot; ne thing, after eternitè
or els after any tyme, he wol or doth of libertè, but al of necessitè:
whiche thing if thou wene it be ayenst reson, [than is] nat thorow necessitè
to be or nat to be, al thing that god wot or before-wot to be or nat to
be; and yet nothing defendeth any-thing to be wist or to be before-wist
of him in our willes or our doinges to be don, or els comminge to be for
free arbitrement. Whan thou hast these declaracions wel understande, than
shalt thou fynde it resonable at prove, and that many thinges be nat thorow
necessitè but thorow libertè of wil, save necessitè
of free wil, as I tofore said, and, as me thinketh, al utterly declared."
"Me thinketh, lady," quod I, "so I shulde
you nat displese, and evermore your reverence to kepe, that these thinges
contraryen in any understanding; for ye sayn, somtyme is thorow libertè
of wil, and also thorow necessitè. Of this have I yet no savour,
without better declaracion."
"What wonder," quod she, "is there in
these thinges, sithen al day thou shalt see at thyne eye, in many thinges
receyven in hemselfe revers, thorow dyvers resons, as thus: -- I pray thee
(quod she) which thinges ben more revers than `comen' and `gon'? For if
I bidde thee `come to me,' and thou come, after, whan I bidde thee `go,'
and thou go, thou reversest fro thy first comming."
"That is soth," quod I.
"And yet," quod she, "in thy first alone,
by dyvers reson, was ful reversinge to understande."
"As how?" quod I.
"That shal I shewe thee," quod she, "by
ensample of thinges that have kyndly moving. Is there any-thing that meveth
more kyndly than doth the hevens eye, whiche I clepe the sonne?"
"Sothly," quod I, "me semeth it is most
kyndly to move."
"Thou sayest soth," quod she. "Than, if
thou loke to the sonne, in what parte he be under heven, evermore he *hyeth
him in moving fro thilke place, and *hyeth meving toward the ilke same
place; to thilke place from whiche he goth he *hyeth comminge; and without
any ceesinge to that place he neigheth from whiche he is chaunged and withdrawe.
But now in these thinges, after dyversitè of reson, revers in one
thinge may be seye without repugnaunce. Wherfore in the same wyse, without
any repugnaunce, by my resons tofore maked, al is oon to beleve, somthing
to be thorow necessitè comminge for it is comming, and yet with
no necessitè constrayned to be comming, but with necessitè
that cometh out of free wil, as I have sayd."
Tho liste me a litel to speke, and gan stinte my penne
of my wryting, and sayde in this wyse.
"Trewly, lady, as me thinketh, I can allege authoritees
grete, that contrarien your sayinges. Job saith of mannes person, `thou
hast put his terme, whiche thou might not passe.' Than saye I that no man
may shorte ne lengthe the day ordayned of his *dying, altho[ugh] somtyme
to us it semeth som man to do a thing of free wil, wherthorow his deeth
he henteth."
"Nay, forsothe," quod she, "it is nothing
ayenst my saying; for god is not begyled, ne he seeth nothing wheder it
shal come of libertè or els of necessitè; yet it is said
to be ordayned at god immovable, whiche at man, or it be don, may be chaunged.
Suche thing is also that Poule the apostel saith of hem that tofore wern
purposed to be sayntes, as thus: `whiche that god before wiste and hath
predestined conformes of images of his *sone, that he shulde ben the firste
begeten, that is to saye, here amonges many brethren; and whom he hath
predestined, hem he hath cleped; and whom he hath cleped, hem he hath justifyed;
and whom he hath justifyed, hem he hath magnifyed.' This purpos, after
whiche they ben cleped sayntes or holy in the everlasting present, wher
is neither tyme passed ne tyme comminge, but ever it is only present, and
now as mokel a moment as sevin thousand winter; and so ayenward withouten
any meving is nothing lich temporel presence for thinge that there is ever
present. Yet amonges you men, er it be in your presence, it is movable
thorow libertè of arbitrement. And right as in the everlasting present
no maner thing was ne shal be, but only is; and now here, in your temporel
tyme, somthing was, and is, and shal be, but movinge stoundes; and in this
is no maner repugnaunce: right so, in the everlasting presence, nothing
may be chaunged; and, in your temporel tyme, otherwhyle it is proved movable
by libertè of wil or it be do, withouten any inconvenience therof
to folowe. In your temporel tyme is no suche presence as in the tother;
for your present is don whan passed and to come ginnen entre; whiche tymes
here amonges you everich esily foloweth other. But the presence everlasting
dureth in oonhed, withouten any imaginable chaunging, and ever is present
and now. Trewly, the course of the planettes and overwhelminges of the
sonne in dayes and nightes, with a newe ginning of his circute after it
is ended, that is to sayn, oon yeer to folowe another: these maken your
transitory tymes with chaunginge of lyves and mutacion of people, but right
as your temporel presence coveiteth every place, and al thinges in every
of your tymes be contayned, and as now both seye and wist to goddes very
knowinge."
"Than," quod I, "me wondreth why Poule
spak these wordes by voice of significacion in tyme passed, that god his
sayntes before-wist hath predestined, hath cleped, hath justifyed, and
hath magnifyed. Me thinketh, he shulde have sayd tho wordes in tyme present;
and that had ben more accordaunt to the everlasting present than to have
spoke in preterit voice of passed understanding."
"0," quod Love, "by these wordes I see
wel thou hast litel understanding of the everlasting presence, or els of
my before spoken wordes; for never a thing of tho thou hast nempned was
tofore other or after other; but al at ones evenlich at the god ben, and
al togider in the everlasting present be now to understanding. This eternal
presence, as I sayd, hath inclose togider in one al tymes, in which close
and one al thinges that ben in dyvers tymes and in dyvers places temporel,
[and] without posterioritè or prioritè ben closed ther in
perpetual now, and maked to dwelle in present sight. But there thou sayest
that Poule shulde have spoke thilke forsaid sentence *by tyme present,
and that most shulde have ben acordaunt to the everlasting presence, why
gabbest thou *in thy wordes? Sothly, I say, Poule moved the wordes by significacion
of tyme passed, to shewe fully that thilk wordes were nat put for temporel
significacion; for al [at] thilk tyme [of] thilke sentence were nat temporallich
born, whiche that Poule pronounced god have tofore knowe, and have cleped,
than magnifyed. Wherthorow it may wel be knowe that Poule used tho wordes
of passed significacion, for nede and lacke of a worde in mannes bodily
speche betokeninge the everlasting presence. And therfore, [in] worde moste
semeliche in lykenesse to everlasting presence, he took his sentence; for
thinges that here-beforn ben passed utterly be immovable, y-lyke to the
everlasting presence. As thilke that ben there never mowe not ben present,
so thinges of tyme passed ne mowe in no wyse not ben passed; but al thinges
in your temporal presence, that passen in a litel while, shullen ben not
present. So than in that, it is more similitude to the everlasting presence,
significacion of tyme passed than of tyme temporal present, and so more
in accordaunce. In this maner what thing, of these that ben don thorow
free arbitrement, or els as necessary, holy writ pronounceth, after eternitè
he speketh; in whiche presence is everlasting sothe and nothing but sothe
immovable; nat after tyme, in whiche naught alway ben your willes and your
actes. And right as, while they be nat, it is nat nedeful hem to be, so
ofte it is nat nedeful that somtyme they shulde be."
"As how?" quod I; "for yet I must be lerned
by some ensample."
"Of love," quod she, "wol I now ensample
make, sithen I knowe the heed-knotte in that yelke. Lo! somtyme thou wrytest
no art, ne art than in no wil to wryte. And right as while thou wrytest
nat or els wolt nat wryte, it is nat nedeful thee to wryte or els wilne
to wryte. And for to make thee knowe utterly that thinges ben otherwise
in the everlastinge presence than in temporal tyme, see now, my good child:
for somthing is in the everlastinge presence, than in temporal tyme it
was nat; in *eterne tyme, in eterne presence shal it nat be. Than no reson
defendeth, that somthing ne may be in tyme temporal moving, that in eterne
is immovable. Forsothe, it is no more contrary ne revers for to be movable
in tyme temporel, and [im]movable in eternitè, than nat to be in
any tyme and to be alway in eternitè; and to have be or els to come
in tyme temporel, and nat have be ne nought comming to be in eternitè.
Yet never-the-later, I say nat somthing to be never in tyme temporel, that
ever is [in] eternitè; but al-only in som tyme nat to be. For I
saye nat thy love to-morne in no tyme to be, but to-day alone I deny it
to be; and yet, never-the-later, it is alway in eternitè."
"A! so," quod I, "it semeth to me, that
comming thing or els passed here in your temporal tyme to be, in eternitè
ever now and present oweth nat to be demed; and yet foloweth nat thilke
thing, that was or els shal be, in no maner ther to ben passed or els comming;
than utterly shul we deny for there without ceesing it is, in his present
maner."
"0," quod she, "myne owne disciple, now
ginnest thou [be] able to have the name of my servaunt! Thy wit is clered;
away is now errour of cloude in unconning; away is blyndnesse of love;
away is thoughtful study of medling maners. Hastely shalt thou entre in-to
the joye of me, that am thyn owne maistres! Thou hast (quod she), in a
fewe wordes, wel and clerely concluded mokel of my mater. And right as
there is no revers ne contrarioustee in tho thinges, right so, withouten
any repugnaunce, it is sayd somthing to be movable in tyme temporel, *afore
it be, that in eternitè dwelleth immovable, nat afore it be or after
that it is, but without cessing; for right naught is there after tyme;
that same is there everlastinge that temporalliche somtyme nis; and toforn
it be, it may not be, as I have sayd."
"Now sothly," quod I, "this have I wel
understande; so that now me thinketh, that prescience of god and free arbitrement
withouten any repugnaunce acorden; and that maketh the strength of eternitè,
whiche encloseth by presence during al tymes, and al thinges that ben,
han ben, and shul ben in any tyme. I wolde now (quod I) a litel understande,
sithen that [god] al thing thus beforn wot, whether thilke wetinge be of
tho thinges, or els thilke thinges ben to ben of goddes weting, and so
of god nothing is; and if every thing be thorow goddes weting, and therof
take his being, than shulde god be maker and auctour of badde werkes, and
so he shulde not rightfully punisshe yvel doinges of mankynde."
Quod Love, "I shal telle thee, this lesson to lerne.
Myne owne trewe servaunt, the noble philosophical poete in Englissh whiche
evermore him besieth and travayleth right sore my name to encrese (wherfore
al that willen me good owe to do him worship and reverence bothe; trewly,
his better ne his pere in scole of my rules coude I never fynde)-- he (quod
she), in a tretis that he made of my servant Troilus, hath this mater touched,
and at the ful this question assoyled. Certaynly, his noble sayinges can
I not amende; in goodnes of gentil manliche speche, without any maner of
nycetè of *storiers imaginacion, in witte and in good reson of sentence
he passeth al other makers. In the boke of Troilus, the answere to thy
question mayst thou lerne. Never-the-later, yet may lightly thyne understandinge
somdel ben lerned, if thou have knowing of these to-fornsaid thinges; with
that thou have understanding of two the laste chapiters of this seconde
boke, that is to say, good to be somthing, and bad to wante al maner being.
For badde is nothing els but absence of good, and [as] that god in good
maketh that good dedes ben good in yvel he maketh that they ben but naught,
that they ben bad; for to nothing is badnesse to be [lykned]."
"I have," quod I tho, "ynough knowing
therin; me nedeth of other thinges to here, that is to saye, how I shal
come to my blisse so long desyred."
"IN this mater toforn declared," quod Love, "I have wel
shewed, that every man hath free arbitrement of thinges in his power, to
do or undo what him lyketh. Out of this grounde muste come the spire, that
by processe of tyme shal in greetnesse sprede, to have braunches and blosmes
of waxing frute in grace, of whiche the taste and the savour is endelesse
blisse, in joye ever to onbyde." A BREAK HERE IN TH.
"Now, trewly, lady, I have my grounde wel understonde;
but what thing is thilke spire that in-to a tree shulde wexe? Expowne me
that thing, what ye therof mene."
"That shal I," quod she, "blithly, and
take good hede to the wordes, I thee rede. Continuaunce in thy good service,
by longe processe of tyme in ful hope abyding, without any chaunge to wilne
in thyne herte, this is the spire. Whiche, if it be wel kept and governed,
shal so hugely springe, til the fruit of grace is plentuously out-sprongen.
For although thy wil be good, yet may not therfore thilk blisse desyred
hastely on thee discenden; it must abyde his sesonable tyme. And so, by
processe of growing, with thy good traveyle, it shal in-to more and more
wexe, til it be found so mighty, that windes of yvel speche, ne scornes
of envy make nat the traveyle overthrowe; ne frostes of mistrust, ne hayles
of jelousy right litel might have, in harming of suche springes. Every
yonge setling lightly with smale stormes is apeyred; but whan it is woxen
somdel in gretnesse, than han grete blastes and *weders but litel might,
any disadvantage to them for to werche."
"Myne owne soverayne lady," quod I, "and
welth of myne herte, and it were lyking un-to your noble grace therthrough
nat to be displesed, I suppose ye erren, now ye maken jelousy, envy, and
distourbour to hem that ben your servauntes. I have lerned ofte, to-forn
this tyme, that in every lovers herte greet plentee of jelousyes greves
ben sowe, wherfore (me thinketh) ye ne ought in no maner accompte thilke
thing among these other welked wivers and venomous serpentes, as envy,
mistrust, and yvel speche."
"O fole," quod she, "mistrust with foly,
with yvel wil medled, engendreth that welked padde! Truely, if they were
distroyed, jelousy undon were for ever; and yet some maner of jelousy,
I wot wel, is ever redy in al the hertes of my trewe servauntes, as thus:
to be jelous over him-selfe, lest he be cause of his own disese. This jelousy
in ful thought ever shulde be kept, for ferdnesse to lese his love by miskeping,
thorow his owne doing in leudnesse, or els thus: lest she, that thou servest
so fervently, is beset there her better lyketh, that of al thy good service
she compteth nat a cresse. These jelousies in herte for acceptable qualitees
ben demed; these oughten every trewe lover, by kyndly [maner], evermore
haven in his mynde, til fully the grace and blisse of my service be on
him discended at wil. And he that than jelousy caccheth, or els by wening
of his owne folisshe wilfulnesse mistrusteth, truely with fantasy of venim
he is foule begyled. Yvel wil hath grounded thilke mater of sorowe in his
leude soule, and yet nat-for-than to every wight shulde me nat truste,
ne every wight fully misbeleve; the mene of these thinges *oweth to be
used. Sothly, withouten causeful evidence mistrust in jelousy shulde nat
be wened in no wyse person commenly; suche leude wickednesse shulde me
nat fynde. He that is wyse and with yvel wil nat be acomered, can abyde
wel his tyme, til grace and blisse of his service folowing have him so
mokel esed as his abydinge toforehande hath him disesed."
"Certes, lady," quod I tho, "of nothing
me wondreth, sithen thilke blisse so precious is and kyndly good, and wel
is and worthy in kynde whan it is medled with love and reson, as ye toforn
have declared. Why, anon as hye oon is spronge, why springeth nat the tother?
And anon as the oon cometh, why receyveth nat the other? For every thing
that is out of his kyndly place, by ful appetyt ever cometh thiderward
kyndely to drawe; and his kyndly being ther-to him constrayneth. And the
kyndly stede of this blisse is in suche wil medled to *onbyde, and nedes
in that it shulde have his kyndly being. Wherfore me thinketh, anon as
that wil to be shewed and kid him profreth, thilke blisse shulde him hye,
thilk wil to receyve; or els kynde[s] of goodnesse worchen nat in hem as
they shulde. Lo, be the sonne never so fer, ever it hath his kynde werching
in erthe. Greet weight on hye onlofte caried stinteth never til it come
to *his resting-place. Waters to the see-ward ever ben they drawing. Thing
that is light blythly wil nat sinke, but ever ascendeth and upward draweth.
Thus kynde in every thing his kyndly cours and his beinge-place sheweth.
Wherfore *by kynde, on this good wil, anon as it were spronge, this blisse
shulde thereon discende; her kynde[s] wolde, they dwelleden togider; and
so have ye sayd your-selfe."
"Certes," quod she, "thyne herte sitteth
wonder sore, this blisse for to have; thyne herte is sore agreved that
it tarieth so longe; and if thou durstest, as me thinketh by thyne wordes,
this blisse woldest thou blame. But yet I saye, thilke blisse is kyndly
good, and his kyndely place [is] in that wil to *onbyde. Never-the-later,
their comming togider, after kyndes ordinaunce, nat sodaynly may betyde;
it muste abyde tyme, as kynde yeveth him leve. For if a man, as this wil
medled gonne him shewe, and thilke blisse in haste folowed, so lightly
comminge shulde lightly cause going. Longe tyme of thursting causeth drink
to be the more delicious whan it is atasted."
"How is it," quod I than, "that so many
blisses see I al day at myne eye, in the firste moment of a sight, with
suche wil accorde? Ye, and yet other-whyle with wil assenteth, singulerly
by him-selfe; there reson fayleth, traveyle was non; service had no tyme.
This is a queynt maner thing, how suche doing cometh aboute."
"0," quod she, "that is thus. The erthe
kyndely, after sesons and tymes of the yere, bringeth forth innumerable
herbes and trees, bothe profitable and other; but suche as men might leve
(though they nought in norisshinge to mannes kynde senen, or els suche
as tournen sone unto mennes confusion, in case that therof they ataste),
comen forth out of the erthe by their owne kynde, withouten any mannes
cure or any businesse in traveyle. And the ilke herbes that to mennes lyvelode
necessarily serven, without whiche goodly in this lyfe creatures mowen
nat enduren, and most ben *norisshinge to mankynde, without greet traveyle,
greet tilthe, and longe abydinge-tyme, comen nat out of the erthe, and
[y]it with sede toforn ordayned, suche herbes to make springe and forth
growe. Right so the parfit blisse, that we have in meninge of during-tyme
to abyde, may nat come so lightly, but with greet traveyle and right besy
tilth; and yet good seed to be sowe; for ofte the croppe fayleth of badde
seede, be it never so wel traveyled. And thilke blisse thou spoke of so
lightly in comming, trewly, is nat necessary ne abydinge; and but it the
better be stamped, and the venomous jeuse out-wrongen, it is lykely to
enpoysonen al tho that therof tasten. Certes, right bitter ben the herbes
that shewen first [in] the yere of her own kynde. Wel the more is the harvest
that yeldeth many graynes, tho longe and sore it hath ben traveyled. What
woldest thou demen if a man wold yeve three quarters of nobles of golde?
That were a precious gift?"
"Ye, certes," quod 1.
"And what,"quod she, "three quarters ful
of perles?"
"Certes," quod I, "that were a riche gift."
"And what," quod she, "of as mokel azure?"
Quod I, "a precious gift at ful."
"Were not," quod she, "a noble gift of
al these atones?"
"In good faith," quod I, "for wanting
of Englissh naming of so noble a worde, I can not, for preciousnesse, yeve
it a name."
"Rightfully," quod she, "hast thou demed;
and yet love, knit in vertue, passeth al the gold in this erthe. Good wil,
accordant to reson, with no maner propertè may be countrevayled.
Al the azure in the worlde is nat to accompte in respect of reson. Love
that with good wil and reson accordeth, with non erthly riches may nat
ben amended. This yeft hast thou yeven, I know it my-selfe, and thy Margarite
thilke gift hath receyved; in whiche thinge to rewarde she hath her-selfe
bounde. But thy gift, as I said, by no maner riches may be amended; wherfore,
with thinge that may nat be amended, thou shalt of thy Margarites rightwisenesse
be rewarded. Right suffred yet never but every good dede somtyme to be
yolde. Al wolde thy Margarite with no rewarde thee quyte, right, that never-more
dyeth, thy mede in merit wol purvey. Certes, such sodayn blisse as thou
first nempnest, right wil hem rewarde as thee wel is worthy; and though
at thyn eye it semeth, the reward the desert to passe, right can after
sende suche bitternesse, evenly it to rewarde. So that sodayn blisse, by
al wayes of reson, in gret goodnesse may not ben acompted; but blisse long,
both long it abydeth, and endlesse it wol laste. See why thy wil is endelesse.
For if thou lovedest ever, thy wil is ever ther t'abyde and neveremore
to chaunge, evenhed of rewarde must ben don by right; than muste nedes
thy grace and this blisse [ben] endelesse in joye to *onbyde. Evenliche
disese asketh evenliche joye, whiche hastely thou shalt have."
"A!" quod I, "it suffyseth not than alone
good wil, be it never so wel with reson medled, but-if it be in good service
longe travayled. And so through service shul men come to the joye; and
this, me thinketh, shulde be the wexing tree, of which ye first meved.
A BREAK HERE IN TH.
NOW, lady," quod I, "that tree to sette, fayn wolde I lerne."
"So thou shalt," quod she, "er thou depart
hence. The first thing, thou muste sette thy werke on grounde siker and
good, accordaunt to thy springes. For if thou desyre grapes, thou goest
not to the hasel; ne, for to fecchen roses, thou sekest not on okes; and
if thou shalt have hony-soukels, thou levest the frute of the soure docke.
Wherfore, if thou desyre this blisse in parfit joye, thou must sette thy
purpos there vertue foloweth, and not to loke after the bodily goodes;
as I sayd whan thou were wryting in thy seconde boke. And for thou hast
set thy-selfe in so noble a place, and utterly lowed in thyn herte the
misgoing of thy first purpos, this *setling is the esier to springe, and
the more lighter thy soule in grace to be lissed. And trewly thy desyr,
that is to say, thy wil algates mot ben stedfast in this mater without
any chaunginge; for if it be stedfast, no man may it voyde."
"Yes, pardè," quod I, "my wil may
ben turned by frendes, and disese of manace and thretning in lesinge of
my lyfe and of my limmes, and in many other wyse that now cometh not to
mynde. And also it mot ofte ben out of thought; for no remembraunce may
holde oon thing continuelly in herte, be it never so lusty desyred."
"Now see," quod she, "thou thy wil shal
folowe, thy free wil to be grounded continuelly to abyde. It is thy free
wil, that thou lovest and hast loved, and yet shal loven this Margaryte-perle;
and in thy wil thou thinkest to holde it. Than is thy wil knit in love,
not to chaunge for no newe lust besyde; this wil techeth thyn herte from
al maner varying. But than, although thou be thretened in dethe or els
in otherwyse, yet is it in thyn arbitrement to chose, thy love to voyde
or els to holde; and thilke arbitrement is in a maner a jugement bytwene
desyr and thy herte. And if thou deme to love thy good wil fayleth, than
art thou worthy no blisse that good wil shulde deserve; and if thou chose
continuaunce in thy good service, than thy good wil abydeth; nedes, blisse
folowing of thy good wil must come by strength of thilke jugement; for
thy first wil, that taught thyn herte to abyde, and halt it from th'eschaunge,
with thy reson is accorded. Trewly, this maner of wil thus shal abyde;
impossible it were to turne, if thy herte be trewe; and if every man diligently
the meninges of his wil consider, he shal wel understande that good wil,
knit with reson, but in a false herte never is voyded; for power and might
of keping this good wil is thorow libertè of arbitrement in herte,
but good wil to kepe may not fayle. Eke than if it fayle, it sheweth it-selfe
that good wil in keping is not there. And thus false wil, that putteth
out the good, anon constrayneth the herte to accorde in lovinge of thy
good wil; and this accordaunce bitwene false wil and thyn herte, in falsitè
ben lykened *togider. Yet a litel wol I say thee in good wil, thy good
willes to rayse and strengthe. Tak hede to me (quod she) how thy willes
thou shalt understande. Right as ye han in your body dyvers membres, and
fyve sondrye wittes, everiche apart to his owne doing, whiche thinges as
instrumentes ye usen; as, your handes apart to handle; feet, to go; tonge,
to speke; eye, to see: right so the soule hath in him certayne steringes
and strengthes, whiche he useth as instrumentes to his certayne doinges.
Reson is in the soule, which he useth, thinges to knowe and to prove; and
wil, whiche he useth to wilne; and yet is neyther wil ne reson al the soule
but everich of hem is a thing by him-selfe in the soule. And they han right
as everich hath thus singuler instrumentes by hemselfe, they han as wel
dyvers aptes and dyvers maner usinges; and thilke aptes mowen in wil ben
cleped affeccions. Affeccion is an instrument of willinge in his apetytes.
Wherfore mokel folk sayn, if a resonable creatures soule any thing fervently
wilneth, affectuously he wilneth; and thus may wil, by terme of equivocas,
in three wayes ben understande. Oon is instrument of willing; another is
affection of this instrument; and the third is use, that setteth it a-werke.
Instrument of willing is thilke strength of the soule, which that constrayneth
to wilne, right as reson is instrument of resons, which ye usen whan ye
loken. Affeccion of this instrument is a thing, by whiche ye be drawe desyrously
anything to wilne in coveitous maner, al be it for the tyme out of your
mynde; as, if it come in your thought thilke thing to remembre, anon ye
ben willing thilke to done or els to have. And thus is instrument wil;
and affeccion is wil also, to wilne thing as I said; as, for to wilne helth,
whan wil nothing theron thinketh; for anon as it cometh to memorie, it
is in wil. And so is affeccion to wilne slepe, whan it is out of mynde;
but anon as it is remembred, wil wilneth slepe, whan his tyme cometh of
the doinge. For affeccion of wil never accordeth to sicknesse, ne alway
to wake. Right so in a true lovers affeccion of willing, instrument is
to wilne tr[o]uthe in his service; and this affeccion alway abydeth, although
he be sleping or thretned, or els not theron thinking; but anon as it cometh
to mynde, anon he is stedfast in that wil to abyde. Use of this instrument
forsothe is another thing by himselfe; and that have ye not but whan ye
be doing in willed thing, by affect or instrument of wil purposed or desyred;
and this maner of usage in my service wysely nedeth to be ruled from wayters
with envy closed, from spekers ful of jangeling wordes, from proude folk
and hautayn, that lambes and innocentes bothe scornen and dispysen. Thus
in doing varieth the actes of willinge everich from other, and yet ben
they cleped `wil,' and the name of wil utterly owen they to have; as instrument
of wil is wil, whan ye turne in-to purpos of any thing to don, be it to
sitte or to stande, or any such thing els. This instrument may ben had,
although affect and usage be left out of doing; right as ye have sight
and reson, and yet alway use ye A BREAK HERE IN TH *nat to loke,
[ne] thinges with resonning to prove; and so is instrument of wil, wil;
and yet varyeth he from effect and using bothe. Affeccion of wil also for
wil is cleped, but it varyeth from instrument in this maner wyse, by that
nameliche, whan it cometh in-to mynde, anon-right it is in willinge desyred,
and the negatif therof with willing nil not acorde; this is closed in herte,
though usage and instrument slepe. This slepeth whan instrument and us[e]
waken; and of suche maner affeccion, trewly some man hath more and some
man lesse. Certes, trewe lovers wenen ever therof to litel to have. False
lovers in litel wenen have right mokel. Lo, instrument of wil in false
and trewe bothe, evenliche is proporcioned; but affeccion is more in some
places than in some, bycause of the goodnesse that foloweth, and that I
thinke hereafter to declare. Use of this instrument is wil, but it taketh
his name whan wilned thing is in doing; but utterly grace to cacche in
thy blisse *desyreth to ben rewarded. Thou most have than affeccion of
wil at the ful, and use whan his tyme asketh wysely to ben governed. Sothly,
my disciple, without fervent affeccion of wil may no man ben saved. This
affeccion of good service in good love may not ben grounded, without fervent
desyr to the thing in wil coveited. But he that never reccheth to have
or not to have, affeccion of wil in that hath no resting-place. Why? For
whan thing cometh to mynde, and it be not taken in hede to comin or not
come, therfore in that place affeccion fayleth; and, for thilke affeccion
is so litel, thorow whiche in goodnesse he shulde come to his grace, the
litelnesse wil it not suffre to avayle by no way in-to his helpes. Certes,
grace and reson thilke affeccion foloweth. This affeccion, with reson knit,
dureth in everiche trewe herte, and evermore is encresing; no ferdnesse,
no strength may it remove, whyle tr[o]uthe in herte abydeth. Sothly, whan
falsheed ginneth entre, tr[o]uthe draweth away grace and joye bothe; but
than thilke falsheed, that trouth[e] hath thus voyded, hath unknit the
bond of understanding reson bytwene wil and the herte. And who-so that
bond undoth, and unknitteth wil to be in other purpose than to the first
accorde, knitteth him with contrarye of reson; and that is unreson. Lo,
than, wil and unreson bringeth a man from the blisse of grace; whiche thing,
of pure kynde, every man ought to shonne and to eschewe, and to the knot
of wil and reson confirme.
Me thinketh," quod she, "by thy studient lokes,
thou wenest in these wordes me to contrarien from other sayinges here-toforn
in other place, as whan thou were somtyme in affeccion of wil to thinges
that now han brought thee in disese, which I have thee consayled to voyde,
and thyn herte discover; and there I made thy wil to ben chaunged, whiche
now thou wenest I argue to with[h]olde and to kepe! Shortly I say, the
revers in these wordes may not ben founde; for though dronkennesse be forboden,
men shul not alway ben drinklesse. I trowe right, for thou thy wil out
of reson shulde not tourne, thy wil in one reson shulde not *onbyde. I
say, thy wil in thy first purpos with unreson was closed; constrewe forth
of the remenant what thee good lyketh. Trewly, that wil and reson shulde
be knit togider, was free wil of reson; after tyme thyne herte is assentaunt
to them bothe, thou might not chaunge. But if thou from rule of reson varye,
in whiche variaunce to come to thilke blisse desyred, contrariously thou
werchest; and nothing may knowe wil and reson but love alone. Than if thou
voide love, than *weyvest [thou] the bond that knitteth; and so nedes,
or els right lightly, that other gon a-sondre; wherfore thou seest apertly
that love holdeth this knot, and amaystreth hem to be bounde. These thinges,
as a ring in circuit of wrethe, ben knit in thy soule without departing."
"A! let be! let be!" quod I; "it nedeth
not of this no rehersayle to make; my soule is yet in parfit blisse, in
thinking of that knotte!" A BREAK HERE IN TH
"VERY trouth," quod she, "hast thou now conceyved of
these thinges in thyne herte; hastely shalt thou be able very joye and
parfit blisse to receyve; and now, I wot wel, thou desyrest to knowe the
maner of braunches that out of the tree shulde springe."
"Therof, lady," quod I, "hertely I you
pray; for than leve I *wel, that right sone after I shal ataste of the
frute that I so long have desyred."
"Thou hast herd," quod she, "in what wyse
this tree toforn this have I declared, as in grounde and in stocke of wexing.
First, the ground shulde be thy free wil, ful in thyne herte; and the stocke
(as I sayde) shulde be continuaunce in good service by long tyme in traveyle,
til it were in greetnesse right wel woxen. And whan this tree suche greetnesse
hath caught as I have rehersed, the braunches than, that the frute shulde
forth-bringe, speche must they be nedes, in voice of prayer in complayning
wyse used."
"Out! alas!" quod I tho, "he is soroufully
wounded that hydeth his speche, and spareth his complayntes to make! What
shal I speke the care? But payne, even lyk to helle, sore hath me assayled,
and so ferforth in payne me thronge, that I leve my tree is seer, and never
shal it frute forth bringe! Certes, he is greetly esed, that dare his prevy
mone discover to a true felowe, that conning hath and might, wherthrough
his pleint in any thinge may ben amended. And mokel more is he joyed, that
with herte of hardinesse dare complayne to his lady what cares that he
suffreth, by hope of mercy with grace to be avaunced. Truely I saye for
me, sithe I cam this Margarit to serve, durst I never me discover of no
maner disese; and wel the later hath myn herte hardyed suche thinges to
done, for the grete bountees and worthy refresshmentes that she of her
grace goodly, without any desert on my halve, ofte hath me rekened. And
nere her goodnesse the more with grace and with mercy medled, which passen
al desertes, traveyls, and servinges that I in any degre might endite,
I wolde wene I shulde be without recover, in getting of this blisse for
ever! Thus have I stilled my disese; thus have I covered my care; that
I brenne in sorouful anoy, as gledes and coles wasten a fyr under deed
asshen. Wel the hoter is the fyr that with asshen it is overleyn. Right
longe this wo have I suffred."
"Lo," quod Love, "how thou farest! Me
thinketh, the palasy-yvel hath acomered thy wittes; as faste as thou hyest
forward, anon sodaynly backward thou movest! Shal nat yet al thy leudnesse
out of thy braynes? Dul ben thy skilful understandinges; thy wil hath thy
wit so amaistred. Wost thou nat wel (quod she) but every tree, in his sesonable
tyme of burjoninge, shewe his blomes fro within, in signe of what frute
shulde out of him springe, els the frute for that yere men halt delivered,
be the ground never so good? And though the stocke be mighty at the ful,
and the braunches seer, and no burjons shewe, farwel the gardiner! He may
pype with an yvè-lefe; his frute is fayled. Wherfore thy braunches
must burjonen in presence of thy lady, if thou desyre any frute of thy
ladies grace. But beware of thy lyfe, that thou no wode lay use, as in
asking of thinges that strecchen in-to shame! For than might thou nat spede,
by no maner way that I can espy. Vertue wol nat suffre villany out of him-selfe
to springe. Thy wordes may nat be queynt, ne of subtel maner understandinge.
Freel-witted people supposen in suche poesies to be begyled; in open understandinge
must every word be used. `Voice without clere understanding of sentence,'
saith Aristotel, `right nought printeth in herte.' Thy wordes than to abyde
in herte, and clene in ful sentence of trewe mening, platly must thou shewe;
and ever be obedient, her hestes and her wils to performe; and be thou
set in suche a wit, to wete by a loke ever-more what she meneth. And he
that list nat to speke, but stilly his disese suffer, what wonder is it,
tho[ugh] he come never to his blisse? Who that traveyleth unwist, and coveyteth
thing unknowe, unweting he shal be quyted, and with unknowe thing rewarded."
"Good lady," quod I than, "it hath ofte
be sene, that *weders and stormes so hugely have falle in burjoning-tyme,
and by perte duresse han beten of the springes so clene, wherthrough the
frute of thilke yere hath fayled. It is a greet grace, whan burjons han
good *weders, their frutes forth to bringe. Alas! than, after suche stormes,
how hard is it to avoyde, til efte wedring and yeres han maked her circute
cours al about, er any frute be able to be tasted! He is shent for shame,
that foule is rebuked of his speche. He that is in fyre brenning sore smarteth
for disese; him thinketh ful long er the water come, that shulde the fyr
quenche. While men gon after a leche, the body is buryed. Lo! how semely
this frute wexeth! Me thinketh, that of tho frutes may no man ataste, for
pure bitternesse in savour. In this wyse bothe frute and the tree wasten
away togider, though mokel besy occupacion have be spent, to bringe it
so ferforth that it was able to springe. A lyte speche hath maked that
al this labour is in ydel."
"I not," quod she, "wherof it serveth,
thy question to assoyle. Me thinketh thee now duller in wittes than whan
I with thee first mette. Although a man be leude, commenly for a fole he
is nat demed but-if he no good wol lerne. Sottes and foles lete lightly
out of mynde the good that men techeth hem. I sayd therfore, thy stocke
must be stronge, and in greetnesse wel herted: the tree is ful feble that
at the firste dent falleth. And although frute fayleth oon yere or two,
yet shal suche a seson come oon tyme or other, that shal bringe out frute
that [is parfit]. A BREAK HERE IN THY. Fole, have I not seyd toforn
this, as tyme hurteth, right so ayenward tyme heleth and rewardeth; and
a tree oft fayled is holde more in deyntee whan it frute forth bringeth.
A marchaunt that for ones lesinge in the see no more to aventure thinketh,
he shal never with aventure come to richesse. So ofte must men on the oke
smyte, til the happy dent have entred, whiche with the okes owne swaye
maketh it to come al at ones. So ofte falleth the lethy water on the harde
rocke, til it have thorow persed it. The even draught of the wyr-drawer
maketh the wyr to ben even and supple- werchinge; and if he stinted in
his draught, the wyr breketh a-sonder. Every tree wel springeth, whan it
is wel grounded and not often removed."
"What shal this frute be," quod I, "now
it ginneth rype?"
"Grace," quod she, "in parfit joy to endure;
and therwith thou begon[ne]."
"Grace?" quod I; "me thinketh, I shulde
have a reward for my longe travayle?"
"I shal telle thee," quod she; "retribucion
of thy good willes to have of thy Margarite-perle, it bereth not the name
of mede, but only of good grace; and that cometh not of thy desert, but
of thy Margarytes goodnesse and vertue alone."
Quod I, "shulde al my longe travayle have no reward
but thorow grace? And som-tyme your-selven sayd, rightwisnesse evenliche
rewardeth, to quyte oon benefit for another."
"That is sothe," quod Love, "ever as I
sayde, as to him that doth good, which to done he were neyther holden ne
yet constrayned."
"That is sothe," quod I.
"Trewly," quod she, "al that ever thou
doest to thyne Margaryte-perle, of wil, of love, and of reson thou owest
to done it; it is nothing els but yelding of thy dette in quytinge of thy
grace, which she thee lente whan ye first mette."
"I wene," quod I, "right litel grace to
me she delivered. Certes, it was harde grace; it hath nyghe me astrangled."
"That it was good grace, I wot wel thou wilt it
graunte, er thou departe hence. If any man yeve to another wight, to whom
that he ought not, and whiche that of him-selfe nothing may have, a garnement
or a cote, though he were the cote or els thilke clothing, it is not to
putte to him that was naked the cause of his clothinge, but only to him
that was yever of the garnement. Wherfore I saye, thou that were naked
of love, and of thy-selfe non have mightest, it is not to putte to thyne
owne persone, sithen thy love cam thorow thy Margaryte-perle. Ergo, she
was yever of the love, although thou it use; and there lente she thee grace,
thy service to beginne. She is worthy the thank of this grace, for she
was the yever. Al the thoughtes, besy doinges, and plesaunce in thy might
and in thy wordes that thou canst devyse, ben but right litel in quytinge
of thy dette; had she not ben, suche thing hadde not ben studyed. So al
these maters kyndly drawen hom-ward to this Margaryte-perle, for from thence
were they borowed; al is hoolly her to wyte, the love that thou havest;
and thus quytest thou thy dette, in that thou stedfastly servest. And kepe
wel that love, I thee rede, that of her thou hast borowed, and use it in
her service thy dette to quyte; and than art thou able right sone to have
grace; wherfore after mede in none halve mayst thou loke. Thus thy ginning
and ending is but grace aloon; and in thy good deserving thy dette thou
aquytest; without grace is nothing worth, what-so-ever thou werche. Thanke
thy Margaryte of her grete grace that *hiderto thee hath gyded, and praye
her of continuaunce forth in thy werkes herafter; and that, for no mishappe,
thy grace overthwartly tourne. Grace, glorie, and joye is coming thorow
good folkes desertes; and by getting of grace, therin shullen ende. And
what is more glorie or more joye than wysdom and love in parfit charitè,
whiche god hath graunted to al tho that wel *conne deserve?"
And with that this lady al at ones sterte in-to my herte:
"here wol I onbyde," quod she, "for ever, and never wol
I gon hence; and I wol kepe thee from medlinge while me liste here onbyde;
thyne entermeting maners in-to stedfastnesse shullen be chaunged."
SOBERLICHE tho threw I up myn eyen, and hugely tho was I astonyed of this sodayne adventure; and fayn wolde I have lerned, how vertues shulden ben knowen; in whiche thinges, I hope to god, here-after she shal me enfourmen; and namely, sithen her restinge-place is now so nygh at my wil; and anon al these thinges that this lady said, I remembred me by my-selfe, and revolved the *lynes of myne understondinge wittes. Tho found I fully al these maters parfitly there written, how mis-rule by fayned love bothe realmes and citees hath governed a greet throwe; how lightly me might the fautes espye; how rules in love shulde ben used; how somtyme with fayned love foule I was begyled; how I shulde love have knowe; and how I shal in love with my service procede. Also furthermore I found, of perdurable letters wonderly there graven, these maters whiche I shal nempne. Certes, non age ne other thing in erthe may the leest sillable of this in no poynte deface, but clerely as the sonne in myne understandinge soule they shynen. This may never out of my mynde, how I may not my love kepe, but thorow willinge in herte; wilne to love may I not, but I lovinge have. Love have I non, but thorow grace of this Margarite-perle. It is no maner doute, that wil wol not love but for it is lovinge, as wil wol not rightfully but for it is rightful it-selve. Also wil is not lovinge for he wol love; but he wol love for he is lovinge; it is al oon to *wilne to be lovinge, and lovinges in possession to have. Right so wil wol not love, for of love hath he no partie. And yet I denye not lovinge wil [may] wilne more love to have, whiche that he hath not whan he wolde more than he hath; but I saye, he may no love wilne if he no love have, through which thilke love he shuld wilne. But to have this loving wil may no man of him-selfe, but only through grace toforn-going; right so may no man it kepe, but by grace folowinge. Consider now every man aright, and let seen if that any wight of him-selfe mowe this loving wel gete, and he therof first nothing have; for if it shulde of him-selfe springe, either it muste be willing or not willing. Willing by him-selfe may he it not have, sithen him fayleth the mater that shulde it forth bringe. The mater him fayleth; why? He may therof have no knowing til whan grace put it in his herte. Thus willing by him-selfe may he it not have; and not willing, may he it not have. Pardè, every conseyt of every resonable creature otherwyse wil [wol] not graunte; wil in affirmatif with not willing by no way mowe acorde. And although this loving wol come in myn herte by freenesse of arbitrement, as in this booke fully is shewed, yet owe I not therfore as moche alowe my free wil as grace of that Margaryte to me lened. For neyther might I, without grace to-forn going and afterward folowing, thilke grace gete ne kepe; and lese shal I it never but-if free wil it make, as in willinge otherwyse than grace hath me graunted. For right as whan any person taketh willing to be sobre, and throweth that away, willing to be dronke; or els taketh wil of drinking out of mesure; whiche thing, anon as it is don, maketh (thorow his owne gilte by free wil) that [he] leseth his grace. In whiche thing therfore upon the nobley of grace I mote trusten, and my besy cure sette thilke grace to kepe, that my free wil, otherwyse than by reson it shulde werche, cause not my grace to voyde: for thus must I bothe loke to free wil and to grace. For right as naturel usage in engendring of children may not ben without *fader, ne also but with the *moder, for neyther *fader ne *moder in begetting may it lacke; right so grace and free wil accorden, and withoute hem bothe may not lovinge wil in no partie ben getten. But yet is not free wil in gettinge of that thing so mokel thank-worthy as is grace, ne in the kepinge therof so moche thank deserveth; and yet in gettinge and keping bothe don they accorde. Trewly, often-tyme grace free wil helpeth, in fordoinge of contrarye thinges, that to willinge love not accorden, and *strengtheth wil adversitees to withsitte; wherfore *al-togider to grace oweth to ben accepted, that my willing deserveth. Free wil to lovinge in this wyse is accorded. I remembre me wel how al this book (who-so hede taketh) considereth [how] al thinges to werchinges of mankynde evenly accordeth, as in turning of this worde "love" in-to trouthe or els rightwisnesse, whether that it lyke. For what thing that falleth to man in helping of free arbitrement, thilke rightwisnesse to take or els to kepe, thorow whiche a man shal be saved (of whiche thing al this book mencion hath maked), in every poynte therof grace oweth to be thanked. Wherfore I saye, every wight havinge this rightwisnesse rightful is; and yet therfore I fele not in my conscience, that to al rightful is behoten the blisse everlastinge, but to hem that ben rightful withouten any unrightfulnesse. Some man after some degree may rightfully ben accompted as chaste men in living, and yet ben they janglers and ful of envy pressed; to hem shal this blisse never ben delivered. For right as very blisse is without al maner nede, right so to no man shal it be yeven but to the rightful, voyde from al maner unrightfulnesse founde; so no man to her blisse shal ben folowed, but he be rightful, and with unrightfulnesse not bounde, and in that degree fully be knowe. This rightfulnesse, in as moche as in him-selfe is, of none yvel is it cause; and of al maner goodnesse, trewly, it is *moder. This helpeth the spirit to withsitte the leude lustes of flesshly lykinge. This strengtheth and maintayneth the lawe of kynde; and if that otherwhyle me weneth harm of this precious thing to folowe, therthorough is [it] nothing the cause; of somwhat els cometh it aboute, who-so taketh hede. By rightfulnesse forsothe wern many holy sayntes good savour in swetenesse to god almighty; but that to some folkes they weren savour of dethe, in-to deedly ende, that com not of the sayntes rightwisnesse, but of other wicked mennes badnesse hath proceded. Trewly, the ilke wil, whiche that the Lady of Love me lerned "affeccion of wil" to nempne, which is in willing of profitable thinges, yvel is it not, but whan to flesshly lustes it consenteth ayenst reson of soule. But that this thing more clerely be understande, it is for to knowe, whence and how thilke wil is so vicious, and so redy yvel dedes to perfourme. Grace at the ginninge ordeyned thilke wil in goodnesse ever to have endured, and never to badnesse have assented. Men shulde not byleve, that god thilke wil maked to be vicious [in] our firste *faders, as Adam and Eve; for vicious appetytes, and vicious wil to suche appetytes consentinge, ben not on thing in kynde; other thing is don for the other. And how this wil first in-to man first assented, I holde it profitable to shewe; but if the first condicion of resonable creature wol be considred and apertly loked, lightly the cause of suche wil may be shewed. Intencion of god was, that rightfully and blissed shulde resonable nature ben maked, himselfe for to kepe; but neyther blisful ne rightful might it not be, withouten wil in them bothe. Wil of rightfulnesse is thilke same rightfulnesse, as here-to-forn is shewed; but wil of blisse is not thilke blisse, for every man hath not thilke blisse, in whom the wil therof is abydinge. In this blisse, after every understandinge, is suffisaunce of covenable comoditees without any maner nede, whether it be blisse of aungels or els thilke that grace first in paradise suffred Adam to have. For al-though angels blisse be more than Adams was in paradyse, yet may it not be *denyed, that Adam in paradyse ne had suffisaunce of blisse; for right as greet herte is without al maner of coldenesse, and yet may another herte more hete have; right so nothing defended Adam in paradyse to ben blessed, without al maner nede. Al-though aungels blisse be moche more, forsothe, it foloweth not [that], lasse than another to have, therfore him nedeth; but for to wante a thing whiche that behoveth to ben had, that may "nede" ben cleped; and that was not in Adam at the first ginning. God and the Margaryte weten what I mene. Forsothe, where-as is nede, there is wrecchednesse. *God without cause to-forngoing made not resonable creature wrecched; for him to understande and love had he firste maked. God made therfore man blissed without al maner indigence; *togider and at ones took resonable creature blisse, and wil of blissednesse, and wil of rightfulnesse, whiche is rightfulnesse it-selve, and libertee of arbitrement, that is, free wil, with whiche thilke rightfulnesse may he kepe and lese. So and in that wyse [god] ordayned thilke two, that wil (whiche that "instrument" is cleped, as here-toforn mencion is maked) shulde use thilke rightfulnesse, by teching of his soule to good maner of governaunce, in thought and in wordes; and that it shulde use the blisse in obedient maner, withouten any incommoditè. Blisse, forsothe, in-to mannes profit, and rightwisnesse in-to his worship god delivered at ones; but rightfulnesse so was yeven that man might it lese, whiche if he not lost had, but continuelly [might] have it kept, he shulde have deserved the avauncement in-to the felowshippe of angels, in whiche thing if he that loste, never by him-selfe forward shulde he it mowe ayenward recovere; and as wel the blisse that he was in, as aungels blisse that to-him-wardes was coming, shulde be nome at ones, and he deprived of hem bothe. And thus fil man un-to lykenesse of unresonable bestes; and with hem to corrupcion and unlusty apetytes was he under-throwen. But yet wil of blisse dwelleth, that by indigence of goodes, whiche that he loste through greet wrecchednesse, by right shulde he ben punisshed. And thus, for he weyved rightfulnesse, lost hath he his blisse; but fayle of his desyr in his owne comoditè may he not; and *where comodites to his resonable nature whiche he hath lost may he not have, to false lustes, whiche ben bestial appetytes, he is turned. Folye of unconning hath him begyled, in wening that thilke ben the comoditees that owen to ben desyred. This affeccion of wil by libertè of arbitrement is enduced to wilne thus thing that he shulde not; and so is wil not maked yvel but unrightful, by absence of rightfulnesse, whiche thing by reson ever shulde he have. And freenesse of arbitrement may he not wilne, whan he it not haveth; for while he it had, thilke halp it not to kepe; so that without grace may it not ben recovered. Wil of commoditè, in-as-moche as unrightful it is maked by willinge of yvel lustes, willing of goodnesse may he not wilne; for wil of instrument to affeccion of wil is thralled, sithen that other thing may it not wilne; for wil of instrument to affeccion desyreth, and yet ben bothe they "wil" cleped. For that instrument wol, through affeccion it wilneth; and affeccion desyreth thilke thing wherto instrument him ledeth. And so free wil to unlusty affeccion ful servaunt is maked, for unrightfulnesse may he not releve; and without rightfulnesse ful fredom may it never have. For kyndly libertee of arbitrement without it, veyne and ydel is, forsothe. Wherfore yet I say, (as often have I sayd the same), whan instrument of wil lost hath rightfulnesse, in no maner but by grace may he ayen retourne rightfulnesse to wilne. For sithen nothing but rightfulnesse alone shulde he wilne, what that ever he wilneth without rightfulnesse, unrightfully he it wilneth. These than unrightful appetytes and unthrifty lustes whiche the *flesh desyreth, in as mokel as they ben in kynde, ben they nat bad; but they ben unrightful and badde for they ben in resonable creature, where-as they being, in no waye shulde ben suffred. In unresonable beestes neyther ben they yvel ne unrightful; for there is their kynde being.
KNOWEN may it wel ben now of these thinges toforn declared, that man
hath not alway thilke rightfulnesse which by dutè of right evermore
haven he shulde, and by no way by him-selfe may he it gete ne kepe; and
after he it hath, if he it lese, recover shal he it never without especial
grace. Wherfore the comune sentence of the people in opinion, that every
thing after destenee is ruled, false and wicked is to beleve. For though
predestinacion be as wel of good as of badde, sithen that it is sayd, god
*hath destenees made, whiche he never ne wrought; but, for he suffreth
hem to be maked, as that he hardeth, whan he naught missayth, or *let in-to
temptacion, whan he not delivereth: wherfore it is non inconvenient if
in that maner be sayd, god to-forn have destenyed bothe badde and her badde
werkes, whan hem ne their yvel dedes [he] neyther amendeth ne therto hem
grace *leneth. But specialliche, predestinacion of goodnesse alone is sayd
by these grete clerkes; for in him god doth that they ben, and that in
goodnesse they werchen. But the negatif herof in badnesse is holden, as
the Lady of Love hath me lerned, who-so aright in this booke loketh. And
utterly it is to weten, that predestinacion properly in god may not ben
demed, no more than beforn-weting. For in the chapitre of goddes beforn-weting,
as Love me rehersed, al these maters apertly may ben founden. Al thinges
to god ben now *togider and in presence duringe. Trewly, presence and predestinacion
in nothing disacorden; wherfore, as I was lerned how goddes before-weting
and free choice of wil mowe stonden *togider, me thinketh the same reson
me ledeth, that destenye and free wil accorden, so that neyther of hem
bothe to other in nothing contrarieth. And resonabliche may it not ben
demed, as often as any thing falleth [thorow] free wil werching (as if
a man another man wrongfully anoyeth, wherfore he him sleeth), that it
be constrayned to that ende, as mokel folk cryeth and sayth: "Lo,
as it was destenyed of god toforn knowe, so it is thorow necessitè
falle, and otherwyse might it not betyde." Trewly, neyther he that
the wrong wrought, ne he that him-selfe venged, none of thilke thinges
thorow necessitè wrought for if that [oon] with free wil there had
it not willed, neyther had [he] wrought that he perfourmed; and so utterly
grace, that free Wil in goodnesse bringeth and kepeth, and fro badnesse
it tourneth, in al thinge moste thank deserveth. This grace maketh sentence
in vertue to abyde, wherfore in body and in soule, in ful plentee of conninge,
after their good deserving in the everlastinge joye, after the day of dome
shul they endelesse dwelle; and they shul ben lerned in that kingdom with
so mokel affect of love and of grace, that the leste joye shal of the gretest
in glorie rejoice and ben gladded, as if he the same joye had. What wonder
sith god is the gretest love and the A BREAK HERE IN TH gretest
wisdom? In hem shal he be, and they in god. Now than, whan al false folk
be ashamed, which wenen al bestialtè and erthly thing be sweter
and better to the body than hevenly is to the soule; this is the grace
and the frute that I long have desyred; it doth me good the savour to smelle.
Crist, now to thee I crye of mercy and of grace; and
graunt, of thy goodnes, to every maner reder ful understanding in this
leude pamflet to have; and let no man wene other cause in this werke than
is verily the soth. For envy is ever redy, al innocentes to shende; wherfore
I wolde that good speche envy evermore hinder.
But no man wene this werke be sufficiently maked; for
goddes werke passeth man[ne]s; no man[ne]s wit to parfit werke may by no
way purvay th'ende. How shuld I than, so leude, aught wene of perfeccion
any ende to gete? Never-the-later, grace, glorie, and laude I yelde and
putte with worshipful reverences to the sothfast god, in three with unitè
closed, whiche that the hevy langour of my sicknesse hath turned in-to
mirthe of helth to recover. For right as I was sorowed thorow the gloton
cloud of manifolde sickly sorow, so mirth [of] ayencoming helth hath me
glad[d]ed and gretly comforted. I beseche and pray therfore, and I crye
on goddes gret pitè and on his mokel mercy, that this[el present
scorges of my flessh mow maken medecyne and lechecraft of my inner man[ne]s
helth; so that my passed trespas and tenes through weping of myn eyen ben
wasshe, and I, voyded from al maner disese, and no more to wepe herafter,
y-now be kept thorow goddes grace; so that goddes hand, whiche that merciably
me hath scorged, herafter in good plite from thence merciably me kepe and
defende.
In this boke be many privy thinges wimpled and folde;
unneth shul leude men the plites unwinde. Wherfore I pray to the holy gost,
he lene of his oyntmentes, mennes wittes to clere; and, for goddes love,
no man wonder why or how this question come to my mynde. For my greet lusty
desyr was of this lady to ben enfourmed, my leudenesse to amende. Certes,
I knowe not other mennes wittes, what I shulde aske, or in answere what
I shulde saye; I am so leude my-selfe, that mokel more lerninge yet me
behoveth. I have mad therfore as I coude, but not sufficiently as I wolde,
and as mater yave me sentence; for my dul wit is hindred by *stepmoder
of foryeting and with cloude of unconning, that stoppeth the light of my
Margarite-perle, wherfore it may not shyne on me as it shulde. I desyre
not only a good reder, but also I coveite and pray a good book-amender,
in correccion of wordes and of sentence; and only this mede I coveite for
my travayle, that every inseër and herer of this leude fantasye devoute
horisons and prayers to god the greet juge yelden; and prayen for me in
that wyse, that in his dome my sinnes mowe ben relesed and foryeven. He
that prayeth for other for him-selfe travayleth.
Also I praye, that every man parfitly mowe knowe thorow
what intencion of herte this tretys have I drawe. How was it, that sightful
manna in deserte to children of Israel was spirituel mete? Bodily also
it was, for mennes bodies it *norisshed; and yet, never-the-later, Crist
it signifyed. Right so a jewel betokeneth a gemme, and that is a stoon
vertuous or els a perle. Margarite, a woman, betokeneth grace, lerning,
or wisdom of god, or els holy church. If breed, thorow vertue, is mad holy
flesshe, what is that our god sayth? "It is the spirit that yeveth
lyf; the flesshe, of nothing it profiteth." Flesshe is flesshly understandinge;
flessh without grace and love naught is worth, "The letter sleeth
; the spirit yeveth lyfelich understanding." Charitè is love;
and love is charitè.
God graunt us al[le] therin to be frended!
And thus THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE is ended.