pourchace, Thou miht noght make suite and chace, 2930 Wher that the game is nought pernable; It were a thing unresonable, A man to be so overseie. Forthi tak hiede of that I seie; For in the lawe of my comune We be noght schape to comune, Thiself and I, nevere after this. Now have y seid al that ther is Of love as for thi final ende: Adieu, for y mot fro the wende." 2940 And with that word al sodeinly, Enclosid in a sterred sky, Venus, which is the qweene of love, Was take in to hire place above, More wiste y nought wher sche becam. And thus my leve of hire y nam, And forth with al the same tide Hire prest, which wolde nought abide, Or be me lief or be me loth, Out of my sighte forth he goth, 2950 And y was left with outen helpe. So wiste I nought wher of to yelpe, Bot only that y hadde lore My time, and was sori ther fore. And thus bewhapid in my thought, Whan al was turnyd in to nought, I stod amasid for a while, And in my self y gan to smyle Thenkende uppon the bedis blake, And how they weren me betake, 2960 For that y schulde bidde and preie. And whanne y sigh non othre weie Bot only that y was refusid, Unto the lif which y hadde usid I thoughte nevere torne ayein: And in this wise, soth to seyn, Homward a softe pas y wente, Wher that with al myn hol entente Uppon the point that y am schryve I thenke bidde whil y live. 2970 He which withinne daies sevene This large world forth with the hevene Of his eternal providence Hath mad, and thilke intelligence In mannys soule resonable Hath schape to be perdurable, Wherof the man of his feture Above alle erthli creature Aftir the soule is immortal, To thilke lord in special, 2980 As he which is of alle thinges The creatour, and of the kynges Hath the fortunes uppon honde, His grace and mercy forto fonde Uppon my bare knes y preie, That he this lond in siker weie Wol sette uppon good governance. For if men takyn remembrance What is to live in unite, Ther ys no staat in his degree 2990 That noughte to desire pes, With outen which, it is no les, To seche and loke in to the laste, Ther may no worldes joye laste. Ferst forto loke the Clergie, Hem oughte wel to justefie Thing which belongith to here cure, As forto praie and to procure Oure pes toward the hevene above, And ek to sette reste and love 3000 Among ous on this erthe hiere. For if they wroughte in this manere Aftir the reule of charite, I hope that men schuldyn se This lond amende. And ovyr this, To seche and loke how that it is Touchende of the chevalerie, Which forto loke, in som partie Is worthi forto be comendid, And in som part to ben amendid, 3010 That of here large retenue The lond is ful of maintenue, Which causith that the comune right In fewe contrees stant upright. Extorcioun, contekt, ravine Withholde ben of that covyne, Aldai men hierin gret compleignte Of the desease, of the constreignte, Wher of the poeple is sore oppressid: God graunte it mote be redressid. 3020 For of knyghthode thordre wolde That thei defende and kepe scholde The comun right and the fraunchise Of holy cherche in alle wise, So that no wikke man it dere, And ther fore servith scheld and spere: Bot for it goth now other weie, Oure grace goth the more aweie. And forto lokyn ovyrmore, Wher of the poeple pleigneth sore, 3030 Toward the lawis of oure lond, Men sein that trouthe hath broke his bond And with brocage is goon aweie, So that no man can se the weie Wher forto fynde rightwisnesse. And if men sechin sikernesse Uppon the lucre of marchandie, Compassement and tricherie Of singuler profit to wynne, Men seyn, is cause of mochil synne, 3040 And namely of divisioun, Which many a noble worthi toun Fro welthe and fro prosperite Hath brought to gret adversite. So were it good to ben al on, For mechil grace ther uppon Unto the Citees schulde falle, Which myghte availle to ous alle, If these astatz amendid were, So that the vertus stodyn there 3050 And that the vices were aweie: Me thenkth y dorste thanne seie, This londis grace schulde arise. Bot yit to loke in othre wise, Ther is a stat, as ye schul hiere, Above alle othre on erthe hiere, Which hath the lond in his balance: To him belongith the leiance Of Clerk, of knyght, of man of lawe; Undir his hond al is forth drawe 3060 The marchant and the laborer; So stant it al in his power Or forto spille or forto save. Bot though that he such power have, And that his myghtes ben so large, He hath hem nought withouten charge, To which that every kyng ys swore: So were it good that he ther fore First un to rightwisnesse entende, Wherof that he hym self amende 3070 Toward his god and leve vice, Which is the chief of his office; And aftir al the remenant He schal uppon his covenant Governe and lede in such a wise, So that ther be no tirandise, Wherof that he his poeple grieve, Or ellis may he nought achieve That longith to his regalie. For if a kyng wol justifie 3080 His lond and hem that beth withynne, First at hym self he mot begynne, To kepe and reule his owne astat, That in hym self be no debat Toward his god: for othre wise Ther may non erthly kyng suffise Of his kyngdom the folk to lede, Bot he the kyng of hevene drede. For what kyng sett hym uppon pride And takth his lust on every side 3090 And wil nought go the righte weie, Though god his grace caste aweie No wondir is, for ate laste He schal wel wite it mai nought laste, The pompe which he secheth here. Bot what kyng that with humble chere Aftir the lawe of god eschuieth The vices, and the vertus suieth, His grace schal be suffisant To governe al the remenant 3100 Which longith to his duite; So that in his prosperite The poeple schal nought ben oppressid, Wherof his name schal be blessid, For evere and be memorial. And now to speke as in final, Touchende that y undirtok In englesch forto make a book Which stant betwene ernest and game, I have it maad as thilke same 3110 Which axe forto ben excusid, And that my bok be nought refusid Of lered men, whan thei it se, For lak of curiosite: For thilke scole of eloquence Belongith nought to my science, Uppon the forme of rethoriqe My wordis forto peinte and pike, As Tullius som tyme wrot. Bot this y knowe and this y wot, 3120 That y have do my trewe peyne With rude wordis and with pleyne, In al that evere y couthe and myghte, This bok to write as y behighte, So as siknesse it soffre wolde; And also for my daies olde, That y am feble and impotent, I wot nought how the world ys went. So preye y to my lordis alle Now in myn age, how so befalle, 3130 That y mot stonden in here grace: For though me lacke to purchace Here worthi thonk as by decerte, Yit the symplesse of my poverte Desireth forto do plesance To hem undir whos governance I hope siker to abide. But now uppon my laste tide That y this book have maad and write, My muse doth me forto wite, 3140 And seith it schal be for my beste Fro this day forth to take reste, That y nomore of love make, Which many an herte hath overtake, And ovyrturnyd as the blynde Fro reson in to lawe of kynde; Wher as the wisdom goth aweie And can nought se the ryhte weie How to governe his oghne estat, Bot everydai stant in debat 3150 Withinne him self, and can nought leve. And thus forthy my final leve I take now for evere more, Withoute makynge any more, Of love and of his dedly hele, Which no phisicien can hele. For his nature is so divers, That it hath evere som travers Or of to moche or of to lite, That pleinly mai noman delite, 3160 Bot if him faile or that or this. Bot thilke love which that is Withinne a mannes herte affermed, And stant of charite confermed, Such love is goodly forto have, Such love mai the bodi save, Such love mai the soule amende, The hyhe god such love ous sende Forthwith the remenant of grace; So that above in thilke place 3170 Wher resteth love and alle pes, Oure joie mai ben endeles.



Explicit iste liber, qui transeat, obsecro liber, Vt sine liuore vigeat lectoris in ore. Qui sedet in scannis celi det vt ista lohannis Perpetuis annis stet pagina grata Britannis, Derbeie Comiti, recolunt quem laude periti, Vade liber purus, sub eo requiesce futurus.

[End of CONFESSIO AMANTIS]