this thei telle, Hire child schal noght among hem duelle, To cleymen eny heritage. So can I se non avantage, Bot al is lost, if sche abide: Forthi to loke on every side Toward the meschief as it is, I charge you and bidde this, 1030 That ye the same Schip vitaile, In which that sche tok arivaile, Therinne and putteth bothe tuo, Hireself forthwith hire child also, And so forth broght unto the depe Betaketh hire the See to kepe. Of foure daies time I sette, That ye this thing no longer lette, So that your lif be noght forsfet." And thus this lettre contrefet 1040 The Messager, which was unwar, Upon the kingeshalve bar, And where he scholde it hath betake. Bot whan that thei have hiede take, And rad that writen is withinne, So gret a sorwe thei beginne, As thei here oghne Moder sihen Brent in a fyr before here yhen: Ther was wepinge and ther was wo, Bot finaly the thing is do. 1050 Upon the See thei have hire broght, Bot sche the cause wiste noght, And thus upon the flod thei wone, This ladi with hire yonge Sone: And thanne hire handes to the hevene Sche strawhte, and with a milde stevene Knelende upon hire bare kne Sche seide, "O hihe mageste, Which sest the point of every trowthe, Tak of thi wofull womman rowthe 1060 And of this child that I schal kepe." And with that word sche gan to wepe, Swounende as ded, and ther sche lay; Bot he which alle thinges may Conforteth hire, and ate laste Sche loketh and hire yhen caste Upon hire child and seide this: "Of me no maner charge it is What sorwe I soffre, bot of thee Me thenkth it is a gret pite, 1070 For if I sterve thou schalt deie: So mot I nedes be that weie For Moderhed and for tendresse With al myn hole besinesse Ordeigne me for thilke office, As sche which schal be thi Norrice." Thus was sche strengthed forto stonde; And tho sche tok hire child in honde And yaf it sowke, and evere among Sche wepte, and otherwhile song 1080 To rocke with hire child aslepe: And thus hire oghne child to kepe Sche hath under the goddes cure. And so fell upon aventure, Whan thilke yer hath mad his ende, Hire Schip, so as it moste wende Thurgh strengthe of wynd which god hath yive, Estward was into Spaigne drive Riht faste under a Castell wall, Wher that an hethen Amirall 1090 Was lord, and he a Stieward hadde, Oon Thelo
s, which al was badde, A fals knyht and a renegat. He goth to loke in what astat The Schip was come, and there he fond Forth with a child upon hire hond This lady, wher sche was al one. He tok good hiede of the persone, And sih sche was a worthi wiht, And thoghte he wolde upon the nyht 1100 Demene hire at his oghne wille, And let hire be therinne stille, That mo men sih sche noght that dai. At goddes wille and thus sche lai, Unknowe what hire schal betide; And fell so that be nyhtes tide This knyht withoute felaschipe Hath take a bot and cam to Schipe, And thoghte of hire his lust to take, And swor, if sche him daunger make, 1110 That certeinly sche scholde deie. Sche sih ther was non other weie, And seide he scholde hire wel conforte, That he ferst loke out ate porte, That noman were nyh the stede, Which myhte knowe what thei dede, And thanne he mai do what he wolde. He was riht glad that sche so tolde, And to the porte anon he ferde: Sche preide god, and he hire herde, 1120 And sodeinliche he was out throwe And dreynt, and tho began to blowe A wynd menable fro the lond, And thus the myhti goddes hond Hire hath conveied and defended. And whan thre yer be full despended, Hire Schip was drive upon a dai, Wher that a gret Navye lay Of Schipes, al the world at ones: And as god wolde for the nones, 1130 Hire Schip goth in among hem alle, And stinte noght, er it be falle And hath the vessell undergete, Which Maister was of al the Flete, Bot there it resteth and abod. This grete Schip on Anker rod; The Lord cam forth, and whan he sih That other ligge abord so nyh, He wondreth what it myhte be, And bad men to gon in and se. 1140 This ladi tho was crope aside, As sche that wolde hireselven hide, For sche ne wiste what thei were: Thei soghte aboute and founde hir there And broghten up hire child and hire; And therupon this lord to spire Began, fro whenne that sche cam, And what sche was. Quod sche, "I am A womman wofully bestad. I hadde a lord, and thus he bad, 1150 That I forth with my litel Sone Upon the wawes scholden wone, Bot why the cause was, I not: Bot he which alle thinges wot Yit hath, I thonke him, of his miht Mi child and me so kept upriht, That we be save bothe tuo." This lord hire axeth overmo How sche believeth, and sche seith, "I lieve and triste in Cristes feith, 1160 Which deide upon the Rode tree." "What is thi name?" tho quod he. "Mi name is Couste," sche him seide: Bot forthermor for noght he preide Of hire astat to knowe plein, Sche wolde him nothing elles sein Bot of hir name, which sche feigneth; Alle othre thinges sche restreigneth, That a word more sche ne tolde. This lord thanne axeth if sche wolde 1170 With him abide in compaignie, And seide he cam fro Barbarie To Romeward, and hom he wente. Tho sche supposeth what it mente, And seith sche wolde with him wende And duelle unto hire lyves ende, Be so it be to his plesance. And thus upon here aqueintance He tolde hire pleinly as it stod, Of Rome how that the gentil blod 1180 In Barbarie was betraied, And therupon he hath assaied Be werre, and taken such vengance, That non of al thilke alliance, Be whom the tresoun was compassed, Is from the swerd alyve passed; Bot of Constance hou it was, That cowthe he knowe be no cas, Wher sche becam, so as he seide. Hire Ere unto his word sche leide, 1190 Bot forther made sche no chiere. And natheles in this matiere It happeth thilke time so: This Lord, with whom sche scholde go, Of Rome was the Senatour, And of hir fader themperour His brother doughter hath to wyve, Which hath hir fader ek alyve, And was Salustes cleped tho; This wif Heleine hihte also, 1200 To whom Constance was Cousine. Thus to the sike a medicine Hath god ordeined of his grace, That forthwith in the same place This Senatour his trowthe plihte, For evere, whil he live mihte, To kepe in worschipe and in welthe, Be so that god wol yive hire helthe, This ladi, which fortune him sende. And thus be Schipe forth sailende 1210 Hire and hir child to Rome he broghte, And to his wif tho he besoghte To take hire into compaignie: And sche, which cowthe of courtesie Al that a good wif scholde konne, Was inly glad that sche hath wonne The felaschip of so good on. Til tuelve yeres were agon, This Emperoures dowhter Custe Forth with the dowhter of Saluste 1220 Was kept, bot noman redily Knew what sche was, and noght forthi Thei thoghten wel sche hadde be In hire astat of hih degre, And every lif hire loveth wel. Now herke how thilke unstable whel, Which evere torneth, wente aboute. The king Allee, whil he was oute, As thou tofore hast herd this cas, Deceived thurgh his Moder was: 1230 Bot whan that he cam hom ayein, He axeth of his Chamberlein And of the Bisschop ek also, Wher thei the qweene hadden do. And thei answerde, there he bad, And have him thilke lettre rad, Which he hem sende for warant, And tolde him pleinli as it stant, And sein, it thoghte hem gret pite To se so worthi on as sche, 1240 With such a child as ther was bore, So sodeinly to be forlore. He axeth hem what child that were; And thei him seiden, that naghere, In al the world thogh men it soghte, Was nevere womman that forth broghte A fairer child than it was on. And thanne he axede hem anon, Whi thei ne hadden write so: Thei tolden, so thei hadden do. 1250 He seide, "Nay." Thei seiden, "Yis." The lettre schewed rad it is, Which thei forsoken everidel. Tho was it understonde wel That ther is tresoun in the thing: The Messager tofore the king Was broght and sodeinliche opposed; And he, which nothing hath supposed Bot alle wel, began to seie That he nagher upon the weie 1260 Abod, bot only in a stede; And cause why that he so dede Was, as he wente to and fro, At Knaresburgh be nyhtes tuo The kinges Moder made him duelle. And whan the king it herde telle, Withinne his herte he wiste als faste The treson which his Moder caste; And thoghte he wolde noght abide, Bot forth riht in the same tide 1270 He tok his hors and rod anon. With him ther riden manion, To Knaresburgh and forth thei wente, And lich the fyr which tunder hente, In such a rage, as seith the bok, His Moder sodeinliche he tok And seide unto hir in this wise: "O beste of helle, in what juise Hast thou deserved forto deie, That hast so falsly put aweie 1280 With tresoun of thi bacbitinge The treweste at my knowlechinge Of wyves and the most honeste? Bot I wol make this beheste, I schal be venged er I go." And let a fyr do make tho, And bad men forto caste hire inne: Bot ferst sche tolde out al the sinne, And dede hem alle forto wite How sche the lettres hadde write, 1290 Fro point to point as it was wroght. And tho sche was to dethe broght And brent tofore hire Sones yhe: Wherof these othre, whiche it sihe And herden how the cause stod, Sein that the juggement is good, Of that hir Sone hire hath so served; For sche it hadde wel deserved Thurgh tresoun of hire false tunge, Which thurgh the lond was after sunge, 1300 Constance and every wiht compleigneth. Bot he, whom alle wo distreigneth, This sorghfull king, was so bestad, That he schal nevermor be glad, He seith, eftsone forto wedde, Til that he wiste how that sche spedde, Which hadde ben his ferste wif: And thus his yonge unlusti lif He dryveth forth so as he mai. Til it befell upon a dai, 1310 Whan he hise werres hadde achieved, And thoghte he wolde be relieved Of Soule hele upon the feith Which he hath take, thanne he seith That he to Rome in pelrinage Wol go, wher Pope was Pelage, To take his absolucioun. And upon this condicioun He made Edwyn his lieutenant, Which heir to him was apparant, 1320 That he the lond in his absence Schal reule: and thus be providence Of alle thinges wel begon He tok his leve and forth is gon. Elda, which tho was with him there, Er thei fulliche at Rome were, Was sent tofore to pourveie; And he his guide upon the weie, In help to ben his herbergour, Hath axed who was Senatour, 1330 That he his name myhte kenne. Of Capadoce, he seide, Arcenne He hihte, and was a worthi kniht. To him goth Elda tho forth riht And tolde him of his lord tidinge, And preide that for his comynge He wolde assigne him herbergage; And he so dede of good corage. Whan al is do that was to done, The king himself cam after sone. 1340 This Senatour, whan that he com, To Couste and to his wif at hom Hath told how such a king Allee Of gret array to the Citee Was come, and Couste upon his tale With herte clos and colour pale Aswoune fell, and he merveileth So sodeinly what thing hire eyleth, And cawhte hire up, and whan sche wok, Sche syketh with a pitous lok 1350 And feigneth seknesse of the See; Bot it was for the king Allee, For joie which fell in hire thoght That god him hath to toune broght. This king hath spoke with the Pope And told al that he cowthe agrope, What grieveth in his conscience; And thanne he thoghte in reverence Of his astat, er that he wente, To make a feste, and thus he sente 1360 Unto the Senatour to come Upon the morwe and othre some, To sitte with him at the mete. This tale hath Couste noght foryete, Bot to Moris hire Sone tolde That he upon the morwe scholde In al that evere he cowthe and mihte Be present in the kinges sihte, So that the king him ofte sihe. Moris tofore the kinges yhe 1370 Upon the morwe, wher he sat, Fulofte stod, and upon that The king his chiere upon him caste, And in his face him thoghte als faste He sih his oghne wif Constance; For nature as in resemblance Of face hem liketh so to clothe, That thei were of a suite bothe. The king was moeved in his thoght Of that he seth, and knoweth it noght; 1380 This child he loveth kindely, And yit he wot no cause why. Bot wel he sih and understod That he toward Arcenne stod, And axeth him anon riht there, If that this child his Sone were. He seide, "Yee, so I him calle, And wolde it were so befalle, Bot it is al in other wise." And tho began he to devise 1390 How he the childes Moder fond Upon the See from every lond Withinne a Schip was stiereles, And how this ladi helpeles Forth with hir child he hath forthdrawe. The king hath understonde his sawe, The childes name and axeth tho, And what the Moder hihte also That he him wolde telle he preide. "Moris this child is hote," he seide, 1400 "His Moder hatte Couste, and this I not what maner name it is." But Allee wiste wel ynowh, Wherof somdiel smylende he lowh; For Couste in Saxoun is to sein Constance upon the word Romein. Bot who that cowthe specefie What tho fell in his fantasie, And how his wit aboute renneth Upon the love in which he brenneth, 1410 It were a wonder forto hiere: For he was nouther ther ne hiere, Bot clene out of himself aweie, That he not what to thenke or seie, So fain he wolde it were sche. Wherof his hertes privete Began the werre of yee and nay, The which in such balance lay, That contenance for a throwe He loste, til he mihte knowe 1420 The sothe: bot in his memoire The man which lith in purgatoire Desireth noght the hevene more, That he ne longeth al so sore To wite what him schal betide. And whan the bordes were aside And every man was rise aboute, The king hath weyved al the route, And with the Senatour al one He spak and preide him of a bone, 1430 To se this Couste, wher sche duelleth At hom with him, so as he telleth. The Senatour was wel appaied, This thing no lengere is delaied, To se this Couste goth the king; And sche was warned of the thing, And with Heleine forth sche cam Ayein the king, and he tho nam Good hiede, and whan he sih his wif, Anon with al his hertes lif 1440 He cawhte hire in his arm and kiste. Was nevere wiht that sih ne wiste A man that more joie made, Wherof thei weren alle glade Whiche herde tellen of this chance. This king tho with his wif Constance, Which hadde a gret part of his wille, In Rome for a time stille Abod and made him wel at ese: Bot so yit cowthe he nevere plese 1450 His wif, that sche him wolde sein Of hire astat the trowthe plein, Of what contre that sche was bore, Ne what sche was, and yit therfore With al his wit he hath don sieke. Thus as they lihe abedde and spieke, Sche preide him and conseileth bothe, That for the worschipe of hem bothe, So as hire thoghte it were honeste, He wolde an honourable feste 1460 Make, er he wente, in the Cite, Wher themperour himself schal be: He graunteth al that sche him preide. Bot as men in that time seide, This Emperour fro thilke day That ferst his dowhter wente away He was thanne after nevere glad; Bot what that eny man him bad Of grace for his dowhter sake, That grace wolde he noght forsake; 1470 And thus ful gret almesse he dede, Wherof sche hadde many a bede. This Emperour out of the toun Withinne a ten mile enviroun, Where as it thoghte him for the beste, Hath sondry places forto reste; And as fortune wolde tho, He was duellende at on of tho. The king Allee forth with thassent Of Couste his wif hath thider sent 1480 Moris his Sone, as he was taght, To themperour and he goth straght, And in his fader half besoghte, As he which his lordschipe soghte, That of his hihe worthinesse He wolde do so gret meknesse, His oghne toun to come and se, And yive a time in the cite, So that his fader mihte him gete That he wolde ones with him ete. 1490 This lord hath granted his requeste; And whan the dai was of the feste, In worschipe of here Emperour The king and ek the Senatour Forth with here wyves bothe tuo, With many a lord and lady mo, On horse riden him ayein; Til it befell, upon a plein Thei sihen wher he was comende. With that Constance anon preiende 1500 Spak to hir lord that he abyde, So that sche mai tofore ryde, To ben upon his bienvenue The ferste which schal him salue; And thus after hire lordes graunt Upon a Mule whyt amblaunt Forth with a fewe rod this qweene. Thei wondren what sche wolde mene, And riden after softe pas; Bot whan this ladi come was 1510 To themperour, in his presence Sche seide alowd in audience, "Mi lord, mi fader, wel you be! And of this time that I se Youre honour and your goode hele, Which is the helpe of my querele, I thonke unto the goddes myht." For joie his herte was affliht Of that sche tolde in remembrance; And whanne he wiste it was Constance, 1520 Was nevere fader half so blithe. Wepende he keste hire ofte sithe, So was his herte al overcome; For thogh his Moder were come Fro deth to lyve out of the grave, He mihte nomor wonder have Than he hath whan that he hire sih. With that hire oghne lord cam nyh And is to themperour obeied; Bot whan the fortune is bewreied, 1530 How that Constance is come aboute, So hard an herte was non oute, That he for pite tho ne wepte. Arcennus, which hire fond and kepte, Was thanne glad of that is falle, So that with joie among hem alle Thei riden in at Rome gate. This Emperour thoghte al to late, Til that the Pope were come, And of the lordes sende some 1540 To preie him that he wolde haste: And he cam forth in alle haste, And whan that he the tale herde, How wonderly this chance ferde, He thonketh god of his miracle, To whos miht mai be non obstacle: The king a noble feste hem made, And thus thei weren alle glade. A parlement, er that thei wente, Thei setten unto this entente, 1550 To puten Rome in full espeir That Moris was apparant heir And scholde abide with hem stille, For such was al the londes wille. Whan every thing was fulli spoke, Of sorwe and queint was al the smoke, Tho tok his leve Allee the king, And with full many a riche thing, Which themperour him hadde yive, He goth a glad lif forto live; 1560 For he Constance hath in his hond, Which was the confort of his lond. For whan that he cam hom ayein, Ther is no tunge it mihte sein What joie was that ilke stounde Of that he hath his qweene founde, Which ferst was sent of goddes sonde, Whan sche was drive upon the Stronde, Be whom the misbelieve of Sinne Was left, and Cristes feith cam inne 1570 To hem that whilom were blinde. Bot he which hindreth every kinde And for no gold mai be forboght, The deth comende er he be soght, Tok with this king such aqueintance, That he with al his retenance Ne mihte noght defende his lif; And thus he parteth from his wif, Which thanne made sorwe ynowh. And therupon hire herte drowh 1580 To leven Engelond for evere And go wher that sche hadde levere, To Rome, whenne that sche cam: And thus of al the lond sche nam Hir leve, and goth to Rome ayein. And after that the bokes sein, She was noght there bot a throwe, Whan deth of kinde hath overthrowe Hir worthi fader, which men seide That he betwen hire armes deide. 1590 And afterward the yer suiende The god hath mad of hire an ende, And fro this worldes faierie Hath take hire into compaignie. Moris hir Sone was corouned, Which so ferforth was abandouned To Cristes feith, that men him calle Moris the cristeneste of alle. And thus the wel meninge of love Was ate laste set above; 1600 And so as thou hast herd tofore, The false tunges weren lore, Whiche upon love wolden lie. Forthi touchende of this Envie Which longeth unto bacbitinge, Be war thou make no lesinge In hindringe of an other wiht: And if thou wolt be tawht ariht What meschief bakbitinge doth Be other weie, a tale soth 1610 Now miht thou hiere next suiende, Which to this vice is acordende. In a Cronique, as thou schalt wite, A gret ensample I finde write, Which I schal telle upon this thing. Philippe of Macedoyne kyng Two Sones hadde be his wif, Whos fame is yit in Grece rif: Demetrius the ferste brother Was hote, and Perse
s that other. 1620 Demetrius men seiden tho The betre knyht was of the tuo, To whom the lond was entendant, As he which heir was apparant To regne after his fader dai: Bot that thing which no water mai Quenche in this world, bot evere brenneth, Into his brother herte it renneth, The proude Envie of that he sih His brother scholde clymbe on hih, 1630 And he to him mot thanne obeie: That may he soffre be no weie. With strengthe dorst he nothing fonde, So tok he lesinge upon honde, Whan he sih time and spak therto. For it befell that time so, His fader grete werres hadde With Rome, whiche he streite ladde Thurgh mihty hond of his manhode, As he which hath ynowh knihthode, 1640 And ofte hem hadde sore grieved. Bot er the werre were achieved, As he was upon ordinance At hom in Grece, it fell per chance, Demetrius, which ofte aboute Ridende was, stod that time oute, So that this Perse in his absence, Which bar the tunge of pestilence, With false wordes whiche he feigneth Upon his oghne brother pleigneth 1650 In privete behinde his bak, And to his fader thus he spak: "Mi diere fader, I am holde Be weie of kinde, as resoun wolde, That I fro yow schal nothing hide, Which mihte torne in eny side Of youre astat into grevance: Forthi myn hertes obeissance Towardes you I thenke kepe; For it is good ye take kepe 1660 Upon a thing which is me told. Mi brother hath ous alle sold To hem of Rome, and you also; For thanne they behote him so, That he with hem schal regne in pes. Thus hath he cast for his encress That youre astat schal go to noght; And this to proeve schal be broght So ferforth, that I undertake It schal noght wel mow be forsake." 1670 The king upon this tale ansuerde And seide, if this thing which he herde Be soth and mai be broght to prove, "It schal noght be to his behove, Which so hath schapen ous the werste, For he himself schal be the ferste That schal be ded, if that I mai." Thus afterward upon a dai, Whan that Demetrius was come, Anon his fader hath him nome, 1680 And bad unto his brother Perse That he his tale schal reherse Of thilke tresoun which he tolde. And he, which al untrowthe wolde, Conseileth that so hih a nede Be treted wher as it mai spede, In comun place of juggement. The king therto yaf his assent, Demetrius was put in hold, Wherof that Perse
s was bold. 1690 Thus stod the trowthe under the charge, And the falshede goth at large, Which thurgh beheste hath overcome The greteste of the lordes some, That privelich of his acord Thei stonde as witnesse of record: The jugge was mad favorable: Thus was the lawe deceivable So ferforth that the trowthe fond Rescousse non, and thus the lond 1700 Forth with the king deceived were. The gulteles was dampned there And deide upon accusement: Bot such a fals conspirement, Thogh it be prive for a throwe, Godd wolde noght it were unknowe; And that was afterward wel proved In him which hath the deth controved. Of that his brother was so slain This Perse
s was wonder fain, 1710 As he that tho was apparant, Upon the Regne and expectant; Wherof he wax so proud and vein, That he his fader in desdeign Hath take and set of non acompte, As he which thoghte him to surmonte; That wher he was ferst debonaire, He was tho rebell and contraire, And noght as heir bot as a king He tok upon him alle thing 1720 Of malice and of tirannie In contempt of the Regalie, Livende his fader, and so wroghte, That whan the fader him bethoghte And sih to whether side it drowh, Anon he wiste well ynowh How Perse after his false tunge Hath so thenvious belle runge, That he hath slain his oghne brother. Wherof as thanne he knew non other, 1730 Bot sodeinly the jugge he nom, Which corrupt sat upon the dom, In such a wise and hath him pressed, That he the sothe him hath confessed Of al that hath be spoke and do. Mor sori than the king was tho Was nevere man upon this Molde, And thoghte in certain that he wolde Vengance take upon this wrong. Bot thother parti was so strong, 1740 That for the lawe of no statut Ther mai no riht ben execut; And upon this division The lond was torned up so doun: Wherof his herte is so distraght, That he for pure sorwe hath caght The maladie of which nature Is queint in every creature. And whan this king was passed thus, This false tunged Perse
s 1750 The regiment hath underfonge. Bot ther mai nothing stonde longe Which is noght upon trowthe grounded; For god, which alle thing hath bounded And sih the falshod of his guile, Hath set him bot a litel while, That he schal regne upon depos; For sodeinliche as he aros So sodeinliche doun he fell. In thilke time it so befell, 1760 This newe king of newe Pride With strengthe schop him forto ride, And seide he wolde Rome waste, Wherof he made a besi haste, And hath assembled him an host In al that evere he mihte most: What man that mihte wepne bere Of alle he wolde non forbere; So that it mihte noght be nombred, The folk which after was encombred 1770 Thurgh him, that god wolde overthrowe. Anon it was at Rome knowe, The pompe which that Perse ladde; And the Romeins that time hadde A Consul, which was cleped thus Be name, Paul Emilius, A noble, a worthi kniht withalle; And he, which chief was of hem alle, This werre on honde hath undertake. And whanne he scholde his leve take 1780 Of a yong dowhter which was his, Sche wepte, and he what cause it is Hire axeth, and sche him ansuerde That Perse is ded; and he it herde, And wondreth what sche meene wolde: And sche upon childhode him tolde That Perse hir litel hound is ded. With that he pulleth up his hed And made riht a glad visage, And seide how that was a presage 1790 Touchende unto that other Perse, Of that fortune him scholde adverse, He seith, for such a prenostik Most of an hound was to him lik: For as it is an houndes kinde To berke upon a man behinde, Riht so behinde his brother bak With false wordes whiche he spak He hath do slain, and that is rowthe. "Bot he which hateth alle untrowthe, 1800 The hihe god, it schal redresse; For so my dowhter prophetesse Forth with hir litel houndes deth Betokneth." And thus forth he geth Conforted of this evidence, With the Romeins in his defence Ayein the Greks that ben comende. This Perse
s, as noght seende This meschief which that him abod, With al his multitude rod, 1810 And prided him upon the thing, Of that he was become a king, And how he hadde his regne gete; Bot he hath al the riht foryete Which longeth unto governance. Wherof thurgh goddes ordinance It fell, upon the wynter tide That with his host he scholde ride Over Danubie thilke flod, Which al befrose thanne stod 1820 So harde, that he wende wel To passe: bot the blinde whiel, Which torneth ofte er men be war, Thilke ys which that the horsmen bar Tobrak, so that a gret partie Was dreint; of the chivalerie The rerewarde it tok aweie, Cam non of hem to londe dreie. Paulus the worthi kniht Romein Be his aspie it herde sein, 1830 And hasteth him al that he may, So that upon that other day He cam wher he this host beheld, And that was in a large feld, Wher the Baneres ben desplaied. He hath anon hise men arraied, And whan that he was embatailled, He goth and hath the feld assailed, And slowh and tok al that he fond; Wherof the Macedoyne lond, 1840 Which thurgh king Alisandre honoured Long time stod, was tho devoured. To Perse and al that infortune Thei wyte, so that the comune Of al the lond his heir exile; And he despeired for the while Desguised in a povere wede To Rome goth, and ther for nede The craft which thilke time was, To worche in latoun and in bras, 1850 He lerneth for his sustienance. Such was the Sones pourveance, And of his fader it is seid, In strong prisoun that he was leid In Albe, wher that he was ded For hunger and defalte of bred. The hound was tokne and prophecie That lich an hound he scholde die, Which lich was of condicioun, Whan he with his detraccioun 1860 Bark on his brother so behinde. Lo, what profit a man mai finde, Which hindre wole an other wiht. Forthi with al thin hole miht, Mi Sone, eschuie thilke vice. Mi fader, elles were I nyce: For ye therof so wel have spoke, That it is in myn herte loke And evere schal: bot of Envie, If ther be more in his baillie 1870 Towardes love, sai me what. Mi Sone, as guile under the hat With sleyhtes of a tregetour Is hidd, Envie of such colour Hath yit the ferthe deceivant, The which is cleped Falssemblant, Wherof the matiere and the forme Now herkne and I thee schal enforme. Of Falssemblant if I schal telle, Above alle othre it is the welle 1880 Out of the which deceipte floweth. Ther is noman so wys that knoweth Of thilke flod which is the tyde, Ne how he scholde himselven guide To take sauf passage there. And yit the wynd to mannes Ere Is softe, and as it semeth oute It makth clier weder al aboute; Bot thogh it seme, it is noght so. For Falssemblant hath everemo 1890 Of his conseil in compaignie The derke untrewe Ypocrisie, Whos word descordeth to his thoght: Forthi thei ben togedre broght Of o covine, of on houshold, As it schal after this be told. Of Falssemblant it nedeth noght To telle of olde ensamples oght; For al dai in experience A man mai se thilke evidence 1900 Of faire wordes whiche he hiereth; Bot yit the barge Envie stiereth And halt it evere fro the londe, Wher Falssemblant with Ore on honde It roweth, and wol noght arive, Bot let it on the wawes dryve In gret tempeste and gret debat, Wherof that love and his astat Empeireth. And therfore I rede, Mi Sone, that thou fle and drede 1910 This vice, and what that othre sein, Let thi Semblant be trewe and plein. For Falssemblant is thilke vice, Which nevere was withoute office: Wher that Envie thenkth to guile, He schal be for that ilke while Of prive conseil Messagier. For whan his semblant is most clier, Thanne is he most derk in his thoght, Thogh men him se, thei knowe him noght; 1920 Bot as it scheweth in the glas Thing which therinne nevere was, So scheweth it in his visage That nevere was in his corage: Thus doth he al his thing with sleyhte. Now ley thi conscience in weyhte, Mi goode Sone, and schrif the hier, If thou were evere Custummer To Falssemblant in eny wise. For ought I can me yit avise, 1930 Mi goode fader, certes no. If I for love have oght do so, Now asketh, I wol praie yow: For elles I wot nevere how Of Falssemblant that I have gilt. Mi Sone, and sithen that thou wilt That I schal axe, gabbe noght, Bot tell if evere was thi thoght With Falssemblant and coverture To wite of eny creature 1940 How that he was with love lad; So were he sori, were he glad, Whan that thou wistest how it were, Al that he rounede in thin Ere Thou toldest forth in other place, To setten him fro loves grace Of what womman that thee beste liste, Ther as noman his conseil wiste Bot thou, be whom he was deceived Of love, and from his pourpos weyved; 1950 And thoghtest that his destourbance Thin oghne cause scholde avance, As who saith, "I am so celee, Ther mai no mannes privete Be heled half so wel as myn." Art thou, mi Sone, of such engin? Tell on. Mi goode fader, nay As for the more part I say; Bot of somdiel I am beknowe, That I mai stonde in thilke rowe 1960 Amonges hem that Saundres use. I wol me noght therof excuse, That I with such colour ne steyne, Whan I my beste Semblant feigne To my felawh, til that I wot Al his conseil bothe cold and hot: For be that cause I make him chiere, Til I his love knowe and hiere; And if so be myn herte soucheth That oght unto my ladi toucheth 1970 Of love that he wol me telle, Anon I renne unto the welle And caste water in the fyr, So that his carte amidd the Myr, Be that I have his conseil knowe, Fulofte sithe I overthrowe, Whan that he weneth best to stonde. Bot this I do you understonde, If that a man love elles where, So that my ladi be noght there, 1980 And he me telle, I wole it hide, Ther schal no word ascape aside, For with deceipte of no semblant To him breke I no covenant; Me liketh noght in other place To lette noman of his grace, Ne forto ben inquisitif To knowe an other mannes lif: Wher that he love or love noght, That toucheth nothing to my thoght, 1990 Bot al it passeth thurgh myn Ere Riht as a thing that nevere were, And is foryete and leid beside. Bot if it touche on eny side Mi ladi, as I have er spoken, Myn Eres ben noght thanne loken; For certes, whanne that betitt, My will, myn herte and al my witt Ben fully set to herkne and spire What eny man wol speke of hire. 2000 Thus have I feigned compaignie Fulofte, for I wolde aspie What thing it is that eny man Telle of mi worthi lady can: And for tuo causes I do this, The ferste cause wherof is,- If that I myhte ofherkne and seke That eny man of hire mispeke, I wolde excuse hire so fully, That whan sche wist in inderly, 2010 Min hope scholde be the more To have hir thank for everemore. That other cause, I you assure, Is, why that I be coverture Have feigned semblant ofte time To hem that passen alday byme And ben lovers als wel as I, For this I weene trewely, That ther is of hem alle non, That thei ne loven everich on 2020 Mi ladi: for sothliche I lieve And durste setten it in prieve, Is non so wys that scholde asterte, Bot he were lustles in his herte, Forwhy and he my ladi sihe, Hir visage and hir goodlych yhe, Bot he hire lovede, er he wente. And for that such is myn entente, That is the cause of myn aspie, Why that I feigne compaignie 2030 And make felawe overal; For gladly wolde I knowen al And holde me covert alway, That I fulofte ye or nay Ne liste ansuere in eny wise, Bot feigne semblant as the wise And herkne tales, til I knowe Mi ladi lovers al arowe. And whanne I hiere how thei have wroght, I fare as thogh I herde it noght 2040 And as I no word understode; Bot that is nothing for here goode: For lieveth wel, the sothe is this, That whanne I knowe al how it is, I wol bot forthren hem a lite, Bot al the worste I can endite I telle it to my ladi plat In forthringe of myn oghne astat, And hindre hem al that evere I may. Bot for al that yit dar I say, 2050 I finde unto miself no bote, Althogh myn herte nedes mote Thurgh strengthe of love al that I hiere Discovere unto my ladi diere: For in good feith I have no miht To hele fro that swete wiht, If that it touche hire eny thing. Bot this wot wel the hevene king, That sithen ferst this world began, Unto non other strange man 2060 Ne feigned I semblant ne chiere, To wite or axe of his matiere, Thogh that he lovede ten or tuelve, Whanne it was noght my ladi selve: Bot if he wolde axe eny red Al onlich of his oghne hed, How he with other love ferde, His tales with myn Ere I herde, Bot to myn herte cam it noght Ne sank no deppere in my thoght, 2070 Bot hield conseil, as I was bede, And tolde it nevere in other stede, Bot let it passen as it com. Now, fader, say what is thi dom, And hou thou wolt that I be peined For such Semblant as I have feigned. Mi Sone, if reson be wel peised, Ther mai no vertu ben unpreised Ne vice non be set in pris. Forthi, my Sone, if thou be wys, 2080 Do no viser upon thi face, Which as wol noght thin herte embrace: For if thou do, withinne a throwe To othre men it schal be knowe, So miht thou lihtli falle in blame And lese a gret part of thi name. And natheles in this degree Fulofte time thou myht se Of suche men that now aday This vice setten in a say: 2090 I speke it for no mannes blame, Bot forto warne thee the same. Mi Sone, as I mai hiere talke In every place where I walke, I not if it be so or non, Bot it is manye daies gon That I ferst herde telle this, How Falssemblant hath ben and is Most comunly fro yer to yere With hem that duelle among ous here, 2100 Of suche as we Lombardes calle. For thei ben the slyeste of alle, So as men sein in toune aboute, To feigne and schewe thing withoute Which is revers to that withinne: Wherof that thei fulofte winne, Whan thei be reson scholden lese; Thei ben the laste and yit thei chese, And we the ferste, and yit behinde We gon, there as we scholden finde 2110 The profit of oure oghne lond: Thus gon thei fre withoute bond To don her profit al at large, And othre men bere al the charge. Of Lombardz unto this covine, Whiche alle londes conne engine, Mai Falssemblant in special Be likned, for thei overal, Wher as they thenken forto duelle, Among hemself, so as thei telle, 2120 Ferst ben enformed forto lere A craft which cleped is Fa crere: For if Fa crere come aboute, Thanne afterward hem stant no doute To voide with a soubtil hond The beste goodes of the lond And bringe chaf and take corn. Where as Fa crere goth toforn, In all his weie he fynt no lette; That Dore can non huissher schette 2130 In which him list to take entre: And thus the conseil most secre Of every thing Fa crere knoweth, Which into strange place he bloweth, Where as he wot it mai most grieve. And thus Fa crere makth believe, So that fulofte he hath deceived, Er that he mai ben aperceived. Thus is this vice forto drede; For who these olde bokes rede 2140 Of suche ensamples as were ar, Him oghte be the more war Of alle tho that feigne chiere, Wherof thou schalt a tale hiere. Of Falssemblant which is believed Ful many a worthi wiht is grieved, And was long time er we wer bore. To thee, my Sone, I wol therfore A tale telle of Falssemblant, Which falseth many a covenant, 2150 And many a fraude of fals conseil Ther ben hangende upon his Seil: And that aboghten gulteles Bothe Deianire and Hercules, The whiche in gret desese felle Thurgh Falssemblant, as I schal telle. Whan Hercules withinne a throwe Al only hath his herte throwe Upon this faire Deianire, It fell him on a dai desire, 2160 Upon a Rivere as he stod, That passe he wolde over the flod Withoute bot, and with him lede His love, bot he was in drede For tendresce of that swete wiht, For he knew noght the forde ariht. Ther was a Geant thanne nyh, Which Nessus hihte, and whanne he sih This Hercules and Deianyre, Withinne his herte he gan conspire, 2170 As he which thurgh his tricherie Hath Hercules in gret envie, Which he bar in his herte loke, And thanne he thoghte it schal be wroke. Bot he ne dorste natheles Ayein this worthi Hercules Falle in debat as forto feihte; Bot feigneth Semblant al be sleihte Of frendschipe and of alle goode, And comth where as thei bothe stode, 2180 And makth hem al the chiere he can, And seith that as here oghne man He is al redy forto do What thing he mai; and it fell so That thei upon his Semblant triste, And axen him if that he wiste What thing hem were best to done, So that thei mihten sauf and sone The water passe, he and sche. And whan Nessus the privete 2190 Knew of here herte what it mente, As he that was of double entente, He made hem riht a glad visage; And whanne he herde of the passage Of him and hire, he thoghte guile, And feigneth Semblant for a while To don hem plesance and servise, Bot he thoghte al an other wise. This Nessus with hise wordes slyhe Yaf such conseil tofore here yhe 2200 Which semeth outward profitable And was withinne deceivable. He bad hem of the Stremes depe That thei be war and take kepe, So as thei knowe noght the pas; Bot forto helpe in such a cas, He seith himself that for here ese He wolde, if that it mihte hem plese, The passage of the water take, And for this ladi undertake 2210 To bere unto that other stronde And sauf to sette hire up alonde, And Hercules may thanne also The weie knowe how he schal go: And herto thei acorden alle. Bot what as after schal befalle, Wel payd was Hercules of this, And this Geant also glad is, And tok this ladi up alofte And set hire on his schuldre softe, 2220 And in the flod began to wade, As he which no grucchinge made, And bar hire over sauf and sound. Bot whanne he stod on dreie ground And Hercules was fer behinde, He sette his trowthe al out of mynde, Who so therof be lief or loth, With Deianyre and forth he goth, As he that thoghte to dissevere The compaignie of hem for evere. 2230 Whan Hercules therof tok hiede, Als faste as evere he mihte him spiede He hyeth after in a throwe; And hapneth that he hadde a bowe, The which in alle haste he bende, As he that wolde an Arwe sende, Which he tofore hadde envenimed. He hath so wel his schote timed, That he him thurgh the bodi smette, And thus the false wiht he lette. 2240 Bot lest now such a felonie: Whan Nessus wiste he scholde die, He tok to Deianyre his scherte, Which with the blod was of his herte Thurghout desteigned overal, And tolde how sche it kepe schal Al prively to this entente, That if hire lord his herte wente To love in eny other place, The scherte, he seith, hath such a grace, 2250 That if sche mai so mochel make That he the scherte upon him take, He schal alle othre lete in vein And torne unto hire love ayein. Who was tho glad bot Deianyre? Hire thoghte hire herte was afyre Til it was in hire cofre loke, So that no word therof was spoke. The daies gon, the yeres passe, The hertes waxen lasse and lasse 2260 Of hem that ben to love untrewe: This Hercules with herte newe His love hath set on Eolen, And therof spieken alle men. This Eolen, this faire maide, Was, as men thilke time saide, The kinges dowhter of Eurice; And sche made Hercules so nyce Upon hir Love and so assote, That he him clotheth in hire cote, 2270 And sche in his was clothed ofte; And thus fieblesce is set alofte, And strengthe was put under fote, Ther can noman therof do bote. Whan Deianyre hath herd this speche, Ther was no sorwe forto seche: Of other helpe wot sche non, Bot goth unto hire cofre anon; With wepende yhe and woful herte Sche tok out thilke unhappi scherte, 2280 As sche that wende wel to do, And broghte hire werk aboute so That Hercules this scherte on dede, To such entente as she was bede Of Nessus, so as I seide er. Bot therof was sche noght the ner, As no fortune may be weyved; With Falssemblant sche was deceived, That whan sche wende best have wonne, Sche lost al that sche hath begonne. 2290 For thilke scherte unto the bon His body sette afyre anon, And cleveth so, it mai noght twinne, For the venym that was therinne. And he thanne as a wilde man Unto the hihe wode he ran, And as the Clerk Ovide telleth, The grete tres to grounde he felleth With strengthe al of his oghne myght, And made an huge fyr upriht, 2300 And lepte himself therinne at ones And brende him bothe fleissh and bones. Which thing cam al thurgh Falssemblant, That false Nessus the Geant Made unto him and to his wif; Wherof that he hath lost his lif, And sche sori for everemo. Forthi, my Sone, er thee be wo, I rede, be wel war therfore; For whan so gret a man was lore, 2310 It oghte yive a gret conceipte To warne alle othre of such deceipte. Grant mercy, fader, I am war So fer that I nomore dar Of Falssemblant take aqueintance; Bot rathere I wol do penance That I have feigned chiere er this. Now axeth forth, what so ther is Of that belongeth to my schrifte. Mi Sone, yit ther is the fifte 2320 Which is conceived of Envie, And cleped is Supplantarie, Thurgh whos compassement and guile Ful many a man hath lost his while In love als wel as otherwise, Hierafter as I schal devise. The vice of Supplantacioun With many a fals collacioun, Which he conspireth al unknowe, Full ofte time hath overthrowe 2330 The worschipe of an other man. So wel no lif awayte can Ayein his sleyhte forto caste, That he his pourpos ate laste Ne hath, er that it be withset. Bot most of alle his herte is set In court upon these grete Offices Of dignitees and benefices: Thus goth he with his sleyhte aboute To hindre and schowve an other oute 2340 And stonden with his slyh compas In stede there an other was; And so to sette himselven inne, He reccheth noght, be so he winne, Of that an other man schal lese, And thus fulofte chalk for chese He changeth with ful litel cost, Wherof an other hath the lost And he the profit schal receive. For his fortune is to deceive 2350 And forto change upon the whel His wo with othre mennes wel: Of that an other man avaleth, His oghne astat thus up he haleth, And takth the bridd to his beyete, Wher othre men the buisshes bete. Mi Sone, and in the same wise Ther ben lovers of such emprise, That schapen hem to be relieved Where it is wrong to ben achieved: 2360 For it is other mannes riht, Which he hath taken dai and niht To kepe for his oghne Stor Toward himself for everemor, And is his propre be the lawe, Which thing that axeth no felawe, If love holde his covenant. Bot thei that worchen be supplaunt, Yit wolden thei a man supplaunte, And take a part of thilke plaunte 2370 Which he hath for himselve set: And so fulofte is al unknet, That som man weneth be riht fast. For Supplant with his slyhe cast Fulofte happneth forto mowe Thing which an other man hath sowe, And makth comun of proprete With sleihte and with soubtilite, As men mai se fro yer to yere. Thus cleymeth he the bot to stiere, 2380 Of which an other maister is. Forthi, my Sone, if thou er this Hast ben of such professioun, Discovere thi confessioun: Hast thou supplanted eny man? For oght that I you telle can, Min holi fader, as of the dede I am withouten eny drede Al gulteles; bot of my thoght Mi conscience excuse I noght. 2390 For were it wrong or were it riht, Me lakketh nothing bote myht, That I ne wolde longe er this Of other mannes love ywiss Be weie of Supplantacioun Have mad apropriacioun And holde that I nevere boghte, Thogh it an other man forthoghte. And al this speke I bot of on, For whom I lete alle othre gon; 2400 Bot hire I mai noght overpasse, That I ne mot alwey compasse, Me roghte noght be what queintise, So that I mihte in eny wise Fro suche that mi ladi serve Hire herte make forto swerve Withouten eny part of love. For be the goddes alle above I wolde it mihte so befalle, That I al one scholde hem alle 2410 Supplante, and welde hire at mi wille. And that thing mai I noght fulfille, Bot if I scholde strengthe make; And that I dar noght undertake, Thogh I were as was Alisaundre, For therof mihte arise sklaundre; And certes that schal I do nevere, For in good feith yit hadde I levere In my simplesce forto die, Than worche such Supplantarie. 2420 Of otherwise I wol noght seie That if I founde a seker weie, I wolde as for conclusioun Worche after Supplantacioun, So hihe a love forto winne. Now, fader, if that this be Sinne, I am al redy to redresce The gilt of which I me confesse. Mi goode Sone, as of Supplant Thee thar noght drede tant ne quant, 2430 As for nothing that I have herd, Bot only that thou hast misferd Thenkende, and that me liketh noght, For godd beholt a mannes thoght. And if thou understode in soth In loves cause what it doth, A man to ben a Supplantour, Thou woldest for thin oghne honour Be double weie take kepe: Ferst for thin oghne astat to kepe, 2440 To be thiself so wel bethoght That thou supplanted were noght, And ek for worschipe of thi name Towardes othre do the same, And soffren every man have his. Bot natheles it was and is, That in a wayt at alle assaies Supplant of love in oure daies The lief fulofte for the levere Forsakth, and so it hath don evere. 2450 Ensample I finde therupon, At Troie how that Agamenon Supplantede the worthi knyht Achilles of that swete wiht, Which named was Brexei5da; And also of Crisei5da, Whom Troilus to love ches, Supplanted hath Diomedes. Of Geta and Amphitrion, That whilom weren bothe as on 2460 Of frendschipe and of compaignie, I rede how that Supplantarie In love, as it betidde tho, Beguiled hath on of hem tuo. For this Geta that I of meene, To whom the lusti faire Almeene Assured was be weie of love, Whan he best wende have ben above And sikerest of that he hadde, Cupido so the cause ladde, 2470 That whil he was out of the weie, Amphitrion hire love aweie Hath take, and in this forme he wroghte. Be nyhte unto the chambre he soghte, Wher that sche lay, and with a wyle He contrefeteth for the whyle The vois of Gete in such a wise, That made hire of hire bedd arise, Wenende that it were he, And let him in, and whan thei be 2480 Togedre abedde in armes faste, This Geta cam thanne ate laste Unto the Dore and seide, "Undo." And sche ansuerde and bad him go, And seide how that abedde al warm Hir lief lay naked in hir arm; Sche wende that it were soth. Lo, what Supplant of love doth: This Geta forth bejaped wente, And yit ne wiste he what it mente; 2490 Amphitrion him hath supplanted With sleyhte of love and hire enchaunted: And thus put every man out other, The Schip of love hath lost his Rother, So that he can no reson stiere. And forto speke of this matiere Touchende love and his Supplant, A tale which is acordant Unto thin Ere I thenke enforme. Now herkne, for this is the forme. 2500 Of thilke Cite chief of alle Which men the noble Rome calle, Er it was set to Cristes feith, Ther was, as the Cronique seith, An Emperour, the which it ladde In pes, that he no werres hadde: Ther was nothing desobeissant Which was to Rome appourtenant, Bot al was torned into reste. To some it thoghte for the beste, 2510 To some it thoghte nothing so, And that was only unto tho Whos herte stod upon knyhthode: Bot most of alle of his manhode The worthi Sone of themperour, Which wolde ben a werreiour, As he that was chivalerous Of worldes fame and desirous, Began his fadre to beseche That he the werres mihte seche, 2520 In strange Marches forto ride. His fader seide he scholde abide, And wolde granten him no leve: Bot he, which wolde noght beleve, A kniht of his to whom he triste, So that his fader nothing wiste, He tok and tolde him his corage, That he pourposeth a viage. If that fortune with him stonde, He seide how that he wolde fonde 2530 The grete See to passe unknowe, And there abyde for a throwe Upon the werres to travaile. And to this point withoute faile This kniht, whan he hath herd his lord, Is swore, and stant of his acord, As thei that bothe yonge were; So that in prive conseil there Thei ben assented forto wende. And therupon to make an ende, 2540 Tresor ynowh with hem thei token, And whan the time is best thei loken, That sodeinliche in a Galeie Fro Romelond thei wente here weie And londe upon that other side. The world fell so that ilke tide, Which evere hise happes hath diverse, The grete Soldan thanne of Perse Ayein the Caliphe of Egipte A werre, which that him beclipte, 2550 Hath in a Marche costeiant. And he, which was a poursuiant Worschipe of armes to atteigne, This Romein, let anon ordeigne, That he was redi everydel: And whan he was arraied wel Of every thing which him belongeth, Straght unto Kaire his weie he fongeth, Wher he the Soldan thanne fond, And axeth that withinne his lond 2560 He mihte him for the werre serve, As he which wolde his thonk deserve. The Soldan was riht glad with al, And wel the more in special Whan that he wiste he was Romein; Bot what was elles in certein, That mihte he wite be no weie. And thus the kniht of whom I seie Toward the Soldan is beleft, And in the Marches now and eft, 2570 Wher that the dedli werres were, He wroghte such knihthode there, That every man spak of him good. And thilke time so it stod, This mihti Soldan be his wif A Dowhter hath, that in this lif Men seiden ther was non so fair. Sche scholde ben hir fader hair, And was of yeres ripe ynowh: Hire beaute many an herte drowh 2580 To bowe unto that ilke lawe Fro which no lif mai be withdrawe, And that is love, whos nature Set lif and deth in aventure Of hem that knyhthode undertake. This lusti peine hath overtake The herte of this Romein so sore, That to knihthode more and more Prouesce avanceth his corage. Lich to the Leoun in his rage, 2590 Fro whom that alle bestes fle, Such was the knyht in his degre: Wher he was armed in the feld, Ther dorste non abide his scheld; Gret pris upon the werre he hadde. Bot sche which al the chance ladde, Fortune, schop the Marches so, That be thassent of bothe tuo, The Soldan and the Caliphe eke, Bataille upon a dai thei seke, 2600 Which was in such a wise set That lengere scholde it noght be let. Thei made hem stronge on every side, And whan it drowh toward the tide That the bataille scholde be, The Soldan in gret privete A goldring of his dowhter tok, And made hire swere upon a bok And ek upon the goddes alle, That if fortune so befalle 2610 In the bataille that he deie, That sche schal thilke man obeie And take him to hire housebonde, Which thilke same Ring to honde Hire scholde bringe after his deth. This hath sche swore, and forth he geth With al the pouer of his lond Unto the Marche, where he fond His enemy full embatailled. The Soldan hath the feld assailed: 2620 Thei that ben hardy sone assemblen, Wherof the dredfull hertes tremblen: That on sleth, and that other sterveth, Bot above all his pris deserveth This knihtly Romein; where he rod, His dedly swerd noman abod, Ayein the which was no defence; Egipte fledde in his presence, And thei of Perse upon the chace Poursuien: bot I not what grace 2630 Befell, an Arwe out of a bowe Al sodeinly that ilke throwe The Soldan smot, and ther he lay: The chace is left for thilke day, And he was bore into a tente. The Soldan sih how that it wente, And that he scholde algate die; And to this knyht of Romanie, As unto him whom he most triste, His Dowhter Ring, that non it wiste, 2640 He tok, and tolde him al the cas, Upon hire oth what tokne it was Of that sche scholde ben his wif. Whan this was seid, the hertes lif Of this Soldan departeth sone; And therupon, as was to done, The dede body wel and faire Thei carie til thei come at Kaire, Wher he was worthily begrave. The lordes, whiche as wolden save 2650 The Regne which was desolat, To bringe it into good astat A parlement thei sette anon. Now herkne what fell therupon: This yonge lord, this worthi kniht Of Rome, upon the same niht That thei amorwe trete scholde, Unto his Bacheler he tolde His conseil, and the Ring with al He scheweth, thurgh which that he schal, 2660 He seith, the kinges Dowhter wedde, For so the Ring was leid to wedde, He tolde, into hir fader hond, That with what man that sche it fond Sche scholde him take to hire lord. And this, he seith, stant of record, Bot noman wot who hath this Ring. This Bacheler upon this thing His Ere and his entente leide, And thoghte more thanne he seide, 2670 And feigneth with a fals visage That he was glad, bot his corage Was al set in an other wise. These olde Philosophres wise Thei writen upon thilke while, That he mai best a man beguile In whom the man hath most credence; And this befell in evidence Toward this yonge lord of Rome. His Bacheler, which hadde tome, 2680 Whan that his lord be nihte slepte, This Ring, the which his maister kepte, Out of his Pours awey he dede, And putte an other in the stede. Amorwe, whan the Court is set, The yonge ladi was forth fet, To whom the lordes don homage, And after that of Mariage Thei trete and axen of hir wille. Bot sche, which thoghte to fulfille 2690 Hire fader heste in this matiere, Seide openly, that men mai hiere, The charge which hire fader bad. Tho was this Lord of Rome glad And drowh toward his Pours anon, Bot al for noght, it was agon: His Bacheler it hath forthdrawe, And axeth ther upon the lawe That sche him holde covenant. The tokne was so sufficant 2700 That it ne mihte be forsake, And natheles his lord hath take Querelle ayein his oghne man; Bot for nothing that evere he can He mihte as thanne noght ben herd, So that his cleym is unansuerd, And he hath of his pourpos failed. This Bacheler was tho consailed And wedded, and of thilke Empire He was coroned Lord and Sire, 2710 And al the lond him hath received; Wherof his lord, which was deceived, A seknesse er the thridde morwe Conceived hath of dedly sorwe: And as he lay upon his deth, Therwhile him lasteth speche and breth, He sende for the worthieste Of al the lond and ek the beste, And tolde hem al the sothe tho, That he was Sone and Heir also 2720 Of themperour of grete Rome, And how that thei togedre come, This kniht and he; riht as it was, He tolde hem al the pleine cas, And for that he his conseil tolde, That other hath al that he wolde, And he hath failed of his mede: As for the good he takth non hiede, He seith, bot only of the love, Of which he wende have ben above. 2730 And therupon be lettre write He doth his fader forto wite Of al this matiere as it stod; And thanne with an hertly mod Unto the lordes he besoghte To telle his ladi how he boghte Hire love, of which an other gladeth; And with that word his hewe fadeth, And seide, "A dieu, my ladi swete." The lif hath lost his kindly hete, 2740 And he lay ded as eny ston; Wherof was sory manyon, Bot non of alle so as sche. This false knyht in his degree Arested was and put in hold: For openly whan it was told Of the tresoun which is befalle, Thurghout the lond thei seiden alle, If it be soth that men suppose, His oghne untrowthe him schal depose. 2750 And forto seche an evidence, With honour and gret reverence, Wherof they mihten knowe an ende, To themperour anon thei sende The lettre which his Sone wrot. And whan that he the sothe wot, To telle his sorwe is endeles, Bot yit in haste natheles Upon the tale which he herde His Stieward into Perse ferde 2760 With many a worthi Romein eke, His liege tretour forto seke; And whan thei thider come were, This kniht him hath confessed there How falsly that he hath him bore, Wherof his worthi lord was lore. Tho seiden some he scholde deie, Bot yit thei founden such a weie That he schal noght be ded in Perse; And thus the skiles ben diverse. 2770 Be cause that he was coroned, And that the lond was abandoned To him, althogh it were unriht, Ther is no peine for him diht; Bot to this point and to this ende Thei granten wel that he schal wende With the Romeins to Rome ayein. And thus acorded ful and plein, The qwike body with the dede With leve take forth thei lede, 2780 Wher that Supplant hath his juise. Wherof that thou thee miht avise Upon this enformacioun Touchende of Supplantacioun, That thou, my Sone, do noght so: And forto take hiede also What Supplant doth in other halve, Ther is noman can finde a salve Pleinly to helen such a Sor; It hath and schal ben everemor, 2790 Whan Pride is with Envie joint, He soffreth noman in good point, Wher that he mai his honour lette. And therupon if I schal sette Ensample, in holy cherche I finde How that Supplant is noght behinde; God wot if that it now be so: For in Cronique of time ago I finde a tale concordable Of Supplant, which that is no fable, 2800 In the manere as I schal telle, So as whilom the thinges felle. At Rome, as it hath ofte falle, The vicair general of alle Of hem that lieven Cristes feith His laste day, which non withseith, Hath schet as to the worldes ije, Whos name if I schal specefie, He hihte Pope Nicolas. And thus whan that he passed was, 2810 The Cardinals, that wolden save The forme of lawe, in the conclave Gon forto chese a newe Pope, And after that thei cowthe agrope Hath ech of hem seid his entente: Til ate laste thei assente Upon an holy clerk reclus, Which full was of gostli vertus; His pacience and his simplesse Hath set him into hih noblesse. 2820 Thus was he Pope canonized, With gret honour and intronized, And upon chance as it is falle, His name Celestin men calle; Which notefied was be bulle To holi cherche and to the fulle In alle londes magnified. Bot every worschipe is envied, And that was thilke time sene: For whan this Pope of whom I meene 2830 Was chose, and othre set beside, A Cardinal was thilke tide Which the papat longe hath desired And therupon gretli conspired; Bot whan he sih fortune is failed, For which long time he hath travailed, That ilke fyr which Ethna brenneth Thurghout his wofull herte renneth, Which is resembled to Envie, Wherof Supplant and tricherie 2840 Engendred is; and natheles He feigneth love, he feigneth pes, Outward he doth the reverence, Bot al withinne his conscience Thurgh fals ymaginacioun He thoghte Supplantacioun. And therupon a wonder wyle He wroghte: for at thilke whyle It fell so that of his lignage He hadde a clergoun of yong age, 2850 Whom he hath in his chambre affaited. This Cardinal his time hath waited, And with his wordes slyhe and queinte, The whiche he cowthe wysly peinte, He schop this clerk of which I telle Toward the Pope forto duelle, So that withinne his chambre anyht He lai, and was a prive wyht Toward the Pope on nyhtes tide. Mai noman fle that schal betide. 2860 This Cardinal, which thoghte guile, Upon a day whan he hath while This yonge clerc unto him tok, And made him swere upon a bok, And told him what his wille was. And forth withal a Trompe of bras He hath him take, and bad him this: "Thou schalt," he seide, "whan time is Awaite, and take riht good kepe, Whan that the Pope is fast aslepe 2870 And that non other man by nyh; And thanne that thou be so slyh Thurghout the Trompe into his Ere, Fro hevene as thogh a vois it were, To soune of such prolacioun That he his meditacioun Therof mai take and understonde, As thogh it were of goddes sonde. And in this wise thou schalt seie, That he do thilke astat aweie 2880 Of Pope, in which he stant honoured, So schal his Soule be socoured Of thilke worschipe ate laste In hevene which schal evere laste." This clerc, whan he hath herd the forme How he the Pope scholde enforme, Tok of the Cardinal his leve, And goth him hom, til it was Eve, And prively the trompe he hedde, Til that the Pope was abedde. 2890 And at the Midnyht, whan he knewh The Pope slepte, thanne he blewh Withinne his trompe thurgh the wal, And tolde in what manere he schal His Papacie leve, and take His ferste astat: and thus awake This holi Pope he made thries, Wherof diverse fantasies Upon his grete holinesse Withinne his herte he gan impresse. 2900 The Pope ful of innocence Conceiveth in his conscience That it is goddes wille he cesse; Bot in what wise he may relesse His hihe astat, that wot he noght. And thus withinne himself bethoght, He bar it stille in his memoire, Til he cam to the Consistoire; And there in presence of hem alle He axeth, if it so befalle 2910 That eny Pope cesse wolde, How that the lawe it soffre scholde. Thei seten alle stille and herde, Was non which to the point ansuerde, For to what pourpos that it mente Ther was noman knew his entente, Bot only he which schop the guile. This Cardinal the same while Al openly with wordes pleine Seith, if the Pope wolde ordeigne 2920 That ther be such a lawe wroght, Than mihte he cesse, and elles noght. And as he seide, don it was; The Pope anon upon the cas Of his Papal Autorite Hath mad and yove the decre: And whan that lawe was confermed In due forme and al affermed, This innocent, which was deceived, His Papacie anon hath weyved, 2930 Renounced and resigned eke. That other was nothing to seke, Bot undernethe such a jape He hath so for himselve schape, That how as evere it him beseme, The Mitre with the Diademe He hath thurgh Supplantacion: And in his confirmacion Upon the fortune of his grace His name is cleped Boneface. 2940 Under the viser of Envie, Lo, thus was hid the tricherie, Which hath beguiled manyon. Bot such conseil ther mai be non, With treson whan it is conspired, That it nys lich the Sparke fyred Up in the Rof, which for a throwe Lith hidd, til whan the wyndes blowe It blaseth out on every side. This Bonefas, which can noght hyde 2950 The tricherie of his Supplant, Hath openly mad his avant How he the Papacie hath wonne. Bot thing which is with wrong begonne Mai nevere stonde wel at ende; Wher Pride schal the bowe bende, He schet fulofte out of the weie: And thus the Pope of whom I seie, Whan that he stod on hih the whiel, He can noght soffre himself be wel. 2960 Envie, which is loveles, And Pride, which is laweles, With such tempeste made him erre, That charite goth out of herre: So that upon misgovernance Ayein Lowyz the king of France He tok querelle of his oultrage, And seide he scholde don hommage Unto the cherche bodily. Bot he, that wiste nothing why 2970 He scholde do so gret servise After the world in such a wise, Withstod the wrong of that demande; For noght the Pope mai comande The king wol noght the Pope obeie. This Pope tho be alle weie That he mai worche of violence Hath sent the bulle of his sentence With cursinge and with enterdit. The king upon this wrongful plyt, 2980 To kepe his regne fro servage, Conseiled was of his Barnage That miht with miht schal be withstonde. Thus was the cause take on honde, And seiden that the Papacie Thei wolde honoure and magnefie In al that evere is spirital; Bot thilke Pride temporal Of Boneface in his persone, Ayein that ilke wrong al one 2990 Thei wolde stonden in debat: And thus the man and noght the stat The Frensche schopen be her miht To grieve. And fell ther was a kniht, Sire Guilliam de Langharet, Which was upon this cause set; And therupon he tok a route Of men of Armes and rod oute, So longe and in a wayt he lay, That he aspide upon a day 3000 The Pope was at Avinoun, And scholde ryde out of the toun Unto Pontsorge, the which is A Castell in Provence of his. Upon the weie and as he rod, This kniht, which hoved and abod Embuisshed upon horse bak, Al sodeinliche upon him brak And hath him be the bridel sesed, And seide: "O thou, which hast desesed 3010 The Court of France be thi wrong, Now schalt thou singe an other song: Thin enterdit and thi sentence Ayein thin oghne conscience Hierafter thou schalt fiele and grope. We pleigne noght ayein the Pope, For thilke name is honourable, Bot thou, which hast be deceivable And tricherous in al thi werk, Thou Bonefas, thou proude clerk, 3020 Misledere of the Papacie, Thi false bodi schal abye And soffre that it hath deserved." Lo, thus the Supplantour was served; For thei him ladden into France And setten him to his penance Withinne a tour in harde bondes, Wher he for hunger bothe hise hondes Eet of and deide, god wot how: Of whom the wrytinge is yit now 3030 Registred, as a man mai hiere, Which spekth and seith in this manere: Thin entre lich the fox was slyh, Thi regne also with pride on hih Was lich the Leon in his rage; Bot ate laste of thi passage Thi deth was to the houndes like. Such is the lettre of his Cronique Proclamed in the Court of Rome, Wherof the wise ensample nome. 3040 And yit, als ferforth as I dar, I rede alle othre men be war, And that thei loke wel algate That non his oghne astat translate Of holi cherche in no degree Be fraude ne soubtilite: For thilke honour which Aaron tok Schal non receive, as seith the bok, Bot he be cleped as he was. What I schal thenken in this cas 3050 Of that I hiere now aday, I not: bot he which can and may, Be reson bothe and be nature The help of every mannes cure, He kepe Simon fro the folde. For Joachim thilke Abbot tolde How suche daies scholden falle, That comunliche in places alle The Chapmen of such mercerie With fraude and with Supplantarie 3060 So manye scholden beie and selle, That he ne may for schame telle So foul a Senne in mannes Ere. Bot god forbiede that it were In oure daies that he seith: For if the Clerc beware his feith In chapmanhod at such a feire, The remenant mot nede empeire Of al that to the world belongeth; For whan that holi cherche wrongeth, 3070 I not what other thing schal rihte. And natheles at mannes sihte Envie forto be preferred Hath conscience so differred, That noman loketh to the vice Which is the Moder of malice, And that is thilke false Envie, Which causeth many a tricherie; For wher he may an other se That is mor gracious than he, 3080 It schal noght stonden in his miht Bot if he hindre such a wiht: And that is welnyh overal, This vice is now so general. Envie thilke unhapp indrowh, Whan Joab be deceipte slowh Abner, for drede he scholde be With king David such as was he. And thurgh Envie also it fell Of thilke false Achitofell, 3090 For his conseil was noght achieved, Bot that he sih Cusy believed With Absolon and him forsake, He heng himself upon a stake. Senec witnesseth openly How that Envie proprely Is of the Court the comun wenche, And halt taverne forto schenche That drink which makth the herte brenne, And doth the wit aboute renne, 3100 Be every weie to compasse How that he mihte alle othre passe, As he which thurgh unkindeschipe Envieth every felaschipe; So that thou miht wel knowe and se, Ther is no vice such as he, Ferst toward godd abhominable, And to mankinde unprofitable: And that be wordes bot a fewe I schal be reson prove and schewe. 3110 Envie if that I schal descrive, He is noght schaply forto wyve In Erthe among the wommen hiere; For ther is in him no matiere Wherof he mihte do plesance. Ferst for his hevy continance Of that he semeth evere unglad, He is noght able to ben had; And ek he brenneth so withinne, That kinde mai no profit winne, 3120 Wherof he scholde his love plese: For thilke blod which scholde have ese To regne among the moiste veines, Is drye of thilke unkendeli peines Thurgh whiche Envie is fyred ay. And thus be reson prove I may That toward love Envie is noght; And otherwise if it be soght, Upon what side as evere it falle, It is the werste vice of alle, 3130 Which of himself hath most malice. For understond that every vice Som cause hath, wherof it groweth, Bot of Envie noman knoweth Fro whenne he cam bot out of helle. For thus the wise clerkes telle, That no spirit bot of malice Be weie of kinde upon a vice Is tempted, and be such a weie Envie hath kinde put aweie 3140 And of malice hath his steringe, Wherof he makth his bakbitinge, And is himself therof desesed. So mai ther be no kinde plesed; For ay the mor that he envieth, The more ayein himself he plieth. Thus stant Envie in good espeir To ben himself the develes heir, As he which is his nexte liche And forthest fro the heveneriche, 3150 For there mai he nevere wone. Forthi, my goode diere Sone, If thou wolt finde a siker weie To love, put Envie aweie. Min holy fader, reson wolde That I this vice eschuie scholde: Bot yit to strengthe mi corage, If that ye wolde in avantage Therof sette a recoverir, It were tome a gret desir, 3160 That I this vice mihte flee. Nou understond, my Sone, and se, Ther is phisique for the seke, And vertus for the vices eke. Who that the vices wolde eschuie, He mot be resoun thanne suie The vertus; for be thilke weie He mai the vices don aweie, For thei togedre mai noght duelle: For as the water of a welle 3170 Of fyr abateth the malice, Riht so vertu fordoth the vice. Ayein Envie is Charite, Which is the Moder of Pite, That makth a mannes herte tendre, That it mai no malice engendre In him that is enclin therto. For his corage is tempred so, That thogh he mihte himself relieve, Yit wolde he noght an other grieve, 3180 Bot rather forto do plesance He berth himselven the grevance, So fain he wolde an other ese. Wherof, mi Sone, for thin ese Now herkne a tale which I rede, And understond it wel, I rede. Among the bokes of latin I finde write of Constantin The worthi Emperour of Rome, Suche infortunes to him come, 3190 Whan he was in his lusti age, The lepre cawhte in his visage And so forth overal aboute, That he ne mihte ryden oute: So lefte he bothe Schield and spere, As he that mihte him noght bestere, And hield him in his chambre clos. Thurgh al the world the fame aros, The grete clerkes ben asent And come at his comandement 3200 To trete upon this lordes hele. So longe thei togedre dele, That thei upon this medicine Apointen hem, and determine That in the maner as it stod Thei wolde him bathe in childes blod Withinne sevene wynter age: For, as thei sein, that scholde assuage The lepre and al the violence, Which that thei knewe of Accidence 3210 And noght be weie of kinde is falle. And therto thei acorden alle As for final conclusioun, And tolden here opinioun To themperour: and he anon His conseil tok, and therupon With lettres and with seales oute Thei sende in every lond aboute The yonge children forto seche, Whos blod, thei seiden, schal be leche 3220 For themperoures maladie. Ther was ynowh to wepe and crie Among the Modres, whan thei herde Hou wofully this cause ferde, Bot natheles thei moten bowe; And thus wommen ther come ynowhe With children soukende on the Tete. Tho was ther manye teres lete, Bot were hem lieve or were hem lothe, The wommen and the children bothe 3230 Into the Paleis forth be broght With many a sory hertes thoght Of hem whiche of here bodi bore The children hadde, and so forlore Withinne a while scholden se. The Modres wepe in here degre, And manye of hem aswoune falle, The yonge babes criden alle: This noyse aros, the lord it herde, And loked out, and how it ferde 3240 He sih, and as who seith abreide Out of his slep, and thus he seide: "O thou divine pourveance, Which every man in the balance Of kinde hast formed to be liche, The povere is bore as is the riche And deieth in the same wise, Upon the fol, upon the wise Siknesse and hele entrecomune; Mai non eschuie that fortune 3250 Which kinde hath in hire lawe set; Hire strengthe and beaute ben beset To every man aliche fre, That sche preferreth no degre As in the disposicioun Of bodili complexioun: And ek of Soule resonable The povere child is bore als able To vertu as the kinges Sone; For every man his oghne wone 3260 After the lust of his assay The vice or vertu chese may. Thus stonden alle men franchised, Bot in astat thei ben divised; To some worschipe and richesse, To some poverte and distresse, On lordeth and an other serveth; Bot yit as every man deserveth The world yifth noght his yiftes hiere. Bot certes he hath gret matiere 3270 To ben of good condicioun, Which hath in his subjeccioun The men that ben of his semblance." And ek he tok a remembrance How he that made lawe of kinde Wolde every man to lawe binde, And bad a man, such as he wolde Toward himself, riht such he scholde Toward an other don also. And thus this worthi lord as tho 3280 Sette in balance his oghne astat And with himself stod in debat, And thoghte hou that it was noght good To se so mochel mannes blod Be spilt for cause of him alone. He sih also the grete mone, Of that the Modres were unglade, And of the wo the children made, Wherof that al his herte tendreth, And such pite withinne engendreth, 3290 That him was levere forto chese His oghne bodi forto lese, Than se so gret a moerdre wroght Upon the blod which gulteth noght. Thus for the pite which he tok Alle othre leches he forsok, And put him out of aventure Al only into goddes cure; And seith, "Who that woll maister be, He mot be servant to pite." 3300 So ferforth he was overcome With charite, that he hath nome His conseil and hise officers, And bad unto hise tresorers That thei his tresour al aboute Departe among the povere route Of wommen and of children bothe, Wherof thei mihte hem fede and clothe And saufli tornen hom ayein Withoute lost of eny grein. 3310 Thurgh charite thus he despendeth His good, wherof that he amendeth The povere poeple, and contrevaileth The harm, that he hem so travaileth: And thus the woful nyhtes sorwe To joie is torned on the morwe; Al was thonkinge, al was blessinge, Which erst was wepinge and cursinge; Thes wommen gon hom glade ynowh, Echon for joie on other lowh, 3320 And preiden for this lordes hele, Which hath relessed the querele, And hath his oghne will forsake In charite for goddes sake. Bot now hierafter thou schalt hiere What god hath wroght in this matiere, As he which doth al equite. To him that wroghte charite He was ayeinward charitous, And to pite he was pitous: 3330 For it was nevere knowe yit That charite goth unaquit. The nyht, whan he was leid to slepe, The hihe god, which wolde him kepe, Seint Peter and seint Poul him sende, Be whom he wolde his lepre amende. Thei tuo to him slepende appiere Fro god, and seide in this manere: "O Constantin, for thou hast served Pite, thou hast pite deserved: 3340 Forthi thou schalt such pite have That god thurgh pite woll thee save. So schalt thou double hele finde, Ferst for thi bodiliche kinde, And for thi wofull Soule also, Thou schalt ben hol of bothe tuo. And for thou schalt thee noght despeire, Thi lepre schal nomore empeire Til thou wolt sende therupon Unto the Mont of Celion, 3350 Wher that Silvestre and his clergie Togedre duelle in compaignie For drede of thee, which many day Hast ben a fo to Cristes lay, And hast destruid to mochel schame The prechours of his holy name. Bot now thou hast somdiel appesed Thi god, and with good dede plesed, That thou thi pite hast bewared Upon the blod which thou hast spared. 3360 Forthi to thi salvacion Thou schalt have enformacioun, Such as Silvestre schal the teche: The nedeth of non other leche." This Emperour, which al this herde, "Grant merci lordes," he ansuerde, "I wol do so as ye me seie. Bot of o thing I wolde preie: What schal I telle unto Silvestre Or of youre name or of youre estre?" 3370 And thei him tolden what thei hihte, And forth withal out of his sihte Thei passen up into the hevene. And he awok out of his swevene, And clepeth, and men come anon: He tolde his drem, and therupon In such a wise as he hem telleth The Mont wher that Silvestre duelleth Thei have in alle haste soght, And founde he was and with hem broght 3380 To themperour, which to him tolde His swevene and elles what he wolde. And whan Silvestre hath herd the king, He was riht joiful of this thing, And him began with al his wit To techen upon holi writ Ferst how mankinde was forlore, And how the hihe god therfore His Sone sende from above, Which bore was for mannes love, 3390 And after of his oghne chois He tok his deth upon the crois; And how in grave he was beloke, And how that he hath helle broke, And tok hem out that were him lieve; And forto make ous full believe That he was verrai goddes Sone, Ayein the kinde of mannes wone Fro dethe he ros the thridde day, And whanne he wolde, as he wel may, 3400 He styh up to his fader evene With fleissh and blod into the hevene; And riht so in the same forme In fleissh and blod he schal reforme, Whan time comth, the qwike and dede At thilke woful dai of drede, Where every man schal take his dom, Als wel the Maister as the grom. The mihti kinges retenue That dai may stonde of no value 3410 With worldes strengthe to defende; For every man mot thanne entende To stonde upon his oghne dedes And leve alle othre mennes nedes. That dai mai no consail availe, The pledour and the plee schal faile, The sentence of that ilke day Mai non appell sette in delay; Ther mai no gold the Jugge plie, That he ne schal the sothe trie 3420 And setten every man upriht, Als wel the plowman as the kniht: The lewed man, the grete clerk Schal stonde upon his oghne werk, And such as he is founde tho, Such schal he be for everemo. Ther mai no peine be relessed, Ther mai no joie ben encressed, Bot endeles, as thei have do, He schal receive on of the tuo. 3430 And thus Silvestre with his sawe The ground of al the newe lawe With gret devocion he precheth, Fro point to point and pleinly techeth Unto this hethen Emperour; And seith, the hihe creatour Hath underfonge his charite, Of that he wroghte such pite, Whan he the children hadde on honde. Thus whan this lord hath understonde 3440 Of al this thing how that it ferde, Unto Silvestre he thanne ansuerde, With al his hole herte and seith That he is redi to the feith. And so the vessel which for blod Was mad, Silvestre, ther it stod, With clene water of the welle In alle haste he let do felle, And sette Constantin therinne Al naked up unto the chinne. 3450 And in the while it was begunne, A liht, as thogh it were a Sunne, Fro hevene into the place com Wher that he tok his cristendom; And evere among the holi tales Lich as thei weren fisshes skales Ther fellen from him now and eft, Til that ther was nothing beleft Of al his grete maladie. For he that wolde him purefie, 3460 The hihe god hath mad him clene, So that ther lefte nothing sene; He hath him clensed bothe tuo, The bodi and the Soule also. Tho knew this Emperour in dede That Cristes feith was forto drede, And sende anon hise lettres oute And let do crien al aboute, Up peine of deth that noman weyve That he baptesme ne receive: 3470 After his Moder qweene Heleine He sende, and so betwen hem tweine Thei treten, that the Cite all Was cristned, and sche forth withall. This Emperour, which hele hath founde, Withinne Rome anon let founde Tuo cherches, which he dede make For Peter and for Poules sake, Of whom he hadde avisioun; And yaf therto possessioun 3480 Of lordschipe and of worldes good. Bot how so that his will was good Toward the Pope and his Franchise, Yit hath it proved other wise, To se the worchinge of the dede: For in Cronique this I rede; Anon as he hath mad the yifte, A vois was herd on hih the lifte, Of which al Rome was adrad, And seith: "To day is venym schad 3490 In holi cherche of temporal, Which medleth with the spirital." And hou it stant of that degree Yit mai a man the sothe se: God mai amende it, whan he wile, I can ther to non other skile. Bot forto go ther I began, How charite mai helpe a man To bothe worldes, I have seid: And if thou have an Ere leid, 3500 Mi Sone, thou miht understonde, If charite be take on honde, Ther folweth after mochel grace. Forthi, if that thou wolt pourchace How that thou miht Envie flee, Aqueinte thee with charite, Which is the vertu sovereine. Mi fader, I schal do my peine: For this ensample which ye tolde With al myn herte I have withholde, 3510 So that I schal for everemore Eschuie Envie wel the more: And that I have er this misdo, Yif me my penance er I go. And over that to mi matiere Of schrifte, why we sitten hiere In privete betwen ous tweie, Now axeth what ther is, I preie. Mi goode Sone, and for thi lore I woll thee telle what is more, 3520 So that thou schalt the vices knowe: For whan thei be to thee full knowe, Thou miht hem wel the betre eschuie. And for this cause I thenke suie The forme bothe and the matiere, As now suiende thou schalt hiere Which vice stant next after this: And whan thou wost how that it is, As thou schalt hiere me devise, Thow miht thiself the betre avise. 3530

Explicit Liber Secundus



Incipit Liber Tercius

Ira suis paribus est par furiis Acherontis, Quo furor ad tempus nil pietatis habet. Ira malencolicos animos perturbat, vt equo Iure sui pondus nulla statera tenet. Omnibus in causis grauat Ira, set inter amantes, Illa magis facili sorte grauamen agit: Est vbi vir discors leuiterque repugnat amori, Sepe loco ludi fletus ad ora venit.

If thou the vices lest to knowe, Mi Sone, it hath noght ben unknowe, Fro ferst that men the swerdes grounde, That ther nis on upon this grounde, A vice forein fro the lawe, Wherof that many a good felawe Hath be distraght be sodein chance; And yit to kinde no plesance It doth, bot wher he most achieveth His pourpos, most to kinde he grieveth, 10 As he which out of conscience Is enemy to pacience: And is be name on of the Sevene, Which ofte hath set this world unevene, And cleped is the cruel Ire, Whos herte is everemore on fyre To speke amis and to do bothe, For his servantz ben evere wrothe. Mi goode fader, tell me this: What thing is Ire? Sone, it is 20 That in oure englissh Wrathe is hote, Which hath hise wordes ay so hote, That all a mannes pacience Is fyred of the violence. For he with him hath evere fyve Servantz that helpen him to stryve: The ferst of hem Malencolie Is cleped, which in compaignie An hundred times in an houre Wol as an angri beste loure, 30 And noman wot the cause why. Mi Sone, schrif thee now forthi: Hast thou be Malencolien? Ye, fader, be seint Julien, Bot I untrewe wordes use, I mai me noght therof excuse: And al makth love, wel I wot, Of which myn herte is evere hot, So that I brenne as doth a glede For Wrathe that I mai noght spede. 40 And thus fulofte a day for noght Save onlich of myn oghne thoght I am so with miselven wroth, That how so that the game goth With othre men, I am noght glad; Bot I am wel the more unglad, For that is othre mennes game It torneth me to pure grame. Thus am I with miself oppressed Of thoght, the which I have impressed, 50 That al wakende I dreme and meete That I with hire al one meete And preie hire of som good ansuere: Bot for sche wol noght gladly swere, Sche seith me nay withouten oth; And thus wexe I withinne wroth, That outward I am al affraied, And so distempred and esmaied. A thousand times on a day Ther souneth in myn Eres nay, 60 The which sche seide me tofore: Thus be my wittes as forlore; And namely whan I beginne To rekne with miself withinne How many yeres ben agon, Siththe I have trewly loved on And nevere tok of other hede, And evere aliche fer to spede I am, the more I with hir dele, So that myn happ and al myn hele 70 Me thenkth is ay the leng the ferre, That bringth my gladschip out of herre, Wherof my wittes ben empeired, And I, as who seith, al despeired. For finaly, whan that I muse And thenke how sche me wol refuse, I am with anger so bestad, For al this world mihte I be glad: And for the while that it lasteth Al up so doun my joie it casteth, 80 And ay the furthere that I be, Whan I ne may my ladi se, The more I am redy to wraththe, That for the touchinge of a laththe Or for the torninge of a stree I wode as doth the wylde Se, And am so malencolious, That ther nys servant in myn hous Ne non of tho that ben aboute, That ech of hem ne stant in doute, 90 And wenen that I scholde rave For Anger that thei se me have; And so thei wondre more and lasse, Til that thei sen it overpasse. Bot, fader, if it so betide, That I aproche at eny tide The place wher my ladi is, And thanne that hire like ywiss To speke a goodli word untome, For al the gold that is in Rome 100 Ne cowthe I after that be wroth, Bot al myn Anger overgoth; So glad I am of the presence Of hire, that I all offence Foryete, as thogh it were noght, So overgladed is my thoght. And natheles, the soth to telle, Ayeinward if it so befelle That I at thilke time sihe On me that sche miscaste hire yhe, 110 Or that sche liste noght to loke, And I therof good hiede toke, Anon into my ferste astat I torne, and am with al so mat, That evere it is aliche wicke. And thus myn hand ayein the pricke I hurte and have do many day, And go so forth as I go may, Fulofte bitinge on my lippe, And make unto miself a whippe. 120 With which in many a chele and hete Mi wofull herte is so tobete, That all my wittes ben unsofte And I am wroth, I not how ofte; And al it is Malencolie, Which groweth of the fantasie Of love, that me wol noght loute: So bere I forth an angri snoute Ful manye times in a yer. Bot, fader, now ye sitten hier 130 In loves stede, I yow beseche, That som ensample ye me teche, Wherof I mai miself appese. Mi Sone, for thin hertes ese I schal fulfille thi preiere, So that thou miht the betre lere What mischief that this vice stereth, Which in his Anger noght forbereth, Wherof that after him forthenketh, Whan he is sobre and that he thenketh 140 Upon the folie of his dede; And of this point a tale I rede. Ther was a king which Eolus Was hote, and it befell him thus, That he tuo children hadde faire, The Sone cleped was Machaire, The dowhter ek Canace hihte. Be daie bothe and ek be nyhte, Whil thei be yonge, of comun wone In chambre thei togedre wone, 150 And as thei scholden pleide hem ofte, Til thei be growen up alofte Into the youthe of lusti age, Whan kinde assaileth the corage With love and doth him forto bowe, That he no reson can allowe, Bot halt the lawes of nature: For whom that love hath under cure, As he is blind himself, riht so He makth his client blind also. 160 In such manere as I you telle As thei al day togedre duelle, This brother mihte it noght asterte That he with al his hole herte His love upon his Soster caste: And so it fell hem ate laste, That this Machaire with Canace Whan thei were in a prive place, Cupide bad hem ferst to kesse, And after sche which is Maistresse 170 In kinde and techeth every lif Withoute lawe positif, Of which sche takth nomaner charge, Bot kepth hire lawes al at large, Nature, tok hem into lore And tawht hem so, that overmore Sche hath hem in such wise daunted, That thei were, as who seith, enchaunted. And as the blinde an other ledeth And til thei falle nothing dredeth, 180 Riht so thei hadde non insihte; Bot as the bridd which wole alihte And seth the mete and noght the net, Which in deceipte of him is set, This yonge folk no peril sihe, Bot that was likinge in here yhe, So that thei felle upon the chance Where witt hath lore his remembrance. So longe thei togedre assemble, The wombe aros, and sche gan tremble, 190 And hield hire in hire chambre clos For drede it scholde be disclos And come to hire fader Ere: Wherof the Sone hadde also fere, And feigneth cause forto ryde; For longe dorste he noght abyde, In aunter if men wolde sein That he his Soster hath forlein: For yit sche hadde it noght beknowe Whos was the child at thilke throwe. 200 Machaire goth, Canace abit, The which was noght delivered yit, Bot riht sone after that sche was. Now lest and herkne a woful cas. The sothe, which mai noght ben hid, Was ate laste knowe and kid Unto the king, how that it stod. And whan that he it understod, Anon into Malencolie, As thogh it were a frenesie, 210 He fell, as he which nothing cowthe How maistrefull love is in yowthe: And for he was to love strange, He wolde noght his herte change To be benigne and favorable To love, bot unmerciable Betwen the wawe of wod and wroth Into his dowhtres chambre he goth, And sih the child was late bore, Wherof he hath hise othes swore 220 That sche it schal ful sore abye. And sche began merci to crie, Upon hire bare knes and preide, And to hire fader thus sche seide: "Ha mercy! fader, thenk I am Thi child, and of thi blod I cam. That I misdede yowthe it made, And in the flodes bad me wade, Wher that I sih no peril tho: Bot now it is befalle so, 230 Merci, my fader, do no wreche!" And with that word sche loste speche And fell doun swounende at his fot, As sche for sorwe nedes mot. Bot his horrible crualte Ther mihte attempre no pite: Out of hire chambre forth he wente Al full of wraththe in his entente, And tok the conseil in his herte That sche schal noght the deth asterte, 240 As he which Malencolien Of pacience hath no lien, Wherof the wraththe he mai restreigne. And in this wilde wode peine, Whanne al his resoun was untame, A kniht he clepeth be his name, And tok him as be weie of sonde A naked swerd to bere on honde, And seide him that he scholde go And telle unto his dowhter so 250 In the manere as he him bad, How sche that scharpe swerdes blad Receive scholde and do withal So as sche wot wherto it schal. Forth in message goth this kniht Unto this wofull yonge wiht, This scharpe swerd to hire he tok: Wherof that al hire bodi qwok, For wel sche wiste what it mente, And that it was to thilke entente 260 That sche hireselven scholde slee. And to the kniht sche seide: "Yee, Now that I wot my fadres wille, That I schal in this wise spille, I wole obeie me therto, And as he wole it schal be do. Bot now this thing mai be non other, I wole a lettre unto mi brother, So as my fieble hand may wryte, With al my wofull herte endite." 270 Sche tok a Penne on honde tho, Fro point to point and al the wo, Als ferforth as hireself it wot, Unto hire dedly frend sche wrot, And tolde how that hire fader grace Sche mihte for nothing pourchace; And overthat, as thou schalt hiere, Sche wrot and seide in this manere: "O thou my sorwe and my gladnesse, O thou myn hele and my siknesse, 280 O my wanhope and al my trust, O my desese and al my lust, O thou my wele, o thou my wo, O thou my frend, o thou my fo, O thou my love, o thou myn hate, For thee mot I be ded algate. Thilke ende may I noght asterte, And yit with al myn hole herte, Whil that me lasteth eny breth, I wol the love into my deth. 290 Bot of o thing I schal thee preie, If that my litel Sone deie, Let him be beried in my grave Beside me, so schalt thou have Upon ous bothe remembrance. For thus it stant of my grevance; Now at this time, as thou schalt wite, With teres and with enke write This lettre I have in cares colde: