That yit towardes Wraththe stonde 1090
Of dedly vices othre tuo:
And forto telle here names so,
It is Contek and Homicide,
[Sidenote: Hic tractat Confessor super quarta et quinta
specie Ire, que impetuositas et homicidium dicuntur. Set
primo de impetuositate specialius tractare intendit, cuius
natura spiritum in naribus gestando ad omnes Ire mociones
in vindictam parata pacienciam nullatenus obseruat.]
That ben to drede on every side.[934]
Contek, so as the bokes sein,
Folhast hath to his Chamberlein,
Be whos conseil al unavised
Is Pacience most despised,
Til Homicide with hem meete.
Fro merci thei ben al unmeete, 1100
And thus ben thei the worste of alle
Of hem whiche unto wraththe falle,
In dede bothe and ek in thoght:
For thei acompte here wraththe at noght,
Bot if ther be schedinge of blod;
And thus lich to a beste wod
Thei knowe noght the god of lif.
Be so thei have or swerd or knif[935]
Here dedly wraththe forto wreke,
Of Pite list hem noght to speke; 1110
Non other reson thei ne fonge,
Bot that thei ben of mihtes stronge.[936]
[Sidenote: =P. i. 317=]
Bot war hem wel in other place,[937]
Where every man behoveth grace,
Bot ther I trowe it schal hem faile,
To whom no merci mihte availe,
Bot wroghten upon tiraundie,
That no pite ne mihte hem plie.[938]
[Sidenote: Opponit Confessor.]
Now tell, my Sone.
Fader, what?[939]
If thou hast be coupable of that. 1120
[Sidenote: Confessio Amantis.]
Mi fader, nay, Crist me forbiede:
I speke onliche as of the dede,[940]
Of which I nevere was coupable[941]
Withoute cause resonable.
Bot this is noght to mi matiere
Of schrifte, why we sitten hiere;
[Sidenote: [CONTEK WITHIN THE HEART.]]
For we ben sett to schryve of love,
As we begunne ferst above:
And natheles I am beknowe
That as touchende of loves throwe, 1130
Whan I my wittes overwende,
Min hertes contek hath non ende,
Bot evere it stant upon debat
To gret desese of myn astat
As for the time that it lasteth.
For whan mi fortune overcasteth
Hire whiel and is to me so strange,
And that I se sche wol noght change,
Than caste I al the world aboute,
And thenke hou I at home and oute 1140
Have al my time in vein despended,
And se noght how to ben amended,
[Sidenote: =P. i. 318=]
Bot rathere forto be empeired,
As he that is welnyh despeired:
For I ne mai no thonk deserve,[942]
And evere I love and evere I serve,
And evere I am aliche nerr.
Thus, for I stonde in such a wer,
I am, as who seith, out of herre;
And thus upon miself the werre 1150
I bringe, and putte out alle pes,
That I fulofte in such a res
Am wery of myn oghne lif.
So that of Contek and of strif
I am beknowe and have ansuerd,
As ye, my fader, now have herd.
Min herte is wonderly begon
With conseil, wherof witt is on,
Which hath resoun in compaignie;
Ayein the whiche stant partie 1160
Will, which hath hope of his acord,
And thus thei bringen up descord.
Witt and resoun conseilen ofte
That I myn herte scholde softe,[943]
And that I scholde will remue
And put him out of retenue,[944]
Or elles holde him under fote:
For as thei sein, if that he mote
His oghne rewle have upon honde,
Ther schal no witt ben understonde. 1170
Of hope also thei tellen this,[945]
That overal, wher that he is,
[Sidenote: =P. i. 319=]
He set the herte in jeupartie[946]
With wihssinge and with fantasie,[947]
And is noght trewe of that he seith,
So that in him ther is no feith:
Thus with reson and wit avised
Is will and hope aldai despised.
Reson seith that I scholde leve[948]
To love, wher ther is no leve 1180
To spede, and will seith therayein
That such an herte is to vilein,
Which dar noght love, and til he spede,
Let hope serve at such a nede:
He seith ek, where an herte sit
Al hol governed upon wit,
He hath this lyves lust forlore.[949]
And thus myn herte is al totore
Of such a Contek as thei make:
Bot yit I mai noght will forsake,[950] 1190
That he nys Maister of my thoght,
Or that I spede, or spede noght.
[Sidenote: Confessor.]
Thou dost, my Sone, ayein the riht;
Bot love is of so gret a miht,
His lawe mai noman refuse,
So miht thou thee the betre excuse.
And natheles thou schalt be lerned
That will scholde evere be governed[951]
Of reson more than of kinde,
Wherof a tale write I finde. 1200
A Philosophre of which men tolde
[Sidenote: [TALE OF DIOGENES AND ALEXANDER.]]
Ther was whilom be daies olde,
[Sidenote: =P. i. 320=]
And Diogenes thanne he hihte.
[Sidenote: Hic ponit Confessor exemplum, quod hominis
impetuosa voluntas sit discrecionis moderamine gubernanda.
Et narrat qualiter Diogenes, qui motus animi sui racioni
subiugarat, Regem Alexandrum super isto facto sibi
opponentem[953] plenius informauit.]
So old he was that he ne mihte
The world travaile, and for the beste
He schop him forto take his reste,
And duelte at hom in such a wise,
That nyh his hous he let devise[952]
Endlong upon an Axeltre
To sette a tonne in such degre, 1210
That he it mihte torne aboute;
Wherof on hed was taken oute,[954]
For he therinne sitte scholde
And torne himself so as he wolde,
To take their and se the hevene
And deme of the planetes sevene,
As he which cowthe mochel what.
And thus fulofte there he sat
To muse in his philosophie
Solein withoute compaignie: 1220
So that upon a morwetyde,
As thing which scholde so betyde,[955]
Whan he was set ther as him liste
To loke upon the Sonne ariste,
Wherof the propretes he sih,
It fell ther cam ridende nyh
King Alisandre with a route;
And as he caste his yhe aboute,
He sih this Tonne, and what it mente
He wolde wite, and thider sente 1230
A knyht, be whom he mihte it knowe,
And he himself that ilke throwe
[Sidenote: =P. i. 321=]
Abod, and hoveth there stille.
This kniht after the kinges wille
With spore made his hors to gon
And to the tonne he cam anon,
Wher that he fond a man of Age,
And he him tolde the message,
Such as the king him hadde bede,
And axeth why in thilke stede 1240
The Tonne stod, and what it was.[956]
And he, which understod the cas,
Sat stille and spak no word ayein.
The kniht bad speke and seith, ‘Vilein,
Thou schalt me telle, er that I go;
It is thi king which axeth so.’
‘Mi king,’ quod he, ‘that were unriht.’
‘What is he thanne?’ seith the kniht,
‘Is he thi man?’ ‘That seie I noght,’
Quod he, ‘bot this I am bethoght, 1250
Mi mannes man hou that he is.’
‘Thou lyest, false cherl, ywiss,’
The kniht him seith, and was riht wroth,[957]
And to the king ayein he goth
And tolde him how this man ansuerde.
The king, whan he this tale herde,
Bad that thei scholden alle abyde,
For he himself wol thider ryde.[958]
And whan he cam tofore the tonne,
He hath his tale thus begonne: 1260
‘Alheil,’ he seith, ‘what man art thou?’
Quod he, ‘Such on as thou sest now.’
[Sidenote: =P. i. 322=]
The king, which hadde wordes wise,
His age wolde noght despise,
Bot seith, ‘Mi fader, I thee preie
That thou me wolt the cause seie,
How that I am thi mannes man.’
‘Sire king,’ quod he, ‘and that I can,
If that thou wolt.’ ‘Yis,’ seith the king.
Quod he, ‘This is the sothe thing: 1270
Sith I ferst resoun understod,
And knew what thing was evel and good,
The will which of my bodi moeveth,
Whos werkes that the god reproeveth,
I have restreigned everemore,
As him which stant under the lore[959]
Of reson, whos soubgit he is,
So that he mai noght don amis:
And thus be weie of covenant
Will is my man and my servant, 1280
And evere hath ben and evere schal.
And thi will is thi principal,
And hath the lordschipe of thi witt,
So that thou cowthest nevere yit
Take o dai reste of thi labour;
Bot forto ben a conquerour
Of worldes good, which mai noght laste,
Thou hiest evere aliche faste,
Wher thou no reson hast to winne:
And thus thi will is cause of Sinne, 1290
And is thi lord, to whom thou servest,
Wherof thou litel thonk deservest.’
[Sidenote: =P. i. 323=]
The king of that he thus answerde
Was nothing wroth, bot whanne he herde
The hihe wisdom which he seide,[960]
With goodly wordes this he preide,[961]
That he him wolde telle his name.
‘I am,’ quod he, ‘that ilke same,
The which men Diogenes calle.’
Tho was the king riht glad withalle, 1300
For he hadde often herd tofore
What man he was, so that therfore
He seide, ‘O wise Diogene,
Now schal thi grete witt be sene;
For thou schalt of my yifte have
What worldes thing that thou wolt crave.’
Quod he, ‘Thanne hove out of mi Sonne,[962]
And let it schyne into mi Tonne;
For thou benymst me thilke yifte,
Which lith noght in thi miht to schifte: 1310
Non other good of thee me nedeth.’
This king, whom every contre dredeth,[963]
Lo, thus he was enformed there:
Wherof, my Sone, thou miht lere
How that thi will schal noght be lieved,
[Sidenote: [CONTEK.]]
Where it is noght of wit relieved.
And thou hast seid thiself er this
How that thi will thi maister is;[964]
Thurgh which thin hertes thoght withinne
Is evere of Contek to beginne, 1320
So that it is gretli to drede
That it non homicide brede.
[Sidenote: =P. i. 324=]
For love is of a wonder kinde,
And hath hise wittes ofte blinde,
That thei fro mannes reson falle;
Bot whan that it is so befalle
That will schal the corage lede,
In loves cause it is to drede:
Wherof I finde ensample write,
Which is behovely forto wite.[965] 1330
[Sidenote: [PYRAMUS AND THISBE.]]
I rede a tale, and telleth this:[966]
The Cite which Semiramis[967]
[Sidenote: Hic in amoris causa ponit Confessor exemplum
contra illos qui in sua dampna nimis accelerantes ex
impetuositate seipsos multociens offendunt. Et narrat
qualiter Piramus, cum ipse[968] Tisbee amicam suam in loco
inter eosdem deputato tempore aduentus sui promptam non
inuenit, animo impetuoso seipsum pre dolore extracto gladio
mortaliter transfodit: que postea infra breue veniens cum
ipsum sic mortuum inuenisset, eciam et illa in sui ipsius
mortem impetuose festinans eiusdem gladii cuspide sui
cordis intima per medium penetrauit.]
Enclosed hath with wall aboute,
Of worthi folk with many a route
Was enhabited here and there;
Among the whiche tuo ther were
Above alle othre noble and grete,
Dwellende tho withinne a Strete
So nyh togedre, as it was sene,
That ther was nothing hem betwene, 1340
Bot wow to wow and wall to wall.
This o lord hadde in special
A Sone, a lusti Bacheler,
In al the toun was non his pier:
That other hadde a dowhter eke,
In al the lond that forto seke
Men wisten non so faire as sche.
And fell so, as it scholde be,
This faire dowhter nyh this Sone
As thei togedre thanne wone, 1350
Cupide hath so the thinges schape,
That thei ne mihte his hand ascape,
[Sidenote: =P. i. 325=]
That he his fyr on hem ne caste:
Wherof her herte he overcaste
To folwe thilke lore and suie
Which nevere man yit miht eschuie;
And that was love, as it is happed,
Which hath here hertes so betrapped,[969]
That thei be alle weies seche
How that thei mihten winne a speche, 1360
Here wofull peine forto lisse.
Who loveth wel, it mai noght misse,
And namely whan ther be tuo
Of on acord, how so it go,
Bot if that thei som weie finde;
For love is evere of such a kinde
And hath his folk so wel affaited,
That howso that it be awaited,
Ther mai noman the pourpos lette:
And thus betwen hem tuo thei sette 1370
An hole upon a wall to make,
Thurgh which thei have her conseil take
At alle times, whan thei myhte.
This faire Maiden Tisbee hihte,
And he whom that sche loveth hote
Was Piramus be name hote.
So longe here lecoun thei recorden,
Til ate laste thei acorden
Be nihtes time forto wende
Al one out fro the tounes ende, 1380
Wher was a welle under a Tree;
And who cam ferst, or sche or he,
[Sidenote: =P. i. 326=]
He scholde stille there abide.
So it befell the nyhtes tide[970]
This maiden, which desguised was,
Al prively the softe pas
Goth thurgh the large toun unknowe,
Til that sche cam withinne a throwe
Wher that sche liketh forto duelle,
At thilke unhappi freisshe welle, 1390
Which was also the Forest nyh.
Wher sche comende a Leoun syh
Into the feld to take his preie,
In haste and sche tho fledde aweie,[971]
So as fortune scholde falle,
For feere and let hire wympel falle
Nyh to the welle upon therbage.
This Leoun in his wilde rage
A beste, which that he fond oute,
Hath slain, and with his blodi snoute, 1400
Whan he hath eten what he wolde,
To drynke of thilke stremes colde
Cam to the welle, where he fond
The wympel, which out of hire hond
Was falle, and he it hath todrawe,
Bebled aboute and al forgnawe;[972]
And thanne he strawhte him forto drinke
Upon the freisshe welles brinke,
And after that out of the plein
He torneth to the wode ayein. 1410
And Tisbee dorste noght remue,
Bot as a bridd which were in Mue
[Sidenote: =P. i. 327=]
Withinne a buissh sche kepte hire clos
So stille that sche noght aros;
Unto hirself and pleigneth ay.
And fell, whil that sche there lay,
This Piramus cam after sone
Unto the welle, and be the Mone
He fond hire wimpel blodi there.
Cam nevere yit to mannes Ere 1420
Tidinge, ne to mannes sihte
Merveile, which so sore aflihte[973]
A mannes herte, as it tho dede
To him, which in the same stede
With many a wofull compleignynge
Began his handes forto wringe,
As he which demeth sikerly
That sche be ded: and sodeinly
His swerd al nakid out he breide
In his folhaste, and thus he seide:[974] 1430
‘I am cause of this felonie,
So it is resoun that I die,
As sche is ded be cause of me.’[975]
And with that word upon his kne
He fell, and to the goddes alle
Up to the hevene he gan to calle,
And preide, sithen it was so
That he may noght his love as tho
Have in this world, that of her grace
He miht hire have in other place,[976] 1440
For hiere wolde he noght abide,
He seith: bot as it schal betide,
[Sidenote: =P. i. 328=]
The Pomel of his swerd to grounde
He sette, and thurgh his herte a wounde
He made up to the bare hilte:
And in this wise himself he spilte
With his folhaste and deth he nam;
For sche withinne a while cam,[977]
Wher he lai ded upon his knif.
So wofull yit was nevere lif 1450
As Tisbee was, whan sche him sih:
Sche mihte noght o word on hih
Speke oute, for hire herte schette,
That of hir lif no pris sche sette,
Bot ded swounende doun sche fell,
Til after, whanne it so befell
That sche out of hire traunce awok,
With many a wofull pitous lok
Hire yhe alwei among sche caste
Upon hir love, and ate laste 1460
Sche cawhte breth and seide thus:
‘O thou which cleped art Venus,[978]
Goddesse of love, and thou, Cupide,
Which loves cause hast forto guide,
I wot now wel that ye be blinde,
Of thilke unhapp which I now finde
Only betwen my love and me.
This Piramus, which hiere I se
Bledende, what hath he deserved?
For he youre heste hath kept and served, 1470
And was yong and I bothe also:
Helas, why do ye with ous so?
[Sidenote: =P. i. 329=]
Ye sette oure herte bothe afyre,[979]
And maden ous such thing desire
Wherof that we no skile cowthe;
Bot thus oure freisshe lusti yowthe
Withoute joie is al despended,
Which thing mai nevere ben amended:
For as of me this wol I seie,[980]
That me is levere forto deie 1480
Than live after this sorghful day.’
And with this word, where as he lay,
Hire love in armes sche embraseth,
Hire oghne deth and so pourchaseth
That now sche wepte and nou sche kiste,
Til ate laste, er sche it wiste,
So gret a sorwe is to hire falle,[981]
Which overgoth hire wittes alle.
As sche which mihte it noght asterte,[982]
The swerdes point ayein hire herte 1490
Sche sette, and fell doun therupon,
Wherof that sche was ded anon:
And thus bothe on o swerd bledende
Thei weren founde ded liggende.
[Sidenote: Confessor.]
Now thou, mi Sone, hast herd this tale,
Bewar that of thin oghne bale[983]
Thou be noght cause in thi folhaste,
And kep that thou thi witt ne waste
Upon thi thoght in aventure,
Wherof thi lyves forfeture 1500
Mai falle: and if thou have so thoght
Er this, tell on and hyde it noght.
[Sidenote: [THE LOVER’S CONFESSION. DANGER.]]
[Sidenote: =P. i. 330=]
Mi fader, upon loves side[984]
Mi conscience I woll noght hyde,
[Sidenote: Confessio Amantis.]
How that for love of pure wo
I have ben ofte moeved so,
That with my wisshes if I myhte,
A thousand times, I yow plyhte,
I hadde storven in a day;
And therof I me schryve may, 1510
Though love fully me ne slowh,
Mi will to deie was ynowh,[985]
So am I of my will coupable:
And yit is sche noght merciable,
Which mai me yive lif and hele.
Bot that hir list noght with me dele,
I wot be whos conseil it is,
And him wolde I long time er this,
And yit I wolde and evere schal,
Slen and destruie in special. 1520
The gold of nyne kinges londes
Ne scholde him save fro myn hondes,
In my pouer if that he were;
Bot yit him stant of me no fere
For noght that evere I can manace.
He is the hindrere of mi grace,
Til he be ded I mai noght spede;
So mot I nedes taken hiede
And schape how that he were aweie,
If I therto mai finde a weie. 1530
[Sidenote: Confessor.]
Mi Sone, tell me now forthi,
Which is that mortiel enemy
[Sidenote: =P. i. 331=]
That thou manacest to be ded.
[Sidenote: Confessio Amantis.]
Mi fader, it is such a qwed,
That wher I come, he is tofore,
And doth so, that mi cause is lore.
What is his name?
It is Daunger,
Which is mi ladi consailer:
For I was nevere yit so slyh,
To come in eny place nyh 1540
[Sidenote: [DANGER.]]
Wher as sche was be nyht or day,
That Danger ne was redy ay,
With whom for speche ne for mede
Yit mihte I nevere of love spede;
For evere this I finde soth,
Al that my ladi seith or doth
To me, Daunger schal make an ende,
And that makth al mi world miswende:
And evere I axe his help, bot he
Mai wel be cleped sanz pite; 1550
For ay the more I to him bowe,
The lasse he wol my tale alowe.
He hath mi ladi so englued,
Sche wol noght that he be remued;
For evere he hangeth on hire Seil,
And is so prive of conseil,
That evere whanne I have oght bede,
I finde Danger in hire stede
And myn ansuere of him I have;
Bot for no merci that I crave, 1560
Of merci nevere a point I hadde.
I finde his ansuere ay so badde,[986]
[Sidenote: =P. i. 332=]
That werse mihte it nevere be:
And thus betwen Danger and me
Is evere werre til he dye.
Bot mihte I ben of such maistrie,
That I Danger hadde overcome,
With that were al my joie come.
Thus wolde I wonde for no Sinne,
Ne yit for al this world to winne; 1570
If that I mihte finde a sleyhte,
To leie al myn astat in weyhte,
I wolde him fro the Court dissevere,
So that he come ayeinward nevere.
Therfore I wisshe and wolde fain
That he were in som wise slain;
For while he stant in thilke place,
Ne gete I noght my ladi grace.
Thus hate I dedly thilke vice,
And wolde he stode in non office 1580
In place wher mi ladi is;
For if he do, I wot wel this,
That owther schal he deie or I
Withinne a while; and noght forthi
On my ladi fulofte I muse,
How that sche mai hirself excuse,
If that I deie in such a plit.
Me thenkth sche mihte noght be qwyt
That sche ne were an homicide:
And if it scholde so betide, 1590
As god forbiede it scholde be,
Be double weie it is pite.
[Sidenote: =P. i. 333=]
For I, which al my will and witt
Have yove and served evere yit,
And thanne I scholde in such a wise
In rewardinge of my servise
Be ded, me thenkth it were a rowthe:[987]
And furthermor, to telle trowthe,
Sche, that hath evere be wel named,
Were worthi thanne to be blamed 1600
And of reson to ben appeled,
Whan with o word sche mihte have heled
A man, and soffreth him so deie.[988]
Ha, who sawh evere such a weie?
Ha, who sawh evere such destresse?[989]
Withoute pite gentilesse,
Withoute mercy wommanhede,
That wol so quyte a man his mede,
Which evere hath be to love trewe.
Mi goode fader, if ye rewe 1610
Upon mi tale, tell me now,[990]
And I wol stinte and herkne yow.
[Sidenote: Confessor.]
Mi Sone, attempre thi corage
Fro Wraththe, and let thin herte assuage:
For who so wole him underfonge,
[Sidenote: [MORE HASTE WORSE SPEED.]]
He mai his grace abide longe,
Er he of love be received;
And ek also, bot it be weyved,
Ther mihte mochel thing befalle,
That scholde make a man to falle 1620
Fro love, that nevere afterward
Ne durste he loke thiderward.
[Sidenote: =P. i. 334=]
In harde weies men gon softe,
And er thei clymbe avise hem ofte:
Men sen alday that rape reweth;
And who so wicked Ale breweth,
Fulofte he mot the werse drinke:
Betre is to flete than to sincke;
Betre is upon the bridel chiewe
Thanne if he felle and overthrewe, 1630
The hors and stikede in the Myr:
To caste water in the fyr
Betre is than brenne up al the hous:
The man which is malicious
And folhastif, fulofte he falleth,
And selden is whan love him calleth.
Forthi betre is to soffre a throwe
Than be to wilde and overthrowe;
Suffrance hath evere be the beste
To wissen him that secheth reste: 1640
And thus, if thou wolt love and spede,[991]
Mi Sone, soffre, as I the rede.
What mai the Mous ayein the Cat?
And for this cause I axe that,
Who mai to love make a werre,
That he ne hath himself the werre?
Love axeth pes and evere schal,
And who that fihteth most withal
Schal lest conquere of his emprise:[992]
For this thei tellen that ben wise, 1650
Wicke is to stryve and have the werse;
To hasten is noght worth a kerse;
[Sidenote: =P. i. 335=]
Thing that a man mai noght achieve,
That mai noght wel be don at Eve,
It mot abide til the morwe.
Ne haste noght thin oghne sorwe,
Mi Sone, and tak this in thi witt,
He hath noght lost that wel abitt.
Ensample that it falleth thus,
Thou miht wel take of Piramus, 1660
Whan he in haste his swerd outdrowh[993]
And on the point himselve slowh
For love of Tisbee pitously,
For he hire wympel fond blody
And wende a beste hire hadde slain;
Wher as him oghte have be riht fain,
For sche was there al sauf beside:
Bot for he wolde noght abide,
This meschief fell. Forthi be war,
Mi Sone, as I the warne dar, 1670
Do thou nothing in such a res,[994]
For suffrance is the welle of Pes.
Thogh thou to loves Court poursuie,
Yit sit it wel that thou eschuie
That thou the Court noght overhaste,
For so miht thou thi time waste;
Bot if thin happ therto be schape,
It mai noght helpe forto rape.
Therfore attempre thi corage;
Folhaste doth non avantage, 1680
Bot ofte it set a man behinde
In cause of love, and that I finde
[Sidenote: =P. i. 336=]
Be olde ensample, as thou schalt hiere,
Touchende of love in this matiere.
[Sidenote: [TALE OF PHEBUS AND DAPHNE.]]
A Maiden whilom ther was on,
Which Daphne hihte, and such was non[995]
Of beaute thanne, as it was seid.
[Sidenote: Hic ponit Confessor exemplum contra illos
qui in amoris causa nimia festinacione concupiscentes
tardius expediunt. Et narrat qualiter pro eo quod Phebus
quamdam virginem pulcherimam nomine Daphnem nimia amoris
acceleracione insequebatur, iratus Cupido cor Phebi sagitta
aurea ignita ardencius vulnerauit: et econtra cor Daphne
quadam sagitta plumbea, que frigidissima fuit, sobrius
perforauit. Et sic quanto magis Phebus ardencior in amore
Daphnem prosecutus[996] est, tanto magis ipsa frigidior
Phebi concupiscenciam toto corde fugitiua dedignabatur.]
Phebus his love hath on hire leid,
And therupon to hire he soghte
In his folhaste, and so besoghte, 1690
That sche with him no reste hadde;
For evere upon hire love he gradde,
And sche seide evere unto him nay.
So it befell upon a dai,
Cupide, which hath every chance
Of love under his governance,
Syh Phebus hasten him so sore:
And for he scholde him haste more,
And yit noght speden ate laste,
A dart thurghout his herte he caste, 1700
Which was of gold and al afyre,
That made him manyfold desire
Of love more thanne he dede.
To Daphne ek in the same stede
A dart of Led he caste and smot,
Which was al cold and nothing hot.
And thus Phebus in love brenneth,
And in his haste aboute renneth,
To loke if that he mihte winne;
Bot he was evere to beginne, 1710
For evere awei fro him sche fledde,
So that he nevere his love spedde.
[Sidenote: =P. i. 337=]
And forto make him full believe
That no Folhaste mihte achieve
To gete love in such degree,
This Daphne into a lorer tre
Was torned, which is evere grene,
In tokne, as yit it mai be sene,
That sche schal duelle a maiden stille,
And Phebus failen of his wille. 1720
Be suche ensamples, as thei stonde,
Mi Sone, thou miht understonde,
To hasten love is thing in vein,
Whan that fortune is therayein.
To take where a man hath leve
Good is, and elles he mot leve;
For whan a mannes happes failen,
Ther is non haste mai availen.
[Sidenote: Amans.]
Mi fader, grant merci of this:
[Sidenote: [FOOL-HASTE.]]
Bot while I se mi ladi is 1730
No tre, but halt hire oghne forme,
Ther mai me noman so enforme,[997]
To whether part fortune wende,
That I unto mi lyves ende
Ne wol hire serven everemo.
[Sidenote: Confessor.]
Mi Sone, sithen it is so,
I seie nomor; bot in this cas
Bewar how it with Phebus was.
Noght only upon loves chance,
Bot upon every governance 1740
Which falleth unto mannes dede,
Folhaste is evere forto drede,
[Sidenote: =P. i. 338=]
And that a man good consail take,
Er he his pourpos undertake,
For consail put Folhaste aweie.
[Sidenote: Amans.]
Now goode fader, I you preie,
That forto wisse me the more,
Som good ensample upon this lore
Ye wolden telle of that is write,
That I the betre mihte wite 1750
How I Folhaste scholde eschuie,
And the wisdom of conseil suie.
[Sidenote: Confessor.]
Mi Sone, that thou miht enforme
Thi pacience upon the forme
Of olde essamples, as thei felle,
Now understond what I schal telle.