CHAPTER I.

Transcriber's note: A few typographical errors have been corrected: they

are listed at the end of the text.

* * * * *

In this text [gh] represents the Middle English letter "yogh", which

appears similar to the numeral 3. [=a] signifies "a macron", and so forth.

* * * * *

CHAUCERIAN

AND OTHER PIECES

_EDITED, FROM NUMEROUS MANUSCRIPTS_

BY THE REV.

WALTER W. SKEAT, LITT.D., D.C.L., LL.D., PH.D.

ELRINGTON AND BOSWORTH PROFESSOR OF ANGLO-SAXON

AND FELLOW OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE

BEING A SUPPLEMENT TO THE

COMPLETE WORKS OF GEOFFREY CHAUCER

(OXFORD, IN SIX VOLUMES, 1894)

* * *

* * * *

'And yit ye shul han better loos,

Right in dispyt of alle your foos,

Than worthy is; and that anoon.'

_Hous of Fame, 1667-9._

Oxford

AT THE CLARENDON PRESS

M DCCC XCVII

* * * * *

Oxford

PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS

BY HORACE HART, M.A.,

PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY

* * * * *

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION.--§ 1. Works appended to those of Chaucer in various

editions. § 2. Thynne's collection in 1532. _A Praise of Women._

_The Lamentation of Mary Magdalen._ _The Remedy of Love._ § 3. Other

non-Chaucerian pieces. _The Craft of Lovers._ _A Balade._ _The Ten

Commandments of Love._ _The Nine Ladies Worthy._ _Virelai._ _The

Judgement of Paris._ _A Balade pleasaunte._ _Another Balade._ _The

Court of Love._ § 4. Additions by Speght. _Chaucer's Dream._ _Eight

Goodly Questions._ § 5. Editions and MSS. consulted. § 6.

Authorities for the pieces here printed. § 7. I. THE TESTAMENT OF

LOVE. § 8. The acrostic found in it. Name of the author. § 9. Fate

of Thomas Usk. § 10. Idea of the work. § 11. The author's

plagiarisms from Chaucer. § 12. How he stole a passage from The

House of Fame. § 13. Borrowings from Troilus and Piers Plowman.

§ 14. The author's inaccuracies. § 15. The title; and the meaning

of Margaret. § 16. Plan of the work. § 17. Outline of Book I. § 18.

Outline of Book II. § 19. Outline of Book III. § 20. II. THE

PLOWMANS TALE. § 21. Never supposed to be Chaucer's. § 22. Written

by the author of The Ploughmans Crede. § 23. III. JACK UPLAND. § 24.

Date, A.D. 1402. § 25. Traces of two texts. § 26. Not originally

written in alliterative verse. § 27. IV. THE PRAISE OF PEACE. By John

Gower. § 28. The Trentham MS. § 29. Date, A.D. 1399. § 30. V. THE

LETTER OF CUPID. By Thomas Hoccleve. § 31. VI. TWO BALADES. By Thomas

Hoccleve. § 32. VII. A MORAL BALADE. By Henry Scogan. Date, about

1407. § 33. The supper at the Vintry. § 34. VIII. THE COMPLAINT OF

THE BLACK KNIGHT. By John Lydgate. § 35. His quotations from Chaucer's

version of the Romaunt of the Rose. Date, about 1402. § 36. IX. THE

FLOUR OF CURTESYE. By John Lydgate. Date, about 1401. § 37. X. A BALADE

IN COMMENDATION OF OUR LADY. By John Lydgate. § 38. A new stanza and

a new MS. § 39. XI. TO MY SOVERAIN LADY. By John Lydgate. § 40. XII.

BALLAD OF GOOD COUNSEL. By John Lydgate. § 41. XIII. BEWARE OF

DOUBLENESS. By John Lydgate. § 42. XIV. A BALADE: WARNING MEN, &c.

By John Lydgate. § 43. XV. THREE SAYINGS. By John Lydgate. § 44. XVI.

LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCY. By Sir Richard Ros. Date, about 1460.

§ 45. Apparently in the Leicestershire dialect. § 46. Alan Chartier.

§ 47. Thynne's text and the MSS. § 48. XVII. THE TESTAMENT OF CRESSEID.

By Robert Henryson. Date, about 1460. § 49. XVIII. THE CUCKOO AND THE

NIGHTINGALE. Probably by Sir Thomas Clanvowe. § 50. The queen at

Woodstock; about A.D. 1403. § 51. Clanvowe's excessive use of the

final _-e_. § 52. His partiality for 'headless' lines. § 53. Milton's

Sonnet to the Nightingale. § 54. XIX. ENVOY TO ALISON. Not by Clanvowe.

§ 55. XX. THE FLOWER AND THE LEAF. By the authoress of The Assembly

of Ladies. § 56. The former is the earlier poem. Neither of them is

by Chaucer. § 57. Variations from Chaucer's usages. § 58. Examination

of the Rimes. § 59. Change in pronunciation. § 60. Gower on the

Flower and the Leaf. § 61. XXI. THE ASSEMBLY OF LADIES. By the

authoress of The Flower and the Leaf. § 62. Ordering of a medieval

household. § 63. XXII. A GOODLY BALADE. By John Lydgate. Imperfect.

§ 64. XXIII. GO FORTH, KING. By John Lydgate. § 65. _Duodecim

Abusiones._ § 66. XXIV. THE COURT OF LOVE. First printed in 1561.

§ 67. Tyrwhitt's plan for a Glossary to the Canterbury Tales. § 68.

Moxon's edition of Chaucer; establishing an erroneous canon of

Chaucer's Works. § 69. How to draw up such a canon correctly. § 70.

The Court of Love discussed. § 71. The Trinity MS. and the language.

§ 72. Artificiality of the archaisms affected. § 73. Examination of

the Rimes. § 74. Comparison with Chaucerian English. § 75. The

Courts of Love. § 76. Pieces numbered XXV-XXIX. § 77. Twelve

authors (at least) distinguished in the present volume. § 78.

There are probably four more. § 79. Improvements in the present PAGE

edition ix

I. THOMAS USK: THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE.

BOOK I: PROLOGUE AND CHAPTERS I-X 1

BOOK II: CHAPTERS I-XIV 46

BOOK III: CHAPTERS I-IX 101

II. THE PLOWMANS TALE 147

III. JACK UPLAND 191

IV. JOHN GOWER: THE PRAISE OF PEACE 205

V. THOMAS HOCCLEVE: THE LETTER OF CUPID 217

VI. THE SAME: TO THE KINGES MOST NOBLE GRACE 233

TO THE LORDES AND KNIGHTES OF THE GARTER 234

VII. HENRY SCOGAN: A MORAL BALADE 237

VIII. JOHN LYDGATE: THE COMPLAINT OF THE BLACK KNIGHT; OR,

THE COMPLAINT OF A LOVERES LYFE 245

IX. THE SAME: THE FLOUR OF CURTESYE 266

X. THE SAME: A BALADE; IN COMMENDATION OF OUR LADY 275

XI. THE SAME: TO MY SOVERAIN LADY 281

XII. THE SAME: BALLAD OF GOOD COUNSEL 285

XIII. THE SAME: BEWARE OF DOUBLENESS 291

XIV. THE SAME: A BALADE: WARNING MEN TO BEWARE OF DECEITFUL WOMEN 295

XV. THE SAME: THREE SAYINGS 297

XVI. SIR RICHARD ROS: LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCY 299

XVII. ROBERT HENRYSON: THE TESTAMENT OF CRESSEID 327

XVIII. THE CUCKOO AND THE NIGHTINGALE; OR, THE BOOK OF CUPID,

GOD OF LOVE. (By Clanvowe) 347

XIX. AN ENVOY TO ALISON 359

XX. THE FLOWER AND THE LEAF (By a Lady) 361

XXI. THE ASSEMBLY OF LADIES (By the same) 380

XXII. A GOODLY BALADE. (By John Lydgate) 405

XXIII. GO FORTH, KING. (By John Lydgate) 408

XXIV. THE COURT OF LOVE 409

XXV. A VIRELAI 448

XXVI. PROSPERITY. (By John Walton) 449

XXVII. LEAULTE VAULT RICHESSE 449

XXVIII. SAYINGS PRINTED BY CAXTON 450

XXIX. BALADE IN PRAISE OF CHAUCER 450

NOTES TO THE FOREGOING PIECES 451

GLOSSARIAL INDEX 555

INDEX OF NAMES 603

INDEX TO SOME SUBJECTS EXPLAINED IN THE NOTES 607

* * * * *

ERRATA AND ADDENDA

P. 26, l. 45. _For_ conuersion _read_ conversion.

P. 32, l. 38. Mr. Bradley suggests that _maistresse_ is a misprint of

Thynne's for _maistres secrè_, i.e. master's secret; alluding to John of

Northampton.

P. 33, l. 75. _For_ may it be sayd in that thinge 'this man thou demest,

_read_ may it be sayd, 'in that thinge this man thou demest,

P. 50, l. 28. _For_ in sacke, sowed with wolle _perhaps read_ in sacke

sowed, with wolle.

P. 52, ll. 107, 109. Mr. Bradley suggests that 'Caynes' and 'Cayn' are

Thynne's misprints for 'Cames' and 'Cam'; where _Cam_ (misread as _Cain_)

means _Ham_, for which the Vulgate has _Cham_.

P. 153, l. 187. _Insert a hyphen in_ gold-mastling.

P. 163, l. 520. _For_ punishments _read_ punishëments. (_See_ note.)

P. 180, l. 1050. _For_ [ful] _read_ [not]. (_See_ note.)

P. 186, l. 1231. End the line with a semicolon.

P. 192, l. 36. _Insert a mark of interrogation after_ speketh of.

P. 206, l. 27. _For_ request [the] _read_ requestë. (_See_ note.)

P. 213, l. 294. _For_ men _perhaps read_ pees. (_See_ note.)

P. 215, l. 363. _For_ debated _read_ delated. (_See_ note.)

P. 237; footnotes, l. 1. _For_ 1542 _read_ 1532.

P. 256, l. 371. _For_ tha _read_ that.

P. 458; note to l. 117. See also P. Pl. B. xiii. 277, 292.

P. 458; note to l. 53. For fuller details, see the Introduction.

P. 473; note to l. 155. Chaucer's Astrolabe was not written till 1391,

after Usk's death.

P. 475; note to Ch. XI. l. 11. On the subject of Grace, see Bk. iii. ch. 8.

P. 478; note to l. 47. _For_ taken from _read_ compare.

* * * * *

INTRODUCTION

§ 1. The following pieces are selected, as being the most important, from

among the very numerous ones which have been appended to Chaucer's works in

various editions.

I use the word 'appended' advisedly. It is not true that these works were

all attributed to Chaucer in the black-letter editions. The Praise of Peace

was marked as Gower's in Thynne's first edition of 1532. Another piece in

that edition is attributed to Scogan. The Letter of Cupid is expressly

dated 1402, though Chaucer died in 1400. The Flower of Curtesye contains

the words 'Chaucer is dede'; and The Testament of Cresseid contains a

remark which, in modern English, would run thus--'Who knows if all that

Chaucer wrote is true?'

Those who, through ignorance or negligence, regard Thynne's edition of

Chaucer as containing 'Works attributed to Chaucer' make a great mistake;

and even if the mistake be excused on the ground that it has been very

generally and very frequently made, this does not lessen its magnitude. The

title of Thynne's book is very instructive, and really runs thus:--'The

Workes of Geffray Chaucer newly printed, with dyuers workes which were

neuer in print before, &c.' This is strictly and literally true; for it

contains such works of Chaucer's as had previously been printed by Caxton,

Wynkyn de Worde, and Julian Notary (see vol. i. p. 28), together with

'dyuers workes [_of various authors_] which were neuer in print before.'

Which is the simple solution of the whole matter, as far as this edition is

concerned. The same remarks apply to the second edition in 1542, and the

third, printed about 1550. But Stowe, in 1561, altered the title so as to

give it a new meaning. The title-page of his edition runs thus:--'The

Woorkes of Geffrey Chaucer, newly printed with diuers Addicions which were

neuer in printe before.' Here the authorship of Chaucer was, _for the first

time_, practically claimed for the whole of Thynne's volume. At the same

time, Stowe did not really mean what he seems to say, for it was he who

first added the words--'made by Ihon lidgate'--to the title of 'The Flower

of Curtesie,' and who first assigned a title (ascribing the poem to _dan

Ihon lidgat_) to the poem beginning 'Consider wel'; see no. 40 (vol. i. p.

33).

§ 2. It is clear that Thynne's intention was to print a collection of

poems, including all he could find of Chaucer and anything else of a

similar character that he could lay his hands on[1]. In other words, the

collection was, from the beginning, a collection of the Works of Chaucer

_and other writers_; and this fact was in no way modified by the adoption

by Stowe and Speght of misleading titles that actually assigned to Chaucer

all the poems in the volume! See further, as to this subject, in the

discussion of The Court of Love below.

The number of pieces appended, at various times, to Chaucer's Works are so

numerous that I have been obliged to restrict myself to giving a selection

of them only.

Of the non-Chaucerian pieces printed by Thynne in 1532, I have included all

but three. The rejected pieces are those numbered 18, 21, and 22 in the

list given at p. 32 of vol. i. They are all poor and uninteresting, but I

add a few words of description.

18. _A Praise of Women._ Noticed in vol. i. p. 37. Though decisively

rejected by Tyrwhitt, and excluded from Moxon's reprint, it was revived

(for no good reason) by Bell, and consequently appeared in the Aldine

edition, which was founded on Bell's. It enumerates the merits of

womankind, and condemns the slanders of men concerning them. We ought to

worship all women out of reverence for the Queen of heaven, and we shall do

well to pray to Our Lady to bring us to the heaven in which she and all

good women will be found. Thynne is not the sole authority for this poem,

as it occurs also (in a Scottish dress) in the Bannatyne MS., fol. 275. The

whole of this MS. (written in 1568) was printed for the Hunterian Club in

1873-9; see p. 799 of that edition.

21. _The Lamentation of Mary Magdalen._ Noticed in vol. i. p. 37. This

lugubrious piece was probably the wail of a nun, who had no book but a

Vulgate version of the Bible, from which all her quotations are taken. It

bears no resemblance to any work by Chaucer, nor to any of the pieces in

the present volume. It consists of 102 seven-line stanzas. The metre

resembles Lydgate's, but the final _-e_ is hardly ever used. Bell's text is

not taken from Thynne, but from some later and inferior reprint of it. For

this poem, Thynne's first edition is the sole authority.

22. _The Remedy of Love._ Noticed in vol. i. p. 38. It appears that the

'remedy of love' is to be found in a consideration of the wicked ways of

women. Twelve whole stanzas are taken up with a metrical translation of one

of the chapters in the book of Proverbs. The author refers us to 'the fifth

chapter,' but he is wrong. He means chapter vii, verses 6-27. He also

quotes from Ecclesiasticus, ix. 9, and xxv. 25.

Nos. 28, 29, 30 (vol. i. p. 32) are not found in Thynne, but were first

printed by Stowe. I give them below, at p. 297. The first two stanzas are

Lydgate's; and probably the third is his also. It is no great matter.

No. 41 (vol. i. p. 33) was also first printed by Stowe. To save words, I

have printed it below, at p. 450, from the original MS.

§ 3. I now consider the non-Chaucerian pieces in Part II. of Stowe's

Edition (see vol. i. p. 33). Of these, nos. 45, 50, 56, and 59 are here

reprinted.

Nos. 46, 47, 48, 49, 51, 52, 53, 54, and 55 were all taken by Stowe from

MS. Trin. R. 3. 19. Perhaps they are sufficiently noticed in vol. i. p. 41,

as they present few points of interest. However, I enumerate them, adding a

few remarks.

No. 46. _The Craft of Lovers._ In 23 seven-line stanzas; 161 lines. Besides

the copy in the Trin. MS., there are copies (almost duplicates) in MSS.

Addit. 34360, fol. 73, back (p. 142), and Harl. 2251, fol. 53 (now called

52). Dated 1448 in the Trin. MS., but 1459 in the other two. The first line

ought to run:--'To moralise, who list these ballets sewe'; but it is clear

that some one added the words 'A similitude' in the margin, and that this

remark was afterwards incorporated in the text. Hence the first line, in

the latter MSS., stands:--'To moralise a similitude who list these balettis

sewe'; which is more than enough for a line of five accents. After two

introductory stanzas, the poem becomes a dialogue, in alternate stanzas,

between a wooer, named _Cupido_, and a lass, named _Diana_[2]; the result

of which is successful. This may be compared with La Belle Dame sans Merci,

and with the Nut-brown Maid. The twenty-third stanza forms the author's

_Conclusio_, which is followed by an Envoy in the Addit. MS., and in the

Harl. MS. only. The same MSS. _seem_ to superadd two more stanzas; but they

really belong to another piece.

No. 47. Taken by Stowe from MS. Trin. R. 3. 19, fol. 156, back. _A Balade._

In 4 seven-line stanzas; 28 lines. Begins--'Of their nature they greatly

them delite'; i.e. Women are by nature hypocrites; they like kissing live

images rather than shrines. So I advise young men to take warning: 'Beware

alwaye, the blind eateth many [a] flye'; a line which is quoted from

Lydgate's ballad printed at p. 295. The author then prays God to keep the

fly out of his dish; and ends by congratulating himself on being anonymous,

because women would else blame him.

No. 48. _The Ten Commandments of Love_; from Trin. MS., fol. 109. Also in

MS. Fairfax 16. Begins:--'Certes, ferre extendeth yet my reason.' In 14

stanzas of seven-lines; the last two form the Envoy. After two introductory

stanzas, the author gives the ladies their ten commandments. They are, it

appears, to exhibit Faith, Entencion, Discrecion, Patience, Secretnesse,

Prudence, Perseverance, Pity, Measure [Moderation], and Mercy. In the

Envoy, the author says, truly enough, that he is devoid of cunning,

experience, manner of enditing, reason, and eloquence; and that he is 'a

man unknown.'

No. 49. _The Nine Ladies Worthy._ In 9 seven-line stanzas, one stanza for

each lady. Begins: 'Profulgent in preciousnes, O Sinope the quene.' Only

remarkable for the curious selection made. The Nine Ladies are: (1) Sinope,

daughter of Marsepia, queen of the Amazons; see Orosius, Hist. i. 10; (2)

Hippolyta, the Amazon, wife of Theseus; (3) Deipyle, daughter of Adrastus,

wife of Tydeus; (4) Teuta, queen of the Illyrians; see note to C. T., F

1453 (vol. v. p. 398); (5) Penthesilea the Amazon, slain by Achilles before

Troy; (6) queen Tomyris, who slew Cyrus in battle, B.C. 529; (7) Lampeto

the Amazon, sister of Marsepia, and aunt of Sinope; (8) Semiramis of

Babylon; (9) Menalippe or Melanippe, sister of Antiope, queen of the

Amazons, taken captive by Hercules, according to Justinus, ii. 4. 23. Most

of these queens are mentioned by Orosius, i. 10, ii. 1, ii. 4; see also

Higden's Polychronicon, bk. ii. chapters 9, 21, 24, and bk. iii. c. 7. From

the Trin. MS., fol. 113, back.

[No. 50. _Virelai._ Printed below, at p. 448.]

No. 51. _A Ballade._ Begins:--'In the season of Feuerere when it was full

colde.' In 7 seven-line stanzas. In praise of the daisy. Very poor. From

the Trin. MS., fol. 160.

No. 52. _A Ballade._ Begins--'O Mercifull and o merciable.' In 12

seven-line stanzas. The Trin. MS. has 13 stanzas; but Stowe omitted the

tenth, because it coincides with st. 19 of the Craft of Lovers. It is made

up of scraps from other poems. Stanzas 1-4 form part of a poem on the fall

of man, from Lydgate's _Court of Sapience_ (see vol. i. p. 57). In st. 8

occurs the assonance of _hote_ (hot) and _stroke_; and in st. 9, that of

_cureth_ and _renueth_. From the Trin. MS., fol. 161.

No. 53. _The Judgement of Paris._ In 4 seven-line stanzas; the first is

allotted to Pallas, who tells Paris to take the apple, and give it to the

fairest of the three goddesses. After this, he is addressed in succession

by Juno, Venus, and Minerva (as she is now called). Then the poem ends.

Trin. MS., fol. 161, back.

No. 54. _A Balade pleasaunte._ Begins--'I haue a Ladie where so she bee.'

In 7 seven-line stanzas. Meant to be facetious; e.g. 'Her skin is smothe as

any oxes tong.' The author says that when he was fifteen years old, he saw

the wedding of queen Jane; and that was so long ago that there cannot be

many such alive. As Joan of Navarre was married to Henry IV in 1403, he was

born in 1388, and would have been sixty-two in 1450. It is an imitation of

Lydgate's poem entitled A Satirical Description of his Lady; see Minor

Poems, ed. Halliwell, p. 199. Trin. MS., fol. 205.

No. 55. _Another Balade._ Begins--'O mossie Quince, hangyng by your

stalke.' In 4 seven-line stanzas, of which Stowe omits the second. A

scurrilous performance. Trin. MS., fol. 205, back.

[No. 56. A Ballad by Lydgate; printed below, at p. 295.]

No. 58 is a Balade in 9 seven-line stanzas, of no merit, on the theme of

the impossibility of restoring a woman's chastity.

No. 59. _The Court of Love._ Printed below, at p. 409.

No. 60 is a genuine poem; and no. 61 is Lydgate's Story of Thebes. And here

Stowe's performance ceases.

§ 4. The subsequent additions made by Speght are discussed in vol. i. pp.

43-46. Of these, The Flower and the Leaf, Jack Upland, and Hoccleve's poem

to Henry V, are here reprinted; and Chaucer's ABC is genuine. He also

reprinted the Sayings at p. 450. The pieces not reprinted here are

Chaucer's Dream and Eight Goodly Questions.

_Chaucer's Dream_ is a false title, assigned to it by Speght; its proper

name is _The Isle of Ladies_. Begins--'Whan Flora, the quene of

pleasaunce.' The MS. at Longleat is said to have been written about 1550. A

second MS. has been acquired by the British Museum, named MS. Addit. 10303;

this is also in a hand of the sixteenth century, and presents frequent

variations in the text. It is very accessible, in the texts by Moxon, Bell,

and Morris; but how Tyrwhitt ever came to dream that it could be genuine,

must remain a mystery. I originally hoped to include this poem in the

present selection, but its inordinate length compelled me to abandon my

intention. In a prologue of seventy lines, the author truthfully states, at

l. 60, that he is 'a slepy[3] writer.' There are many assonances, such as

_undertakes_, _scapes_ (337); _named_, _attained_ (597); _tender_,

_remember_ (1115, 1415); _rome_, _towne_ (1567). Note also such rimes as

_destroied_, _conclude_ (735); _queen_, _kneen_, pl. of _knee_ (1779);

_nine_, _greene_ (1861); _vertuous_, _use_ (1889). Some rimes exhibit the

Northern dialect; as _paines_, _straines_, pr. s., 909; _wawe_,

_overthrawe_, pp., 1153; _servand_, _livand_, pres. pt., 1629; _greene_,

_eene_ (pl. of _e_, eye), 1719; _hand_, _avisand_, pres. pt., 1883; &c. Yet

the writer is not particular; if he wants a rime to _wroth_, he uses the

Southern form _goth_, 785; but if he wants a rime to _rose_, he uses the

Northern form _gose_ (goes), 1287, 1523. But before any critic can

associate this poem with Chaucer, he has first to prove that it was written

before 1450. Moreover, it belongs to the cycle of metrical romances, being

connected (as Tyrwhitt says) with the _Eliduc_ of Marie de France; and,

perhaps, with her _Lanval_.

To the _Isle of Ladies_ Speght appended two other poems, of which the

former contains a single stanza of 6 lines, and the latter is a ballad in 3

seven-line stanzas.

No. 66. _Eight Goodly Questions_; in Bell's Chaucer, iv. 421. In 9

seven-line stanzas. First printed in 1542. There are at least two

manuscript copies; one in the Trinity MS., marked R. 3. 15; and another in

the Bannatyne MS., printed at p. 123 of the print of the Bannatyne MS.,

issued by the Hunterian Club in 1873. In l. 19, the latter MS. corrects

_tree_ to _coffour_, the Scottish form of _cofre_. It is merely expanded

from the first seven lines of a poem by Ausonius, printed in Walker's

_Corpus Poetarum Latinorum_, with the title Eorundem Septem Sapientum

Sententiae. This English version is quite in Lydgate's style.

§ 5. EDITIONS AND MSS. CONSULTED.

I have repeatedly explained that there were but four black-letter editions

of Collected Works before Speght's; and these I call Thynne's first edition

(1532), Thynne's second edition (1542), the undated edition (about 1550,

which I call 1550 for brevity), and Stowe's edition (1561) respectively. I

shall denote these editions below by the symbols 'Th.,' ed. 1542, ed. 1550,

and 'S.' respectively. Of these editions, the first is the best; the second

is derived from the first; the third is derived from the second; and the

fourth from the third[4]. In every case it is useless to consult a later

edition when an earlier one can be found.

The following is the list of the pieces which depend on the editions

_only_, or for which the editions have been collated. I always cite the

earliest; that the later ones _also_ contain the piece in question must,

once for all, be understood.

Caxton.--XXVIII. No. VII. was also collated with a print by Caxton.

Wynkyn de Worde.--XXIII.

Wynkyn de Worde.--VIII.

Chepman and Miller (1508).--VIII.

Th.--I. IX. XI. XXII. Also collated for IV. V. VII. VIII. X. XII. XVI.

XVII. XVIII. XIX. XXI. XXIII.

Thynne had access to excellent MSS., and is always worth consulting.

Ed. 1542.--II. XXVIII. Collated for VI.

An early printed edition of Jack Upland.--III.

S. (1561).--XV. Collated for XIII. XIV. XXIV. XXV. XXIX.

A printed edition of the Testament of Cresseid (1593).--XVII.

Speght (1598).--XX. Collated for III.

The following twenty MSS. have been collated or consulted.

Trentham MS.--IV. (See Introduction.)

Fairfax 16.-V. VIII. XIII. XVI. XVIII. XIX. (See vol. i. p. 51.)

Bodley 638.--V. VIII. XVIII. (See vol. i. p. 53.)

Tanner 346.--V. VIII. XVIII. XIX. (See vol. i. p. 54.)

Ashmole 59.--VII. X. XIII. (See vol. i. p. 53.)

Arch. Selden B. 24.--V. VIII. XVIII. XXVI. XXVII. (See vol. i. p. 54.)

Digby 181.--V. VIII. (See vol. i. p. 54.)

Camb. Univ. Lib. Ff. 1. 6.--V. XII. XVI. XVIII. (See vol. i. p. 55.)

Pepys 2006.--VIII. (See vol. i. p. 55.)

Trin. Coll. R. 3. 19.--XIV. XVI. XXI. XXIV. XXV. XXIX. (See vol. i. p. 56.)

Trin. Coll. R. 3. 20.--V. (One of Shirley's MSS.)

Trin. Coll. O. 9. 38.--XIV.

Addit. 16165, B. M.--XIII. (See vol. i. p. 56.)

Addit. 34360, B. M.--XXI.

Harl. 372, B. M.--XVI. (See vol. i. p. 58.)

Harl. 2251, B. M.--VII. XII. XIV. (See vol. i. p. 57.)

Harl. 7578, B. M.--XIII. (See vol. i. p. 58.)

Sloane 1212, B. M.--X. (A fair copy.)

Phillipps 8151.--VI. (See Hoccleve's Poems, ed. Furnivall, p. 1.)

Ashburnham 133.--V. (See the same, p. xxvii.)

§ 6. Conversely, I here give the authorities from which each piece is

derived. For further comments on some of them, see the separate

introductions to each piece below.

I. _The Testament of Love_ (prose).--Th. (Thynne, 1532).

II. _The Plowmans Tale_ (1380 lines).--Th. (Thynne, 1542).

III. _Jack Upland_ (prose).--Early edition, Caius College library; Speght

(1598).

IV. _Praise of Peace_ (385 lines).--Th. (1532); Trentham MS.

V. _Letter of Cupid_ (476 lines).--Th. (1532); Fairfax, Bodley, Tanner,

Selden, Ashburnham, Digby MSS.; Trin. Coll. R. 3. 20; Camb. Ff. 1. 6; also

in the Bannatyne MS.

VI. _To the King's Grace_ (64).--Th. (1542); Phillipps 8151.

VII. _A Moral Balade_ (189).--Th. (1532); Caxton; Ashmole 59, Harl. 2251.

(I also find a reference to Harl. 367, fol. 85, back.)

VIII. _Complaint of the Black Knight_ (681).--Th. (1532); Fairfax, Bodley,

Tanner, Digby, Selden, Pepys; Addit. 16165. Also printed, separately, by

Wynkyn de Worde (n. d.); and at Edinburgh, by Chepman and Miller, in 1508.

IX. _The Flour of Curtesye_ (270).--Th. (1532).

X. _In Commendation of our Lady_ (140).--Th.; Ashmole 59; Sloane 1212.

XI. _To my Soverain Lady_ (112).--Th.

XII. _Ballad of Good Counsel_ (133).--Th.; Camb. Ff. 1. 6; Harl. 2251.

XIII. _Beware of Doubleness_ (104).--Stowe (1561); Fairfax 16, Ashmole 59,

Harl. 7578, Addit. 16165.

XIV. _A Balade: Warning Men_ (49).--Stowe (1561); Harl. 2251, fol. 149,

back; Trin. R. 3. 19; Trin. O. 9. 38.

XV. _Three Sayings_ (21).--Stowe (1561).

XVI. _La Belle Dame sans Mercy_ (856).--Th.; Fairfax, Harl. 372; Camb. Ff.

1. 6; Trin. R. 3. 19, fol. 98.

XVII. _Testament of Cresseid_ (616).--Th.; Edinburgh edition (1593).

XVIII. _The Cuckoo and the Nightingale_ (290).--Th.; Fairfax, Bodley,

Tanner, Selden; Camb. Ff. 1. 6.

XIX. _Envoy to Alison_ (27).--Th.; Fairfax, Tanner.

XX. _The Flower and the Leaf_ (595).--Speght (1598).

XXI. _The Assembly of Ladies_ (756).--Th.; Addit. 34360; Trin. R. 3. 19.

XXII. _A goodly Balade_ (71).--Th.

XXIII. _Go forth, King_ (14).--Wynkyn de Worde; Th.

XXIV. _The Court of Love_ (1442).--Stowe (1561); Trin. R. 3. 19.

XXV. _Virelai_ (20).--Stowe (1561); Trin. R. 3. 19.

XXVI. _Prosperity_ (8); XXVII. _Loyalty_ (7).--Selden MS.

XXVIII. _Sayings_ (14).--Caxton; reprinted, Th. (1542).

XXIX. _In Praise of Chaucer_ (7).--Stowe (1561); Trin. R. 3. 19.

* * * * *

§ 7. I. THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE; BY THOMAS USK.

Of this piece no MS. copy has been discovered. The only authority is

Thynne's edition of 1532, whence all later editions have been copied more

or less incorrectly. The reprints will be found to grow steadily worse, so

that the first edition is the only one worth consulting.

The present edition is printed from a transcript of Thynne (1532), made by

myself; the proof-sheets being carefully read with the original. In making

the transcript, I have altered the symbol _u_ to _v_, when used as a

consonant; and (in the few places where it occurs) the consonantal _i_ to

_j_. I have also substituted _i_ for _y_ when the vowel is short, chiefly

in the case of the suffix _-yng_ or _-ynge_, here printed _-ing_ or

_-inge_. In nearly all other cases, the original spellings are given in the

footnotes. Thynne's chief errors of printing occur in places where he has

persistently altered the spelling of the MS. to suit the spelling in

fashion in the days of Henry VIII. His chief alterations are as follows. He

prints _ea_ for open _ee_, written _ee_ or _e_ at the beginning of the

fifteenth century; thus, he has _ease_ for _ese_, and _please_ for _plese_.

He most perversely adds a useless final _e_ to the words _howe_, _nowe_,

and some others; and he commits the anachronism of printing _father_,

_mother_, _together_, _wether_, _gather_, in place of _fader_, _moder_,

_togeder_, _weder_, _gader_; whereas the termination in these words

invariably appears as _-der_ till shortly before 1500. Further, he prints

_catche_ for _cacche_, _perfection_ for _perfeccion_, and the like; and in

several other ways has much impaired the spelling of his original. Many of

these things I have attempted to set right; and the scholar who compares

the text with the footnotes will easily see why each alteration has been

made, if he happens to be at all conversant with MSS. written in the

fourteenth century.

I believe that this piece is almost unparalleled as regards the shameful

corruption of its text. It cannot be supposed that Thynne or any one else

ever read it over with the view of seeing whether the result presented any

sense. Originally written in an obscure style, every form of carelessness

seems to have been employed in order to render it more obscure than before.

In a great number of places, it is easy to restore the sense by the

insertion of such necessary words as _of_, or _but_, or _by_. In other

places, non-existent words can be replaced by real ones; or some correction

can be made that is more or less obvious. I have marked all inserted words

by placing them within square brackets, as, e.g., _am_ in l. 46 on p. 6.

Corrections of readings are marked by the use of a dagger (+); thus 'I +wot

wel' in l. 78 on p. 7 is my emendation of Thynne's phrase 'I wol wel,'

which is duly recorded in the footnote. But some sentences remain in which

the sense is not obvious; and one is almost tempted to think that the

author did not clearly know what he intended to say. That he was remarkable

for a high degree of inaccuracy will appear presently.

A strange misprint occurs in Book III. ch. 4, ll. 30, 31 (p. 117), where

nearly two whole lines occur twice over; but the worst confusion is due to

an extraordinary dislocation of the text in Book III. (c. iv. l. 56--c. ix.

l. 46), as recently discovered by the sagacity of Mr. H. Bradley, and

explained more fully below.

I have also, for the first time, revised the punctuation, which in Thynne

is only denoted by frequent sloping strokes and full stops, which are not

always inserted in the right places. And I have broken up the chapters into

convenient paragraphs.

§ 8. A very curious point about this piece is the fact which I was the

first to observe, viz. that the initial letters of the various chapters

were certainly intended to form an acrostic. Unfortunately, Thynne did not

perceive this design, and has certainly begun some of the chapters either

with the wrong letter or at a wrong place. The sense shews that the first

letter of Book I. ch. viii. should be E, not O (see the note); and, with

this correction, the initial letters of the First Book yield the

words--MARGARETE OF.

In Book II, Thynne begins Chapters XI and XII at wrong places, viz. with

the word 'Certayn' (p. 86, l. 133), and the word 'Trewly' (p. 89, l. 82).

He thus produces the words--VIRTW HAVE MCTRCI. It is obvious that the last

word ought to be MERCI, which can be obtained by beginning Chapter XI with

the word 'Every,' which suits the sense quite as well.

For the chapters of Book III, we are again dependent on Thynne. If we

accept his arrangement as it stands, the letters yielded are--ON THSKNVI;

and the three books combined give us the sentence:--MARGARETE OF VIRTW,

HAVE MERCI ON THSKNVI. Here 'Margarete of virtw' means 'Margaret endued

with divine virtue'; and the author appeals either to the Grace of God, or

to the Church. The last word ought to give us the author's name; but in

that case the letters require rearrangement before the riddle can be read

with certainty.

After advancing so far towards the solution of the mystery, I was here

landed in a difficulty which I was unable to solve. But Mr. H. Bradley, by

a happy inspiration, hit upon the idea that the text might have suffered

dislocation; and was soon in a position to prove that no less than six

leaves of the MS. must have been out of place, to the great detriment of

the sense and confusion of the argument. He very happily restored the right

order, and most obligingly communicated to me the result. I at once

cancelled the latter part of the treatise (from p. 113 to the end), and

reprinted this portion in the right order, according to the sense. With

this correction, the unmeaning THSKNVI is resolved into the two words THIN

USK, i.e. 'thine Usk'; a result the more remarkable because Mr. Bradley had

_previously_ hit upon Usk as being the probable author. For the

autobiographical details exactly coincide, in every particular, with all

that is known of the career of Thomas Usk, according to Walsingham, the

Rolls of Parliament, and the continuation of Higden's Polychronicon by John

Malverne (ed. Lumby, vol. ix. pp. 45-6, 134, 150, 169); cf. Lingard, ed.

1874, iii. 163-7.

The date of the composition of this piece can now be determined without

much error. Usk was executed on March 4, 1388, and we find him referring to

past events that happened towards the end of 1384 or later. The most likely

date is about 1387. I here append an exact account of the order of the text

_as it appears in Thynne_; every break in the text being denoted, in the

present volume, by a dark asterisk.

Thynne's text is in a correct order from p. 1 to p. 118, l. 56:--any

mouable tyme there (Th. fol. 354, col. 2, l. 11)[5].

(1) Next comes, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 135, l. 94:--Fole,

haue I not seyd--and ending at p. 143, l. 46:--syth god is the greatest

loue and the (Th. fol. 356, back, col. 1, l. 5).

(2) Next, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 131, l. 97:--ne ought to

loke thynges with resonnyng--and ending at p. 132, l. 161, at the end of a

chapter (Th. fol. 356, back, col. 2, last line).

(3) Next, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 124, l. 8:--Now trewly,

lady--and ending at p. 128, at the end of the chapter (Th. fol. 357, last

line).

(4) Next, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 132, new chapter:--Uery

trouth (quod she)--and ending at p. 135, l. 94:--that shal bringe out frute

that (Th. fol. 358, back, col. 1, l. 25).

(5) Next, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 118, l. 56:--is nothyng

preterit ne passed--and ending at p. 124, l. 7:--euer to onbyde (Th. fol.

360, col. 1, l. 24).

(6) Next, in Thynne, the passage beginning at p. 128, new chapter:--Nowe,

lady (quod I) that tree to set--and ending at p. 131, l. 97:--vse ye (Th.

fol. 360, back, col. 2, l. 9).

(7) Lastly, the text reverts to the true order, at p. 143, l. 46, with the

words:--greatest wisdom (Th. fol. 360, back, col. 2, l. 9. as before). See

The Athenæum, no. 3615, Feb. 6, 1897.

It is not difficult to account for this somewhat confusing dislocation. It

is clear that the original MS. was written on quires of the usual size,

containing 8 folios apiece. The first 10 quires, which we may call _a_,

_b_, _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _h_, _i_, and _k_, were in the right order.

The rest of the MS. occupied quire _l_ (of 8 folios), and quire _m_ (of

only 2); the last page being blank. The seventh folio of _l_ was torn up

the back, so that the two leaves parted company; and the same happened to

both the folios in quire _m_, leaving six leaves loose. What then happened

was this:--first of all, folios _l__1--_l__4, were reversed and turned

inside out; then came the former halves of _m__1, and _m__2, and the latter

half of _l__7; next _l__5 and _l__6 (undetached), with the former half of

_l__7 thrust in the middle; so that the order in this extraordinary quire

was as follows: _l__4, _l__3, _l__2, _l__1, all inside out, half of _m__1,

half of _m__2, the latter half of _l__7, _l__5, _l__6, and the former half

of _l__7, followed by the six undetached leaves. The last quire simply

consisted of _l__8 (entire), followed by the latter halves of _m__2 and

_m__1, which were kept in the right order by the fact that the last page

was blank.

It has thus become possible for us to make some progress towards the right

understanding of the work, which has hitherto been much misunderstood.

Warton (Hist. E. Poetry, 1840, ii. 218) dismisses it in two lines:--'It is

a lover's parody of Boethius's book De Consolatione mentioned above';

whereas the author was not a lover at all, except in a spiritual sense.

Even the fuller account in Morley's English Writers (1890), v. 261, is not

wholly correct. The statement is there made, that 'it professes to be

written, and probably was written, by a prisoner in danger of his life';

but the prison[6] may have been _at first_ metaphorical, as he could hardly

have written the whole work in two or three months. In Book iii. ch. 9, ll.

131, 132, he prays that 'God's hand, which has scourged him in mercy, may

hereafter mercifully keep and defend him in good plight.' The whole tone of

the treatise shews that he is writing to justify himself, and thinks that

he has succeeded. But a stern doom was close at hand.

§ 9. The truth is that the attempts of Godwin and others to make the

autobiographical statements of the author fit into the life of Chaucer,

have quite led the critics out of the right track. That the author was

_not_ Chaucer is perfectly obvious to every one who reads the passage in

the lower half of p. 140 with moderate attention; for the author there

refers to Chaucer as Love's 'noble philosophical poet in English,' who

wrote a treatise of Love's servant Troilus, and who 'passeth all other

makers in wit and in good reason of sentence'; praise which, however true

it may be of Chaucer, the writer was certainly not entitled to claim for

himself. The sole point in which the circumstances of the author agree with

those of Chaucer is this--that they were both born in London; which is,

obviously, too slight a coincidence to build upon. Now that we know the

author's name to have been Thomas Usk, the matter assumes quite another

complexion. Usk was much inclined, in his early days, to a belief in

Lollard opinions; but when he found that persistence in such belief was

likely to lead to trouble and danger, he deemed it prudent to recant as

completely as he could[7], and contemplates his consequent security with

some complacency.

In just the same way, it appears that he had changed sides in politics. We

first find him in the position of confidential clerk to John of

Northampton, mayor of London in 1381-2 and 1382-3. In July, 1384, Usk was

arrested and imprisoned in order to induce him to reveal certain secrets

implicating Northampton. This he consented to do, and accused Northampton

before the king at Reading, on the 18th of August. Northampton strenuously

denied the charges against him, but was condemned as guilty, and sent to

Corfe castle[8]. After this, Usk joined the party of Sir Nicholas Brembre,

mayor of London in 1383-4, 1384-5, and 1385-6, and Collector of Customs in

1381-3, when Chaucer was Comptroller of the same. Brembre had been active

in procuring the condemnation of Northampton, and was, at the close of

1386, one of the few personal adherents who remained faithful to the king.

In 1387, Richard was busily devising means for the overthrow of the duke of

Gloucester's regency, Brembre and Usk being on the king's side; but his

attempts were unsuccessful, and, in November of the same year, the duke of

Gloucester and his partisans, who were called the 'appellants,' became

masters of the situation; they accused the king's councillors of treason,

and imprisoned or banished their opponents. On Feb. 3, 1388, the appellants

produced their charges against their victims, Brembre and Usk being among

the number. Both were condemned and executed, Brembre on Feb. 20, and Usk

on the 4th of March. Usk's offence was that he had been appointed

sub-sheriff of Middlesex by Brembre's influence[9], with a view to the

arrest of the duke of Gloucester and others of his party. His defence was

that all that he had done was by the king's orders, a defence on which he

doubtless relied. Unfortunately for him, it was an aggravation of his

crime. It was declared that he ought to have known that the king was not at

the time his own master, but was acting according to the counsel of false

advisers; and this sealed his fate. He was sentenced to be drawn, hung, and

beheaded, and that his head should be set up over Newgate. The sentence was

barbarously carried out; he was hung but immediately cut down, and clumsily

beheaded by nearly thirty strokes of a sword. 'Post triginta mucronis ictus

fere decapitatus semper usque ad mortem nunquam fatebatur se deliquisse

contra Johannem Northampton, sed erant omnia vera quae de eo praedicaverat

coram rege in quodam consilio habito apud Radyngum anno elapso.'--Higden,

App. 169. John of Malverne speaks as if he had some personal recollection

of Usk, of whom he says--'Satagebat namque astu et arte illorum amicitiam

sibi attrahere quos procul dubio ante capitales hostes sibi fuisse

cognovit,'--Ib. p. 45.

We can now readily understand that Usk's praise of Chaucer must have been

more embarrassing than acceptable; and perhaps it was not altogether

without design that the poet, in his House of Fame, took occasion to let

the world know how he devoted his leisure time to other than political

subjects.

§ 10. Some of the events of his life are alluded to by Usk in the present

treatise. He justifies his betrayal of Northampton (p. 26, ll. 53-103, p.

28, ll. 116-201), and is grateful for the king's pardon (p. 60, ll. 120-4).

He refers to his first imprisonment (p. 60, l. 104), and tells us that he

offered wager of battle against all who disputed his statements (p. 60, l,

116; p. 31, l. 10); but no one accepted the wager.

He further tells us how he endeavoured to make his peace with the Church.

Taking his cue from the parable of the merchantman seeking goodly pearls

(p. 16, l. 84), he likens the visible Church of Christ to the pearl of

great price (p. 145, l. 103; p. 94, l. 121), and piteously implores her

mercy (p. 8, l. 135); and the whole tone of the piece shews his confidence

that he is reasonably safe (p. 144, l. 120). He sees clearly that lollardy

is unacceptable, and indulges in the usual spiteful fling against the

cockle (_lolia_) which the Lollards were reproached with sowing (p. 48, l.

93). He had once been a heretic (p. 99, l. 29), and in danger of 'never

returning' to the true Church (p. 99, l. 38); but he secured his safety by

a full submission (p. 105, l. 133).

At the same time, there is much about the piece that is vague, shifty, and

unsatisfactory. He is too full of excuses, and too plausible; in a word,

too selfish. Hence he has no real message for others, but only wishes to

display his skill, which he does by help of the most barefaced and

deliberate plagiarism. It was not from the Consolatio Philosophiae of

Boethius, but from the English translation of that work by Chaucer, that he

really drew his materials; and he often takes occasion to lift lines or

ideas from the poem of Troilus whenever he can find any that come in handy.

In one place he turns a long passage from the House of Fame into very

inferior prose. There are one or two passages that remind us of the Legend

of Good Women (i. pr. 100, ii. 3. 38, iii. 7. 38); but they are remarkably

few. But he keeps a copy of Chaucer's Boethius always open before him, and

takes from it passage after passage, usually with many alterations,

abbreviations, expansions, and other disfigurements; but sometimes without

any alteration at all. A few examples will suffice, as a large number of

parallel passages are duly pointed out in the Notes.

§ 11. In Chaucer's Boethius (bk. i. pr. 3. 10), when Philosophy, the

heavenly visitant, comes to comfort the writer, her first words are:--'_O

my norry_, sholde I forsaken thee now?' In the Testament (p. 10, l. 37),

Heavenly Love commences her consolations with the same exclamation:--'_O my

nory_, wenest thou that my maner be, to foryete my frendes or my

servaunts?' The Latin text--'An te, _alumne_, desererem?'--does not suggest

this remarkable mode of address.

This, however, is a mere beginning; it is not till further on that

plagiarisms begin to be frequent. At first, as at p. 37, the author copies

the sense rather than the words; but he gradually begins to copy words and

phrases also. Thus, at p. 43, l. 38, his '_chayres_ of domes' comes from

Chaucer's 'heye _chayres_' in bk. i. met. 5. 27; and then, in the next

line, we find '_vertue, shynende naturelly ... is hid_ under cloude,' where

Chaucer has '_vertu_, cler-_shyninge naturelly is hid_ in derke

derknesses'; bk. i. met. 5. 28. At p. 44, l. 66, we have: '_Whan nature

brought thee forth_, come thou not _naked out of thy moders wombe_? Thou

haddest no richesse'; where Chaucer has: '_Whan_ that _nature broughte thee

forth out of thy moder wombe_, I receyved thee _naked_, and nedy of alle

thinges'; bk. ii. pr. 2. 10. Just a few lines below (ll. 71-76) we have the

sense, but not the words, of the neighbouring passage in Chaucer (ll.

23-25). Further literal imitations are pointed out in the Notes to l. 85 in

the same chapter, and elsewhere. See, for example, the Notes to Book ii.

ch. iv. 4, 14, 20, 61; ch. v. 15, 57, 65, 67, 79; ch. vi. 11, 30, 74, 117,

123, 129, 132, 143; ch. vii. 8, 14, 20, 23, 30, 39, 50, 74, 95, 98, 105,

109, 114, 117, 130, 135, 139, 148; &c.

Those who require conviction on this point may take such an example as

this.

'O! a noble thing and clere is power, that is not founden mighty to kepe

himselfe'; (p. 70, l. 20).

'O! a noble thing and a cleer thing is power, that is nat founden mighty to

kepen it-self'; Ch. Boeth. bk. iii. pr. 5. 5-7.

The Latin text is: 'O praeclara potentia quae nec ad conseruationem quidem

sui satis efficax inuenitur.' I see no reason for supposing that the author

anywhere troubled himself to consult the Latin original. Indeed, it is

possible to correct errors in the text by help of Chaucer's version; see

the last note on p. 461.

§ 12. We get the clearest idea of the author's method by observing his

treatment of the House of Fame, 269-359. It is worth while to quote the

whole passage:--

'Lo! how a woman doth amis

_To love_ him that unknowen is!... 270

Hit _is not_ al _gold_ that glareth;...

Ther _may be under_ goodliheed

Kevered _many_ a shrewed _vyce_; 275

_Therefore_ be _no wight_ so nyce,

To take a love only for _chere_,

For _speche_, or for frendly manere;

For this shal every woman finde

That som _man_, of his pure kinde, 280

Wol _shewen outward_ the faireste

_Til he have_ caught that what him leste;

And _thanne wol_ he _causes finde_,

And swere how that she is unkinde,

_Or fals_, or prevy, or double was ... 285

Therfor I wol seye a proverbe,

That "he that fully knoweth th'erbe 290

May saufly leye hit to his yë" ...

Allas! is every man thus trewe,

That every yere wolde have a newe, ...

As thus: of _oon_ he wolde _have fame_, 305

In magnifying of his name;

Another _for frendship_, seith he;

And yet ther shal the _thri de_ be,

That shal be taken _for delyt_ ...

_Allas, that ever_ hadde routhe 332

_Any woman_ on any man!

Now see I wel, and telle can,

We wrecched _women conne_ non art ... 335

How sore that _ye men_ conne _grone_,

Anoon, as we have yow receyved,

Certeinly we _ben deceyved_;... 340

For through you is my name _lorn_,

And alle my actes _red and songe_

Over al this land on every tonge. 348

O wikke _Fame_!...

Eek, thogh I mighte _duren ever_,

_That_ I _have doon, rekever_ I _never_ ... 354

And that I shal thus juged be--

"Lo, right as she hath doon, now she

Wol do eftsones, hardily."' 359

If the reader will now turn to p. 54, l. 45, and continue down to l. 81 on

the next page, he will find the whole of this passage turned into prose,

with numerous cunning alterations and a few insertions, yet including all

such words as are printed above in italics! That is, he will find all

except the proverb in ll. 290, 291; but this also is not far off; for it

occurs over the leaf, on p. 56, at l. 115, and again at p. 22, ll. 44-45!

Surely, this is nothing but book-making, and the art of it does not seem to

be difficult.

§ 13. The author expressly acknowledges his admiration of Troilus (p. 140,

l. 292); and it is easy to see his indebtedness to that poem. He copies

Chaucer's curious mistake as to Styx being a pit (p. 3, l. 80, and the

note). He adopts the words _let-game_ (p. 18, l. 124) and _wiver_ (p. 129,

l. 27). He quotes a whole line from Troilus at p. 27, l. 78 (see note); and

spoils another one at p. 34, ch. viii. l. 5, a third at p. 80, l. 116, and

a fourth at p. 128, ch. vii. l. 2. We can see whence he took his allusion

to 'playing raket,' and to the dock and nettle, at p. 13, ll. 166, 167; and

the phrase to 'pype with an yvè-lefe' at p. 134, l. 50.

It is further observable that he had read a later text of Piers Plowman

with some care, but he seems to quote it from memory, as at p. 18, l. 153,

and p. 24, l. 118. A few other passages in which he seems to have taken

ideas from this popular and remarkable poem are pointed out in the Notes.

It is probable that he thence adopted the words _legistres_ and _skleren_;

for which see the Glossary, and consult the Notes for the references which

are there given.

§ 14. The author is frequently guilty of gross inaccuracies. He seems to

confuse Cain with Ham (p. 52, ll. 107, 109), but _Cayn_, says Mr. Bradley,

may be Thynne's misprint for _Cam_, i.e. Ham. He certainly confuses

Perdiccas with Arrhidæus (p. 52, l. 116). He speaks of the _eighth_ year,

instead of the _seventh_, as being a sabbatical year, and actually declares

that the ordinary week contains _seven_ working-days (p. 24, ll. 102-104)!

He tells us that Sunday begins 'at the first hour after noon (!) on

Saturday' (p. 82, l. 163). Hence it is not to be wondered at that some of

his arguments and illustrations are quite unintelligible.

§ 15. The title of the work, viz. THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE, readily reminds us

of the passage in Gower already quoted in vol. iii. p. xliii., in which the

goddess Venus proposes that Chaucer should write 'his testament of love,'

in order 'to sette an ende of alle his werke.' I have already explained

that the real reference in this passage is to the Legend of Good Women; but

I am not prepared, at present, to discuss the connection between the

expression in Gower and the treatise by Usk. The fact that our author

adopted the above title may have led to the notion that Chaucer wrote the

treatise here discussed; but it is quite clear that he had nothing to do

with it.

Professor Morley well says that 'the writer of this piece uses the word

Testament in the old Scriptural sense of a witnessing, and means by Love

the Divine Love, the Christian spirit encouraging and directing the wish

for the grace of God, called Margaret, the pearl beyond all price.' To

which, however, it is highly essential to add that Margaret is not used in

the sense of 'grace' alone, but is also employed, in several passages, to

signify 'the visible Church of Christ.' The author is, in fact, careful to

warn us of the varying, the almost Protean sense of the word at p. 145,

where he tells us that 'Margarite, a woman [i.e. properly a woman's name],

betokeneth _grace_, _lerning_, or _wisdom of god_, or els _holy church_.'

His object seems to have been to extend the meaning of the word so as to

give him greater scope for ingenuity in varying his modes of reference to

it. He has certainly succeeded in adding to the obscurity of his subject.

That by 'holy church' he meant the visible Church of Christ of his own

time, appears from the remarkable assertion that it is 'deedly,' i.e.

mortal (p. 94, l. 121). Such an epithet is inapplicable to the Church in

its spiritual character. It may also be observed that, however much the

sense implied by Margarite may vary, it never takes the meaning which we

should most readily assign to it; i.e. it never means a live woman, nor

represents even an imaginary object of natural human affection. The nearest

approach to such an ideal is at p. 94, l. 114, where we are told that the

jewel which he hopes to attain is as precious a pearl as a woman is by

nature.

§ 16. It hardly seems worth while to give a detailed analysis of the whole

piece. An analysis of the First Book (which is, on the whole, the best) is

given by Professor Morley; and the hints which I have already given as to

the character and situation of the author will enable the reader to regard

the treatise from a right point of view. But it is proper to observe that

the author himself tells us how he came to divide the work into three

books[10], and what are the ideas on which each book is founded. Each of

the three books has an introductory chapter. That to the First Book I have

called a Prologue; and perhaps it would have been strictly correct to have

called the first chapters of the other books by the same name. In the

introductory chapter to the Third Book, p. 101, he declares that the First

Book is descriptive of Error, or Deviation (which the editions print as

Demacion!); the Second, of Grace; and the Third, of Joy. In other words,

the First Book is particularly devoted to recounting the errors of his

youth, especially how he was led by others into a conspiracy against the

state and into deviation from orthodoxy. In the Prologue, he excuses

himself for writing in English, and announces the title of the work. He

then assures us that he is merely going to gather up the crumbs that have

fallen from the table, and to glean handfuls of corn which Boethius has

dropped. 'A sly servant in his own help is often much commended'; and this

being understood, he proceeds to help himself accordingly, as has already

been explained.

§ 17. BOOK I: CH. I. In Chapter I, he describes his misery, and hopes that

the dice will turn, and implores the help of Margaret, here used

(apparently) to typify the grace of God. He represents himself as being in

prison, in imitation of Boethius; but I suspect that, _in the present

passage_, the prison was metaphorical. (He had been imprisoned in 1384, and

in 1387 was imprisoned again; but that is another matter.)

CH. II. Heavenly Love suddenly appears to him, as Philosophy appeared to

Boethius, and is ready to console and reclaim him. She is aware of his

losses, and he tries to vindicate his constancy of character.

CH. III. He describes how he once wandered through the woods at the close

of autumn, and was attacked by some animals who had suddenly turned wild.

To save himself, he embarks on board a ship; but the reader is disappointed

to find that the adventure is wholly unreal; the ship is the ship of

Travail, peopled by Sight, Lust, Thought, and Will. He is driven on an

island, where he catches a glimpse of Love, and finds a Margaret, a pearl

of price. He appeals to Love to comfort him.

CH. IV. Love first reproves and then consoles him. She enquires further

into his complaints.

CH. V. She advises him to contemn such as have spoken against him. He

complains that he has served seven years for Rachel, and prays for comfort

in his eighth year. She exhorts him to perseverance.

CH. VI. He here goes into several details as to his previous conduct. The

authorities threatened to keep him in prison, unless he would reveal a

certain secret or plot. He was afraid that the peace of his native place,

London, would suffer; and to procure its peace, he 'declared certain

points.' Being charged upon oath to reveal certain secret dealings, he at

once did so; for which he incurred much odium.

CH. VII. To prove that he had only spoken the truth, he offered wager of

battle; and was justified by the fact that no one accepted it. He had not

perjured himself, because his oath in the law-court was superior to his

former oath of secrecy. He only meant truth, but was sadly slandered. It is

absurd to be 'a stinking martyr' in a false cause.

CH. VIII. Love tells him he has greatly erred, and must expect much

correction. Earthly fame should be despised, whilst he looks for the fame

that comes after death.

CH. IX. Love vindicates the greatness of God and the goodness of His

providence.

CH. X. The author complains of his hard fortune; he has lost his goods and

has been deprived of his office. Love explains that adversity teaches

salutary lessons, and that the true riches may still be his own.

§ 18. BOOK II. In the first chapter (or Prologue) of the Second Book, he

again discusses the object of his work. In Chapter II, Love sings him a

Latin song, introducing complaints against the clergy such as frequently

occur in Piers the Plowman. In Chapter III, we find a discourse on

womankind, largely borrowed from Chaucer's House of Fame. The next eight

chapters are chiefly devoted to a discussion of the way by which the

repentant sinner may come to 'the knot' of Heavenly bliss; and it is here,

in particular, that a large portion of Chaucer's Boethius is freely

imitated or copied. The last three chapters recount the excellences of

Margaret, which in many passages refers rather to the visible Church than

to divine Grace.

§ 19. BOOK III. The first chapter is again introductory, explaining why the

number of Books is three. 'The Margaret in virtue is likened to Philosophy,

with her three kinds.' It is remarkable that this Third Book, which is

dedicated to Joy, is the dullest of the three, being largely taken up with

the questions of predestination and free will, with more borrowings from

Chaucer's Boethius. In Chapter V, Love explains how continuance in good

will produces the fruit of Grace; and, in Chapters VI and VII, shews how

such grace is to be attained. Chapter IX recurs to the subject of

predestination; after which the work comes to a formal conclusion, with

excuses for its various imperfections.

§ 20. II. THE PLOWMANS TALE.

This piece does not appear in Thynne's first edition of 1532, but occurs,

for the first time, in the second edition of 1542, where it is added at the

end of the Canterbury Tales, after the Parson's Tale. In the next (undated)

edition, probably printed about 1550, it is placed _before_ the Parson's

Tale, as if it were really Chaucer's, and the same arrangement occurs in

the fourth edition, that of 1561, by John Stowe. It is worth mentioning

that some booksellers put forward a fable as to the true date of the

undated edition being 1539, in order to enhance the value of their copies;

but the pretence is obviously false, as is shewn by collation[11]; besides

which, it is not likely that the Plowman's Tale would have been _at first_

inserted before the Parson's Tale, _then_ placed after it, and then _again_

placed before it. It is best to separate the first four editions by nearly

equal intervals, their dates being, respectively, 1532, 1542, about 1550,

and 1561.

Comparison of the black-letter editions shews that the first is the best;

and the later ones, being mere reprints, grow gradually worse. Hence, in

this case, the edition of 1542 is the sole authority, and the readings of

the inferior copies may be safely neglected. It is remarkable that Mr. T.

Wright, in his edition of this poem printed in his Political Poems and

Songs, i. 304, should have founded his text upon a reprint of Speght in

1687, when he might have taken as his authority a text more than 140 years

older. The result is, naturally, that his text is much worse than was at

all necessary.

According to Speght, there was once a MS. copy of this piece in Stowe's

library, but no one knows what became of it. According to Todd, in his

Illustrations of Gower and Chaucer, p. xxxix, there was once a black-letter

edition of it, entitled 'The Plouuman's tale compylled by syr Geffray

Chaucer knyght.' Todd says: 'It is of the duodecimo size, in the black

letter, without date, and imprinted at London in Paules churche-yarde at

the sygne of the Hyll, by Wyllyam Hyll. I have compared with the poem as

printed by Urry forty or fifty lines, and I found almost as many variations

between them[12]. The colophon of this book is, _Thus endeth the boke of

Chaunterburye Tales_. This rarity belongs to the Rev. Mr. Conybeare, the

present Professor of the Saxon language in the University of Oxford.' This

edition can no longer be traced. Hazlitt mentions a black-letter edition of

this piece, printed separately by Thomas Godfray (about 1535), on twenty

leaves; of which only one copy is known, viz. that at Britwell. There is

also a late print of it in the Bodleian Library, dated 1606.

§ 21. It is needless to discuss the possibility that Chaucer wrote this

Tale, as it is absent from all the MSS.; and it does not appear that the

ascription of it to him was taken seriously. It is obvious, from the

introductory Prologue (p. 147), that the author never intended his work to

be taken for Chaucer's; he purposely chooses a different metre from any

that occurs in the Canterbury Tales, and he introduces his Ploughman as

coming under the Host's notice quite suddenly, so that the Host is

constrained to ask him--'what man art thou?' The whole manner of the Tale

is conspicuously and intentionally different from that of Chaucer; and

almost the only expression which at all resembles Chaucer occurs in ll. 51,

52:--

'I pray you that no man me reproche

Whyl that I am my tale telling.'

Chaucer himself, before reciting his Tale of Melibeus, said much the same

thing:--

'And let me tellen al my tale, I preye.'

I do not know why Mr. Wright, when reprinting this piece, omitted the

Prologue. It is a pity that half of the sixth stanza is missing.

§ 22. At l. 1065 we meet with a most important statement:--

'Of freres I have told before

In a making of a Crede.'

It is generally agreed that the author here claims to have previously

written the well-known piece entitled Pierce the Ploughman's Crede, which I

edited for the Early English Text Society in 1867. I then took occasion to

compare the language of these two pieces (which I shall shortly call the

Crede and the Tale), and I found ample confirmation, from internal

evidence, that the claim is certainly true. There are many similarities of

expression, some of which I here lay before the reader.

FROM THE CREDE. FROM THE TALE.

Curteis Crist (1, 140). curteys Christ (482).

cutted cote (434). cutted clothes (929).

y can noh[gh]t my Crede (8). Suche that conne nat hir Crede

(413).

At marketts and myracles, we Market-beters, and medling make

medleth us nevere (107). (871).

For we buldeth a burw[gh], a brod And builde als brode as a citè

and a large (118). (743).

portreid and peint (121). I-paynted and portred (135).

peynt and portred (192).

y sey coveitise catel to fongen To catche catell as covytous (385;

(146). cf. 856).

Of double worstede y-dy[gh]t (228). With double worsted well y-dight

(1002).

Than ther lefte in Lucifer, er he As lowe as Lucifer such shall fall

were lowe fallen (374). (124).

opon the plow hongen (421). honged at the plow (1042).

povere in gost God him-self The pore in spirit gan Christ

blisseth (521). blesse (915).

ben maysters icalled, That the Maysters be called defended he tho

gentill Jesus ... purly defended (1115).

(574).

to brenne the bodye in a bale of Thou shalt be brent in balefull

fijr (667). fyre (1234).

Thei shulden nou[gh]t after the They nolde nat demen after the

face ... demen (670). face (714).

Thei schulden delven and diggen Threshing and dyking fro town to

and dongen the erthe, town,

And mene mong-corn bred to her With sory mete, and not half y-now

mete fongen (785). (1043).

He mi[gh]te no maistre ben kald, Maysters be called defended he tho

for Crist that defended (838). (1115).

The Crede is written in alliterative verse; and it will be observed that

alliteration is employed in the Tale very freely. Another peculiarity in

the Tale may here be noticed, viz. the use of the same rime, _fall_ or

_befall_, throughout Part I, with the exception of ll. 205-228. Indeed, in

the first line of Part II, the author apologizes for being unable to find

any more rimes for _fall_, and proceeds to rime upon _amend_ throughout

that Part. In Part III, he begins to rime upon _grace_ in the first two

stanzas, but soon abandons it for the sake of freedom; however, at l. 1276,

he recurs to _grace_, and continues to rime upon it till the end. It is

clear that the author possessed considerable facility of expression. We can

date these pieces approximately without much error. The proceedings against

Walter Brute, expressly alluded to in the Crede, l. 657, lasted from Oct.

15, 1391, to Oct. 6, 1393, when he submitted himself to the bishop of

Hereford. We may well date the Crede about 1394, and the Tale (which

probably soon followed it, as the author repeats some of his expressions)

about 1395[13].

Both these pieces are written in a spirited style, and are of considerable

interest for the light which they throw upon many of the corrupt practices

of the monks, friars, and clergy. The Crede is directed against the friars

in particular, and reflects many of the opinions of Wyclif, as will easily

appear by comparing it with Wyclif's works. See, in particular, his Fifty

Heresies and Errors of Friars (Works, ed. Arnold, iii. 366). It would have

been easy to crowd the Notes with quotations from Wyclif; but it is

sufficient to point out so obvious a source. I have not observed any

passage in which the author copies the exact language of Langland. The

dialect seems to be some form of Midland, and is somewhat archaic; many of

the verbal forms are of some value to the philologist. Taken altogether, it

is a piece of considerable interest and merit. Ten Brink alludes to it as

'that transparent, half-prophetic allegory of the Quarrel between the

Griffin and the Pelican'; and adds--'The Griffin was the representative of

the prelates and the monks, the Pelican that of real Christianity in

Wyclif's sense. At a loss for arguments, the Griffin calls in at last all

the birds of prey in order to destroy its rival. The Phoenix, however,

comes to the help of the Pelican, and terribly destroys the robber-brood.'

Tyrwhitt observed, with great acuteness, that Spenser's allusion, in the

Epilogue to his Shepheards Calender, to 'the Pilgrim that the Ploughman

playde awhyle,' may well refer to the author of the Plowman's Tale rather

than to Langland[14]. Cf. p. 147, l. 12. It was natural that Spenser should

mention him along with Chaucer, because their productions were bound up

together in the same volume; a volume which was, to Spenser, a

treasure-house of archaic words.

The discussion on points of religion between the Griffin and the Pelican

clearly suggested to Dryden his discussion between the Hind and the

Panther. His choice of quadrupeds in place of birds is certainly no

improvement.

§ 23. III. JACK UPLAND.

Of this piece, no MS. copy is known. It is usually said to have been first

printed by Speght, in his second edition of Chaucer's Works in 1602; but I

have been so fortunate as to find a better and earlier text in the library

of Caius College, Cambridge, to which my attention was drawn by a note in

Hazlitt's Bibliographer's Handbook. This copy, here taken as the basis of

my text, and collated with Speght, is a small book consisting of only 16

leaves. The title-page contains the following words, within a square

border. ¶ Jack vp Lande | Compyled by the | famous Geoffrey | Chaucer. |

Ezechielis. xiii. | ¶ Wo be vnto you that | dishonour me to me (_sic_) peo

| ple for an handful of bar | lye & for a pece of bread. | Cum priuilegio |

Regali.

At the end of the treatise is the colophon: ¶ Prynted for Ihon Gough. Cum

Priuilegio Regali.

Hazlitt conjectures that it was printed about 1540. I think we may safely

date it in 1536; for it is bound up in a volume with several other tracts,

and it so happens that the tract next following it is by Myles Coverdale,

and is dated 1536, being printed in just the very same type and style. We

can also tell that it must have been printed after 1535, because the verse

from Ezekiel xiii, as quoted on the title-page (see above), exactly

corresponds with Coverdale's version of the Bible, the first edition of

which appeared in that year.

The text of Jack Upland, in the Caius College copy, has the following

heading, in small type:--'¶ These b[=e] the lewed questions of Freres rytes

and obseruaunces the whych they chargen more than Goddes lawe, and therfore

men shulden not gyue hem what so they beggen, tyll they hadden answered and

clerely assoyled these questions.'

As this copy is, on the whole, considerably superior to Speght's both as

regards sense and spelling, I have not given his inferior readings and

errors. In a very few places, Speght furnishes some obvious corrections;

and in such instances his readings are noted.

§ 24. A very convenient reprint of Speght's text is given in Wright's

edition of Political Poems and Songs (Record Series), vol. ii. p. 16. In

the same volume, p. 39, is printed a reply to Jack Upland's questions by a

friar who facetiously calls himself Friar Daw Topias, though it appears

(from a note printed at p. 114) that his real name was John Walsingham. Nor

is this all; for Friar Daw's reply is further accompanied by Jack Upland's

rejoinder, printed, for convenience, below Friar Daw's text. It is most

likely, as Mr. Wright concludes, that all three pieces may be dated in the

same year. It was necessary that Friar Daw (who gave himself this name in

order to indicate that he is a comparatively unlearned man, yet easily able

to refute his audacious questioner) should produce his reply at once; and

we may be sure that Jack's rejoinder was not long delayed. Fortunately, the

date can be determined with sufficient exactness; for Jack's rejoinder

contains the allusion: 'and the kyng by his juges trwe [sholde] execute his

lawe, as he _did now late_, whan he hangid you traytours,' p. 86. This

clearly refers to June, 1402[15], when eight Franciscan friars were hanged

at Tyburn for being concerned in a plot against the life of Henry IV. We

may, accordingly, safely refer all three pieces to the year 1402; shortly

after Chaucer's death.

§ 25. It is also tolerably clear that there must have been two texts of

'Jack Upland,' an earlier and a later one. The earlier one, of which we

have no copy, can easily be traced by help of Friar Daw's reply, as he

quotes all that is material point by point. It only extended as far as the

54th question in the present edition (p. 199); after which followed two

more questions which do not here reappear. The later copy also contains a

few questions, not far from the beginning, which Friar Daw ignores. It is

clear that we only possess a later, and, on the whole, a fuller copy. One

of the omitted questions relates to transubstantiation; and, as any

discussion of it was extremely likely, at that date, to be ended by burning

the disputant at the stake, it was certainly prudent to suppress it. Not

perceiving this point, Mr. Wright too hastily concluded that our copy of

Jack Upland is extremely corrupt, a conclusion quite unwarranted; inasmuch

as Friar Daw, in spite of his affectation of alliterative verse, quotes his

adversary's questions with reasonable correctness. On this unsound theory

Mr. Wright has built up another, still less warranted, viz. that the

original copy of Jack Upland must have been written in alliterative verse;

for no other reason than because Friar Daw's reply is so written. It is

obvious that alliteration is conspicuously absent, except in the case of

the four lines (424-7), which are introduced, by way of flourish, at the

end. My own belief is that our copy of Jack Upland is a second edition,

i.e. an amended and extended copy, which has been reasonably well

preserved. It is more correct than the Plowmans Tale, and very much more

correct than the Testament of Love.

§ 26. Mr. Wright further imagines that Jack Upland's rejoinder to Friar

Daw's reply, which he prints from 'a contemporary MS. in the Bodleian

Library at Oxford, MS. Digby 41,' was also originally in alliterative

verse. This supposition is almost as gratuitous as the former; for,

although there are very frequent traces of alliteration as an occasional

embellishment, it is otherwise written in ordinary prose. The mere chopping

up of prose into bits of not very equal length, as in Mr. Wright's print,

does not produce verse of any kind. Friar Daw's verses are bad enough, as

he did not understand his model (obviously the Ploughman's Crede), but he

usually succeeds in making a kind of jingle, with pauses, for the most

part, in the right place. But there is no verse discoverable in Jack

Upland; he preferred straightforward prose, for reasons that are perfectly

obvious.

For further remarks, I beg leave to refer the reader to Mr. Wright's

Introduction, pp. xii-xxiv, where he will find an excellent summary of the

arguments adduced on both sides. There is a slight notice of Jack Upland in

Morley's English Writers, vi. 234.

§ 27. IV. JOHN GOWER: THE PRAISE OF PEACE.

In Morley's English Writers, iv. 157, this poem is entitled 'De Pacis

Commendatione,' on MS. authority (see p. 216). Mr. E. B. Nicholson, who has

made a special study of Gower's poems, suggested 'The Praise of Peace,'

which I have gladly adopted. I am much obliged to Mr. Nicholson for his

assistance in various ways; and, in particular, for the generous loan of

his own transcript of this poem.

§ 28. In Todd's Illustrations of Gower and Chaucer, p. 95, is a notice of a

MS. 'in the present Marquis of Stafford's library at Trentham,' which had

been previously described in Warton's Hist. of E. Poetry as being 'in Lord

Gower's library.' Mr. Wright alludes to it as 'a contemporary MS. in the

possession of his grace the duke of Sutherland.' It may be called 'the

Trentham MS.' 'The Praise of Peace' was printed from it by Mr. Wright, in

his Political Poems and Songs, ii. 4-15; and I have followed his text,

which I denote by 'T.' At the same time, I have collated it with the text

of Thynne's edition of 1532, which is a very good one. The differences are

slight.

Warton describes the MS. as 'a thin oblong MS. on vellum, containing some

of Gower's poems in Latin, French, and English. By an entry in the first

leaf, in the handwriting and under the signature of Thomas lord Fairfax,

Cromwell's general, an antiquarian, and a lover and collector of curious

manuscripts, it appears that this book was presented by the poet Gower,

about 1400[16], to Henry IV; and that it was given by lord Fairfax to his

friend and kinsman Sir Thomas Gower, knight and baronet, in the year 1656.'

He goes on to say that Fairfax had it from Charles Gedde, Esq., of St.

Andrews; and that it was at one time in the possession of King Henry VII,

while earl of Richmond, who wrote in it his own name in the form

'Rychemond.'

The MS. contains (1) The Praise of Peace, _preceded by_ the seven Latin

lines (386-392), which I have relegated to the end of the poem, as in

Thynne. The title is given in the colophon (p. 216); after which follow the

twelve Latin lines (393-404), printed on the same page. (2) Some

complimentary verses in Latin, also addressed to Henry IV, printed in

Wright's Political Poems, ii. 1-3. (3) Fifty Balades in French, which have

been printed by Stengel (Warton prints _four_ of them), with the

colophon--'Expliciunt carmina Joh[=i]s Gower que Gallice composita

_Balades_ dicuntur.' (4) Two short Latin poems in elegiacs; see Warton. (5)

A French poem on the Dignity or Excellence of Marriage. (6) Seventeen Latin

hexameters. (7) Gower's Latin verses on his blindness, beginning--

'Henrici quarti primus regni fuit annus,

Quo michi defecit visus ad acta mea,' &c.

See Todd and Warton for more minute particulars.

§ 29. The poem itself may safely be dated in the end of 1399, for reasons

given in the note to l. 393. It is of some interest, as being Gower's last

poem in English, and the spirit of it is excellent, though it contains no

very striking lines. We have not much of Gower's work in the form of

seven-line stanzas. The Confessio Amantis contains only twelve such

stanzas; iii. 349-352. I draw attention to the earliest known reference (l.

295) to the game of 'tenetz'; the enumeration of the nine worthies (ll.

281-3); and the reference to a story about Constantine which, in the

Confessio Amantis, is related at considerable length (l. 339).

We may compare with this poem the stanzas in praise of peace in Hoccleve's

De Regimine Principum, quoted in Morley's English Writers (1890), vol. vi.

pp. 131-2.

§ 30. V. THOMAS HOCCLEVE: THE LETTER OF CUPID.

This poem needs little discussion. It is known to be Hoccleve's; see Dr.

Furnivall's edition of Hoccleve's Minor Poems, E. E. T. S., 1892, p. 72. As

explained in the notes, it is rather closely imitated from the French poem

entitled L'Epistre au Dieu d'Amours, written by Christine de Pisan. At the

end of her poem, Christine gives the date of its composition, viz. 1399;

and Hoccleve, in like manner, gives the date of his poem as 1402. The poem

consists of sixty-eight stanzas, of which not more than eighteen are wholly

independent of the original. The chief original passages are ll. 176-189,

316-329, and 374-434.

The poem is entirely occupied with a defence of women, such as a woman

might well make. It takes the form of a reproof, addressed by Cupid to all

male lovers; and is directed, in particular, against the sarcasms of Jean

de Meun (l. 281) in the celebrated Roman de la Rose.

Of this poem there are several MS. copies; see footnotes at p. 217. The

best is probably the Ashburnham MS., but it has not yet been printed. I

chiefly follow MS. Fairfax 16, which Dr. Furnivall has taken as the basis

of his text.

There is also a poor and late copy in the Bannatyne MS., at fol. 269; see

the print of it for the Hunterian Club, 1879; p. 783.

§ 31. VI. THE SAME: TWO BALADES.

These two Balades, also by Hoccleve, were composed at the same time. The

former is addressed to King Henry V, and the latter to the Knights of the

Garter. They are very closely connected with a much longer poem of 512

lines, which was addressed to Sir John Oldcastle in August, 1415; and must

have been written at about that date. It was natural enough that, whilst

addressing his appeal to Oldcastle to renounce his heresies, the poet

should briefly address the king on the same subject at the same time. I

think we may safely date this piece, like the other, in August, 1415.

The remarkable likeness between the two pieces appears most in the

references to Justinian and to Constantine. In fact, the reference to

Justinian in l. 3 of the former of the Balades here printed would be

unintelligible but for the full explanation which the companion poem

affords. I have quoted, in the note to l. 3, the Latin note which is

written in the margin of st. 24 of the address to Oldcastle; and I quote

here the stanza itself:--

'The Cristen emperour Justinian,

As it is writen, who-so list it see,

Made a lawe deffending every man,

Of what condicion or what degree

That he were of, nat sholde hardy be

For to despute of the feith openly;

And ther-upon sundry peynes sette he,

That peril sholde eschuëd be therby.'

Minor Poems, ed. Furnivall, p. 14.

Compare with this the fourth stanza of Balade I.

We may regret that Hoccleve's desire to make an example of heretics was so

soon fulfilled. Only three years later, in Dec. 1418, Sir John Oldcastle

was captured in Wales, brought up to London, and publicly burnt.

My text follows the sole good MS. (Phillipps 8151); which I have collated

with the earliest printed text, that of 1542. There is, indeed, another MS.

copy of the poem in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge (R. 3. 15);

but it is only a late copy made from the printed book.

§ 32. VII. HENRY SCOGAN: A MORAL BALADE.

The heading to this poem is from MS. Ashmole 59; it is, unfortunately,

somewhat obscure. It is, of course, not contemporaneous with the poem, but

was added, by way of note, by John Shirley, when transcribing it. In fact,

the third son of Henry IV was not created duke of Bedford till 1415, after

the accession of Henry V; whereas Henry V is here referred to as being

still 'my lord the Prince.' Hence the poem was written in the reign of

Henry IV (1399-1413); but we can easily come much nearer than this to the

true date. We may note, first of all, that Chaucer is referred to as being

dead (l. 65); so that the date is after 1400. Again, the poem does not

appear to have been recited by the author; it was _sent_, in the author's

handwriting, to the assembled guests (l. 3). Further, Scogan says that he

was 'called' the 'fader,' i.e. tutor, of the young princes (l. 2); and that

he sent the letter to them out of fervent regard for their welfare, in

order to warn them (l. 35). He regrets that sudden age has come upon him

(l. 10), and wishes to impart to them the lessons which the approach of old

age suggests. All this points to a time when Scogan was getting past his

regular work as tutor, though he still retained the title; which suggests a

rather late date. We find, however, from the Inquisitiones post Mortem

(iii. 315), that Henry Scogan died in 1407, and I have seen it noted (I

forget where) that he only attained the age of forty-six. This shews that

he was only relatively old, owing, probably, to infirm health; and we may

safely date the poem in 1406 or 1407, the latter being the more likely. In

1407, the ages of the young princes were nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, and

sixteen respectively, and it is not likely that Scogan had been their tutor

for more than twelve years at most. This provisional date of 1407

sufficiently satisfies all the conditions.

The four sons of Henry IV were Henry, prince of Wales, born at Monmouth in

1388; Thomas, born in 1389, and created duke of Clarence in 1412; John,

born in 1390, created duke of Bedford in 1415; and Humphrey, born in 1391,

created duke of Gloucester in 1414.

§ 33. The expression _at a souper of feorthe merchande_ is difficult, and I

can only guess at the sense. _Feorthe_ is Shirley's spelling of _ferthe_,

i.e. fourth. _Merchande_ is probably equivalent to O.F. _marchandie_ or

_marchandise_. Godefroy gives an example of the latter in the sense of

'merchant's company.' I suppose that _feorthe merchande_ means 'fourth

meeting of merchants,' or the fourth of the four quarterly meetings of a

guild. Toulmin Smith, in his English Gilds, p. 32, says that quarterly

meetings for business were common; though some guilds met only once, twice,

or thrice in the course of a year.

The Vintry is described by Stow in his Survey of London (ed. Thoms, p. 90):

'Then next over against St. Martin's church, is a large house built of

stone and timber, with vaults for the stowage of wines, and is called the

Vintry.... In this house Henry Picard [lord mayor in 1356-7] feasted four

kings in one day.'

I need not repeat here what I have already said about Scogan in vol. i. p.

83.

I may add to the note about Lewis John (vol. i. p. 84), that he was a

person of some note. In 1423 (Feb. 8), 'Ludowicus Johan, armiger,

constitutus est seneschall et receptor generalis ducatus Cornub.': see

Ordinances of the Privy Council, iii. 24. He is further mentioned in the

same, ii. 334, 342.

Chaucer's Balade on Gentilesse, quoted in full in ll. 105-125, is in

seven-line stanzas; and is thus distinguished from the rest of the poem,

which is written in eight-line stanzas. It may be noted that Scogan's rimes

are extremely correct, if we compare them with Chaucer's as a standard.

Of this piece there are two early printed copies, one by Caxton, and one by

Thynne (1532); and two MSS., Ashmole 59 and Harl. 2251. It is remarkable

that the printed copies are better than the MSS. as regards readings.

§ 34. VIII. THE COMPLAINT OF THE BLACK KNIGHT.

Such is the title in Thynne's edition (1532). In MS. F. (Fairfax 16), it is

entitled--'Complaynte of a Loveres Lyfe'; and there is a printed edition

with the title--'The Complaynte of a Louers Lyfe. Imprynted at London in

the flete strete at the sygne of the Sonne, by Wynkyn de Worde'; no date,

4to. on twelve leaves. In MS. S. (Arch. Selden, B. 24), there is an

erroneous colophon--'Here endith the Maying and disporte of Chaucere';

which gives the wrong title, and assigns it to the wrong author. In

accordance with the last MS., it was printed, with the erroneous

title--'Here begynnys the mayng or disport of chaucer'--in a volume

'Imprentit in the south gait of Edinburgh be Walter chepman and Androw

myllar the fourth day of ap_er_ile the yhere of god . M.CCCCC. and viii

yheris' [1508]; and this scarce copy was reprinted as piece no. 8 in The

Knightly Tale of Golagrus and Gawane, &c., as reprinted by Laing in 1827.

But the fullest title is that in MS. Ad. (Addit. 16165), written out by

John Shirley, who says: 'And here filowyng begynnethe a Right lusty amorous

balade, made in wyse of a complaynt of a Right worshipfull_e_ Knyght that

truly euer serued his lady, enduryng grete disese by fals envye and

malebouche; made by Lydegate' (fol. 190, back). Some of the pages have the

heading, 'The compleynte of a Knight made by Lidegate[17].'

This attribution of the poem to Lydgate, by so good a judge as Shirley,

renders the authorship certain; and the ascription is fully confirmed by

strong internal evidence. Much of it is in Lydgate's best manner, and his

imitation of Chaucer is, in places, very close; while, at the same time, it

is easy to point out non-Chaucerian rimes, such as _whyte_, _brighte_, 2;

_pitously_, _malady_ (Ch. _maladyë_), 137; _felyngly_, _malady_, 188;

_mente_, _diligent_, 246; _grace_, _alas_, 529; _seyn_, _payn_ (Ch.

_peynë_), 568; _diurnal_, _fal_, (Ch. _falle_), 590; _payn_, _agayn_, 650;

_queen_ (Ch. _quene_), _seen_, 674. Besides which, there are two mere

assonances in two consecutive stanzas, viz. _forjuged_, _excused_, 274; and

_wreke_, _clepe_, 284. The occurrence of this pair of assonances is quite

enough to settle the question. If we apply a more delicate test, we may

observe that, in ll. 218-220, the word _s[=o]re_ (with long _o_) rimes with

_tore_, in which the _o_ was originally short; on this point, see vol. vi.

p. xxxii.

As to this poem, Ten Brink well remarks: 'His talent was fairly qualified

for a popular form of the 'Complaint'--a sort of long monologue, interwoven

with allegory and mythology, and introduced by a charming picture of

nature. His _Complaint of the Black Knight_, which contains reminiscences

from the Romance of the Rose, the Book of the Duchesse, and the Parlement

of Foules, was long considered a production of Chaucer's, and is still

frequently included in editions of his works--although with reservations.

The critic, however, will not be deceived by the excellent descriptive

passages of this poem, but will easily detect the characteristic marks of

the imitator in the management of verse and rhyme, and especially in the

diffusiveness of the story and the monotony even of the most important

parts.'

§ 35. Lydgate's reminiscences of Chaucer are often interesting. In

particular, we should observe the passages suggested by the Roman de la

Rose in ll. 36-112; for we are at once reminded of Chaucer's _own version_

of it, as preserved in Fragment A of the Romaunt. After noticing that he

uses _costey_ (36) for the F. _costoiant_, where Chaucer has _costeying_

(134); and _attempre_ (57) where Chaucer has _attempre_ (131), though one

French text has _atrempee_, it is startling to find him reproducing (80)

Chaucer's very phrase _And softe as veluët_ (R. R. 1420), where the French

original has nothing corresponding either to _soft_ or to _velvet_! This

clearly shews that Lydgate was acquainted with Fragment A of the English

version, and believed that version to be Chaucer's; for otherwise he would

hardly have cared to imitate it at all.

The date of this poem is discussed in the Introduction to Schick's edition

of the Temple of Glas, by the same author; pp. c, cxii. He dates it in

Lydgate's early period, or about A.D. 1402.

The text is based upon Thynne's edition, which is quite as good as the

MSS., though the spellings are often too late in form. The late excellent

edition by E. Krausser (Halle, 1896) reached me after my text was printed.

His text (from MS. F.) has much the same readings, and is accompanied by a

full Introduction and eleven pages of useful notes.

§ 36. IX. THE FLOUR OF CURTESYE.

This piece has no author's name prefixed to it in the first three editions;

but in the fourth edition by Stowe, printed in 1561, the title is: 'The

Floure of Curtesie, made by Iohn lidgate.' Probably Stowe had seen it

attributed to him in some MS., and made a note of it; but I know of no MS.

copy now extant.

Few poems bear Lydgate's impress more clearly; there can be no doubt as to

its authorship. Schick refers it to Lydgate's early period, and dates it

about 1400-1402; see his edition of the Temple of Glas, p. cxii. As it was

written after Chaucer's death (see l. 236), and probably when that sad loss

was still recent, we cannot be far wrong if we date it about 1401; and the

Black Knight, a somewhat more ambitious effort, about 1402.

The 'Flour of Curtesye' is intended as a portrait of one whom the poet

honours as the best of womankind. The character is evidently founded on

that of Alcestis as described in the Prologue to the Legend of Good Women;

and throughout the piece we are frequently reminded of Chaucer; especially

of the Legend, the Complaint of Mars, and the Parliament of Foules.

The Envoy presents a very early example of the four-line stanza, similar to

that employed in Gray's famous Elegy.

§ 37. X. A BALADE IN COMMENDATION OF OUR LADY.

This piece is attributed to 'Lidegate of Bury' in the Ashmole MS. no. 59;

and the ascription is obviously correct. It abounds with evident marks of

his peculiar style of metre; for which see Schick's Introduction to the

Temple of Glas, p. lvi. We note in it a few reminiscences of Chaucer, as

pointed out in the Notes; in particular, it was probably suggested by

Chaucer's A B C, which furnished hints for ll. 27, 60, and 129. It is

perhaps worth while to add that we have thus an independent testimony for

the genuineness of that poem.

As an illustration of Lydgate's verse, I may notice the additional syllable

after the cæsura, which too often clogs his lines. Thus in l. 8 we must

group the syllables thus:--

Wherefór : now pláynly : I wól : my stýlë : dréssë. Similarly, we find

_lícour_ in l. 13, _pítè_ (18), _líving_ (24), _bémës_ (25), _gínning_

(31), _mércy_ (33), _gárden_ (36), &c., all occupying places where a

monosyllable would have been more acceptable.

The poem is strongly marked by alliteration, shewing that the poet (usually

in a hurry) took more than usual pains with it. In the seventh stanza

(43-49) this tendency is unmistakably apparent.

It is hardly possible to assign a date to a poem of this character. I can

only guess it to belong to the middle period of his career; say, the reign

of Henry V. We have not yet obtained sufficient data for the arrangement of

Lydgate's poems.

§ 38. Lines 121-127 are here printed for the first time. In the old

editions, l. 120 is succeeded by l. 128, with the result that _Sion_ (120)

would not rime with _set afere_ (129); but the scribe of the Ashmole MS.

was equal to the emergency, for he altered l. 129 so as to make it end with

_fuyrless thou sette vppon_, which is mere nonsense. Thynne has _fyrelesse

fyre set on_, which is just a little better.

This addition of seven lines was due to my fortunate discovery of a new

MS.; for which I was indebted to the excellent MS. 'Index of First Lines'

in the British Museum. This told me that a poem (hitherto unrecognised)

existed in MS. Sloane 1212, of which the first line is 'A thousand

stories,' &c. On examining the MS., it turned out to be a copy, on paper,

of Hoccleve's De Regimine Principum, with four leaves of vellum at the

beginning, and two more at the end, covered with writing of an older

character. The two vellum leaves at the end were then transposed, but have

since been set right, at my suggestion. They contain a few lines of the

conclusion of some other piece, followed by the unique _complete_ copy of

the present Balade. This copy turned out to be much the best, and restored

several of the readings. Indeed, the Ashmole MS. is very imperfect, having

in it a lacuna of eight stanzas (ll. 64-119). I am thus able to give quite

a presentable text.

The correction that most interested me was one in l. 134, where the Ashmole

MS. and Thynne have _probatyf piscyne_. On June 5, 1896, I read a paper at

the Philological Society, in which (among other things) I pointed out that

the right reading must certainly be _probatik_. The very next day I found

the Sloane MS.; and behold, its reading was _probatyk_! It is not often

that a 'conjectural emendation' is confirmed, on unimpeachable authority,

within twenty-four hours.

Another remarkable correction is that of _dyamaunt_ for _dyametre_ in l.

87. It was all very well to compare Our Lady to a diamond; but to call her

a _diameter_ (as in all the editions) is a little too bad. Again, in l. 121

(now first printed) we have the remarkable expression _punical pome_ for a

pomegranate, which is worthy of notice; and in l. 123 we find a new word,

_agnelet_, which is not to be found in the New English Dictionary.

All the printed editions print the next piece as if it _formed a part_ of

the present one; but they have absolutely no point in common beyond the

fact of having a common authorship.

§ 39. XI. TO MY SOVERAIN LADY.

In all the old editions, this piece forms part of the preceding, though it

is obviously distinct from it, when attention is once drawn to the fact.

Instead of being addressed, like no. X, to the Virgin, it is addressed to a

lady whose name the poet wishes to commend (l. 7); and from whom he is

parted (51); whereas two lovers ought to be together, if they wish to live

'well merry' (64). Her goodly fresh face is a merry mirror (73); and he has

chosen her as his Valentine (111).

It is evidently a conventional complimentary poem, written to please some

lady of rank or of high renown (93), one, in fact, who is 'of women chief

princesse' (70). It is prettily expressed, and does Lydgate some credit,

being a favourable specimen of his more playful style; I wish we had more

of the same kind. L. 68--'Let him go love, and see wher [_whether_] it be

game'--is excellent.

I shall here submit to the reader a pure guess, for what it is worth. My

impression is that this piece, being a complimentary Valentine, was

suggested by queen Katherine's visit to England; the lover whose passion is

here described being no other than king Henry V, who was parted from his

queen for a week. The pair arrived at Dover on Feb. 2, 1421, and Henry went

on to London, arriving on Feb. 14; the queen did not arrive till Feb. 21,

just in time for her coronation on Feb. 23.

This hypothesis satisfies several conditions. It explains why the lover's

_English_ is not good enough to praise the lady; why so many French lines

are quoted; the significant allusion to the lily, i.e. the lily of France,

in l. 16; the lover's consolation found in English roundels (40); the

expression 'cheef princesse' in l. 70; and the very remarkable exclamation

of _Salve, regina_, in l. 83, which doubtless made Thynne imagine that the

poem was addressed to the Virgin Mary. The expression 'for your departing'

in l. 105 does not necessarily mean 'on account of your departure from me';

it is equally in accordance with Middle-English usage to suppose that it

means 'on account of your separation from me'; see _Depart_ and _Departing_

in the New English Dictionary.

It is well known that Lydgate provided the necessary poetry for the entry

of Henry VI into London in Feb. 1432.

Some resemblances to Chaucer are pointed out in the Notes. The most

interesting circumstance about this poem is that the author quotes, at the

end of his third stanza, the first line of 'Merciles Beautè'; this is a

strong point in favour of the attribution of that poem to his master.

This piece is distinguished from the preceding by the difference of its

subject; by the difference in the character of the metre (there is here no

alliteration); and, most significant of all, by its absence from MS.

Ashmole 59 and MS. Sloane 1212, both of which contain the preceding piece.

The two poems may have been brought together, in the MS. which Thynne

followed, by the accident of being written about the same time.

§ 40. XII. BALLAD OF GOOD COUNSEL.

The title of this piece in Stowe's edition stands as follows: 'A balade of

good counseile, translated out of Latin verses into Englishe, by dan Iohn

lidgat cleped the monke of Buri.' What were the Latin verses here referred

to, I have no means of ascertaining.

This Ballad is eminently characteristic of Lydgate's style, and by no means

the worst of its kind. When he once gets hold of a refrain that pleases

him, he canters merrily along till he has absolutely no more to say. I

think he must have enjoyed writing it, and that he wrote it to please

himself.

He transgresses one of Chaucer's canons in ll. 79-82; where he rimes

_hardy_ with _foly_ and _flatery_. The two latter words are, in Chaucer,

_foly-ë_ and _flatery-ë_, and never rime with a word like _hardy_, which

has no final _-e_.

Lydgate is very fond of what may be called _catalogues_; he begins by

enumerating every kind of possibility. You may be rich, or strong, or

prudent, &c.; or fair (22) or ugly (24); you may have a wife (29), or you

may not (36); you may be fat (43), or you may be lean (46); or staid (57),

or holy (64); your dress may be presentable (71), or poor (72), or middling

(73); you may speak much (78) or little (80); and so on; for it is hard to

come to an end. At l. 106, he begins all over again with womankind; and the

conclusion is, that you should govern your tongue, and never listen to

slander.

Thynne's text is not very good; the MSS. are somewhat better. He makes the

odd mistake of printing _Holynesse beautie_ for _Eleynes beaute_ (115); but

Helen had not much to do with holiness. Two of the stanzas (71-7 and

106-112) are now printed for the first time, as they occur in the MSS.

only. Indeed, MS. H. (Harl. 2251) is the sole authority for the former of

these two stanzas.

§ 41. XIII. BEWARE OF DOUBLENESS.

This is a favourable example of Lydgate's better style; and is written with

unusual smoothness, owing to the shortness of the lines. It was first

printed in 1561. There is a better copy in the Fairfax MS., which has been

taken as the basis of the text. The copy in MS. Ashmole 59 is very poor.

The title--'Balade made by Lydgate'--occurs in MS. Addit. 16165. Stowe,

being unacquainted with the phrase _ambes as_ (l. 78), though it occurs in

Chaucer, turned _ambes_ into _lombes_, after which he wrongly inserted a

comma; and _lombes_ appears, accordingly, in all former editions, with a

comma after it. What sense readers have hitherto made of this line, I am at

a loss to conjecture.

§ 42. XIV. A BALADE: WARNING MEN, ETC.

First printed by Stowe in 1561, from the MS. in Trinity College Library,

marked R. 3. 19, which I have used in preference to the printed edition.

There is another, and more complete copy in the same library, marked O. 9.

38, which has contributed some excellent corrections. Moreover, it gives a

better arrangement of stanzas three and four, which the old editions

transpose. More than this, it contains a unique stanza (36-42), which has

not been printed before.

The poem also occurs in Shirley's MS. Harl. 2251, which contains a large

number of poems by Lydgate; and is there followed by another poem of seven

stanzas, attributed to Lydgate. That the present poem is Lydgate's, cannot

well be doubted; it belongs to the same class of his poems as no. XII

above. I find it attributed to him in the reprint of 'Chaucer's Poems' by

Chalmers, in 1810.

The substitution of the contracted and idiomatic form _et_ for the later

form _eteth_ is a great improvement. It is due to MS. O. 9. 38, where the

scribe first wrote _ette_, but was afterwards so weak as to 'correct' it to

_etyth_. But this 'correction' just ruins the refrain. _Et_ was no doubt

becoming archaic towards the middle of the fifteenth century.

Two variations upon the last stanza occur in the Bannatyne MS., fol. 258,

back; see the print by the Hunterian Club, 1879, pp. 754, 755.

§ 43. XV. THREE SAYINGS.

First printed by Stowe; I know of no MS. copy. The first two Sayings are

attributed to Lydgate; so we may as well credit him with the third. The

second expresses the same statements as the first, but varies somewhat in

form; both are founded upon a Latin line which occurs in MS. Fairfax 16

(fol. 196) and in MS. Harl. 7578 (fol. 20), and runs as follows:--'Quatuor

infatuant, honor, etas, femina, uinum.'

Note that these Three Sayings constitute the _only_ addition made by Stowe

to Thynne in 'Part I' of Stowe's edition. See nos. 28, 29, 30 in vol. i. p.

32. Stowe introduced them _in order to fill a blank half-column_ between

nos. 27 and 31.

§ 44. XVI. LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCY.

First printed in Thynne's Chaucer (1532). Tyrwhitt first pointed out that

it could not possibly be his, seeing that Alan Chartier's poem with the

same name, whence the English version was made, could not have been written

in Chaucer's lifetime. Chartier was born in 1386, and was only fourteen

years old at the time of Chaucer's death. Tyrwhitt further stated that the

author's name, Sir Richard Ros, was plainly given in MS. Harl. 372, fol.

61, where the poem has this title:--'La Belle Dame Sanz Mercy. Translatid

out of Frenche by Sir Richard Ros.' I have not been able to find the date

of the French original, as there is no modern edition of Chartier's poems;

but it can hardly have been written before 1410, when the poet was only

twenty-four years old; and the date of the translation must be later still.

But we are not wholly left to conjecture in this matter. A short notice of

Sir Richard Ros appeared in Englische Studien, X. 206, written by H.

Gröhler, who refers us to his dissertation 'Ueber Richard Ros'

mittelenglische übersetzung des gedichtes von Alain Chartier La Belle Dame

sans Mercy,' published at Breslau in 1886; of which Dr. Gröhler has most

obligingly sent me a copy, whence several of my Notes have been derived. He

tells us, in this article, that his dissertation was founded on the copy of

the poem in MS. Harl. 372, which (in 1886) he believed to be unique;

whereas he had since been informed that there are three other MSS., viz.

Camb. Ff. 1. 6, Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 3. 19, and Fairfax 16; and further,

that the Trinity MS. agrees with the Harleian as to misarrangement of the

subject-matter[18]. He also proposed to give a new edition of the poem in

Englische Studien, but I am unable to find it; and Dr. Kölbing courteously

informs me that it never appeared.

Dr. Gröhler further tells us, that Mr. Joseph Hall, of Manchester, had sent

him some account, extracted from the county history of Leicestershire by

Nichols, of the family of Roos or Ros, who were lords of Hamlake and

Belvoir in that county. According to Nichols, the Sir Richard Ros who was

presumably the poet, was the second son of Sir Thomas Ros; and Sir Thomas

was the second son of Sir W. Ros, who married Margaret, daughter of Sir

John Arundel. If this be right, we gain the further information that Sir

Richard was born in 1429[19], and is known to have been alive in 1450, when

he was twenty-one years old.

The dates suit very well, as they suggest that the English poem was

written, probably, between 1450 and 1460, or at the beginning of the second

half of the fifteenth century; which sufficiently agrees with the language

employed and with the probable age of the MSS. The date assigned in the New

English Dictionary, s.v. _Currish_, is 1460; which cannot be far wrong. It

can hardly be much later.

§ 45. The above notice also suggests that, as Sir Richard Ros was of a

Leicestershire family, the dialect of the piece may, originally at least,

have been North Leicestershire. Belvoir is situate in the N.E. corner of

Leicestershire, not far from Grantham in Lincolnshire, and at no great

distance from the birthplace of Robert of Brunne. It is well known that

Robert of Brunne wrote in a variety of the Midland dialect which coincides,

to a remarkable extent, with the form of the language which has become the

standard literary English. Now it is easily seen that La Belle Dame has the

same peculiarity, and I venture to think that, on this account, it is worth

special attention. If we want to see a specimen of what the Midland

literary dialect was like in the middle of the fifteenth century, it is

here that we may find it. Many of the stanzas are, in fact, remarkably

modern, both in grammar and expression; we have only to alter the spelling,

and there is nothing left to explain. Take for example the last stanza on

p. 301 (ll. 77-84):--

'In this great thought, sore troubled in my mind,

Alone thus rode I all the morrow-tide,

Till, at the last, it happèd me to find

The place wherein I cast me to abide

When that I had no further for to ride.

And as I went my lodging to purvey,

Right soon I heard, but little me beside,

In a gardén, where minstrels gan to play.'

A large number of stanzas readily lend themselves to similar treatment; and

this is quite enough to dissociate the poem from Chaucer. The great

difficulty about modernising Chaucer is, as every one knows, his use of the

final _-e_ as a distinct syllable; but we may search a whole page of La

Belle Dame without finding anything of the kind. When Sir Richard's words

have an extra syllable, it is due to the suffix _-es_ or the suffix _-ed_;

and even these are not remarkably numerous; we do not arrive at _cloth-ës_,

a plural in _-es_, before l. 22; and, in the course of the first four

stanzas, all the words in _-ed_ are _awak-ed_, _nak-ed_, _vex-ed_,

_tourn-ed_, and _bold-ed_, none of which would be surprising to a student

of Elizabethan poetry. That there was something of a Northern element in

Sir Richard's language appears from the rime of _long-es_ with _song-es_,

in ll. 53-55; where _longes_ is the third person singular of the present

tense; but modern English has _belongs_, with the same suffix! Again, he

constantly uses the Northern possessive pronoun _their_; but modern English

does the same!

§ 46. Another remarkable point about the poem is the perfect smoothness and

regularity of the metre in a large number of lines, even as judged by a

modern standard. The first line--'Half in a dream, not fully well

awaked'--might, from a metrical point of view, have been written yesterday.

It is a pity that the poem is somewhat dull, owing to its needless

prolixity; but this is not a little due to Alan Chartier. Sir Richard has

only eight stanzas of his own, four at the beginning, and four at the end;

and it is remarkable that these are in the seven-line stanza, while the

rest of the stanzas have eight lines, like their French original, of which

I here give the first stanza, from the Paris edition of 1617, p. 502. (See

l. 29 of the English version.)

'N'agueres cheuauchant pensoye,

Comme homme triste et douloreux,

Au dueil où il faut que ie soye

Le plus dolant des amoureux;

Puisque par son dart rigoureux

La mort me tolli ma Maistresse,

Et me laissa seul langoureux

En la conduicte de tristesse.'

I have cited in the Notes a few passages of the original text which help to

explain the translation.

§ 47. The text in Thynne is a good one, and it seemed convenient to make it

the basis of the edition; but it has been carefully controlled by collation

with MS. Ff. 1. 6, which is, in some respects, the best MS. I am not sure

that Thynne always followed his MS.; he may have collated some other one,

as he professes in some cases to have done. MS. Ff. 1. 6, the Trinity MS.,

and Thynne's principal MS. form one group, which we may call A; whilst the

Fairfax and Harleian MSS. form a second group, which we may call B: and of

these, group A is the better. The MSS. in group B sadly transpose the

subject-matter, and give the poem in the following order; viz. lines 1-428,

669-716, 525-572, 477-524, 621-668, 573-620, 429-476, 717-856. The cause of

this dislocation is simple enough. It means that the B-group MSS. were

copied from one in which three leaves, each containing six stanzas, were

misarranged. The three leaves were placed one within the other, to form a

sheet, and were written upon. Then the outer pair of these leaves was

turned inside out, whilst the second and third pair changed places. This

can easily be verified by making a little book of six leaves and numbering

each page with the numbers 429-452, 453-476, 477-500, 501-524, &c. (i.e.

with 24 lines on a page, ending with 716), and then misarranging the leaves

in the manner indicated.

The copy in MS. Harl. 372 was printed, just as it stands, by Dr. Furnivall,

in his volume entitled Political, Religious, and Love Poems, published for

the E. E. T. S. in 1866; at p. 52. The text is there, accordingly,

misarranged as above stated.

There is another MS. copy, as has been said above, in MS. Trin. Coll. Camb.

R. 3. 19; but I have not collated it. It seems to be closely related to MS.

Ff., and to present no additional information. Not only do the MSS. of the

A-group contain the text in the right order, but they frequently give the

better readings. Thus, in l. 47, we have the odd line--'My _pen_ coud never

have knowlege what it ment'; as given in MS. Ff., the Trinity MS., and

Thynne. The word _pen_ is altered to _eyen_ in MSS. H. and F.;

nevertheless, it is perfectly right, for the French original has _plume_;

see the Note on the line. Other examples are given in the Notes.

In l. 174, MS. Ff. alone has the right reading, _apert_. I had made up my

mind that this was the right reading even before consulting that MS.,

because the old reading--'One wyse nor other, prevy nor _perte_'--is so

extremely harsh. There is no sense in using the clipped form of the word

when the true _and usual_ form will scan so much better. See C. T., F 531,

Ho. Fame, 717. The Trinity MS. gets out of the difficulty by a material

alteration of the line, so that it there becomes--'In any wyse, nether

preuy nor perte.'

§ 48. XVII. THE TESTAMENT OF CRESSEID.

I do not suppose this was ever supposed to be Chaucer's even by Thynne.

Line 64--'Quha wait gif all that Chaucer wrait was trew?'--must have

settled the question from the first. No doubt Thynne added it simply as a

pendant to Troilus, and he must have had a copy before him in the Northern

dialect, which he modified as well as he could. Nevertheless, he gives us

_can_ for the Southern _gan_ in l. 6, _wrate_ for _wrote_ in l. 64, and has

many similar Northern forms.

The poem was printed at Edinburgh in 1593 with the author's name. The title

is as follows--¶ THE TESTAMENT OF CRESSEID, Compylit be M. Robert

Henrysone, Sculemai-ster in Dunfermeling. IMPRENTIT AT EDIN = burgh be

Henrie Charteris. MD. XCIII. The text is in 4to, ten leaves, black-letter.

Only one copy has been preserved, which is now in the British Museum; but

it was reprinted page for page in the volume presented by Mr. Chalmers to

the Bannatyne Club in 1824. The present edition is from this reprint, with

very few modifications, such as _sh_ for _sch_, and final _-y_ for final

_-ie_ in immaterial cases. All other modifications are accounted for in the

footnotes below. No early MS. copy is known; there was once a copy in the

Asloan MS., but the leaves containing it are lost.

Thynne's print must have been a good deal altered from the original, to

make it more intelligible. It is odd to find him altering _quhisling_ (20)

to _whiskyng_, and _ringand_ (144) to _tynkyng_. I note all Thynne's

variations that are of any interest. He must have been much puzzled by

_aneuch in_ (which he seems to have regarded as one word and as a past

participle) before he turned it into _enewed_ (110). But in some cases

Thynne gives us real help, as I will now point out.

In l. 48, E. (the Edinburgh edition) has--'Quhill Esperus reioisit him

agane'; where _Esperus_ gives no good sense. But Thynne prints _esperous_,

which at once suggests _esperans_ (hope), as opposed to _wanhope_ in the

preceding line.

In l. 155, E. has _frosnit_, which Laing interprets 'frozen,' as if the pp.

of _freeze_ could have both a strong and weak pp. suffix at the same

moment! But Thynne has _frounsed_, evidently put for _fronsit_, as used

elsewhere by Henryson in The Fable of the Paddock and the Mous, l.

43:--'The Mous beheld unto her _fronsit_ face.' A printer's error of _sn_

for _ns_ is not surprising.

In ll. 164, 178, 260, E. has _gyis_ or _gyse_; but Thynne has preserved the

true Chaucerian word _gyte_, which the printer evidently did not

understand. It is true that in l. 164 he turned it into _gate_; but when he

found it recur, he let it alone.

In l. 205, E. has _upricht_ (!); which Thynne corrects.

In l. 290, Th. has _iniure_ for _iniurie_, and I think he is right, though

I have let _injurie_ stand; _iniure_ is Chaucer's form (Troil. iii. 1018),

and it suits the scansion better.

In l. 382, Thynne corrects _Unto_ to _To_; and in l. 386, has _Beuer_ for

_bawar_. In l. 441, he has _syder_ for _ceder_. In l. 501, he has _plyte_

for _plye_, where a letter may have dropped out in E.; but see the note (p.

525). In l. 590, his reading _tokenyng_ suggests that _takning_ (as in E.)

should be _takining_ or _takinning_; the line will then scan. The

contracted form _taikning_ occurs, however, in l. 232, where the word is

less emphatic.

Note further, that in l. 216 the original must have had _Philogoney_ (see

the Note). This appears in the astonishing forms _Philologie_ (E.), and

_Philologee_ (Th.). Laing prints _Phlegonie_, which will neither scan nor

rime, without any hint that he is departing from his exemplar. All his

corrections are made silently, so that one cannot tell where they occur

without reference to the original.

For further information concerning Robert Henryson, schoolmaster of

Dunfermline, see the preface to David Laing's edition of The Poems and

Fables of Robert Henryson, Edinburgh, 1865; and Morley's English Writers,

1890, vol. vi. p. 250. He is supposed to have been born about 1425, and to

have died about 1500. On Sept. 10, 1462, the Venerable Master Robert

Henrysone, Licentiate in Arts and Bachelor in Decrees, was incorporated or

admitted a member of the newly founded university of Glasgow; and he is

known to have been a notary public. Perhaps The Testament of Cresseid was

written about 1460. It is a rather mature performance, and is his best

piece. Perhaps it is the best piece in the present volume.

§ 49. XVIII. THE CUCKOO AND THE NIGHTINGALE.

Of this piece there are several MSS., which fall into two main classes:

(A)--Ff. (Ff. 1. 6, in the Camb. Univ. Library); T. (Tanner 346); Th. (MS.

used by Thynne, closely allied to T.); and (B)--F. (Fairfax 16), and B.

(Bodley 638), which are closely allied. There is also S. (Selden, B. 24)

imperfect, which has readings of its own[20]. Of these groups, A is the

better, and MS. Ff. is, in some respects, the most important. Nevertheless,

MS. Ff. has never been collated hitherto, so that I am able to give a

somewhat improved text. For example, in all former editions lines 12 and 13

are transposed. In l. 180, the reading _haire_ (as in Bell and Morris) is

somewhat comic (see the Note). In l. 203, MS. Ff. restores the true reading

_hit_, i.e. hitteth. Bell, by some accident, omits the stanza in which this

word occurs. In vol. i. p. 39, I took occasion to complain of the riming of

_now_ with _rescow-e_ in ll. 228-9, according to Bell. The right reading,

however, is not _now_, but _avow-e_, which rimes well enough. MS. Selden

has _allowe_, which Morris follows, though it is clearly inferior and is

unsupported. On the other hand, MS. Selden correctly, and alone, has _leve_

in l. 237; but the confusion between _e_ and _o_ is endless, so that the

false reading _loue_ creates no surprise.

This poem is very interesting, and has deservedly been a favourite one. It

is therefore a great pleasure to me to have found the author's name. This

is given at the end of the poem in MS. Ff. (the best MS., but hitherto

neglected), where we find, in firm distinct letters, in the same

handwriting as the poem itself, the remark--EXPLICIT CLANVOWE. Remembering

that the true title of the poem is 'The Book of Cupid, God of Love[21],' I

applied to Dr. Furnivall, asking him if he had met with the name. He at

once referred me to his preface to Hoccleve's Works, p. x, where Sir John

Clanvowe and Thomas Hoccleve are both mentioned in the same document (about

A.D. 1385). But Sir John Clanvowe died in 1391, and therefore could not

have imitated the title of Hoccleve's poem, which was not written till

1402. Our poet was probably Sir Thomas Clanvowe, concerning whom several

particulars are known, and who must have been a well-known personage at the

courts of Richard II and Henry IV. We learn from Wylie's Hist. of Henry IV,

vol. iii. p. 261, that he was one of twenty-five knights who accompanied

John Beaufort (son of John of Gaunt) to Barbary in 1390. This Sir Thomas

favoured the opinions of the Lollards, but was nevertheless a friend of

'Prince Hal,' at the time when the prince was still friendly to

freethinkers. He seems to have accompanied the prince in the mountains of

Wales; see Wylie, as above, iii. 333. In 1401, he is mentioned as being one

of 'vi Chivalers' in the list of esquires who were summoned to a council by

king Henry IV; see the Acts of the Privy Council, ed. Nicolas, temp. Henry

IV, p. 162. (It may be noted that Sir John Clanvowe was a witness, in 1385,

to the will of the widow of the Black Prince; see Testamenta Vetusta, ed.

Nicolas.)

§ 50. It now becomes easy to explain the reference to the queen at

Woodstock, which has never yet been accounted for. The poem begins with the

words--'_The God of Love!_ Ah benedicite,' quoted from Chaucer, the title

of the poem being 'The Book of Cupid, _God of Love_,' as has been said; and

this title was imitated from Hoccleve's poem of 1402. But there was no

queen of England after Henry's accession till Feb. 7, 1403, when the king

married Joan of Navarre; and it was she who held as a part of her dower the

manor and park of Woodstock; see Wylie, as above, ii. 284. Hence the

following hypothesis will suit the facts--namely, that the poem, imitating

Chaucer's manner, and having a title imitated from Hoccleve's poem of 1402,

was written by Sir Thomas Clanvowe, who held Lollard opinions[22] and was a

friend (at one time) of Henry of Monmouth. And it was addressed to Joan of

Navarre, Henry's stepmother, queen of England from 1403 to 1413, who held

as a part of her dower the manor of Woodstock. If so, we should expect it

to have been written before April, 1410, when Thomas Badby, the Lollard,

was executed in the presence of the prince of Wales. Further, as it was

probably written early rather than late in this period, I should be

inclined to date it in 1403; possibly in May, as it relates so much to the

time of spring.

I may add that the Clanvowes were a Herefordshire family, from the

neighbourhood of Wigmore. The only remarkable non-Chaucerian word in the

poem is the verb _greden_, to cry out (A.S. _gr[=æ]dan_); a word found in

many dialects, and used by Layamon, Robert of Gloucester, Langland, and

Hoccleve.

The poem is written in a light and pleasing style, which Wordsworth has

fairly reproduced. The final _-e_ is suppressed in _assay-e_ (l. 52). The

non-Chaucerian rimes are few, viz. _gren-e_ and _sen-e_ as riming with

_been_ (61-5), shewing that Clanvowe cut down those dissyllables to _green_

and _seen_. And further, the forms _ron_ and _mon_ are employed, in order

to rime with _upon_ (81-5); whereas Chaucer only has the form _man_; whilst

of _ran_ I remember no example at the end of a line[23].

§ 51. But there is one point about Clanvowe's verse which renders it, for

the fifteenth century, quite unique. In imitating Chaucer's use of the

final _-e_, he employs this suffix with unprecedented freedom, and rather

avoids than seeks elision. This gives quite a distinctive character to his

versification, and is very noticeable when attention has once been drawn to

it. If, for example, we compare it with the Parliament of Foules, which it

most resembles in general character, we find the following results. If, in

the Cuckoo and Nightingale, we observe the first 21 lines, we shall find

(even if we omit the example of _hy-e_ in l. 4, and all the examples of

final _-e_ at the end of a line) the following clear examples of its

use:--_low-e_, _lyk-e_, _hard-e_, _sek-e_, _hol-e_ (twice), _mak-e_,

_hav-e_, _wys-e_, _proud-e_, _grev-e_, _trew-e_, _hert-e_, i.e. 13

examples, besides the 5 examples of final _-en_ in _mak-en_, _bind-en_,

_unbind-en_, _bound-en_, _destroy-en_. But in the first 21 lines of the

Parliament of Foules there are only 2 examples of the final _-e_ in the

middle of a line, viz. _lust-e_ (15) and _long-e_ (21), whilst of the final

_-en_ there is none. The difference between 18 and 2 must strike even the

most inexperienced reader, when it is once brought under his notice.

However, it is an extreme case.

Yet again, if the _last_ 21 lines in the Cuckoo be compared with ll.

659-679 of the Parliament (being the _last_ 21 lines, if we dismiss the

roundel and the stanza that follows it), we find in the former 7 examples

of final _-e_ and 2 of _-en_, or 9 in all, whilst in Chaucer there are 7 of

final _-e_, and 1 of _-en_, or 8 in all; and this also happens to be an

extreme case in the other direction, owing to the occurrence in the former

poem of the words _egle_, _maple_, and _chambre_, which I have not taken

into account.

This suggests that, to make sure, we must compare much longer passages. In

the whole of the Cuckoo, I make about 120 such cases of final _-e_, and 23

such cases of final _-en_, or 143 in all. In 290 lines of the Parliament of

Foules, I make about 68 and 19 such cases respectively; or about 87 in all.

Now the difference between 143 and 87 is surely very marked.

The cause of this result is obvious, viz. that Chaucer makes a more

frequent use of elision. In the first 21 lines of the Parl. of Foules, we

find elisions of _men'_, _sor'_, _wak'_, _oft'_ (twice), _red'_ (twice),

_spek'_, _fast'_, _radd'_; i.e. 10 examples; added to which, Chaucer has

_joy(e)_, _love_, _knowe_, _usage_, _boke_, at the cæsura, and suppresses

the _e_ in _write_ (written). But in ll. 1-21, Clanvowe has (in addition to

_love_, _make_, _lowe_, _make_ (twice), _gladde_ at the cæsura) only 3

examples of true elision, viz. _fressh'_, _tell'_, and _mak'_ (15).

And further, we seldom find _two_ examples of the use of the final _-e_ in

the _same_ line in Chaucer. I do not observe any instance, in the Parl. of

Foules, till we arrive at l. 94:--'Took rest that mad-_e_ me to slep-_e_

faste.' But in Clanvowe they are fairly common. Examples are: Of sek-_e_

folk ful hol-_e_ (7); For every trew-_e_ gentil hert-_e_ free (21); That

any hert-_e_ shuld-_e_ slepy be (44); I went-_e_ forth alon-_e_ bold-e-ly

(59); They coud-_e_ that servyc-_e_ al by rote (71); and the like. In l.

73, we have even _three_ examples in _one_ line; Some song-_e_ loud-_e_, as

they hadd-_e_ playned. From all of which it appears that the critics who

have assigned the Cuckoo to Chaucer have taken no pains whatever to check

their opinion by any sort of analysis. They have trusted to their own mere

opinion, without looking the facts in the face.

§ 52. I will point out yet one more very striking difference. We know that

Chaucer sometimes employs headless lines, such as: Twénty bókes át his

béddes héed. But he does so sparingly, especially in his Minor Poems. But

in the Cuckoo, they are not uncommon; see, e.g. lines 16, 50, 72, 100, 116,

118, 146, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 161, 166, 205, 232, 242, 252,

261, 265, 268. It is true that, in Morris's edition, lines 72, 146, 153,

161, and 205 are slightly altered; but in no case can I find that the

alteration is authorised. And even then, this does not get rid of the _five

consecutive_ examples in ll. 154-158, which cannot be explained away. Once

more, I repeat, the critics have failed to use their powers of observation.

I think the poem may still be admired, even if it be allowed that Clanvowe

wrote it some three years after Chaucer's death.

§ 53. At any rate, it was admired by so good a judge of poetry as John

Milton, who of course possessed a copy of it in the volume which was so

pleasantly called 'The Works of Chaucer.' That his famous sonnet 'To the

Nightingale' owed something to Clanvowe, I cannot doubt. 'Thou with fresh

hope the lover's heart dost fill' is, in part, the older poet's theme; see

ll. 1-30, 149-155, 191-192. Even his first line reminds one of ll. 77, 288.

If Milton writes of May, so does Clanvowe; see ll. 20, 23, 34, 55, 70, 230,

235, 242; note especially l. 230. But the real point of contact is in the

lines--

'Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day,

First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill,

Portend success in love ...

Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate

Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh;

As thou from year to year hast sung too late

For my relief, yet hadst no reason why:

Whether the Muse or Love call thee his mate,

Both them I serve, and of their train am I.'

With which compare:--

'That it were good to here the nightingale

Rather than the lewde cukkow singe': (49).

'A litel hast thou been to longe henne;

For here hath been the lew[e]de cukkow,

And songen songes rather than hast thou': (102).

'Ye, quod she, and be thou not amayed,

Though thou have herd the cukkow er than me.

For, if I live, it shal amended be

The nexte May, if I be not affrayed': (232).

'And I wol singe oon of my songes newe

For love of thee, as loude as I may crye': (247).

'For in this worlde is noon so good servyse

To every wight that gentil is of kinde': (149).

§ 54. XIX. ENVOY TO ALISON.

This piece has always hitherto been printed _without any title_, and is

made to follow The Cuckoo and the Nightingale, as if there were some sort

of connection between them. This is probably because it happens to follow

that poem in the Fairfax and Tanner MSS., and probably did so in the MS.

used by Thynne, which has a striking resemblance to the Tanner MS. However,

the poem is entirely absent from the Cambridge, Selden, and Bodley MSS.,

proving that there is no connection with the preceding poem, from which it

differs very widely in style, in language, and in metre.

I call it an Envoy to Alison. For first, it is an Envoy[24], as it refers

to the author's 'lewd book,' which it recommends to a lady. What the book

is, no one can say; but it may safely be conjectured that it was of no

great value. And secondly, the lady's name was Alison, as shewn by the

acrostic in lines 22-27; and the author has recourse to almost ludicrous

efforts, in order to secure the first four letters of the name.

Briefly, it is a very poor piece; and my chief object in reprinting it is

to shew how unworthy it is of Clanvowe, not to mention Chaucer. We have no

right even to assign it to Lydgate. And its date may be later than 1450.

§ 55. XX. THE FLOWER AND THE LEAF.

This piece many 'critics' would assign to Chaucer, merely because they like

it. This may be sentiment, but it is not criticism; and, after all, a

desire to arrive at the truth should be of more weight with us than

indulgence in ignorant credulity.

It is of some consequence to learn, first of all, that it is hardly

possible to separate this piece from the next. The authoress of one was the

authoress of the other. That The Assembly of Ladies is longer and duller,

and has not held its own in popular estimation, is no sound argument to the

contrary; for it is only partially true. Between the first eleven stanzas

of the Assembly and the first eleven stanzas of the present poem, there is

a strong general resemblance, and not much to choose. Other stanzas of the

Assembly that are well up to the standard of the Flower will be found in

lines 456-490, 511-539. The reason of the general inferiority of the

Assembly lies chiefly in the choice of the subject; it was meant to

interest some medieval household, but it gave small scope for retaining the

reader's attention, and must be held to be a failure.

The links connecting these poems are so numerous that I must begin by

asking the reader to let me denote The Flower and the Leaf by the letter F

(= Flower), and The Assembly of Ladies by the letter A (= Assembly).

The first point is that (with the sole exception of the Nutbrown Maid) no

English poems exist, as far as I remember, written previously to 1500, and

purporting to be written by a woman. In the case of F. and A., this is

assumed throughout. When the author of F. salutes a certain fair lady, the

lady replies--'_My doughter, gramercy_'; 462. And again she says, '_My fair

doughter_'; 467, 500, 547. The author of A. says she was one of five

ladies; 5-7, 407. Again, she was a woman; 18. The author of A. and some

other ladies salute Lady Countenance, who in reply says 'fair sisters';

370. Again, she and others salute a lady-chamberlain, who replies by

calling them 'sisters'; 450; &c.

The poem A. is supposed to be an account of a dream, told by the authoress

to a gentleman; with the exception of this gentleman, all the characters of

the poem are _ladies_; and hence its title. The poem F. is not quite so

exclusive, but it comes very near it; all the principal characters are

ladies, and the chief personages are queens, viz. the queen of the Leaf and

the queen of the Flower. The 'world of ladies' in l. 137 take precedence of

the Nine Worthies, who were merely men. A recognition of this fact makes

the whole poem much clearer.

But the most characteristic thing is the continual reference to colours,

dresses, ornaments, and decorations. In F., we have descriptions of, or

references to, white surcoats, velvet, seams, emeralds, purfils, colours,

sleeves, trains, pearls, diamonds, a fret of gold, chaplets of leaves,

chaplets of woodbine, chaplets of _agnus-castus_, a crown of gold,

thundering trumpets, the treasury of Prester John, white cloaks, chaplets

of oak, banners of Tartary-silk, more pearls, collars, escutcheons,

kings-of-arms, cloaks of white cloth, crowns set with pearls, rubies,

sapphires, and diamonds. Then there is a company all clad in one suit (or

livery); heralds and poursuivants, more chaplets and escutcheons, men in

armour with cloth of gold and horse-trappings, with bosses on their bridles

and peitrels--it is surely needless to go on, though we have only arrived

at l. 246.

In A., we have much the same sort of thing all over again, though it does

not set in before l. 83. Then we meet with blue colours, an embroidered

gown, and a purfil with a device. After a respite, we begin again at l.

206--'Her gown was blue'; and the lady wore a French motto. Diligence tells

the authoress that she looks well in her new blue gown (259). At l. 305,

there is another blue gown, furred with gray, with a motto on the sleeve;

and there are plenty more mottoes to follow. At l. 451 we come to a paved

floor, and walls made of beryl and crystal, engraved with stories; next, a

well-apparelled chair or throne, on five stages, wrought of 'cassidony,'

with four pommels of gold, and set with sapphires; a cloth of estate,

wrought with the needle (486); cloth of gold (521); a blue gown, with

sleeves wrought tabard-wise, of which the collar and the _vent_ (slit in

front of the neck) are described as being like ermine; it was couched with

great pearls, powdered with diamonds, and had sleeves and purfils; then we

come to rubies, enamel, a great balas-ruby, and more of the same kind.

Again, it is useless to go further. Surely these descriptions of seams, and

collars, and sleeves, are due to a woman.

The likeness comes out remarkably in two parallel stanzas. One of them is

from F. 148, and the other from A. 526.

'As grete perles, round and orient,

Diamondes fyne and rubies rede,

And many another stoon, of which I want

The names now; and everich on her hede

A riche fret of gold, which, without drede,

Was ful of statly riche stones set;

And every lady had a chapelet,' &c.

'After a sort the coller and the vent,

Lyk as ermyne is mad in purfeling;

With grete perles, ful fyne and orient,

They were couched, al after oon worching,

With dyamonds in stede of powdering;

The sleves and purfilles of assyse;

They were y-mad [ful] lyke, in every wyse.'

I wonder which the reader prefers; for myself, I have really no choice.

For I do not see how to choose between such lines as these following:--

And on I put my gere and myn array; F. 26.

That ye wold help me on with myn aray; A. 241.

_or_, So than I dressed me in myn aray; A. 253.

As grete perles, round and orient; F. 148.

With grete perles, ful fyne and orient; A. 528.

And forth they yede togider, twain and twain; F. 295.

See how they come togider, twain and twain; A. 350.

So long, alas! and, if that it you plese

To go with me, I shal do yow the ese; F. 391.

And see, what I can do you for to plese,

I am redy, that may be to your ese; A. 447.

I thank you now, in my most humble wyse; F. 567.

We thanked her in our most humble wyse; A. 729.

Besides these striking coincidences in whole lines, there are a large

number of phrases and endings of lines that are common to the two poems;

such as--_the springing of the day_, F. 25, A. 218; _Which, as me thought_,

F. 36, A. 50; _wel y-wrought_, F. 49, A. 165; _by mesure_, F. 58, A. 81; _I

you ensure_, F. 60, 287, A. 52, 199; _in this wyse_, F. 98, A. 589; _I sat

me doun_, F. 118, A. 77; _oon and oon_, F. 144, A. 368, 543, 710; _by and

by_, F. 59, 146, A. 87; _withouten fail_, F. 369, A. 567, 646; _herself

aloon_, F. 458, A. 84; _ful demure_, F. 459, A. 82; _to put in wryting_, F.

589, A. 664; and others that are printed out in the Notes.

Very characteristic of female authorship is the remark that the ladies vied

with each other as to which looked the best; a remark which occurs in

_both_ poems; see F. 188, A. 384.

A construction common to both poems is the use of _very_ with an adjective,

a construction used by Lydgate, but not by Chaucer; examples are _very

rede_, F. 35; _very good_, F. 10, 315; _very round_, A. 479.

It is tedious to enumerate how much these poems have in common. They open

in a similar way, F. with the description of a grove, A. with the

description of a garden with a maze. In the eighth stanza of F., we come to

'a herber that benched was'; and in the seventh stanza of A. we come to a

similar 'herber, mad with benches'; both from The Legend of Good Women.

In F., the authoress has a waking vision of 'a world of ladies' (137); in

A. she sees in a dream the 'assembly of ladies.' In both, she sees an

abundance of dresses, and gems, and bright colours. Both introduce several

scraps of French. In both, the authoress has interviews with allegorical or

visionary personages, who address her either as daughter or sister. I have

little doubt that the careful reader will discover more points of

resemblance for himself.

§ 56. The chief appreciable difference between the two poems is that F. was

probably written considerably earlier than A. This appears from the more

frequent use of the final _-e_, which the authoress occasionally uses as an

archaic embellishment, though she frequently forgets all about it for many

stanzas together. In the former poem (F.) there seem to be about 50

examples, whilst in the latter (A.) there are hardly 10[25]. In almost

every case, it is correctly used, owing, no doubt, to tradition or to a

perusal of older poetry. The most important cases are the abundant ones in

which a final _e_ is omitted where Chaucer would inevitably have inserted

it. For example, such a line as F. 195--From the same grove, where the

ladyes come out--would become, in Chaucer--From the sam-ë grov-ë wher the

ladyes come out--giving at least twelve syllables in the line. The examples

of the omission of final _-e_, where such omission makes a difference to

the scansion, are not very numerous, because many such come before a vowel

(where they might be elided) or at the cæsura (where they might be

tolerated). Still we may note such a case as _green_ in l. 109 where

Chaucer would have written _gren-e_, giving _a fresh gren-ë laurer-tree_,

to the ruin of the scansion. Similar offences against Chaucer's usage are

_herd_ for _herd-e_, 128 (cf. 191); _spek'_ for _spek-e_, 140; _al_ for

_all-e_, plural, 165; _sight_ for _sight-e_, 174; _lyf_ for _lyv-e_, 182;

_sam'_ for _sam-e_, 195; _the tenth_ for _the tenth-e_, 203; _gret_ for

_gret-e_, plural, 214, 225; _red_ for _red-e_, 242; _the worst_ for _the

worst-e_, 255; _yed'_ for _yed-e_, 295, 301; _fast_ for _fast-e_, 304;

_rejoice_ for _rejoy-se_, 313; _noise_ for _nois-e_, 353; _sonn'_ for

_son-ne_, 355, 408; _hir fresh_ for _hir fres-she_, 357; _laft_ for

_laft-e_, pt. t., 364; _their greet_ for _hir gret-e_, 377; _sick_ for

_sek-e_, 410; _about_ for _about-e_, 411; _to soup_ for _to soup-e_, 417;

_without_ for _without-e_, 423, 549; _the hool_ for _the hol-e_, 437; _to

know_ for _to know-e_, 453; _past_ for _pass-ede_ or _past-e_, 465; _My

fair_ for _My fair-e_, vocative, 467, 500; _to tel_ for _to tell-e_, 495;

_nin(e)_ for _nyn-e_, 502; _imagin(e)_ for _imagin-en_, 525; _they last_

for _they last-e_, 562; _thy rud(e)_ for _thy rud-e_, 595. Those who

believe that The Flower and the Leaf was written by Chaucer will have to

explain away every one of these cases; and when they have done so, there is

more to be said.

§ 57. For it is well known that such a word as _sweetly_ (96) was

trisyllabic, as _swet-e-ly_, in Chaucer; C. T., A 221. Similarly, our

authoress has _trewly_ for _trew-e-ly_[26], 130; _richly_ for _rich-e-ly_,

169; _woodbind_ for _wod-e-bind-e_, 485. Similar is _ointments_ for

_oin-e-ments_, 409. And, moreover, our authoress differs from Chaucer as to

other points of grammar. Thus she has _Forshronk_ as a strong pp., 358,

which ought to be _forshronk-en_ or _forshronk-e_. Still more marked is her

use of _rood_ as the _plural_ of the past tense, 449, 454, where Chaucer

has _rid-en_; and her use of _began_ as a plural, 385, where Chaucer has

_bigonn-e_. Can these things be explained away also? If so, there is more

to be said.

§ 58. All the above examples have been made out, without so much as looking

at the rimes. But the rimes are much harder to explain away, where they

differ from Chaucer's. Here are a few specimens.

_Pas-se_ rimes with _was_, 27; so it must have been cut down to _pas_!

Similarly, _hew-e_ has become _hew_; for it rimes with _grew_, sing., 32.

_Sight-e_ has become _sight_, to rime with _wight_, 37. _Brought_ should

rather be _brought-e_, but it rimes with _wrought_, 48. Similar

difficulties occur in _peyn_ (for _peyn-e_), r. w. _seyn_ (62); _syd'_ for

_syd-e_, r. w. _espy'd_ for _espy-ed_, 72; _eet_, r. w. _sweet_ for

_swet-e_, 90; _not'_ for _not-e_, r. w. _sot_, 99; _busily_, r. w. _aspy'_

for _aspy-e_, 106; _trewly_, r. w. _armony'_ for _armony-e_, 130; _orient_

(_oriant_?), r. w. _want_ for _want-e_, 148; _person_ for _person-e_, r. w.

_everichon_, 167. It is tedious to go on; let the critic finish the list,

if he knows how to do it. If not, let him be humble. For there is more to

come.

§ 59. Besides the grammar, there is yet the pronunciation to be considered;

and here comes in the greatest difficulty of all. For, in ll. 86-89, we

have the unusual rime of _tree_ and _be_ with _pretily_. This so staggered

Dr. Morris, that he was induced to print the last word as _pretile_; which

raises the difficulty without explaining it. For the explanation, the

reader should consult the excellent dissertation by Dr. Curtis on The

Romance of Clariodus (Halle, 1894), p. 56, § 187. He remarks that a rime of

this character gives evidence of the transition of M.E. long close _e_ to

(Italian) long _i_ [as in the change from A.S. _m[=e]_ to mod. E. _me_],

and adds: 'this change became general in the fifteenth century, but had

begun in some dialects at an earlier date.' Its occurrence in the present

poem is a strong indication that it is later than the year 1400, and

effectually disposes of any supposed connection with Midland poems of the

fourteenth century.

Both poems are remarkably free from classical allusions and from references

to such medieval authors as are freely quoted by Chaucer. There is nothing

to shew that the authoress was acquainted with Latin, though she knew

French, especially the French of songs and mottoes.

The Flower and the Leaf is chiefly famous for having been versified by

Dryden. The version is a free one, in a manner all his own, and is finer

than the original, which can hardly be said of his 'versions' of Palamon

and Arcite and The Cock and the Fox. It is doubtless from this version that

many critics have formed exaggerated ideas of the poem's value; otherwise,

it is difficult to understand for what reasons it was considered worthy of

so great a master as Geoffrey Chaucer.

§ 60. It will be seen, from the Notes, that the authoress was well

acquainted with the Prologue to The Legend of Good Women; and it can hardly

be questioned that she took the main idea of the poem from that source,

especially ll. 188-194 of the later text. At the same time she was well

acquainted with Gower's lines on the same subject, in the Conf. Amantis,

iii. 357, 358; see vol. iii. pp. xlii, 297. Gower has:--

'Me thoughte I sigh to-fore myn hede

Cupide with his bowe bent,

And like unto a parlement

Which were ordeined for the nones,

With him cam al the world atones[27]

Of gentil folk, that whylom were

Lovers; I sigh hem alle there ...

Her hedes kempt, and therupon

Garlondes, nought of o colour,

Some of the Lefe, some of the Flour,[28]

And some of grete perles were.[29] ...

So loude that on every syde

It thoughte as al the heven cryde[30]

In such accorde and suche a soun

Of bombard and of clarioun ...

So glad a noise for to here.

The grene Leef is overthrowe[31] ...

Despuiled is the somer fare,' &c. (p. 371).

§ 61. XXI. THE ASSEMBLY OF LADIES.

This has already been discussed, in some measure, in considering the

preceding poem. Both pieces were written by the same authoress; but the

former is the more sprightly and probably the earlier. With the exception

of the unusual rime of _tree_ with _pretily_ (discussed above), nearly all

the peculiarities of the preceding poem occur here also. The Chaucerian

final _-e_ appears now and then, as in _commaund-e_ (probably plural), 203;

_red-e_, 215; _countenanc-e_, 295; _pen-ne_ [or else _seyd-e_], 307;

_chayr-e_, 476; _tak-e_, 565; _trouth-e_, 647; _liv-e_, 672; _sem-e_ (pr.

s. subj.), 696. But it is usually dropped, as in _The fresh_ for _The

fres-she_, 2; &c. In l. 11, Thynne prints _fantasyse_ for _fantasyes_; for

it obviously rimes with _gyse_ (monosyllabic); cf. 533-535. _Hew-e_ and

_new-e_ are cut down to _hew_ and _new_, to rime with _knew_, 67. _Bold_

rimes with _told_, clipped form of _told-e_, 94; and so on. So, again,

_trewly_ appears in place of Chaucer's _trew-e-ly_, 488. It is needless to

pursue the subject.

The description of the maze and the arbour, in ll. 29-70, is good. Another

pleasing passage is that contained in ll. 449-497; and the description of a

lady's dress in ll. 519-539. As for the lady herself--

'It was a world to loke on her visage.'

There is a most characteristic touch of a female writer in lines 253-254:--

'So than I dressed me in myn aray,

And asked her, _whether it were wel or no?_'

To attribute such a question as 'how will my dress do' to a male writer is

a little too dramatic for a mere narrative poem.

The two MSS. have now been collated for the first time and afford some

important corrections, of which l. 61 presents remarkable instances. MS.

Addit. 34360 is of some value.

§ 62. A considerable part of The Assembly of Ladies that is now of little

interest may have been much appreciated at the time, as having reference to

the ordering of a large medieval household, with its chambers, parlours,

bay-windows, and galleries, carefully kept in good order by the various

officers and servants; such as Perseverance the usher, Countenance the

porter, Discretion the chief purveyor, Acquaintance the harbinger, Largesse

the steward, Bel-cheer the marshal of the hall, Remembrance the

chamberlain, and the rest. The authoress must have been perfectly familiar

with spectacles and pageants and all the amusements of the court; but she

was too humble to aspire to wear a motto.

'And for my "word," I have non; this is trew.

It is ynough that my clothing be blew

As here-before I had commaundement;

And so to do I am right wel content'; A. 312.

We must not forget that the period of the Wars of the Roses, especially

from 1455 to 1471, was one during which the composition of these poems was

hardly possible. It is obviously very difficult to assign a date to them;

perhaps they may be referred to the last quarter of the fifteenth century.

We must not put them too late, because The Assembly exists in MSS. that

seem to be as old as that period.

§ 63. XXII. A GOODLY BALADE.

For this poem there is but one authority, viz. Thynne's edition of 1532. He

calls it 'A goodly balade of Chaucer'; but it is manifestly Lydgate's.

Moreover, it is really a triple Balade, with an Envoy, on the model of

Chaucer's Fortune and Compleynt of Venus; only it has seven-line stanzas

instead of stanzas of eight lines. An inspection of Thynne's volume shews

that it was inserted to fill a gap, viz. a blank page at the back of the

concluding lines of The Legend of Good Women, so that the translation of

Boethius might commence on a new leaf.

It is obvious that the third stanza of the second Balade was missing in

Thynne's MS. He did not leave it out for lack of space; for there is plenty

of room on his page.

That it is not Chaucer's appears from the first Balade, where the use of

the monosyllables _shal_ and _smal_ in ll. 8 and 10 necessitates the use of

the clipped forms _al_ for _al-le_, _cal_ for _cal-le_, _apal_ for

_apal-le_, and _befal_ for _befal-le_. Moreover, the whole style of it

suggests Lydgate, and does not suggest Chaucer.

The sixth stanza probably began with the letter _D_; in which case, the

initial letters of the stanzas give us _M_, _M_, _M_; _D_, _D_, _D_; _J_,

_C_, _Q_. And, as it was evidently addressed to a lady named _Margaret_

(see the Notes), we seem to see here _Margaret, Dame Jacques_. The name of

_Robert Jacques_ occurs in the Writs of Parliament; Bardsley's English

Surnames, 2nd ed., p. 565. Of course this is a guess which it is easy to

deride; but it is very difficult to account otherwise for the introduction

of the letters _J_, _C_, _Q_ in the third Balade; yet it was evidently

intentional, for much force was employed to achieve the result. To make the

first stanza begin with _J_, recourse is had to French; and the other two

stanzas both begin with inverted clauses.

§ 64. XXIII. GO FORTH, KING.

I give this from Thynne's first edition; but add the Latin lines from the

copy printed in Schick's edition of The Temple of Glas, at p. 68. His text

is from that printed by Wynken de Worde about 1498, collated with the

second and third prints from the same press at somewhat later dates, and a

still later copy printed by Berthelet.

The only difference between Thynne's text and that given by Schick is that

Wynken de Worde printed _ar_ in the last line where Thynne has printed

_be_. Schick also notes that 'the Chaucer-Prints of 1561 and 1598 omit

_thou_' in l. 9; and I find that it is also omitted in the third edition

(undated, about 1550). But it occurs in the edition of 1532, all the same;

shewing that the later reprints cannot always be relied upon.

I have already said (vol. i. p. 40)--'Surely it must be Lydgate's.' For it

exhibits his love for 'catalogues,' and presents his peculiarities of

metre. Dr. Schick agrees with this ascription, and points out that its

appearance in the four prints above-mentioned, in all of which it is

annexed to Lydgate's Temple of Glas, tends to strengthen my supposition. I

think this may be taken as removing all doubt on the subject.

§ 65. I beg leave to quote here Schick's excellent remarks upon the poem

itself.

'There are similar pieces to these _Duodecim Abusiones_ in earlier English

literature (see ten Brink, _Geschichte der englischen Literatur_, i. 268,

and note).[32] The "twelf unþ[=e]awas" existed also in Old-English; a

homily on them is printed in Morris, _Old Eng. Homilies_, pp. 101-119[33].

It is based on the Latin Homily "De octo viciis et de duodecim abusivis

huius saeculi," attributed to St. Cyprian or St. Patrick; see Dietrich in

Niedner's _Zeitschrift für historische Theologie_, 1855, p. 518; Wanley's

_Catalogus_, passim (cf. the Index _sub voce_ Patrick). In the

Middle-English period we meet again with more or less of these "Abusions";

see Morris, _Old Eng. Miscellany_, p. 185 (11 Abusions); Furnivall, _Early

Eng. Poems_, Berlin, 1862 (Phil. Soc.), p. 161; "Five Evil Things," Wright

and Halliwell, _Reliquiae Antiquae_, i. 316, and ii. 14.'

§ 66. XXIV. THE COURT OF LOVE.

This piece was first printed by Stowe in 1561. Stowe happened to have

access to a MS. which was really a miscellaneous collection of

Middle-English pieces of various dates; and he proceeded to print them as

being 'certaine workes of Geffray Chauser,' without paying any regard to

their contents or style. In vol. i. pp. 33, 34, I give a list of his

additions, numbered 42-60[34]. By good fortune, the very MS. in question is

now in Trinity College Library, marked R. 3. 19. We can thus tell that he

was indebted to it for the pieces numbered 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54,

55, 56, and 59. These eleven pieces are all alike remarkable for being

non-Chaucerian; indeed, no. 56 is certainly Lydgate's. But it has so

happened that no. 59, or The Court of Love, being the best of these pieces,

was on that account 'attributed' to Chaucer, whilst the others were

unhesitatingly rejected. And it happened on this wise.

§ 67. After Tyrwhitt had edited the Canterbury Tales afresh, it occurred to

him to compile a Glossary. He rightly reasoned that the Glossary would be

strengthened and made more correct if he included in it all the harder

words found in the _whole_ of Chaucer's Works, instead of limiting the

vocabulary to words which occur in the Canterbury Tales only. For this

purpose, he proceeded to draw up a List of what he conceived to be

Chaucer's _genuine_ works; and we must remember that the only process open

to him was to consider all the old editions, and _reject_ such as he

conceived to be spurious. Hence his List is not really a list of genuine

works, but one made by striking out from all previous lists the works which

he _knew_ to be spurious. A moment's reflection will show that this is a

very different thing.

Considering that he had only his own acumen to guide him, and had no access

to linguistic or grammatical tests, still less to tests derived from an

examination of rimes or phonology, it is wonderful how well he did his

work. In the matter of rejection, he did not make a single mistake. His

first revision was made by considering only the pieces numbered 1-41, in

the _first_ part of Stowe's print (see vol. i. pp. 31-33); and he struck

out the following, on the express ground that they were _known to have been

written by other authors_; viz. nos. 4, 11, 13, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 33, and

40[35].

Then he went over the list again, and struck out, on internal evidence,

nos. 15, 18, 21, 22, and 32[36].

Truly, here was a noble beginning! The only non-Chaucerian pieces which he

failed to reject explicitly, among nos. 1-41, were the following, viz. 6 (A

Goodly Balade of Chaucer), 17 (The Complaint of the Black Knight), 20 (The

Testament of Love), 31 (The Cuckoo and the Nightingale), 38 (Go forth,

King), and 41 (A Balade in Praise of Chaucer). Of course he rejected the

last of these, but it was not worth his while to say so; and, in the same

way, he tacitly rejected or ignored nos. 6, 30, and 38. Hence it was that

nos. 6, 30, 38, and 41 did not appear in Moxon's Chaucer, and even no. 32

was carefully excluded. In his final list, out of nos. 1-41, Tyrwhitt

actually got rid of all but nos. 17, 20, and 31 (The Black Knight, The

Testament of Love, and The Cuckoo).

As to the remaining articles, he accepted, among the longer pieces, nos.

59, 62, and 63, i.e. The Court of Love, Chaucer's Dream, and The Flower and

the Leaf; to which he added nos. 42, 43, and 60 (as to which there is no

doubt), and also the Virelai (no. 50), on the slippery ground that it _is_

a virelai (which, strictly speaking, it is not).

§ 68. One result of his investigations was that an edition of Chaucer was

published by Moxon (my copy is dated 1855), in which all the poems were

included which Tyrwhitt accepted, followed by Tyrwhitt's Account of the

Works of Chaucer.

Owing to the popularity of this edition, many scholars accepted the poems

contained in it as being certainly genuine; but it is obvious that this was

a very risky thing to do, in the absence of external evidence; especially

when it is remembered that Tyrwhitt merely wanted to illustrate his

glossary to the Canterbury Tales by adding words from other texts. The idea

of drawing up a canon by the process of striking out from luxuriant lists

the names of pieces that are obviously spurious, is one that should never

have found acceptance.

§ 69. There is only one correct method of drawing up a canon of genuine

works, viz. that adopted by Mr. Henry Bradshaw, formerly our Cambridge

University Librarian. It is simple enough, viz. to take a clean sheet of

paper, and enter upon it, first of all, the names of all the pieces that

are admittedly genuine; and then to see if it can fairly be augmented by

adding such pieces as have reasonable evidence in their favour. In making a

list of this character, The Court of Love has no claim to be considered at

all, as I fully proved about twenty years ago[37]; and there is an end of

the matter. The MS. copy is in a hand of the sixteenth century[38], and

there is no internal evidence to suggest an earlier date.

§ 70. Our task is to determine what it really is, and what can be made of

it as it stands. We learn from the author that he was 'a clerk of

Cambridge' (913), which we may readily accept. Beyond this, there is

nothing but internal evidence; but of this there is much. That our 'clerk'

had read Ovid and Maximian appears from the Notes; he even seems to have

imbibed something of 'the new learning,' as he makes up the names

Philo-genet and Philo-bone by help of a Greek adjective[39]. Dr. Schick has

made it clear that he was well acquainted with Lydgate's Temple of Glas,

which he imitates freely; see Schick's edition of that poem, p. cxxix. Mr.

J. T. T. Brown, in his criticism on 'The Authorship of the Kingis Quair,'

Glasgow, 1896, draws many parallels between The Court of Love and The

Kingis Quair, and concludes that The Kingis Quair was indebted to The Court

of Love; but it is tolerably certain that the indebtedness was in the other

direction. For, in The Kingis Quair, some knowledge of the true use of

Chaucer's final _-e_ is still exhibited, even in a Northern poem, whilst in

The Court of Love, it is almost altogether dead, though the poem is in the

Midland dialect. I shall presently shew that our clerk, whilst very nearly

ignoring the final _-e_, occasionally employs the final _-en_; but this he

does in a way which clearly shews that he did not understand when to use it

aright, a fact which is highly significant.

I am much indebted to my friend Professor Hales for pointing out another

very cogent argument. He draws attention to the numerous instances in which

the author of The Court of Love fails to end a stanza with a stop. There is

no stop, for example, at the end of ll. 14, 567, 672, 693, 700, 763, 826,

1064, 1288; and only a slight pause at the end of ll. 28, 49, 70, 84, 189,

231, 259, 280, 371, 406, 427, &c. In Chaucer's Parlement of Foules, on the

other hand, there is but one stanza without a stop at the end, viz. at l.

280; and but one with a slight pause, viz. at l. 154. The difference

between these results is very marked, and would convince any mathematician.

I should like to add that the same test disposes of the claims of The

Flower and the Leaf to be considered as Chaucer's; it has no stop at the

end of ll. 7, 70, 154, 161, 196, 231, 280, 308, 392, 476, and has mere

commas at the end of ll. 28, 49, 56, 98, 119, 224, 259, 329, 336, &c. In

the Assembly of Ladies this departure from Chaucer's usage has been nearly

abandoned, which is one reason why that piece is in a less lively style.

§ 71. The sole MS. copy of The Court of Love belongs to the sixteenth

century, and there is nothing to shew that the poem itself was of earlier

date. Indeed, the language of it is remarkably like that of the former half

of that century. If it be compared with Sackville's famous 'Induction,' the

metrical form of the stanzas is much the same; there is the same smoothness

of rhythm and frequent modernness of form, quite different from the halting

lines of Lydgate and Hawes. This raises a suggestion that the author may

have learnt his metre from Scottish authors, such as Henryson and Dunbar;

and it is surprising to find him employing such words as _celsitude_ and

_pulcritude_, and even riming them together, precisely as Dunbar did (ll.

611-613, and the note). One wonders where he learnt to use such words, if

not from Scottish authors. Curiously enough, a single instance of the use

of a Northern inflexion occurs in the phrase _me thynkes_, 874. And I admit

the certainty that he consulted The Kingis Quair.

I have no space to discuss the matter at length; so shall content myself

with saying that the impression produced upon me is that we have here the

work of one of the heralds of the Elizabethan poetry, of the class to which

belonged Nicholas Grimoald, Thomas Sackville, Lord Surrey, Lord Vaux, and

Sir Francis Bryan. There must have been much fairly good poetry in the time

of Henry VIII that is lost to us. Tottell's Miscellany clearly shews this,

as it is a mere selection of short pieces, which very nearly perished; but

for this fortunate relic, we should not have known much about Wyat and

Surrey. Sackville, when at Cambridge, acquired some distinction for Latin

and English verse, but we possess none of it. However, Sackville was not

the author of The Court of Love, seeing that it was published in a

'Chaucer' collection in 1561, long before his death.

The fact that our clerk was well acquainted with so many pieces by Chaucer,

such as The Knight's Tale, the Complaint of Pity, The Legend of Good Women,

Troilus, and Anelida, besides giving us reminiscences of The Letter of

Cupid, and (perhaps) of The Cuckoo and Nightingale, raises the suspicion

that he had access to Thynne's edition of 1532; and it is quite possible

that this very book inspired him for his effort. This suspicion becomes

almost a certainty if it be true that ll. 495-496 are borrowed from Rom.

Rose, 2819-20; see note at p. 545. I can find no reason for dating the poem

earlier than that year.

§ 72. However this may be, the chief point to notice is that his archaisms

are affectations and not natural. He frequently dispenses with them

altogether for whole stanzas at a time. When they occur, they are such as

he found in Chaucer abundantly; I refer to such phrases as _I-wis_ or

_y-wis_; _as blyve_; the use of _ich_ for _I_ (661); _besy cure_ (36); _gan

me dresse_ (113; cf. C. T., G 1271); _by the feith I shall to god_ (131;

cf. Troil. iii. 1649); and many more. He rarely uses the prefix _i-_ or

_y-_ with the pp.; we find _y-born_ (976), _y-formed_ (1176), _y-heried_

(592), _y-sped_ (977), all in Chaucer; besides these, I only note _y-fed_

(975), _y-ravisshed_ (153), _y-stope_ (281), the last being used in the

sense of Chaucer's _stope_. The most remarkable point is the almost total

absence of the final _-e_; I only observe _His len-ë body_ (1257); _to

serv-e_ (909); _to dred-e_ (603); and _in thilk-ë place_ (642); the last of

which is a phrase (cf. R. R. 660). On the other hand, whilst thus

abstaining from the use of the final _-e_, he makes large use of the longer

and less usual suffix _-en_, which he employs with much skill to heighten

the archaic effect. Thus we find the past participles _holden_, 62;

_growen_, 182; _yoven_ or _yeven_, 742; _shapen_, 816, 1354; _blowen_,

1240; the gerunds _writen_, 35; _dressen_, 179; _byden_, 321; _semen_, 607;

_seken_, 838; _worshippen_, 1165, and a few others; the infinitives

_maken_, 81; _byden_, 189; _quyten_, 327, &c., this being the commonest

use; the present plurals _wailen_, 256; _foten_, 586; _speden_, 945, &c.;

with the same form for the first person, as in _wailen_, 1113; _bleden_,

1153; and for the second person, as in _waxen_, 958; _slepen_, 999.

Occasionally, this suffix is varied to _-yn_ or _-in_, as in _exilyn_, v.,

336; _serchyn_, v., 950; _spakyn_, pt. pl., 624; _approchyn_, pr. pl.,

1212. This may be the scribe's doing, and is consistent with East Anglian

spelling.

But the artificial character of these endings is startlingly revealed when

we find _-en_ added in an impossible position, shewing that its true

grammatical use was quite dead. Yet we find such examples. A serious error

(hardly the scribe's) occurs in l. 347: 'Wheder that she me _helden_ lefe

or loth.' _Hold_ being a strong verb, the pt. t. is _held_; we could

however justify the use of _held-e_, by supposing it to be the subjunctive

mood, which suits the sense; but _held-en_ (with _-en_) is the _plural_

form, while _she_ is singular; and really this use of _-e_ in the

subjunctive must have been long dead. In l. 684, we have a case that is

even worse, viz. _I kepen in no wyse_; here the use of _-en_ saves a

hiatus, but the concord is false, like the Latin _ego seruamus_. In l. 928,

the same thing recurs, though the scribe has altered _greven_ into

_growen_[40]; for this present tense is supposed to agree with _I_! A very

clear case occurs in l. 725: _For if by me this mater springen out_; where

the use of _-en_, again meant to save a hiatus, is excruciatingly wrong;

for _mater_ is singular! This cannot be the fault of the scribe. Other

examples of false grammar are: _thou serven_, 290; _thou sene_, 499. But

the climax is attained in l. 526, where we meet with _thay kepten ben_,

where the _-en_ is required for the metre. _Kepten_, as a _past

participle_, is quite unique; let us drop a veil over this sad lapse, and

say no more about it[41].

We may, however, fairly notice the constant use of the Northern forms

_their_ and _thaim_ or _theim_, where Chaucer has _hir_ and _hem_. The use

of _their_ and _them_ (not _thaim_) was well established by the year 1500

in literary English, as, e.g., in Hawes and Skelton. Caxton uses all four

forms, _hem_ and _them_, _her_ and _their_.

§ 73. I add a few notes, suggested by an examination of the rimes employed.

The final _-e_ is not used at the end of a line. This is easily seen, if

carefully looked into. Thus _lette_ (1284) stands for _let_, for it rimes

with _y-set_; _grace_ and _trespace_ rime with _was_, 163; _kene_ rimes

with _bene_, misspelling of _been_, 252; _redde_, put for _red_, rimes with

_spred_, 302; _yerde_, put for _yerd_, rimes with _aferd_, 363; _ende_

rimes with _frend_ and _fend_, 530; and so on throughout[42]. The following

assonances occur: _here_, _grene_, 253; _kepe_, _flete_, 309; and the

following rimes are imperfect: _plaint_, _talent_, _consent_, 716; _frend_,

_mynd_, 1056; _nonne_ (for _non_), _boun_, 1149; _like_ (_i_ long), _stike_

(_i_ short), 673; and perhaps _hold_, _shuld_[43], 408; _hard_, _ferd_,

151. _Hard_ is repeated, 149, 151; 1275, 1277. A curious rime is that of

_length_ with _thynketh_, 1059; read _thenk'th_, and it is good enough.

Noteworthy are these: _thryse_ (for Chaucer's _thry-ës_), _wyse_, 537;

_hens_ (for Chaucer's _henn-ës_), _eloquence_, 935; _desire_, _here_, 961,

1301; _eke_, _like_, 561; _tretesse_ (for Chaucer's _tretys_),

_worthinesse_, 28; _write_, _aright_, 13; _sey_ (I saw), _way_, 692. In one

place, he has _discryve_, 778, to rime with _lyve_; and in another _discry_

(miswritten _discryve_, 97), to rime with _high_. As in Chaucer, he

sometimes has _dy_, to die, riming with _remedy_, 340, and elsewhere _dey_,

to rime with _pray_, 582; and again _fire_, _fyr_, riming with _hyre_, 883,

or with _desire_, 1285, and at another time the Kentish form _fere_

(borrowed from Chaucer), with the same sense, r. w. _y-fere_, 622. The most

curious forms are those for 'eye.' When it rimes with _degree_, 132, _see_,

768, we seem to have the Northern form _ee_ or _e_; but elsewhere it rimes

with _besily_, 299, _pretily_, 419, _wounderly_, 695, _dispitously_, 1139,

or with _I_, 282; and the plural _yen_ (= _y'n_) rimes with _lyne_, 135.

The sounds represented by _[=e]_ and _y_ obviously afford permissible

rimes; that the sounds were not identical appears from ll. 1051-1055, which

end with _me_, _remedy_, _be_, _dy_, _company_ consecutively.

§ 74. Perhaps an easier way for enabling a learner to recognise the

peculiarities of The Court of Love, and the difference of its language from

Chaucer, is to translate some lines of it into Chaucerian English. The

effect upon the metre is startling.

So thanne I went-ë by straunge and fer-rë contrees; 57.

Alceste it was that kept-ë there her sojour; 105.

To whom obeyd-ën the ladies god-ë nynten-ë; 108.

And yong-ë men fel-ë cam-ë forth with lusty pace; 110.

O bright-ë Regina, who mad-ë thee so fair? 141.

And mercy ask-ë for al my gret-ë trespas; 166.

This eight-ë-ten-ë yeer have kept yourself at large; 184.

In me did never worch-ë trew-ë-ly, yit I; 212.

And ther I sey the fres-shë quene of Cartáge; 231.

A! new-ë com-ën folk, abyde, and woot ye why; 271.

Than gan I me present-ë tofor-ë the king; 274.

That thou be trew-ë from henn-es-forth, to thy might; 289.

And nam-ë-ly haw-ë-thorn brought-ën both-ë page and grom-ë; 1433.

Very many more such examples may be given. Or take the following; Chaucer

has (L. G. W. 476):--

For Love ne wól nat countrepleted be.

And this is how it reappears in C. L. 429:--

For Love wil not be counterpleted, indede!

Here the melody of the line is completely spoilt.

In the present state of our knowledge of the history of the English

language, any notion of attributing The Court of Love to Chaucer is worse

than untenable; for it is wholly disgraceful. Everything points to a very

late date, and tends to exclude it, not only from the fourteenth, but even

from the fifteenth century.

At the same time, it will readily be granted that the poem abounds with

Chaucerian words and phrases to an extent that almost surpasses even the

poems of Lydgate. The versification is smooth, and the poem, as a whole, is

pleasing. I have nothing to say against it, when considered on its own

merits.

§ 75. Space fails me to discuss the somewhat vexed question of the Courts

of Love, of which some have denied the existence. However, there seems to

be good evidence to shew that they arose in Provence, and were due to the

extravagances of the troubadours. They were travesties of the courts of

law, with a lady of rank for a judge, and minstrels for advocates; and they

discussed subtle questions relating to affairs of love, usually between

troubadours and ladies. The discussions were conducted with much

seriousness, and doubtless often served to give much amusement to many idle

people. Not unfrequently they led to tragedies, as is easily understood

when we notice that the first of one set of thirty-one Laws of Love runs as

follows:--'Marriage cannot be pleaded as an excuse for refusing to love.'

The reader who requires further information is referred to 'The Troubadours

and Courts of Love,' by J. F. Rowbotham, M.A., London, Swan Sonnenschein

and Co., 1895.

It is perhaps necessary to observe that the said Courts have very little to

do with the present poem, which treats of a Court of Cupid in the

Chaucerian sense (Leg. Good Women, 352). Even the statutes of the Court are

largely imitated from Lydgate.

§ 76. PIECES NUMBERED XXV-XXIX.

XXV. VIRELAY. This piece, from the Trinity MS., belongs to the end of the

fifteenth century, and contains no example of the final _-e_ as

constituting a syllable. Chaucer would have used _sore_ (l. 2), _more_ (l.

12), _trouth_ (l. 13), as dissyllables; and he would not have rimed _pleyn_

and _disdayn_ with _compleyn_ and _absteyn_, as the two latter require a

final _-e_. The rime of _finde_ with _ende_ is extraordinary.

The title 'Virelai' is given to this piece in Moxon's Chaucer, and is,

strictly speaking, incorrect; in the MS. and in Stowe's edition, it has no

title at all! Tyrwhitt cautiously spoke of it as being 'perhaps by

Chaucer'; and says that 'it comes nearer to the description of a _Virelay_,

than anything else of his that has been preserved.' This is not the case;

see note to Anelida, 256; vol. i. p. 536. Tyrwhitt quotes from

Cotgrave--'_Virelay_, a round, freemen's song,' and adds--'There is a

particular description of a _Virlai_, in the _Jardin de plaisance_, fol.

xii, where it makes the _decima sexta species Rhetorice Gallicane_.' For

further remarks, see p. 554.

XXVI. PROSPERITY: BY JOHN WALTON. 'To Mr. [Mark] Liddell belongs the honour

of the discovery of John Walton as the author of the little poem on fol.

119 [of MS. Arch. Seld. B. 24]. The lines occur as part of the Prologue

(ll. 83-90) to Walton's translation of Boethius' _De Consolatione_.'--J. T.

T. Brown, _The Authorship of the Kingis Quair_, Glasgow, 1896; p. 71. See

the account of Walton in Warton's Hist. E. Poetry, sect. xx. The original

date of the stanza was, accordingly, 1410; but we here find it in a late

Scottish dress. The ascription of it to 'Chaucer,' in the MS., is an

obvious error; it was written ten years after his death.

XXVII. LEAULTE VAULT RICHESSE. This piece, like the former, has no title in

the MS.; but the words _Leaulte vault Richesse_ (Loyalty deserves riches)

occur at the end of it. If the original was in a Midland dialect, it must

belong to the latter part of the fifteenth century. Even in these eight

lines we find a contradiction to Chaucer's usage; for he always uses

_lent_, pp., as a monosyllable, and _rent-e_ as a dissyllable. It is

further remarkable that he never uses _content_ as an adjective; it first

appears in Rom. Rose, 5628.

XXVIII. SAYINGS. I give these sayings as printed by Caxton; see vol. i. p.

46, where I note that Caxton did not ascribe them to Chaucer. They are not

at all in his style.

In MS. Ashmole 59, fol. 78, I find a similar prophecy:--

_Prophecia merlini doctoris perfecti._

Whane lordes wol leefe theire olde lawes,

And preestis been varyinge in theire sawes,

And leccherie is holden solace,

And oppressyou_n_ for truwe p_ur_chace;

And whan the moon is on dauid stall,

And the kynge passe Arthures hall,

Than[44] is [the] lande of Albyon

Nexst to his confusyoun.

It is extremely interesting to observe the ascription of these lines to

_Merlin_; see King Lear, iii. 2. 95.

XXIX. BALADE. This poor stanza, with its long-drawn lines, appears in Stowe

at the end of 'Chaucer's Works.' In the Trinity MS., it occurs at the end

of a copy of The Parlement of Foules.

§ 77. An examination of the pieces contained in the present volume leads us

to a somewhat remarkable result, viz. that we readily distinguish in them

the handiwork of _at least_ twelve different authors, of whom no two are

much alike, whilst every one of them can be distinguished from Chaucer.

These are: (1) the author of The Testament of Love, who writes in a prose

style all his own; (2) the author of The Plowmans Tale and Plowmans Crede,

with his strong powers of invective and love of alliteration, whose style

could never have been mistaken for Chaucer's in any age[45]; (3) the author

of Jack Upland, with his direct and searching questions; (4) John Gower,

with his scrupulous regularity of grammatical usages; (5) Thomas Hoccleve,

who too often accents a dissyllable on the latter syllable when it should

be accented on the former; (6) Henry Scogan, whose lines are lacking in

interest and originality; (7) John Lydgate[46], who allows his verse too

many licences, so that it cannot always be scanned at the first trial; (8)

Sir Richard Ros, who writes in English of a quite modern cast, using

_their_ and _them_ as in modern English, and wholly discarding the use of

final _-e_ as an inflexion; (9) Robert Henryson, who writes smoothly enough

and with a fine vein of invention, but employs the Northern dialect; (10)

Sir Thomas Clanvowe, who employs the final _-e_ much more frequently than

Chaucer or even Gower; (11) the authoress of The Flower and the Leaf and

The Assembly of Ladies, to whom the final _-e_ was an archaism, very

convenient for metrical embellishment; and (12) the author of The Court of

Love, who, while discarding the use of the final _-e_, was glad to use the

final _-en_ to save a hiatus or to gain a syllable, and did not hesitate to

employ it where it was grammatically wrong to do so.

§ 78. If the reader were to suppose that this exhausts the list, he would

be mistaken; for it is quite easy to add at least one known name, and to

suggest three others. For the piece numbered XXVI, on p. 449, has been

identified as the work of John Walton, who wrote a verse translation of

Boethius in the year 1410; whilst it is extremely unlikely that no. XXVII,

written in Lowland Scottish, was due to Henryson, the only writer in that

dialect who has been mentioned above. This gives a total of _fourteen_

authors already; and I believe that we require yet two more before the

Virelai and the Sayings printed by Caxton (nos. XXV and XXVIII) can be

satisfactorily accounted for. As for no. XIX--the Envoy to Alison--it _may_

be Lydgate's, but, on the other hand, it may not. And as for no. XXIX, it

is of no consequence.

Moreover, it must be remembered that I here only refer to the selected

pieces printed in the present volume. If we go further afield, we soon find

several more authors, all distinct from those above-mentioned, from each

other, and from Chaucer. I will just instance the author of the Isle of

Ladies, the authoress (presumably) of The Lamentation of Mary Magdalen, the

author of The Craft of Lovers, the 'man unknown' who wrote The Ten

Commandments of Love, and the author of the clumsy lines dignified by the

title of The Nine Ladies Worthy. It is quite certain that _not less_ than

twenty authors are represented in the mass of heterogeneous material which

appears under Chaucer's name in a compilation such as that which is printed

in the first volume of Chalmers' British Poets; which, precisely on that

very account, is useful enough in its own peculiar way.

§ 79. I believe it may be said of nearly every piece in the volume, that it

now appears in an improved form. In several cases, I have collated MSS.

that have not previously been examined, and have found them to be the best.

The Notes are nearly all new; very few have been taken from Bell's Chaucer.

Several are due to Schick's useful notes to The Temple of Glas; and some to

Krausser's edition of The Black Knight, and to Gröhler's edition of La

Belle Dame, both of which reached me after my own notes were all in type. I

have added a Glossary of the harder words; for others, see the Glossary

already printed in vol. vi.

In extenuation of faults, I may plead that I have found it much more

difficult to deal with such heterogenous material as is comprised in the

present volume than with pieces all written by the same author. The style,

the grammar, the mode of scansion, the dialect, and even the pronunciation

are constantly shifting, instead of being reasonably consistent, as in the

genuine works of Chaucer. Any one who will take the pains to observe these

points, to compile a sufficient number of notes upon difficult passages,

and to prepare a somewhat full glossary, may thus practically convince

himself, as I have done, that not a single piece in the present volume

ought ever to have been 'attributed' to Chaucer. That any of them should

have been so attributed--and some of them never were--has been the result

of negligence, superficiality, and incapacity, such as (it may be hoped) we

have seen the last of.

I wish once more to acknowledge my obligations to Mr. E. B. Nicholson, for

the loan of his transcript of The Praise of Peace; to Mr. Bradley, for his

discovery of the authorship of The Testament of Love and for other

assistance as regards the same; to Dr. E. Krausser, for his edition of The

Complaint of the Black Knight; to Dr. Gröhler, for his dissertation on La

Belle Dame sans Mercy; and to Professor Hales for his kind help as to some

difficult points, and particularly with regard to The Court of Love.

* * * * *

THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE.

PROLOGUE.

Many men there ben that, with eeres openly sprad, so

moche swalowen the deliciousnesse of jestes and of ryme,

by queynt knitting coloures, that of the goodnesse or of the

badnesse of the sentence take they litel hede or els non.

Soothly, dul wit and a thoughtful soule so sore have myned 5

and graffed in my spirites, that suche craft of endyting wol not

ben of myn acqueyntaunce. And, for rude wordes and boystous

percen the herte of the herer to the in[ne]rest point, and planten

there the sentence of thinges, so that with litel helpe it is able

to springe; this book, that nothing hath of the greet flode of 10

wit ne of semelich colours, is dolven with rude wordes and

boystous, and so drawe togider, to maken the cacchers therof

ben the more redy to hente sentence.

Some men there ben that peynten with colours riche, and

some with vers, as with red inke, and some with coles and 15

chalke; and yet is there good matere to the leude people of

thilke chalky purtreyture, as hem thinketh for the tyme; and

afterward the sight of the better colours yeven to hem more

joye for the first leudnesse. So, sothly, this leude clowdy occupacion

is not to prayse but by the leude; for comunly leude 20

leudnesse commendeth. Eke it shal yeve sight, that other

precious thinges shal be the more in reverence. In Latin

and French hath many soverayne wittes had greet delyt to

endyte, and have many noble thinges fulfild; but certes, there

ben some that speken their poysye-mater in Frenche, of whiche 25

speche the Frenche men have as good a fantasye as we have

in hering of Frenche mennes English. And many termes there

ben in English, [of] whiche unneth we Englishmen connen declare

the knowleginge. How shulde than a Frenche man born suche

termes conne jumpere in his mater, but as the jay chatereth 30

English? Right so, trewly, the understanding of Englishmen

wol not strecche to the privy termes in Frenche, what-so-ever we

bosten of straunge langage. Let than clerkes endyten in Latin,

for they have the propertee of science, and the knowinge in that

facultee; and let Frenchmen in their Frenche also endyten their 35

queynt termes, for it is kyndely to their mouthes; and let us

shewe our fantasyes in suche wordes as we lerneden of our dames

tonge.

And although this book be litel thank-worthy for the leudnesse

in travaile, yet suche wrytinges excyten men to thilke thinges that 40

ben necessarie; for every man therby may, as by a perpetual

mirrour, seen the vyces or vertues of other, in whiche thing

lightly may be conceyved to eschewe perils, and necessaries to

cacche, after as aventures have fallen to other people or persons.

Certes, [perfeccion is] the soveraynest thing of desyre, and 45

moste +creatures resonable have, or els shulde have, ful appetyte

to their perfeccion; unresonable beestes mowen not, sith reson

hath in hem no werking. Than resonable that wol not is comparisoned

to unresonable, and made lyke hem. For-sothe, the

most soverayne and fynal perfeccion of man is in knowing of 50

a sothe, withouten any entent disceyvable, and in love of oon

very god that is inchaungeable; that is, to knowe and love his

creatour.

¶ Now, principally, the mene to bringe in knowleging and

loving his creatour is the consideracion of thinges made by the 55

creatour, wherthrough, by thilke thinges that ben made understonding

here to our wittes, arn the unsene privitees of god

made to us sightful and knowing, in our contemplacion and

understonding. These thinges than, forsoth, moche bringen us

to the ful knowleginge [of] sothe, and to the parfit love of the 60

maker of hevenly thinges. Lo, David sayth, 'thou hast delyted

me in makinge,' as who sayth, to have delyt in the tune, how god

hath lent me in consideracion of thy makinge.

Wherof Aristotle, in the boke _de Animalibus_, saith to naturel

philosophers: 'it is a greet lyking in love of knowinge their 65

creatour; and also in knowinge of causes in kyndely thinges.'

Considred, forsoth, the formes of kyndly thinges and the shap,

a greet kindely love me shulde have to the werkman that

hem made. The crafte of a werkman is shewed in the werke.

Herfore, truly, the philosophers, with a lyvely studie, many 70

noble thinges right precious and worthy to memory writen;

and by a greet swetande travayle to us leften of causes [of] the

propertees in natures of thinges. To whiche (therfore) philosophers

it was more joy, more lykinge, more herty lust, in

kyndely vertues and maters of reson, the perfeccion by busy 75

study to knowe, than to have had al the tresour, al the richesse,

al the vainglory that the passed emperours, princes, or kinges

hadden. Therfore the names of hem, in the boke of perpetual

memory, in vertue and pees arn writen; and in the contrarye, that

is to sayne, in Styx, the foule pitte of helle, arn thilke pressed 80

that suche goodnesse hated. And bycause this book shal be of

love, and the pryme causes of steringe in that doinge, with passions

and diseses for wantinge of desyre, I wil that this book be cleped

THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE.

But now, thou reder, who is thilke that wil not in scorne 85

laughe, to here a dwarfe, or els halfe a man, say he wil rende

out the swerde of Hercules handes, and also he shuld sette

Hercules Gades a myle yet ferther; and over that, he had

power of strengthe to pulle up the spere, that Alisander the

noble might never wagge? And that, passing al thinge, to ben 90

mayster of Fraunce by might, there-as the noble gracious Edward

the thirde, for al his greet prowesse in victories, ne might al yet

conquere?

Certes, I wot wel, ther shal be mad more scorne and jape

of me, that I, so unworthily clothed al-togider in the cloudy cloude 95

of unconninge, wil putten me in prees to speke of love, or els

of the causes in that matter, sithen al the grettest clerkes han

had ynough to don, and (as who sayth) +gadered up clene toforn

hem, and with their sharpe sythes of conning al mowen, and

mad therof grete rekes and noble, ful of al plentees, to fede me 100

and many another. Envye, forsothe, commendeth nought his

reson that he hath in hayne, be it never so trusty. And al-though

these noble repers, as good workmen and worthy their hyre,

han al drawe and bounde up in the sheves, and mad many

shockes, yet have I ensample to gadere the smale crommes, 105

and fullen my walet of tho that fallen from the borde among

the smale houndes, notwithstandinge the travayle of the

almoigner, that hath drawe up in the cloth al the remissailes,

as trenchours, and the relief, to bere to the almesse.

Yet also have I leve of the noble husbande Boëce, al-though 110

I be a straunger of conninge, to come after his doctrine, and

these grete workmen, and glene my handfuls of the shedinge

after their handes; and, if me faile ought of my ful, to encrese

my porcion with that I shal drawe by privitees out of the shocke.

A slye servaunt in his owne helpe is often moche commended; 115

knowing of trouth in causes of thinges was more hardyer in the

first sechers (and so sayth Aristotle), and lighter in us that han

folowed after. For their passing +studies han fresshed our wittes,

and our understandinge han excyted, in consideracion of trouth,

by sharpnesse of their resons. Utterly these thinges be no 120

dremes ne japes, to throwe to hogges; it is lyflich mete for

children of trouthe; and as they me betiden, whan I pilgrimaged

out of my kith in winter; whan the +weder out of mesure was

boystous, and the wylde wind Boreas, as his kind asketh, with

dryinge coldes maked the wawes of the occian-see so to aryse 125

unkyndely over the commune bankes, that it was in poynte to

spille al the erthe.

THUS ENDETH THE PROLOGUE; AND HERE-AFTER FOLOWETH THE

FIRST BOOK OF THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE.

2. delyciousnesse; (_and elsewhere_, y _is often replaced by_ i). 4. none.

5. Sothely. wytte. 8. inrest poynte. 10. spring. boke. great floode. 12.

catchers. 13. hent. 18. afterwarde. 19. leudenesse. 20. comenly. 21.

leudenesse. 23. gret delyte.

24. fulfylde. 27. englysshe. 28. englysshe; _supply_ of. englyssh-. 29.

Howe. borne. 31. englyssh. englyssh-. 32. stretche. 34. propertie. 35.

facultie. lette. 39. boke. thanke worthy. 42. sene. 44. catche. 45. _I

supply_ perfeccion is; _to make sense_. soueraynst. 46. creature (_sic_).

reasonable. 47, 50. perfection. 47. sythe reason. 48. reasonable. 51. one.

54. Nowe. meane. 56. be (_for_ by). 57. arne.

60. _I supply_ of. parfyte. 61. haste. 62. delyte (_this sentence is

corrupt_). 64. saythe. 65. great. 66, 67. thyng_es_ co_n_sydred. Forsoth

(_sic_). 68. great. me (_sic_); _for_ men. 72. great. _Supply_ of. 73.

propertyes. 75. matters of reason. perfection. 76. treasour. 79. peace. 80.

stixe. 81. boke. 83. dyseases. boke. 85. nowe. 87. set. 89. pul. 92. great.

94. wote. made. 95. vnworthely.

98. gathered. toforne. 100. made. great. plentyes. 102. reason. hayn

(_sic_). 102. -thoughe. 103. hyer. 104. made. 105. gader. 106. fullyn.

amonge. 108. remyssayles. 109. relyef. 112. great. 113. encrease. 114.

priuytyes. 116. knoweyng. 118. study (_sic_). 120. reasons. 121. lyfelyche

meate. 122. betiden (_sic_); _past tense_. 123. wether. measure. 124. wynde

Borias. kynde. 125. dryenge. 127. spyl. (_rubric_) boke.

CHAPTER I.

Alas! Fortune! alas! I that som-tyme in delicious houres

was wont to enjoye blisful stoundes, am now drive by

unhappy hevinesse to bewaile my sondry yvels in tene!

Trewly, I leve, in myn herte is writte, of perdurable letters, al the

entencions of lamentacion that now ben y-nempned! For any 5

maner disese outward, in sobbing maner, sheweth sorowful yexinge

from within. Thus from my comfort I ginne to spille, sith she

that shulde me solace is fer fro my presence. Certes, her

absence is to me an helle; my sterving deth thus in wo it myneth,

that endeles care is throughout myne herte clenched; blisse of 10

my joye, that ofte me murthed, is turned in-to galle, to thinke on

thing that may not, at my wil, in armes me hente! Mirth is

chaunged in-to tene, whan swink is there continually that reste was

wont to sojourne and have dwelling-place. Thus witless, thoughtful,

sightles lokinge, I endure my penaunce in this derke prison, 15

+caitived fro frendshippe and acquaintaunce, and forsaken of al

that any +word dare speke. Straunge hath by waye of intrucioun

mad his home, there me shulde be, if reson were herd as he

shulde. Never-the-later yet hertly, lady precious Margarit, have

mynde on thy servaunt; and thinke on his disese, how lightles he 20

liveth, sithe the bemes brennende in love of thyn eyen are so

bewent, that worldes and cloudes atwene us twey wol nat suffre

my thoughtes of hem to be enlumined! Thinke that oon vertue

of a Margarite precious is, amonges many other, the sorouful to

comforte; yet +whyles that, me sorouful to comforte, is my lust 25

to have nought els at this tyme, d[r]ede ne deth ne no maner

traveyle hath no power, myn herte so moche to fade, as shulde

to here of a twinkling in your disese! Ah! god forbede that;

but yet let me deye, let me sterve withouten any mesure of

penaunce, rather than myn hertely thinking comfort in ought 30

were disesed! What may my service avayle, in absence of her

that my service shulde accepte? Is this nat endeles sorowe to

thinke? Yes, yes, god wot; myn herte breketh nigh a-sonder.

How shulde the ground, without kyndly noriture, bringen forth

any frutes? How shulde a ship, withouten a sterne, in the grete see 35

be governed? How shulde I, withouten my blisse, my herte, my

desyre, my joye, my goodnesse, endure in this contrarious prison,

that thinke every hour in the day an hundred winter? Wel may

now Eve sayn to me, 'Adam, in sorowe fallen from welth, driven

art thou out of paradise, with swete thy sustenaunce to beswinke!' 40

Depe in this pyninge pitte with wo I ligge y-stocked,

with chaynes linked of care and of tene. It is so hye from thens

I lye and the commune erth, there ne is cable in no lande maked,

that might strecche to me, to drawe me in-to blisse; ne steyers

to steye on is none; so that, without recover, endeles here to 45

endure, I wot wel, I [am] purveyed. O, where art thou now,

frendship, that som-tyme, with laughande chere, madest bothe

face and countenaunce to me-wardes? Truely, now art thou

went out of towne. But ever, me thinketh, he wereth his olde

clothes, and that the soule in the whiche the lyfe of frendship was 50

in, is drawen out from his other spirites. Now than, farewel,

frendship! and farewel, felawes! Me thinketh, ye al han taken

your leve; no force of you al at ones. But, lady of love, ye wote

what I mene; yet thinke on thy servaunt that for thy love

spilleth; al thinges have I forsake to folowen thyn hestes; 55

rewarde me with a thought, though ye do naught els. Remembraunce

of love lyth so sore under my brest, that other thought

cometh not in my mynde but gladnesse, to thinke on your goodnesse

and your mery chere; +ferdnes and sorowe, to thinke on your

wreche and your daunger; from whiche Christ me save! My 60

greet joye it is to have in meditacion the bountees, the vertues,

the nobley in you printed; sorowe and helle comen at ones, to

suppose that I be +weyved. Thus with care, sorowe, and tene

am I shapt, myn ende with dethe to make. Now, good goodly,

thinke on this. O wrecched foole that I am, fallen in-to so lowe, 65

the hete of my brenning tene hath me al defased. How shulde

ye, lady, sette prise on so foule fylthe? My conninge is thinne,

my wit is exiled; lyke to a foole naturel am I comparisoned.

Trewly, lady, but your mercy the more were, I wot wel al my

labour were in ydel; your mercy than passeth right. God graunt 70

that proposicion to be verifyed in me; so that, by truste of good

hope, I mowe come to the haven of ese. And sith it is impossible,

the colours of your qualitees to chaunge: and forsothe I

wot wel, wem ne spot may not abyde there so noble vertue

haboundeth, so that the defasing to you is verily [un]imaginable, 75

as countenaunce of goodnesse with encresinge vertue is so in you

knit, to abyde by necessary maner: yet, if the revers mighte falle

(which is ayenst kynde), I +wot wel myn herte ne shulde therfore

naught flitte, by the leste poynt of gemetrye; so sadly is it

+souded, that away from your service in love may he not departe. 80

O love, whan shal I ben plesed? O charitee, whan shal I ben

esed? O good goodly, whan shal the dyce turne? O ful of

vertue, do the chaunce of comfort upwarde to falle! O love,

whan wolt thou thinke on thy servaunt? I can no more but here,

out-cast of al welfare, abyde the day of my dethe, or els to see the 85

sight that might al my wellinge sorowes voyde, and of the flode

make an ebbe. These diseses mowen wel, by duresse of sorowe,

make my lyfe to unbodye, and so for to dye; but certes ye, lady,

in a ful perfeccion of love ben so knit with my soule, that deth

may not thilke knotte unbynde ne departe; so that ye and my 90

soule togider +in endeles blisse shulde dwelle; and there shal

my soule at the ful ben esed, that he may have your presence, to

shewe th'entent of his desyres. Ah, dere god! that shal be a

greet joye! Now, erthely goddesse, take regarde of thy servant,

though I be feble; for thou art wont to prayse them better that 95

wolde conne serve in love, al be he ful mener than kinges or

princes that wol not have that vertue in mynde.

Now, precious Margaryte, that with thy noble vertue hast

drawen me in-to love first, me weninge therof to have blisse,

[ther]-as galle and aloes are so moche spronge, that savour of 100

swetnesse may I not ataste. Alas! that your benigne eyen, in

whiche that mercy semeth to have al his noriture, nil by no

waye tourne the clerenesse of mercy to me-wardes! Alas! that

your brennande vertues, shyning amonges al folk, and enlumininge

al other people by habundaunce of encresing, sheweth to me 105

but smoke and no light! These thinges to thinke in myn herte

maketh every day weping in myn eyen to renne. These liggen

on my backe so sore, that importable burthen me semeth on my

backe to be charged; it maketh me backwarde to meve, whan

my steppes by comune course even-forth pretende. These 110

thinges also, on right syde and lift, have me so envolved with

care, that wanhope of helpe is throughout me ronne; trewly,

+I leve, that graceles is my fortune, whiche that ever sheweth it

me-wardes by a cloudy disese, al redy to make stormes of tene;

and the blisful syde halt stil awayward, and wol it not suffre to 115

me-wardes to turne; no force, yet wol I not ben conquered.

O, alas! that your nobley, so moche among al other creatures

commended by +flowinge streme +of al maner vertues, but

ther ben wonderful, I not whiche that let the flood to come

in-to my soule; wherefore, purely mated with sorowe thorough-sought, 120

my-selfe I crye on your goodnesse to have pitè on this

caytif, that in the in[ne]rest degree of sorowe and disese is left,

and, without your goodly wil, from any helpe and recovery.

These sorowes may I not sustene, but-if my sorowe shulde be

told and to you-wardes shewed; although moche space is bitwene 125

us twayne, yet me thinketh that by suche +joleyvinge wordes my

disese ginneth ebbe. Trewly, me thinketh that the sowne of my

lamentacious weping is right now flowe in-to your presence, and

there cryeth after mercy and grace, to which thing (me semeth)

thee list non answere to yeve, but with a deynous chere ye 130

commaunden it to avoide; but god forbid that any word shuld of

you springe, to have so litel routh! Pardè, pitè and mercy in

every Margarite is closed by kynde amonges many other vertues,

by qualitees of comfort; but comfort is to me right naught worth,

withouten mercy and pitè of you alone; whiche thinges hastely 135

god me graunt for his mercy!

CH. I. 2. enioy. 3. sondrye. 5. nowe. 6. disease outwarde. 7. comforte. 8.

ferre. 9. hell. dethe. 10. endelesse. 12. hent. 13. swynke. 14. dwellynge-.

wytlesse. 15. syghtlesse. prisone. 16. caytisned (_for_ caytifued). 17.

wode (!); _for_ worde; _read_ word. 18. made. reason. herde. 20. disease.

21. beames. 22. _For_ be-went, Th. _has_ be-we_n_t. 23. one. 25. wyl of;

_apparently an error for_ whyles (_which I adopt_). luste. 26. dede (_for_

drede). 27. myne. 28. twynckelynge. disease. 29. lette (_twice_). dey.

measure. 30. myne. comforte. 31. diseased. maye. aueyle. 32. endlesse.

33. wote; myne hert breaketh. 34. howe. grou_n_de. forthe. 35. howe.

shippe. great. 36. Howe. 39. nowe. sayne. 40. arte. weate. 44. stretche.

45. stey. endlesse. 46. wotte. _I supply_ am. spurveyde. arte. nowe. 47.

frenshyppe (_sic_). 48. nowe arte. 49. weareth. 51. Nowe. 53. leaue. 57.

lythe. 59. frendes (_sic_); _for_ ferdnes: _cf._ p. 9, l. 9. 60. Christe.

61. great. bounties. 62. hel. 63. veyned (_sic_); _for_ weyued. 64. shapte.

Nowe. 65. wretched. 66. heate. 68. wytte.

69. wote. 72. ease. sythe. 73. qualyties. 74. wote. wemme ne spotte maye.

75. _Read_ unimaginable. 77. knytte. fal. 78. wol wel (_for_ wot wel). 80.

sonded; _read_ souded. maye. 81. pleased. charyte. 82. eased. 83. comforte.

fal. 85. out caste. daye. se. 86. flodde. 87. diseases. 89. perfectyon.

knytte. dethe. 91. togyther is endelesse in blysse(!). dwel. 92. eased. 93.

thentent. 94. great. Nowe. 95. arte wonte. 98. Nowe. haste. 100. _I supply_

ther. 104. folke.

105. encreasing. 110. forthe. 112, 113. trewly and leue; _read_ trewly I

leve. 113. gracelesse. 114. disease. 115. halte. 117. (_The sentence

beginning_ O, alas _seems hopelessly corrupt; there are pause-marks after_

vertues _and_ wonderful.) 118. folowynge; _read_ flowinge. by; _read_ of.

119. flode. 122. caytife. inrest. disease. lefte. 124. maye. 125. tolde.

126. ioleynynge (_sic_). 127. disease. 128. nowe. 130. the lyst none. 131.

worde. 134. qualites of comforte. worthe.

CHAPTER II.

Rehersinge these thinges and many other, without tyme

or moment of rest, me semed, for anguisshe of disese, that

al-togider I was ravisshed, I can not telle how; but hoolly all my

passions and felinges weren lost, as it semed, for the tyme; and

sodainly a maner of drede lighte in me al at ones; nought suche 5

fere as folk have of an enemy, that were mighty and wolde hem

greve or don hem disese. For, I trowe, this is wel knowe to many

persones, that otherwhyle, if a man be in his soveraignes presence,

a maner of ferdnesse crepeth in his herte, not for harme, but of

goodly subjeccion; namely, as men reden that aungels ben aferde 10

of our saviour in heven. And pardè, there ne is, ne may no

passion of disese be; but it is to mene, that angels ben adradde,

not by +ferdnes of drede, sithen they ben perfitly blissed, [but]

as [by] affeccion of wonderfulnesse and by service of obedience.

Suche ferde also han these lovers in presence of their loves, and 15

subjectes aforn their soveraynes. Right so with ferdnesse myn

herte was caught. And I sodainly astonied, there entred in-to

the place there I was logged a lady, the semeliest and most

goodly to my sight that ever to-forn apered to any creature; and

trewly, in the blustringe of her looke, she yave gladnesse and 20

comfort sodaynly to al my wittes; and right so she doth to

every wight that cometh in her presence. And for she was so

goodly, as me thought, myn herte began somdele to be enbolded,

and wexte a litel hardy to speke; but yet, with a quakinge

voyce, as I durste, I salued her, and enquired what she was; 25

and why she, so worthy to sight, dayned to entre in-to so foule

a dongeon, and namely a prison, without leve of my kepers.

For certes, al-though the vertue of dedes of mercy strecchen to

visiten the poore prisoners, and hem, after that facultees ben had,

to comforte, me semed that I was so fer fallen in-to miserye and 30

wrecched hid caytifnesse, that me shulde no precious thing

neighe; and also, that for my sorowe every wight shulde ben

hevy, and wisshe my recovery. But whan this lady had somdele

apperceyved, as wel by my wordes as by my chere, what thought

besied me within, with a good womanly countenance she sayde 35

these wordes:--

'O my nory, wenest thou that my maner be, to foryete my

frendes or my servauntes? Nay,' quod she, 'it is my ful entente

to visyte and comforte al my frendshippes and allyes, as wel in

tyme of perturbacion as of moost propertee of blisse; in me shal 40

unkyndnesse never be founden: and also, sithen I have so fewe

especial trewe now in these dayes. Wherefore I may wel at more

leysar come to hem that me deserven; and if my cominge may

in any thinge avayle, wete wel, I wol come often.'

'Now, good lady,' quod I, 'that art so fayre on to loke, 45

reyninge hony by thy wordes, blisse of paradys arn thy lokinges,

joye and comfort are thy movinges. What is thy name? How

is it that in you is so mokel werkinge vertues enpight, as me

semeth, and in none other creature that ever saw I with myne

eyen?' 50

'My disciple,' quod she, 'me wondreth of thy wordes and on

thee, that for a litel disese hast foryeten my name. Wost thou

not wel that I am LOVE, that first thee brought to thy service?'

'O good lady,' quod I, 'is this worship to thee or to thyn

excellence, for to come in-to so foule a place? Pardè, somtyme, 55

tho I was in prosperitè and with forayne goodes envolved, I had

mokil to done to drawe thee to myn hostel; and yet many

werninges thou madest er thou liste fully to graunte, thyn home

to make at my dwelling-place; and now thou comest goodly by

thyn owne vyse, to comforte me with wordes; and so there-thorough 60

I ginne remembre on passed gladnesse. Trewly, lady,

I ne wot whether I shal say welcome or non, sithen thy coming

wol as moche do me tene and sorowe, as gladnesse and mirthe.

See why: for that me comforteth to thinke on passed gladnesse,

that me anoyeth efte to be in doinge. Thus thy cominge bothe 65

gladdeth and teneth, and that is cause of moche sorowe. Lo, lady,

how than I am comforted by your comminge'; and with that

I gan in teeres to distille, and tenderly wepe.

'Now, certes,' quod Love, 'I see wel, and that me over-thinketh,

that wit in thee fayleth, and [thou] art in pointe 70

to dote.'

'Trewly,' quod I, 'that have ye maked, and that ever wol

I rue.'

'Wottest thou not wel,' quod she, 'that every shepherde ought

by reson to seke his sperkelande sheep, that arn ronne in-to 75

wildernesse among busshes and perils, and hem to their pasture

ayen-bringe, and take on hem privy besy cure of keping? And

though the unconninge sheep scattred wolde ben lost, renning to

wildernesse, and to desertes drawe, or els wolden putte hem-selfe

to the swalowinge wolfe, yet shal the shepherde, by businesse and 80

travayle, so putte him forth, that he shal not lete hem be lost by

no waye. A good shepherde putteth rather his lyf to ben lost for

his sheep. But for thou shalt not wene me being of werse

condicion, trewly, for everich of my folke, and for al tho that to

me-ward be knit in any condicion, I wol rather dye than suffre 85

hem through errour to ben spilte. For me liste, and it me lyketh,

of al myne a shepherdesse to be cleped. Wost thou not wel,

I fayled never wight, but he me refused and wolde negligently go

with unkyndenesse? And yet, pardè, have I many such holpe

and releved, and they have ofte me begyled; but ever, at the ende, 90

it discendeth in their owne nekkes. Hast thou not rad how kinde

I was to Paris, Priamus sone of Troy? How Jason me falsed,

for al his false behest? How Cesars +swink, I lefte it for no tene

til he was troned in my blisse for his service? What!' quod she,

'most of al, maked I not a loveday bytwene god and mankynde, 95

and chees a mayde to be nompere, to putte the quarel at ende?

Lo! how I have travayled to have thank on al sydes, and yet list

me not to reste, and I might fynde on +whom I shulde werche.

But trewly, myn owne disciple, bycause I have thee founde, at al

assayes, in thy wil to be redy myn hestes to have folowed, and 100

hast ben trewe to that Margarite-perle that ones I thee shewed;

and she alwaye, ayenward, hath mad but daungerous chere;

I am come, in propre person, to putte thee out of errours, and

make thee gladde by wayes of reson; so that sorow ne disese shal

no more hereafter thee amaistry. Wherthrough I hope thou 105

shalt lightly come to the grace, that thou longe hast desyred, of

thilke jewel. Hast thou not herd many ensamples, how I have

comforted and releved the scholers of my lore? Who hath

worthyed kinges in the felde? Who hath honoured ladyes in

boure by a perpetuel mirrour of their tr[o]uthe in my service? 110

Who hath caused worthy folk to voyde vyce and shame? Who

hath holde cytees and realmes in prosperitè? If thee liste clepe

ayen thyn olde remembraunce, thou coudest every point of this

declare in especial; and say that I, thy maistresse, have be cause,

causing these thinges and many mo other.' 115

'Now, y-wis, madame,' quod I, 'al these thinges I knowe wel

my-selfe, and that thyn excellence passeth the understanding of

us beestes; and that no mannes wit erthely may comprehende thy

vertues.'

'Wel than,' quod she, 'for I see thee in disese and sorowe, 120

I wot wel thou art oon of my nories; I may not suffre thee so to

make sorowe, thyn owne selfe to shende. But I my-selfe come

to be thy fere, thyn hevy charge to make to seme the lesse. For wo

is him that is alone; and to the sorye, to ben moned by a sorouful

wight, it is greet gladnesse. Right so, with my sicke frendes I am 125

sicke; and with sorie I can not els but sorowe make, til whan

I have hem releved in suche wyse, that gladnesse, in a maner of

counterpaysing, shal restore as mokil in joye as the passed hevinesse

biforn did in tene. And also,' quod she, 'whan any of my

servauntes ben alone in solitary place, I have yet ever besied me 130

to be with hem, in comfort of their hertes, and taught hem to

make songes of playnte and of blisse, and to endyten letters of

rethorike in queynt understondinges, and to bethinke hem in what

wyse they might best their ladies in good service plese; and

also to lerne maner in countenaunce, in wordes, and in bering, 135

and to ben meke and lowly to every wight, his name and fame to

encrese; and to yeve gret yeftes and large, that his renomè may

springen. But thee therof have I excused; for thy losse and thy

grete costages, wherthrough thou art nedy, arn nothing to me

unknowen; but I hope to god somtyme it shal ben amended, as 140

thus I sayd. In norture have I taught al myne; and in curtesye

made hem expert, their ladies hertes to winne; and if any wolde

[b]en deynous or proude, or be envious or of wrecches acqueyntaunce,

hasteliche have I suche voyded out of my scole. For

al vyces trewly I hate; vertues and worthinesse in al my power 145

I avaunce.'

'Ah! worthy creature,' quod I, 'and by juste cause the name

of goddesse dignely ye mowe bere! In thee lyth the grace

thorough whiche any creature in this worlde hath any goodnesse.

Trewly, al maner of blisse and preciousnesse in vertue out of 150

thee springen and wellen, as brokes and rivers proceden from

their springes. And lyke as al waters by kynde drawen to the see,

so al kyndely thinges thresten, by ful appetyte of desyre, to drawe

after thy steppes, and to thy presence aproche as to their kyndely

perfeccion. How dare than beestes in this worlde aught forfete 155

ayenst thy devyne purveyaunce? Also, lady, ye knowen al the

privy thoughtes; in hertes no counsayl may ben hid from your

knowing. Wherfore I wot wel, lady, that ye knowe your-selfe that

I in my conscience am and have ben willinge to your service, al

coude I never do as I shulde; yet, forsothe, fayned I never to 160

love otherwyse than was in myn herte; and if I coude have made

chere to one and y-thought another, as many other doon alday

afore myn eyen, I trowe it wolde not me have vayled.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'haddest thou so don, I wolde not now

have thee here visited.' 165

'Ye wete wel, lady, eke,' quod I, 'that I have not played raket,

"nettil in, docke out," and with the wethercocke waved; and

trewly, there ye me sette, by acorde of my conscience I wolde

not flye, til ye and reson, by apert strength, maden myn herte to

tourne.' 170

'In good fayth,' quod she, 'I have knowe thee ever of tho

condicions; and sithen thou woldest (in as moch as in thee was)

a made me privy of thy counsayl and juge of thy conscience

(though I forsook it in tho dayes til I saw better my tyme), wolde

never god that I shuld now fayle; but ever I wol be redy 175

witnessing thy sothe, in what place that ever I shal, ayenst al tho

that wol the contrary susteyne. And for as moche as to me is

naught unknowen ne hid of thy privy herte, but al hast thou tho

thinges mad to me open at the ful, that hath caused my cominge

in-to this prison, to voyde the webbes of thyne eyen, to make thee 180

clerely to see the errours thou hast ben in. And bycause that

men ben of dyvers condicions, some adradde to saye a sothe, and

some for a sothe anon redy to fighte, and also that I may not my-selfe

ben in place to withsaye thilke men that of thee speken

otherwyse than the sothe, I wol and I charge thee, in vertue of 185

obedience that thou to me owest, to wryten my wordes and sette

hem in wrytinges, that they mowe, as my witnessinge, ben

noted among the people. For bookes written neyther dreden ne

shamen, ne stryve conne; but only shewen the entente of the

wryter, and yeve remembraunce to the herer; and if any wol in 190

thy presence saye any-thing to tho wryters, loke boldely; truste on

Mars to answere at the ful. For certes, I shal him enfourme of

al the trouthe in thy love, with thy conscience; so that of his

helpe thou shalt not varye at thy nede. I trowe the strongest and

the beste that may be founde wol not transverse thy wordes; 195

wherof than woldest thou drede?'

CH. II. 2. disease. 3. tel howe. holy. 4. loste. 5. light. 6. feare. folke.

7. done. disease. 9. ferdenesse. 10. subiection. 11. maye. 12. disease.

meane. 13. frendes; _read_ ferdnes; _see_ l. 16. perfytely. _I supply_ but

_and_ by. 14. affection. 16. aforne. ferdenesse. 18. lodged. moste. 19.

to-forne. 21. comforte sodaynely. dothe. 23. myne. beganne. 27. prisone.

leaue. 28. al-thoughe. stretchen. 29. faculties. 30. ferre. 31. wretched

hyd. thynge. 33. heauy.

37. wenyst. foryet. 38. naye. 39. frenshippes. alyes. 40. propertye. 42.

nowe. 42, 43. maye. 45. Nowe. 46. honny. paradise. 47. comforte. howe. 49.

sawe. 52. the. disease haste. Woste. 53. the. 54. worshyppe. the. thyne.

57. the. 58. graunt thyne. 59. nowe. 60. thyne. 61. thoroughe. 62. wotte.

none. 64. se. 67. howe. 69. Nowe. se.

70. wytte in the. _I supply_ thou. arte. 74. shepeherde. 75. shepe. arne.

76. amonge. 78. tho. shepe. loste. 79. put. 80. shepeherde. 81. put.

forthe. let. loste. 82. shepeherde. lyfe. loste. 83. shepe. shalte. 85.

mewarde. 86. throughe. 91. Haste. radde howe. 92. so_n_ne. 93. _For_ false

_read_ faire. howe Sesars sonke (_sic_); _corrupt_. 95. louedaye. 96.

chese. put. 97. howe. thanke. 98. rest. home; _read_ whom. 99. the. 101.

haste. the. 102. ayenwarde. made. 103. put the. 104. the. reason. disease.

105. the. 106. shalte. haste. 107. Haste. herde. howe. 111. folke. 112.

cyties. the. cleape. 113. poynte. 116. Nowe. 118. wytte. 120. se the in

disease. 121. wote. arte one. maye. the. 123. thyne. 125. great. 129.

byforne. 131. comforte. 134. please. 135. bearyng. 137. encrease. maye.

138. the. 139. great. wherthroughe. arte. arne no-thinge.

141. thus as I; _om._ as. 143. endeynous; _read_ ben deynous. wretches.

144. schole. 148. beare. the lythe. 151. the. 155. perfection. Howe. 157.

counsayle maye. hydde. 158. wote. 162. doone aldaye. 164. done. nowe. 165.

the. 166. playde. 169. reason. aperte. 171. faythe. the. 172. the. 173.

counsayle. 174. forsoke. 175. nowe.

178. hert. 179. made. 180. the. 181. se. 183. anone. fyght. maye. 184.

withsay. the. 185. the. 188. amonge. 189. onely. 191. -thynge. 194. shalte.

195. maye. transuers.

CHAPTER III.

Gretly was I tho gladded of these wordes, and (as who

saith) wexen somdel light in herte; both for the auctoritè

of witnesse, and also for sikernesse of helpe of the forsayd

beheste, and sayd:--

'Trewly, lady, now am I wel gladded through comfort of 5

your wordes. Be it now lykinge unto your nobley to shewe

whiche folk diffame your servauntes, sithe your service ought

above al other thinges to ben commended.'

'Yet,' quod she, 'I see wel thy soule is not al out of the

amased cloude. Thee were better to here thing that thee might 10

lighte out of thyn hevy charge and after knowing of thyn owne

helpe, than to stirre swete wordes and such resons to here;

for in a thoughtful soule (and namely suche oon as thou art)

wol not yet suche thinges sinken. Come of, therfore, and let

me seen thy hevy charge, that I may the lightlier for thy comfort 15

purveye.'

'Now, certes, lady,' quod I, 'the moste comfort I might have

were utterly to wete me be sure in herte of that Margaryte I

serve; and so I thinke to don with al mightes, whyle my lyfe

dureth.' 20

'Than,' quod she, 'mayst thou therafter, in suche wyse that

misplesaunce ne entre?'

'In good fayth,' quod I, 'there shal no misplesaunce be

caused through trespace on my syde.'

'And I do thee to weten,' quod she, 'I sette never yet person 25

to serve in no place (but-if he caused the contrary in defautes

and trespaces) that he ne spedde of his service.'

'Myn owne erthly lady,' quod I tho, 'and yet remembre to

your worthinesse how long sithen, by many revolving of yeres,

in tyme whan Octobre his leve ginneth take and Novembre 30

sheweth him to sight, whan bernes ben ful of goodes as is the

nutte on every halke; and than good lond-tillers ginne shape

for the erthe with greet travayle, to bringe forth more corn to

mannes sustenaunce, ayenst the nexte yeres folowing. In suche

tyme of plentee he that hath an home and is wyse, list not to 35

wander mervayles to seche, but he be constrayned or excited.

Oft the lothe thing is doon, by excitacion of other mannes

opinion, whiche wolden fayne have myn abydinge. [Tho gan I]

take in herte of luste to travayle and see the wynding of the erthe

in that tyme of winter. By woodes that large stretes wern in, 40

by smale pathes that swyn and hogges hadden made, as lanes

with ladels their maste to seche, I walked thinkinge alone

a wonder greet whyle; and the grete beestes that the woode

haunten and adorneth al maner forestes, and heerdes gonne to

wilde. Than, er I was war, I neyghed to a see-banke; and for 45

ferde of the beestes "shipcraft" I cryde. For, lady, I trowe ye

wete wel your-selfe, nothing is werse than the beestes that

shulden ben tame, if they cacche her wildenesse, and ginne ayen

waxe ramage. Thus forsothe was I a-ferd, and to shippe me

hyed. 50

Than were there y-nowe to lacche myn handes, and drawe me

to shippe, of whiche many I knew wel the names. Sight was

the first, Lust was another, Thought was the thirde; and Wil eke

was there a mayster; these broughten me within-borde of this

shippe of Traveyle. So whan the sayl was sprad, and this ship 55

gan to move, the wind and water gan for to ryse, and overthwartly

to turne the welken. The wawes semeden as they kiste togider;

but often under colour of kissinge is mokel old hate prively

closed and kept. The storm so straungely and in a devouring

maner gan so faste us assayle, that I supposed the date of my 60

deth shulde have mad there his ginning. Now up, now downe,

now under the wawe and now aboven was my ship a greet

whyle. And so by mokel duresse of +weders and of stormes,

and with greet avowing [of] pilgrimages, I was driven to an yle,

where utterly I wende first to have be rescowed; but trewly, +at 65

the first ginning, it semed me so perillous the haven to cacche,

that but thorow grace I had ben comforted, of lyfe I was ful

dispayred. Trewly, lady, if ye remembre a-right of al maner

thinges, your-selfe cam hastely to sene us see-driven, and to

weten what we weren. But first ye were deynous of chere, after 70

whiche ye gonne better a-lighte; and ever, as me thought, ye

lived in greet drede of disese; it semed so by your chere.

And whan I was certifyed of your name, the lenger I loked in

you, the more I you goodly dradde; and ever myn herte on you

opened the more; and so in a litel tyme my ship was out of 75

mynde. But, lady, as ye me ladde, I was war bothe of beestes

and of fisshes, a greet nombre thronging togider; among whiche

a muskel, in a blewe shel, had enclosed a Margaryte-perle, the

moste precious and best that ever to-forn cam in my sight.

And ye tolden your-selfe, that ilke jewel in his kinde was so 80

good and so vertuous, that her better shulde I never finde, al

sought I ther-after to the worldes ende. And with that I held

my pees a greet whyle; and ever sithen I have me bethought on

the man that sought the precious Margarytes; and whan he had

founden oon to his lyking, he solde al his good to bye that jewel. 85

Y-wis, thought I, (and yet so I thinke), now have I founden the

jewel that myn herte desyreth; wherto shulde I seche further?

Trewly, now wol I stinte, and on this Margaryte I sette me for

ever: now than also, sithen I wiste wel it was your wil that

I shulde so suche a service me take; and so to desyre that thing, 90

of whiche I never have blisse. There liveth non but he hath

disese; your might than that brought me to suche service, that to

me is cause of sorowe and of joye. I wonder of your worde that

ye sayn, "to bringen men in-to joye"; and, pardè, ye wete wel

that defaut ne trespace may not resonably ben put to me-wardes, 95

as fer as my conscience knoweth.

But of my disese me list now a whyle to speke, and to enforme

you in what maner of blisse ye have me thronge. For truly

I wene, that al gladnesse, al joye, and al mirthe is beshet under

locke, and the keye throwe in suche place that it may not be 100

founde. My brenning wo hath altred al my hewe. Whan

I shulde slepe, I walowe and I thinke, and me disporte. Thus

combred, I seme that al folk had me mased. Also, lady myne,

desyre hath longe dured, some speking to have; or els at the lest

have ben enmoysed with sight; and for wantinge of these thinges 105

my mouth wolde, and he durst, pleyne right sore, sithen yvels

for my goodnesse arn manyfolde to me yolden. I wonder, lady,

trewly, save evermore your reverence, how ye mowe, for shame,

suche thinges suffre on your servaunt to be so multiplied.

Wherfore, kneling with a lowe herte, I pray you to rue on this 110

caytif, that of nothing now may serve. Good lady, if ye liste,

now your help to me shewe, that am of your privyest servantes

at al assayes in this tyme, and under your winges of proteccion.

No help to me-wardes is shapen; how shal than straungers in

any wyse after socour loke, whan I, that am so privy, yet of helpe 115

I do fayle? Further may I not, but thus in this prison abyde;

what bondes and chaynes me holden, lady, ye see wel your-selfe.

A renyant forjuged hath not halfe the care. But thus, syghing

and sobbing, I wayle here alone; and nere it for comfort of your

presence, right here wolde I sterve. And yet a litel am I gladded, 120

that so goodly suche grace and non hap have I hent, graciously

to fynde the precious Margarite, that (al other left) men shulde

bye, if they shulde therfore selle al her substaunce. Wo is me,

that so many let-games and purpose-brekers ben maked wayters,

suche prisoners as I am to overloke and to hinder; and, for 125

suche lettours, it is hard any suche jewel to winne. Is this, lady,

an honour to thy deitee? Me thinketh, by right, suche people

shulde have no maistrye, ne ben overlokers over none of thy

servauntes. Trewly, were it leful unto you, to al the goddes

wolde I playne, that ye rule your devyne purveyaunce amonges 130

your servantes nothing as ye shulde. Also, lady, my moeble is

insuffysaunt to countervayle the price of this jewel, or els to

make th'eschange. Eke no wight is worthy suche perles to were

but kinges or princes or els their peres. This jewel, for vertue,

wold adorne and make fayre al a realme; the nobley of vertue is 135

so moche, that her goodnesse overal is commended. Who is it

that wolde not wayle, but he might suche richesse have at his

wil? The vertue therof out of this prison may me deliver, and

naught els. And if I be not ther-thorow holpen, I see my-selfe

withouten recovery. Although I might hence voyde, yet wolde 140

I not; I wolde abyde the day that destenee hath me ordeyned,

whiche I suppose is without amendement; so sore is my herte

bounden, that I may thinken non other. Thus strayte, lady,

hath sir Daunger laced me in stockes, I leve it be not your wil;

and for I see you taken so litel hede, as me thinketh, and wol 145

not maken by your might the vertue in mercy of the Margaryte

on me for to strecche, so as ye mowe wel in case that you liste,

my blisse and my mirthe arn feld; sicknesse and sorowe ben

alwaye redy. The cope of tene is wounde aboute al my body,

that stonding is me best; unneth may I ligge for pure misesy 150

sorowe. And yet al this is litel ynough to be the ernest-silver in

forwarde of this bargayne; for treble-folde so mokel muste I suffer

er tyme come of myn ese. For he is worthy no welthe, that may

no wo suffer. And certes, I am hevy to thinke on these thinges;

but who shal yeve me water ynough to drinke, lest myn eyen 155

drye, for renning stremes of teres? Who shal waylen with me

myn owne happy hevinesse? Who shal counsaile me now in

my lyking tene, and in my goodly harse? I not. For ever the

more I brenne, the more I coveyte; the more that I sorow, the

more thrist I in gladnesse. Who shal than yeve me a contrarious 160

drink, to stanche the thurste of my blisful bitternesse? Lo, thus

I brenne and I drenche; I shiver and I swete. To this reversed

yvel was never yet ordeyned salve; forsoth al +leches ben unconning,

save the Margaryte alone, any suche remedye to purveye.'

CH. III. 1. gladed; _see_ l. 5. 2. somdele. 5. nowe. comforte. 6. nowe. 7.

folke. 9. se. 10. the (_twice_). 11. light. 13. one. arte.

15. sene. comforte. 16. puruey. 17. Nowe. comforte. 21. mayste. 25. the.

set. 29. howe. 30. leaue. 32. londe-. 33. great. forthe. corne. 35.

plentie. lyste. 37. doone. 38. _I supply_ Tho gan I. 39. se. 40. werne. 41.

swyne. 43. great. great. 44. gone; _read_ gonne. 45. ware. 46. shypcrafte.

48. catche. 49. a-ferde. 51. lache.

52. many; _read_ meynee. knewe. 55. sayle. shyppe. 56. wynde. 58. olde. 59.

kepte. storme. 61. made. 61, 62. nowe. 62. shyppe. 62, 64. great. 63.

wethers; _read_ weders. 64. _I supply_ of. 65. as; _read_ at. 66. catche.

67. thorowe. 69. came. 71. a-lyght. 72. great. disease. 75. shyppe. 76.

lad. ware. 77. great. amonge. 79. to-forne came. 82. helde. 83. peace.

great. 85. one. 86. nowe. 87. myne.

88. nowe. 89. Nowe. 91. none. 92. disease. 94. sayne. 95. reasonably. 96.

ferre. 97. disease. 103. folke. 106. mouthe. 107. arne. 108. howe. 111.

caytife. 112. nowe. helpe. 113. protection. 114. helpe. howe. 115. socoure.

116. maye. 117. se. 119. comforte. 120. gladed. 121. none. hente. 122.

lefte. 123. sel.

126. harde. 127. deytie. 133. weare. 139. ther-thorowe. se. 141. daye.

destenye. 143. maye. none. 145. se. 147. stretche. 148. arne. 150. miseasy.

151. ynoughe. 153. ease. maye. 156. teares. 157. myne. nowe. 158. harse

(_sic_); _for_ harme?

161. drinke. 162. sweate. 163. lyches (for leches). 164. puruey.

CHAPTER IV.

And with these wordes I brast out to wepe, that every teere

of myne eyen, for greetnesse semed they boren out the bal of

my sight, and that al the water had ben out-ronne. Than thought

me that Love gan a litel to hevye for miscomfort of my chere;

and gan soberly and in esy maner speke, wel avysinge what 5

she sayd. Comenly the wyse speken esily and softe for many

skilles. Oon is, their wordes are the better bileved; and also, in

esy spekinge, avysement men may cacche, what to putte forth

and what to holden in. And also, the auctoritè of esy wordes is

the more; and eke, they yeven the more understandinge to other 10

intencion of the mater. Right so this lady esely and in a softe

maner gan say these wordes.

¶ 'Mervayle,' quod she, 'greet it is, that by no maner of semblaunt,

as fer as I can espye, thou list not to have any recour;

but ever thou playnest and sorowest, and wayes of remedye, for 15

folisshe wilfulnesse, thee list not to seche. But enquyre of thy

next frendes, that is, thyne inwit and me that have ben thy

maystresse, and the recour and fyne of thy disese; [f]or of disese is

gladnesse and joy, with a ful +vessel so helded, that it quencheth

the felinge of the firste tenes. But thou that were wont not only 20

these thinges remembre in thyne herte, but also fooles therof to

enfourmen, in adnullinge of their errours and distroying of their

derke opinions, and in comfort of their sere thoughtes; now canst

thou not ben comfort of thyn owne soule, in thinking of these

thinges. O where hast thou be so longe commensal, that hast so 25

mikel eeten of the potages of foryetfulnesse, and dronken so of

ignorance, that the olde souking[es] whiche thou haddest of me

arn amaystred and lorn fro al maner of knowing? O, this is

a worthy person to helpe other, that can not counsayle him-selfe!'

And with these wordes, for pure and stronge shame, I wox al 30

reed.

And she than, seing me so astonyed by dyvers stoundes,

sodainly (which thing kynde hateth) gan deliciously me comforte

with sugred wordes, putting me in ful hope that I shulde the

Margarite getten, if I folowed her hestes; and gan with a fayre 35

clothe to wypen the teres that hingen on my chekes; and than

sayd I in this wyse.

'Now, wel of wysdom and of al welthe, withouten thee may

nothing ben lerned; thou berest the keyes of al privy thinges.

In vayne travayle men to cacche any stedship, but-if ye, lady, 40

first the locke unshet. Ye, lady, lerne us the wayes and the

by-pathes to heven. Ye, lady, maken al the hevenly bodyes

goodly and benignely to don her cours, that governen us beestes

here on erthe. Ye armen your servauntes ayenst al debates with

imperciable harneys; ye setten in her hertes insuperable blood of 45

hardinesse; ye leden hem to the parfit good. Yet al thing

desyreth ye werne no man of helpe, that +wol don your

lore. Graunt me now a litel of your grace, al my sorowes

to cese.'

'Myne owne servaunt,' quod she, 'trewly thou sittest nye 50

myne herte; and thy badde chere gan sorily me greve. But

amonge thy playning wordes, me thought, thou allegest thinges to

be letting of thyne helpinge and thy grace to hinder; wherthrough,

me thinketh, that wanhope is crope thorough thyn hert. God

forbid that nyse unthrifty thought shulde come in thy mynde, 55

thy wittes to trouble; sithen every thing in coming is contingent.

Wherfore make no more thy proposicion by an impossible.

But now, I praye thee reherse me ayen tho thinges that

thy mistrust causen; and thilke thinges I thinke by reson to

distroyen, and putte ful hope in thyn herte. What understondest 60

thou there,' quod she, 'by that thou saydest, "many let-games

are thyn overlokers?" And also by "that thy moeble is insuffysaunt"?

I not what thou therof menest.'

'Trewly,' quod I, 'by the first I say, that janglers evermore

arn spekinge rather of yvel than of good; for every age of man 65

rather enclyneth to wickednesse, than any goodnesse to avaunce.

Also false wordes springen so wyde, by the stering of false lying

tonges, that fame als swiftely flyeth to her eres and sayth many

wicked tales; and as soone shal falsenesse ben leved as tr[o]uthe,

for al his gret sothnesse. 70

'Now by that other,' quod I, 'me thinketh thilke jewel so

precious, that to no suche wrecche as I am wolde vertue therof

extende; and also I am to feble in worldly joyes, any suche

jewel to countrevayle. For suche people that worldly joyes han

at her wil ben sette at the highest degree, and most in reverence 75

ben accepted. For false wening maketh felicitè therin to be

supposed; but suche caytives as I am evermore ben hindred.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'take good hede, and I shal by reson to

thee shewen, that al these thinges mowe nat lette thy purpos

by the leest point that any wight coude pricke. 80

CH. IV. 2. great-. 4. heauy. 5. easy. 6. easyly. 7. One. 8. easy speakynge.

catche. put forthe. 9. easy. 11. ladye easely. 13. great. 14. ferre. 16.

the lyste. 17. inwytte. 18. disease (_twice_). 19. nessel; _misprint for_

uessel. 20. wonte. onely. 22. distroyeng. 23. comforte. seare. 24.

comforte. 25. haste. 27. soukyng. 28. arne.

30. woxe. 33. thynge. 36. teares. 38. Nowe. wysedom. the. 39. bearest. 40.

catche. 43. done her course. 45. blode. 46. leaden. parfyte. thynge. 47.

wern. wele; _read_ wol. done. 48. nowe. 49. cease. 53. wherthroughe. 58.

nowe. the. 59. reason. 60. put. 61. lette-games. 63. meanest. 65. arne.

67. steeryng. lyeng. 68. eares. 72. wretche. 78. reason. 79. the. let.

purpose.

CHAPTER V.

Remembrest nat,' quod she, 'ensample is oon of the

strongest maner[es], as for to preve a mannes purpos?

Than if I now, by ensample, enduce thee to any proposicion, is

it nat preved by strength?'

'Yes, forsothe,' quod I. 5

'Wel,' quod she, 'raddest thou never how Paris of Troye and

Heleyne loved togider, and yet had they not entrecomuned of

speche? Also Acrisius shette Dane his doughter in a tour, for

suertee that no wight shulde of her have no maistry in my

service; and yet Jupiter by signes, without any speche, had 10

al his purpose ayenst her fathers wil. And many suche mo have

ben knitte in trouthe, and yet spake they never togider; for

that is a thing enclosed under secretnesse of privytè, why twey

persons entremellen hertes after a sight. The power in knowing,

of such thinges +to preven, shal nat al utterly be yeven to you 15

beestes; for many thinges, in suche precious maters, ben

reserved to jugement of devyne purveyaunce; for among lyving

people, by mannes consideracion, moun they nat be determined.

Wherfore I saye, al the envy, al the janglinge, that wel ny [al]

people upon my servauntes maken +ofte, is rather cause of esployte 20

than of any hindringe.'

'Why, than,' quod I, 'suffre ye such wrong; and moun, whan

ye list, lightly al such yvels abate? Me semeth, to you it is

a greet unworship.'

'O,' quod she, 'hold now thy pees. I have founden to many 25

that han ben to me unkynde, that trewly I wol suffre every wight

in that wyse to have disese; and who that continueth to the ende

wel and trewly, hem wol I helpen, and as for oon of myne in-to

blisse [don] to wende. As [in] marcial doing in Grece, who

was y-crowned? By god, nat the strongest; but he that rathest 30

com and lengest abood and continued in the journey, and spared

nat to traveyle as long as the play leste. But thilke person, that

profred him now to my service, [and] therin is a while, and anon

voideth and [is] redy to another; and so now oon he thinketh

and now another; and in-to water entreth and anon respireth: 35

such oon list me nat in-to perfit blisse of my service bringe.

A tree ofte set in dyvers places wol nat by kynde endure to bringe

forth frutes. Loke now, I pray thee, how myne olde servauntes

of tyme passed continued in her service, and folowe thou after

their steppes; and than might thou not fayle, in case thou worche 40

in this wyse.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'it is nothing lich, this world, to tyme

passed; eke this countrè hath oon maner, and another countrè

hath another. And so may nat a man alway putte to his eye the

salve that he heled with his hele. For this is sothe: betwixe 45

two thinges liche, ofte dyversitè is required.'

'Now,' quod she, 'that is sothe; dyversitè of nation, dyversitè of

lawe, as was maked by many resons; for that dyversitè cometh in

by the contrarious malice of wicked people, that han envyous hertes

ayenst other. But trewly, my lawe to my servauntes ever hath 50

ben in general, whiche may nat fayle. For right as mannes +lawe

that is ordained by many determinacions, may nat be knowe for

good or badde, til assay of the people han proved it and [founden]

to what ende it draweth; and than it sheweth the necessitè

therof, or els the impossibilitè: right so the lawe of my servauntes 55

so wel hath ben proved in general, that hitherto hath it not fayled.

Wiste thou not wel that al the lawe of kynde is my lawe, and

by god ordayned and stablisshed to dure by kynde resoun?

Wherfore al lawe by mannes witte purveyed ought to be underput

to lawe of kynde, whiche yet hath be commune to every kyndely 60

creature; that my statutes and my lawe that ben kyndely arn

general to al peoples. Olde doinges and by many turninges of

yeres used, and with the peoples maner proved, mowen nat so

lightly ben defased; but newe doinges, contrariauntes suche olde,

ofte causen diseses and breken many purposes. Yet saye I nat 65

therfore that ayen newe mischeef men shulde nat ordaynen

a newe remedye; but alwaye looke it contrary not the olde no

ferther than the malice streccheth. Than foloweth it, the olde

doinges in love han ben universal, as for most exployte[s] forth

used; wherfore I wol not yet that of my lawes nothing be adnulled. 70

But thanne to thy purpos: suche jangelers and lokers, and

wayters of games, if thee thinke in aught they mowe dere, yet

love wel alwaye, and sette hem at naught; and let thy port ben

lowe in every wightes presence, and redy in thyne herte to

maynteyne that thou hast begonne; and a litel thee fayne with 75

mekenesse in wordes; and thus with sleyght shalt thou surmount

and dequace the yvel in their hertes. And wysdom yet is to seme

flye otherwhyle, there a man wol fighte. Thus with suche thinges

the tonges of yvel shal ben stilled; els fully to graunte thy ful

meninge, for-sothe ever was and ever it shal be, that myn enemyes 80

ben aferde to truste to any fightinge. And therfore have thou no

cowardes herte in my service, no more than somtyme thou

haddest in the contrarye. For if thou drede suche jangleres, thy

viage to make, understand wel, that he that dredeth any rayn, to

sowe his cornes, he shal have than [bare] bernes. Also he that 85

is aferd of his clothes, let him daunce naked! Who nothing

undertaketh, and namely in my service, nothing acheveth. After

grete stormes the +weder is often mery and smothe. After

moche clatering, there is mokil rowning. Thus, after jangling

wordes, cometh "huissht! pees! and be stille!"' 90

'O good lady!' quod I than, 'see now how, seven yere passed

and more, have I graffed and +grobbed a vyne; and with al the

wayes that I coude I sought to a fed me of the grape; but frute

have I non founde. Also I have this seven yere served Laban, to

a wedded Rachel his doughter; but blere-eyed Lya is brought to 95

my bedde, which alway engendreth my tene, and is ful of children

in tribulacion and in care. And although the clippinges and

kissinges of Rachel shulde seme to me swete, yet is she so

barayne that gladnesse ne joye by no way wol springe; so that

I may wepe with Rachel. I may not ben counsayled with solace, 100

sithen issue of myn hertely desyre is fayled. Now than I pray that

to me [come] sone fredom and grace in this eight[eth] yere; this

eighteth mowe to me bothe be kinrest and masseday, after the

seven werkedays of travayle, to folowe the Christen lawe; and,

what ever ye do els, that thilke Margaryte be holden so, lady, in 105

your privy chambre, that she in this case to none other person be

committed.'

'Loke than,' quod she, 'thou persever in my service, in whiche

I have thee grounded; that thilke scorn in thyn enemyes mowe

this on thy person be not sothed: "lo! this man began to edefye, 110

but, for his foundement is bad, to the ende may he it not bringe."

For mekenesse in countenaunce, with a manly hert in dedes and

in longe continuaunce, is the conisance of my livery to al my

retinue delivered. What wenest thou, that me list avaunce suche

persons as loven the first sittinges at feestes, the highest stoles 115

in churches and in hal, loutinges of peoples in markettes and fayres;

unstedfaste to byde in one place any whyle togider; wening his

owne wit more excellent than other; scorning al maner devyse

but his own? Nay, nay, god wot, these shul nothing parten of

my blisse. Truly, my maner here-toforn hath ben [to] worship[pe] 120

with my blisse lyons in the felde and lambes in chambre;

egles at assaute and maydens in halle; foxes in counsayle, stil[le]

in their dedes; and their proteccioun is graunted, redy to ben

a bridge; and their baner is arered, like wolves in the felde.

Thus, by these wayes, shul men ben avaunced; ensample of 125

David, that from keping of shepe was drawen up in-to the order

of kingly governaunce; and Jupiter, from a bole, to ben Europes

fere; and Julius Cesar, from the lowest degrè in Rome, to be

mayster of al erthly princes; and Eneas from hel, to be king of

the countrè there Rome is now stonding. And so to thee I say; 130

thy grace, by bering ther-after, may sette thee in suche plight,

that no jangling may greve the leest tucke of thy hemmes; that

[suche] are their +jangles, is nought to counte at a cresse in thy

disavauntage.

CH. V. 1. one. 2. maner; _read_ maneres. purpose. 3. nowe. the. 4. proued.

6. howe. 9. suertie. 15. so; _read_ to. 17. lyueng.

19. _I supply_ al. 20. efte; _read_ ofte. 24. great. 25. holde nowe thy

peace. 27. disease. 29. one. _I supply_ don. _I supply_ in. 31. come.

abode. 32. lest. 33. nowe. _I supply_ and. 34. _I supply_ is. nowe one. 35.

nowe. 36. one. p_er_fyte. 38. nowe. the howe. 42. worlde. 43. one. 44.

alwaye put. 45. healed. 47. Nowe. 48. reasons. 51. lawes; _read_ lawe. 52.

determinati[=o]s. 53. _I supply_ founden.

58. reasoun. 59. purueyde. vnderputte. 61. arne. 65. diseases. breaken. 66.

mischefe. 68. stretcheth. 69. exployte forthe. 70. nothynge. 71. purpose.

72. the. 73. lette. porte. 75. the. 77. wysdome. 78. fyght. 79. graunt. 80.

meanynge. 84. vnderstande. rayne. 85. _I supply_ bare. 86. aferde. 88.

great. wether; _read_ weder. 90. huysshte. peace. styl. 91. se nowe howe.

92. groubed. 94. none. 101. Nowe. 102. _I supply_ come. 103. kynrest

(_sic_). 109. skorne. 110. this; _read_ thus? 120. toforne. 121. worship;

_read_ worshippe (_verb_). 122. styl. 123. protection.

130. nowe. the. 131. set the. 132. lest. 133. ianghes; _read_ jangles.

CHAPTER VI.

Ever,' quod she, 'hath the people in this worlde desyred

to have had greet name in worthinesse, and hated foule

to bere any [en]fame; and that is oon of the objeccions thou

alegest to be ayen thyne hertely desyre.'

'Ye, forsothe,' quod I; 'and that, so comenly, the people wol 5

lye, and bringe aboute suche enfame.'

'Now,' quod she, 'if men with lesinges putte on thee enfame,

wenest thy-selfe therby ben enpeyred? That wening is wrong;

see why; for as moche as they lyen, thy meryte encreseth, and

make[th] thee ben more worthy, to hem that knowen of the soth; 10

by what thing thou art apeyred, that in so mokil thou art encresed

of thy beloved frendes. And sothly, a wounde of thy frende [is] to

thee lasse harm, ye, sir, and better than a fals kissing in disceyvable

glosing of thyne enemy; above that than, to be wel with thy

frende maketh [voyd] suche enfame. _Ergo_, thou art encresed 15

and not apeyred.'

'Lady,' quod I, 'somtyme yet, if a man be in disese, th'estimacion

of the envyous people ne loketh nothing to desertes of men,

ne to the merytes of their doinges, but only to the aventure of

fortune; and therafter they yeven their sentence. And some 20

loken the voluntary wil in his herte, and therafter telleth his

jugement; not taking hede to reson ne to the qualitè of the

doing; as thus. If a man be riche and fulfild with worldly

welfulnesse, some commenden it, and sayn it is so lent by juste

cause; and he that hath adversitè, they sayn he is weked; and 25

hath deserved thilke anoy. The contrarye of these thinges some

men holden also; and sayn that to the riche prosperitè is purvayed

in-to his confusion; and upon this mater many autoritès

of many and greet-witted clerkes they alegen. And some men

sayn, though al good estimacion forsake folk that han adversitè, 30

yet is it meryte and encrees of his blisse; so that these purposes

am so wonderful in understanding, that trewly, for myn adversitè

now, I not how the sentence of the indifferent people wil jugen

my fame.'

'Therfore,' quod she, 'if any wight shulde yeve a trewe sentence 35

on suche maters, the cause of the disese maist thou see

wel. Understand ther-upon after what ende it draweth, that is to

sayne, good or badde; so ought it to have his fame +by goodnesse

or enfame by badnesse. For [of] every resonable person, and

namely of a wyse man, his wit ought not, without reson to-forn 40

herd, sodainly in a mater to juge. After the sawes of the wyse,

"thou shalt not juge ne deme toforn thou knowe."'

'Lady,' quod I, 'ye remembre wel, that in moste laude and

praysing of certayne seyntes in holy churche, is to rehersen their

conuersion from badde in-to good; and that is so rehersed, as 45

by a perpetual mirrour of remembraunce, in worshippinge of

tho sayntes, and good ensample to other misdoers in amendement.

How turned the Romayne Zedeoreys fro the Romaynes,

to be with Hanibal ayenst his kynde nacion; and afterwardes,

him seming the Romayns to be at the next degrè of confusion, 50

turned to his olde alyes; by whose witte after was Hanibal

discomfited. Wherfore, to enfourme you, lady, the maner-why

I mene, see now. In my youth I was drawe to ben assentaunt

and (in my mightes) helping to certain conjuracions and other

grete maters of ruling of citizins; and thilke thinges ben my 55

drawers in; and ex[c]itours to tho maters wern so paynted and

coloured that (at the prime face) me semed them noble and

glorious to al the people. I than, wening mikel meryte have

deserved in furthering and mayntenaunce of tho thinges, besyed

and laboured, with al my diligence, in werkinge of thilke maters 60

to the ende. And trewly, lady, to telle you the sothe, me rought

litel of any hate of the mighty senatours in thilke citè, ne of

comunes malice; for two skilles. Oon was, I had comfort to ben

in suche plyte, that bothe profit were to me and to my frendes.

Another was, for commen profit in cominaltee is not but pees and 65

tranquilitè, with just governaunce, proceden from thilke profit;

sithen, by counsayle of myne inwitte, me thought the firste painted

thinges malice and yvel meninge, withouten any good avayling to

any people, and of tyrannye purposed. And so, for pure sorowe,

and of my medlinge and badde infame that I was in ronne, tho 70

[the] teres [that] lasshed out of myne eyen were thus awaye

wasshe, than the under-hidde malice and the rancour of purposing

envye, forncast and imagined in distruccion of mokil people,

shewed so openly, that, had I ben blind, with myne hondes al the

circumstaunce I might wel have feled. 75

Now than tho persones that suche thinges have cast to redresse,

for wrathe of my first medlinge, shopen me to dwelle in this pynande

prison, til Lachases my threed no lenger wolde twyne. And

ever I was sought, if me liste to have grace of my lyfe and

frenesse of that prison, I shulde openly confesse how pees might 80

ben enduced to enden al the firste rancours. It was fully

supposed my knowing to be ful in tho maters. Than, lady,

I thought that every man that, by any waye of right, rightfully

don, may helpe any comune +wele to ben saved; whiche thing to

kepe above al thinges I am holde to mayntayne, and namely in 85

distroying of a wrong; al shulde I therthrough enpeche myn

owne fere, if he were gilty and to do misdeed assentaunt. And

mayster ne frend may nought avayle to the soule of him that

in falsnesse deyeth; and also that I nere desyred wrathe of the

people ne indignacion of the worthy, for nothinge that ever I 90

wrought or did, in any doing my-selfe els, but in the mayntenaunce

of these foresayd errours and in hydinge of the privitees therof.

And that al the peoples hertes, holdinge on the errours syde,

weren blinde and of elde so ferforth begyled, that debat and

stryf they maynteyned, and in distruccion on that other syde; 95

by whiche cause the pees, that moste in comunaltee shulde be

desyred, was in poynte to be broken and adnulled. Also the citee

of London, that is to me so dere and swete, in whiche I was forth

growen; (and more kyndely love have I to that place than to any

other in erthe, as every kyndely creature hath ful appetyte to that 100

place of his kyndly engendrure, and to wilne reste and pees

in that stede to abyde); thilke pees shulde thus there have ben

broken, and of al wyse it is commended and desyred. For knowe

thing it is, al men that desyren to comen to the perfit pees

everlasting must the pees by god commended bothe mayntayne and 105

kepe. This pees by angels voyce was confirmed, our god entringe

in this worlde. This, as for his Testament, he lefte to al his

frendes, whanne he retourned to the place from whence he cam;

this his apostel amonesteth to holden, without whiche man perfitly

may have non insight. Also this god, by his coming, made not 110

pees alone betwene hevenly and erthly bodyes, but also amonge

us on erthe so he pees confirmed, that in one heed of love oon

body we shulde perfourme. Also I remembre me wel how the

name of Athenes was rather after the god of pees than of batayle,

shewinge that pees moste is necessarie to comunaltees and citees. 115

I than, so styred by al these wayes toforn nempned, declared

certayne poyntes in this wyse. Firste, that thilke persones

that hadden me drawen to their purposes, and me not weting the

privy entent of their meninge, drawen also the feeble-witted

people, that have non insight of gubernatif prudence, to clamure 120

and to crye on maters that they styred; and under poyntes for

comune avauntage they enbolded the passif to take in the

actives doinge; and also styred innocentes of conning to crye

after thinges, whiche (quod they) may not stande but we ben

executours of tho maters, and auctoritè of execucion by comen 125

eleccion to us be delivered. And that muste entre by strength of

your mayntenaunce. For we out of suche degree put, oppression

of these olde hindrers shal agayn surmounten, and putten you in

such subjeccion, that in endelesse wo ye shul complayne.

The governementes (quod they) of your citè, lefte in the handes 130

of torcencious citezins, shal bringe in pestilence and distruccion

to you, good men; and therfore let us have the comune administracion

to abate suche yvels. Also (quod they) it is worthy

the good to commende, and the gilty desertes to chastice. There

ben citezens many, for-ferde of execucion that shal be doon; for 135

extorcions by hem committed ben evermore ayenst these purposes

and al other good mevinges. Never-the-latter, lady, trewly the

meninge under these wordes was, fully to have apeched the

mighty senatoures, whiche hadden hevy herte for the misgovernaunce

that they seen. And so, lady, whan it fel that free 140

eleccion [was mad], by greet clamour of moche people, [that] for

greet disese of misgovernaunce so fervently stoden in her eleccion

that they hem submitted to every maner +fate rather than have

suffred the maner and the rule of the hated governours;

notwithstandinge that in the contrary helden moche comune meyny, 145

that have no consideracion but only to voluntary lustes withouten

reson. But than thilke governour so forsaken, fayninge to-forn

his undoinge for misrule in his tyme, shoop to have letted thilke

eleccion, and have made a newe, him-selfe to have ben chosen;

and under that, mokil rore [to] have arered. These thinges, lady, 150

knowen among the princes, and made open to the people,

draweth in amendement, that every degree shal ben ordayned to

stande there-as he shulde; and that of errours coming herafter

men may lightly to-forn-hand purvaye remedye; in this wyse pees

and rest to be furthered and holde. Of the whiche thinges, lady, 155

thilke persones broughten in answere to-forn their moste soverayne

juge, not coarted by payninge dures, openly knowlegeden, and

asked therof grace; so that apertly it preveth my wordes ben

sothe, without forginge of lesinges.

But now it greveth me to remembre these dyvers sentences, in 160

janglinge of these shepy people; certes, me thinketh, they oughten

to maken joye that a sothe may be knowe. For my trouthe and

my conscience ben witnesse to me bothe, that this (knowinge

sothe) have I sayd, for no harme ne malice of tho persones, but

only for trouthe of my sacrament in my ligeaunce, by whiche 165

I was charged on my kinges behalfe. But see ye not now, lady,

how the felonous thoughtes of this people and covins of wicked

men conspyren ayen my sothfast trouth! See ye not every wight

that to these erroneous opinions were assentaunt, and helpes to

the noyse, and knewen al these thinges better than I my-selven, 170

apparaylen to fynden newe frendes, and clepen me fals, and

studyen how they mowen in her mouthes werse plyte nempne?

O god, what may this be, that thilke folk whiche that in tyme of

my mayntenaunce, and whan my might avayled to strecche to

the forsayd maters, tho me commended, and yave me name of 175

trouth, in so manyfolde maners that it was nyghe in every

wightes eere, there-as any of thilke people weren; and on the

other syde, thilke company somtyme passed, yevinge me name

of badde loos: now bothe tho peoples turned the good in-to

badde, and badde in-to good? Whiche thing is wonder, that 180

they knowing me saying but sothe, arn now tempted to reply her

olde praysinges; and knowen me wel in al doinges to ben trewe,

and sayn openly that I false have sayd many thinges! And they

aleged nothing me to ben false or untrewe, save thilke mater

knowleged by the parties hem-selfe; and god wot, other mater 185

is non. Ye also, lady, knowe these thinges for trewe; I avaunte

not in praysing of my-selfe; therby shulde I lese the precious

secrè of my conscience. But ye see wel that false opinion of the

people for my trouthe, in telling out of false conspyred maters;

and after the jugement of these clerkes, I shulde not hyde the 190

sothe of no maner person, mayster ne other. Wherfore I wolde

not drede, were it put in the consideracion of trewe and of wyse.

And for comers hereafter shullen fully, out of denwere, al the

sothe knowe of these thinges in acte, but as they wern, I have

put it in scripture, in perpetuel remembraunce of true meninge. 195

For trewly, lady, me semeth that I ought to bere the name of

trouthe, that for the love of rightwysnesse have thus me +submitted.

But now than the false fame, which that (clerkes sayn)

flyeth as faste as doth the fame of trouthe, shal so wyde sprede

til it be brought to the jewel that I of mene; and so shal I ben 200

hindred, withouten any mesure of trouthe.'

CH. VI. 2. great. beare. 3. _read_ enfame; _see l. 6_. one. obiections. 7.

Nowe. leasynges put on the. 8. wronge. 9. se. encreaseth. 10. the. 11. arte

encreased. 12. _I supply_ is. 13. the. harme. false. 15. _I supply_ voyd.

arte. 17. disease. 22. reason. 23. fulfylde. 24. sayne. lente. 25. sayne.

weaked; _read_ wikked? 26. anoye.

27. sayne. 29. great. 30. forsaken; _read_ forsake. 31. encrease. 32. arne.

33. nowe. howe. 36. disease. se. 37. vnderstande. 38. fame or by goodnesse

enfame; _read_ fame by goodnesse or enfame. 39. _Supply_ of. reasonable.

40. wytte. reason to-forne. 41. herde. 42. toforne. 45. conuercion. 48.

Howe. zedeoreys _or_ [gh]edeoreys. 53. meane se nowe. 55. great. 56.

exitours. werne. 61. tel.

63. One. comforte. 64. profyte. 65. profyte. comynaltie. peace. 66.

profyte. 68. meanynge. 71. _I supply_ the _and_ that. 72. rancoure. 73.

fornecaste. distruction. 74. blynde. 76. Nowe. caste. 77. dwel. 78. threde.

80. howe peace. 81. endused. 84. done. maye. helpe (_repeated after_

comen); _read_ wele. thynge. 86. distroyeng. 87. misdede. 88. frende maye.

94. -forthe. debate. 95. stryfe. distruction. 96. peace. comunaltie. 97.

cytie. 98. forthe.

101-6. peace (_five times_). 104. thynge. perfyte. 107. left. 108. came.

109. perfytely. 110. none. 111-2. peace (_twice_). 112. one (_twice_). 113.

howe. 114-5. peace (_twice_). 115. comunalties and cytes. 116. toforne.

119. meanynge. feoble. 120. none. gubernatyfe. 122. passyfe. 126. election.

128. agayne. 129. subiection. 131. distruction. 135. doone.

138. meanynge. 139. heauy. 141. election. _Supply_ was mad. great

(_twice_). _Supply_ that. 142. disease. election. 143. face; _read_ fate.

146. onely. 147. reason. to-forne. 148. shope. 149. electyon. 151. amonge.

154. to forne hande. peace. 156. to forne. 158. apertely. 159. leasynges.

160. nowe. 162. maye. 164. sayde. 165. onely. leigeaunce. 166. se. nowe.

168. Se. 171. cleapen. false.

172. howe. 173. maye. folke. 174. stretch. 179. Nowe. 181. knowyuge

(_sic_). sayng. arne nowe. 183. sayne. 184. nothynge. 185. wote. 186. none.

188. se. 194. werne. 195. meanynge. 196. beare. 197. submytten (!). 198.

nowe. sayne. 199. dothe. 200. meane. 201. measure.

CHAPTER VII.

Than gan Love sadly me beholde, and sayd in a changed

voyce, lower than she had spoken in any tyme: 'Fayn

wolde I,' quod she, 'that thou were holpen; but hast thou sayd

any-thing whiche thou might not proven?'

'Pardè,' quod I, 'the persones, every thing as I have sayd, han 5

knowleged hem-selfe.'

'Ye,' quod she, 'but what if they hadden nayed? How

woldest thou have maynteyned it?'

'Sothely,' quod I, 'it is wel wist, bothe amonges the greetest

and other of the realme, that I profered my body so largely in-to 10

provinge of tho thinges, that Mars shulde have juged the ende;

but, for sothnesse of my wordes, they durste not to thilke juge

truste.'

'Now, certes,' quod she, 'above al fames in this worlde, the

name of marcial doinges most plesen to ladyes of my lore; but 15

sithen thou were redy, and thyne adversaryes in thy presence

refused thilke doing; thy fame ought to be so born as if in dede

it had take to the ende. And therfore every wight that any

droppe of reson hath, and hereth of thee infame for these thinges,

hath this answere to saye: "trewly thou saydest; for thyne 20

adversaryes thy wordes affirmed." And if thou haddest lyed, yet

are they discomfited, the prise leved on thy syde; so that fame

shal holde down infame; he shal bringe [it in] upon none

halfe. What greveth thee thyne enemye[s] to sayn their owne

shame, as thus: "we arn discomfited, and yet our quarel is 25

trewe?" Shal not the loos of thy frendes ayenward dequace thilke

enfame, and saye they graunted a sothe without a stroke or fighting?

Many men in batayle ben discomfited and overcome in

a rightful quarel, that is goddes privy jugement in heven; but

yet, although the party be yolden, he may with wordes saye his 30

quarel is trewe, and to yelde him, in the contrarye, for drede of

dethe he is compelled; and he that graunteth and no stroke hath

feled, he may not crepe away in this wyse by none excusacion.

Indifferent folk wil say: "ye, who is trewe, who is fals, him-selfe

knowlegeth tho thinges." Thus in every syde fame sheweth to 35

thee good and no badde.'

'But yet,' quod I, 'some wil say, I ne shulde, for no dethe,

have discovered my maistresse; and so by unkyndnesse they

wol knette infame, to pursue me aboute. Thus enemyes of wil,

in manyfolde maner, wol seche privy serpentynes queintyses, to 40

quenche and distroye, by venim of many besinesses, the light of

tr[o]uthe; to make hertes to murmure ayenst my persone, to have

me in hayne withouten any cause.'

'Now,' quod she, 'here me a fewe wordes, and thou shalt fully

ben answered, I trowe. Me thinketh (quod she) right now, by 45

thy wordes, that sacrament of swering, that is to say, charging by

othe, was oon of the causes to make thee discover the malicious

imaginacions tofore nempned. Every ooth, by knittinge of copulation,

muste have these lawes, that is, trewe jugement and rightwysenesse;

in whiche thinge if any of these lacke, the ooth is 50

y-tourned in-to the name of perjury. Than to make a trewe

serment, most nedes these thinges folowe. For ofte tymes, a man

to saye sothe, but jugement and justice folowe, he is forsworn;

ensample of Herodes, for holdinge of his serment was [he]

dampned. 55

Also, to saye tr[o]uthe rightfulliche (but in jugement) otherwhile

is forboden, by that al sothes be nat to sayne. Therfore in

jugement, in tr[o]uthe, and rightwisenesse, is every creature

bounden, up payne of perjury, ful knowing to make, tho[ugh] it

were of his owne persone, for drede of sinne; after that worde, 60

"better is it to dey than live false." And, al wolde perverted people

fals report make in unkyndnesse, in that entent thy [en]fame to

reyse, whan light of tr[o]uthe in these maters is forth sprongen

and openly publisshed among commens, than shal nat suche

derke enfame dare appere, for pure shame of his falsnesse. As some 65

men ther ben that their owne enfame can none otherwyse voide

or els excuse, but +by hindringe of other mennes fame; which

that by non other cause clepen other men false, but for [that]

with their owne falsnesse mowen they nat ben avaunsed; or els

by false sklaund[r]inge wordes other men shenden, their owne 70

trewe sklaunder to make seme the lasse. For if such men wolden

their eyen of their conscience revolven, [they] shulden seen the

same sentence they legen on other springe out of their sydes, with

so many braunches, it were impossible to nombre. To whiche

therefore may it be sayd in that thinge, "this man thou demest, 75

therein thy-selfe thou condempnest."

But (quod she) understand nat by these wordes, that thou

wene me saye thee to be worthy sclaunder, for any mater tofore

written; truely I wolde witnesse the contrary; but I saye that

the bemes of sclaundring wordes may not be don awaye til the 80

daye of dome. For how shulde it nat yet, amonges so greet

plentee of people, ben many shrewes, sithen whan no mo but

eight persons in Noes shippe were closed, yet oon was a shrewe

and skorned his father? These thinges (quod she) I trowe, shewen

that fals fame is nat to drede, ne of wyse persons to accepte, and 85

namely nat of thy Margarite, whose wysdom here-after I thinke to

declare; wherfore I wot wel suche thing shal nat her asterte;

than of unkyndnesse thyn ooth hath thee excused at the fulle.

But now, if thou woldest nat greve, me list a fewe thinges to

shewe.' 90

'Say on,' quod I, 'what ye wol; I trowe ye mene but trouthe

and my profit in tyme cominge.'

'Trewly,' quod she, 'that is sothe, so thou con wel kepe these

wordes, and in the in[ne]rest secrè chambre of thyne herte so

faste hem close that they never flitte; than shalt thou fynde hem 95

avayling. Loke now what people hast thou served; whiche of

hem al in tyme of thyne exile ever thee refresshed, by the valewe

of the leste coyned plate that walketh in money? Who was sory,

or made any rewth for thy disese? If they hadden getten their

purpose, of thy misaventure sette they nat an hawe. Lo, whan 100

thou were emprisonned, how faste they hyed in helpe of thy

deliveraunce! I wene of thy dethe they yeve but lyte. They

loked after no-thing but after their owne lustes. And if thou liste

say the sothe, al that meyny that in this +brige thee broughten,

lokeden rather after thyne helpes than thee to have releved. 105

Owen nat yet some of hem money for his commens? Paydest

nat thou for some of her dispences, til they were tourned out of

Selande? Who yave thee ever ought for any rydinge thou madest?

Yet, pardè, some of hem token money for thy chambre, and

putte tho pens in his purse, unwetinge of the renter. 110

Lo for which a company thou medlest, that neither thee ne

them-selfe mighten helpe of unkyndnesse; now they bere the

name that thou supposest of hem for to have. What might thou

more have don than thou diddest, but-if thou woldest in a fals

quarel have been a stinkinge martyr? I wene thou fleddest, as 115

longe as thou might, their privitè to counsayle; which thing thou

hele[de]st lenger than thou shuldest. And thilke that ought thee

money no penny wolde paye; they wende thy returne hadde ben

an impossible. How might thou better have hem proved, but thus

in thy nedy diseses? Now hast thou ensaumple for whom thou 120

shalt meddle; trewly, this lore is worth many goodes.'

CH. VII. 2. Fayne. 3. haste. 4. -thynge. 7. Yea. Howe. 9. wyste. amongest.

greatest. 14. Nowe. 15. moste pleasen. 17. borne. 19. reason. the. 22.

leaued. 23. _Supply_ it in. 24. the. enemye (_sic_). sayne. 25. arne. 30.

partie. 33. maye.

34. folke. false. 36. the. 44. Nowe. shalte. 45. answerde. nowe. 46.

swearyng. 47. one. the. 48. othe. copulation. 50. othe. 53. forsworne. 54.

_Supply_ he. 61. false. 62. reporte. 63. forthe. 67. be; _for_ by. 68.

cleapen. _Supply_ that. 70. sklaundynge. shendyn.

72. _I supply_ they. sene. 73. legen [_for_ aleggen]. 75. maye. 77.

vndersta_n_de. 78. the. 80. beames. done. 81. howe. great. 82. plentie. 83.

one. 85. false. 86. wysedom. 87. wotte. thynge. 88. thyne othe. the. 89.

nowe. 91. meane. 92. profyte. 94. inrest. 95. shalte. 96. nowe. haste. 97.

the. 98. sorye. 99. disease. 101. howe. 103. -thynge. 104. brigge; _read_

brige. 104, 105. the.

108. the. 109. pardye. 111. the. 112. now. beare. 114. done. false. 117.

helest; _read_ heledest. the. 119. Howe. 120. diseases. Nowe haste. 121.

shalte. worthe.

CHAPTER VIII.

+Eft gan Love to +steren me [with] these wordes: 'thinke

on my speche; for trewly here-after it wol do thee lykinge;

and how-so-ever thou see Fortune shape her wheele to tourne,

this meditacion [shal] by no waye revolve. For certes, Fortune

sheweth her fayrest, whan she thinketh to begyle. And as me 5

thought, here-toforn thou saydest, thy loos in love, for thy

rightwysenesse ought to be raysed, shulde be a-lowed in tyme cominge.

Thou might in love so thee have, that loos and fame shul so ben

raysed, that to thy frendes comfort, and sorowe to thyne enemys,

endlesse shul endure. 10

But if thou were the oon sheep, amonges the hundred, were lost

in deserte and out of the way hadde erred, and now to the flocke

art restoored, the shepherd hath in thee no joye and thou ayen

to the forrest tourne. But that right as the sorowe and anguisshe

was greet in tyme of thyne out-waye goinge, right so 15

joye and gladnesse shal be doubled to sene thee converted; and

nat as Lothes wyf ayen-lokinge, but [in] hool counsayle with the

shepe folowinge, and with them grasse and herbes gadre. Never-the-later

(quod she) I saye nat these thinges for no wantrust that

I have in supposinge of thee otherwyse than I shulde. For 20

trewly, I wot wel that now thou art set in suche a purpose, out of

whiche thee liste nat to parte. But I saye it for many men there

been, that to knowinge of other mennes doinges setten al their

cure, and lightly desyren the badde to clatter rather than the

good, and have no wil their owne maner to amende. They also 25

hate of olde rancours lightly haven; and there that suche thing

abydeth, sodaynly in their mouthes procedeth the habundaunce

of the herte, and wordes as stones out-throwe. Wherfore my

counsayl is ever-more openly and apertly, in what place thou sitte,

counterplete th'errours and meninges in as fer as thou hem 30

wistest false, and leve for no wight to make hem be knowe in

every bodyes ere; and be alway pacient and use Jacobes wordes,

what-so-ever men of thee clappen: "I shal sustayne my ladyes

wrathe which I have deserved, so longe as my Margarite hath

rightwysed my cause." And certes (quod she) I witnesse my-selfe, 35

if thou, thus converted, sorowest in good meninge in thyne herte,

[and] wolt from al vanitè parfitly departe, in consolacioun of al

good plesaunce of that Margaryte, whiche that thou desyrest after

wil of thyn herte, in a maner of a +moders pitè, [she] shul fully

accepte thee in-to grace. For right as thou rentest clothes in 40

open sighte, so openly to sowe hem at his worshippe withouten

reprofe [is] commended. Also, right as thou were ensample of

moche-folde errour, right so thou must be ensample of manyfolde

correccioun; so good savour to forgoing +of errour causeth diligent

love, with many playted praisinges to folowe; and than shal al 45

the firste errours make the folowinge worshippes to seme hugely

encresed. Blacke and white, set togider, every for other more

semeth; and so doth every thinges contrary in kynde. But

infame, that goth alwaye tofore, and praysinge worship by any

cause folowinge after, maketh to ryse the ilke honour in double 50

of welth; and that quencheth the spotte of the first enfame. Why

wenest, I saye, these thinges in hindringe of thy name? Nay,

nay, god wot, but for pure encresing worship, thy rightwysenesse to

commende, and thy trouthe to seme the more. Wost nat wel

thy-selfe, that thou in fourme of making +passest nat Adam that eet 55

of the apple? Thou +passest nat the stedfastnesse of Noe, that

eetinge of the grape becom dronke. Thou passest nat the

chastitè of Lothe, that lay by his doughter; eke the nobley of

Abraham, whom god reproved by his pryde; also Davides

mekenesse, whiche for a woman made Urye be slawe. What? 60

also Hector of Troye, in whom no defaute might be founde, yet

is he reproved that he ne hadde with manhode nat suffred the

warre begonne, ne Paris to have went in-to Grece, by whom gan

al the sorowe. For trewly, him lacketh no venim of privè

consenting, whiche that openly leveth a wrong to withsaye. 65

Lo eke an olde proverbe amonges many other: "He that is

stille semeth as he graunted."

Now by these ensamples thou might fully understonde, that

these thinges ben writte to your lerning, and in rightwysenesse of

tho persones, as thus: To every wight his defaute committed 70

made goodnesse afterwardes don be the more in reverence and in

open shewing; for ensample, is it nat songe in holy churche,

"Lo, how necessary was Adams synne!" David the king gat

Salomon the king of her that was Uryes wyf. Truly, for reprofe

is non of these thinges writte. Right so, tho I reherce thy 75

before-dede, I repreve thee never the more; ne for no villany of

thee are they rehersed, but for worshippe, so thou continewe wel

here-after: and for profit of thy-selfe I rede thou on hem thinke.'

Than sayde I right thus: 'Lady of unitè and accorde, envy

and wrathe lurken there thou comest in place; ye weten wel 80

your-selve, and so don many other, that whyle I administred the

office of commen doinge, as in rulinge of the stablisshmentes

amonges the people, I defouled never my conscience for no

maner dede; but ever, by witte and by counsayle of the wysest,

the maters weren drawen to their right endes. And thus trewly 85

for you, lady, I have desyred suche cure; and certes, in your

service was I nat ydel, as fer as suche doinge of my cure

streccheth.'

'That is a thing,' quod she, 'that may drawe many hertes of

noble, and voice of commune in-to glory; and fame is nat but 90

wrecched and fickle. Alas! that mankynde coveyteth in so leude

a wyse to be rewarded of any good dede, sithe glorie of fame, in

this worlde, is nat but hindringe of glorie in tyme comminge!

And certes (quod she) yet at the hardest suche fame, in-to heven,

is nat the erthe but a centre to the cercle of heven? A pricke is 95

wonder litel in respect of al the cercle; and yet, in al this pricke,

may no name be born, in maner of peersing, for many obstacles,

as waters, and wildernesse, and straunge langages. And nat only

names of men ben stilled and holden out of knowleginge by these

obstacles, but also citees and realmes of prosperitè ben letted to 100

be knowe, and their reson hindred; so that they mowe nat ben

parfitly in mennes propre understandinge. How shulde than the

name of a singuler Londenoys passe the glorious name of London,

whiche by many it is commended, and by many it is lacked, and

in many mo places in erthe nat knowen than knowen? For in 105

many countrees litel is London in knowing or in spech; and yet

among oon maner of people may nat such fame in goodnes

come; for as many as praysen, commenly as many lacken. Fy

than on such maner fame! Slepe, and suffre him that knoweth

previtè of hertes to dele suche fame in thilke place there nothing 110

ayenst a sothe shal neither speke ne dare apere, by attourney

ne by other maner. How many greet-named, and many greet

in worthinesse losed, han be tofore this tyme, that now out

of memorie are slidden, and clenely forgeten, for defaute of

wrytinges! And yet scriptures for greet elde so ben defased, that 115

no perpetualtè may in hem ben juged. But if thou wolt make

comparisoun to ever, what joye mayst thou have in erthly name?

It is a fayr lykenesse, a pees or oon grayn of whete, to a thousand

shippes ful of corne charged! What nombre is betwene the

oon and th'other? And yet mowe bothe they be nombred, and 120

ende in rekening have. But trewly, al that may be nombred is

nothing to recken, as to thilke that may nat be nombred. For

+of the thinges ended is mad comparison; as, oon litel, another

greet; but in thinges to have an ende, and another no ende,

suche comparisoun may nat be founden. Wherfore in heven to 125

ben losed with god hath non ende, but endlesse endureth; and

thou canst nothing don aright, but thou desyre the rumour therof

be heled and in every wightes ere; and that dureth but a pricke

in respecte of the other. And so thou sekest reward of folkes

smale wordes, and of vayne praysinges. Trewly, therin thou 130

lesest the guerdon of vertue; and lesest the grettest valour of

conscience, and uphap thy renomè everlasting. Therfore boldely

renomè of fame of the erthe shulde be hated, and fame after deth

shulde be desyred of werkes of vertue. [Trewly, vertue] asketh

guerdoning, and the soule causeth al vertue. Than the soule, 135

delivered out of prison of erthe, is most worthy suche guerdon

among to have in the everlastinge fame; and nat the body, that

causeth al mannes yvels.

CH. VIII. 1. Ofte; _read_ Eft. sterne; _read_ steren. _I supply_ with. 2.

the. 3. howe. se. 4. meditation. _I supply_ shal. 6. toforne. 8. the. 9.

co_m_forte. 11. one shepe. 12. loste. nowe. 13. arte. shepeherd. the. 15.

great. 16. the.

17. wyfe. _I supply_ in. hoole. 20. the. 21. wotte. nowe. arte sette. 22.

the. 23. bene. 26. thynge. 28. stones _repeated in_ Th. 29. counsayle.

apertely. 30. therrours. meanynges. ferre. 31. wystyst. leaue. 32. eare.

33. menne. the. 36. meanynge. 37. _I supply_ and. wolte. parfytely. 37.

consolatyoun. 38. pleasaunce. 39. hert. mothers; _read_ moders. _I supply_

she. 40. the. 42. _I supply_ is. 44. correctioun. al; _read_ of. _After_

errour _I omit_ distroyeng (_gloss upon_ forgoing). 47. encreased. sette.

48. dothe. 49. gothe. worshippe.

52. wenyste. Naye nay god wotte. 53. encreasyng. 55-7. passeth (_twice_);

passyst (_third time_). ete. 57. eatynge. become. 61. whome. 63. begon.

ganne. 65. leaueth. wronge. withsay. 68. Nowe. 71. done. 72. song. 73.

howe. gate. 74. wyfe. 75. none. 76-7. the (_twice_). 78. profyte. 81. done.

87. ferre. 88. stretcheth.

91. wretched. 96. respecte. 97. borne. 98. onely. 101. reason. 102.

parfitely. Howe. 107. one. 108. Fye. 110. nothynge. 112. Howe. great

(_twice_). 113. nowe. 115. great. 116. maye. wolte. 118. fayre. one grayne

of wheate. thousande. 120. one. thother. 121-2. maye. 123. ofte; _read_ of

the. made. one. 124. great.

126. none. 127. canste nothynge done. rumoure. 128. healed; _read_ deled?

eare. 129. rewarde. 131. valoure. consyence. 134. _Supply_ Trewly, vertue.

136. prisone. guerdone.

CHAPTER IX.

Of twey thinges art thou answered, as me thinketh (quod

Love); and if any thing be in doute in thy soule, shewe

it forth, thyn ignoraunce to clere, and leve it for no shame.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'there is no body in this worlde, that aught

coude saye by reson ayenst any of your skilles, as I leve; and by 5

my witte now fele I wel, that yvel-spekers or berers of enfame

may litel greve or lette my purpos, but rather by suche thinge my

quarel to be forthered.'

'Ye,' quod she,'and it is proved also, that the ilke jewel in

my kepinge shal nat there-thorow be stered, of the lest moment 10

that might be imagined.'

'That is soth,' quod I.

'Wel,' quod she, 'than +leveth there, to declare that thy

insuffisance is no maner letting, as thus: for that she is so worthy,

thou shuldest not clymbe so highe; for thy moebles and thyn 15

estate arn voyded, thou thinkest [thee] fallen in suche miserie,

that gladnesse of thy pursute wol nat on thee discende.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'that is sothe; right suche thought is in myn

herte; for commenly it is spoken, and for an olde proverbe it is

leged: "He that heweth to hye, with chippes he may lese 20

his sight." Wherfore I have ben about, in al that ever I might,

to studye wayes of remedye by one syde or by another.'

'Now,' quod she, 'god forbede +that thou seke any other

doinges but suche as I have lerned thee in our restinge-whyles,

and suche herbes as ben planted in oure gardins. Thou shalt 25

wel understande that above man is but oon god alone.'

'How,' quod I, 'han men to-forn this tyme trusted in writtes

and chauntements, and in helpes of spirites that dwellen in the

ayre, and therby they han getten their desyres, where-as first, for

al his manly power, he daunced behynde?' 30

'O,' quod she, 'fy on suche maters! For trewly, that is

sacrilege; and that shal have no sort with any of my servauntes;

in myne eyen shal suche thing nat be loked after. How often is

it commaunded by these passed wyse, that "to one god shal men

serve, and not to goddes?" And who that liste to have myne 35

helpes, shal aske none helpe of foule spirites. Alas! is nat man

maked semblable to god? Wost thou nat wel, that al vertue of

lyvelich werkinge, by goddes purveyaunce, is underput to resonable

creature in erthe? Is nat every thing, a this halfe god, mad

buxom to mannes contemplation, understandinge in heven and 40

in erthe and in helle? Hath not man beinge with stones, soule of

wexing with trees and herbes? Hath he nat soule of felinge, with

beestes, fisshes, and foules? And he hath soule of reson and

understanding with aungels; so that in him is knit al maner

of lyvinges by a resonable proporcioun. Also man is mad of 45

al the foure elementes. Al universitee is rekened in him alone;

he hath, under god, principalitè above al thinges. Now is his

soule here, now a thousand myle hence; now fer, now nygh;

now hye, now lowe; as fer in a moment as in mountenaunce of

ten winter; and al this is in mannes governaunce and disposicion. 50

Than sheweth it that men ben liche unto goddes, and children of

moost heyght. But now, sithen al thinges [arn] underput to the

wil of resonable creatures, god forbede any man to winne that

lordship, and aske helpe of any-thing lower than him-selfe; and than,

namely, of foule thinges innominable. Now than, why shuldest 55

thou wene to love to highe, sithen nothing is thee above but god

alone? Trewly, I wot wel that thilke jewel is in a maner even in

lyne of degree there thou art thy-selfe, and nought above, save

thus: aungel upon angel, man upon man, and devil upon devil

han a maner of soveraigntee; and that shal cese at the daye 60

of dome. And so I say: though thou be put to serve the

ilke jewel duringe thy lyfe, yet is that no servage of

underputtinge, but a maner of travayling plesaunce, to conquere and

gette that thou hast not. I sette now the hardest: in my service

now thou deydest, for sorowe of wantinge in thy desyres; trewly, 65

al hevenly bodyes with one voyce shul come and make melody in

thy cominge, and saye--"Welcome, our fere, and worthy to entre

into Jupiters joye! For thou with might hast overcome deth;

thou woldest never flitte out of thy service; and we al shul

now praye to the goddes, rowe by rowe, to make thilk Margarite, 70

that no routh had in this persone, but unkyndely without comfort

let thee deye, shal besette her-selfe in suche wyse, that in erthe,

for parte of vengeaunce, shal she no joye have in loves service;

and whan she is deed, than shal her soule ben brought up in-to

thy presence; and whider thou wilt chese, thilke soule shal ben 75

committed." Or els, after thy deth, anon al the foresayd hevenly

bodyes, by one accorde, shal +benimen from thilke perle al the

vertues that firste her were taken; for she hath hem forfeyted

by that on thee, my servaunt, in thy lyve, she wolde not suffre

to worche al vertues, withdrawen by might of the hygh bodyes. 80

Why than shuldest thou wene so any more? And if thee liste

to loke upon the lawe of kynde, and with order whiche to me

was ordayned, sothely, non age, non overtourninge tyme but

+hiderto had no tyme ne power to chaunge the wedding, ne

the knotte to unbynde of two hertes [that] thorow oon assent, in 85

my presence, +togider accorden to enduren til deth hem departe.

What? trowest thou, every ideot wot the meninge and the privy

entent of these thinges? They wene, forsothe, that suche accord

may not be, but the rose of maydenhede be plucked. Do way,

do way; they knowe nothing of this. For consent of two hertes 90

alone maketh the fasteninge of the knotte; neither lawe of kynde

ne mannes lawe determineth neither the age ne the qualitè of

persones, but only accord bitwene thilke twaye. And trewly,

after tyme that suche accord, by their consent in hert, is enseled,

and put in my tresorye amonges my privy thinges, than ginneth 95

the name of spousayle; and although they breken forward bothe,

yet suche mater enseled is kept in remembrance for ever. And

see now that spouses have the name anon after accord, though

the rose be not take. The aungel bad Joseph take Marye his

spouse, and to Egypte wende. Lo! she was cleped "spouse," 100

and yet, toforn ne after, neither of hem bothe mente no flesshly

lust knowe. Wherfore the wordes of trouthe acorden that my

servauntes shulden forsake bothe +fader and moder, and be adherand

to his spouse; and they two in unitè of one flesshe

shulden accorde. And this wyse, two that wern firste in a litel 105

maner discordaunt, hygher that oon and lower that other, ben

mad evenliche in gree to stonde. But now to enfourme thee

that ye ben liche to goddes, these clerkes sayn, and in determinacion

shewen, that "three thinges haven [by] the names

of goddes ben cleped; that is to sayn: man, divel, and images"; 110

but yet is there but oon god, of whom al goodnesse, al grace, and

al vertue cometh; and he +is loving and trewe, and everlasting,

and pryme cause of al being thinges. But men ben goddes

lovinge and trewe, but not everlasting; and that is by adopcioun

of the everlastinge god. Divels ben goddes, stirringe by 115

a maner of lyving; but neither ben they trewe ne everlastinge;

and their name of godliheed th[e]y han by usurpacion, as the

prophete sayth: "Al goddes of gentyles (that is to say, paynims)

are divels." But images ben goddes by nuncupacion; and they

ben neither livinge ne trewe, ne everlastinge. After these wordes 120

they clepen "goddes" images wrought with mennes handes.

But now [art thou a] resonable creature, that by adopcion alone

art to the grete god everlastinge, and therby thou art "god"

cleped: let thy +faders maners so entre thy wittes that thou might

folowe, in-as-moche as longeth to thee, thy +faders worship, so 125

that in nothinge thy kynde from his wil declyne, ne from his

nobley perverte. In this wyse if thou werche, thou art above

al other thinges save god alone; and so say no more "thyn herte

to serve in to hye a place."

CH. IX. 1. arte. 2. thynge. 3. thyne. leaue. 5. reason. 6. nowe. bearers.

7. purpose. 9. Yea. 10. -thorowe. steered. 13. leneth; _read_ leueth. 15.

thyne. 16. arne. _I supply_ thee. 17. the. 18. myne hert.

20. maye. 23. Nowe. are; _read_ that. 24. the. 25. shalte. 26. one. 27.

Howe. to forne. 31. fye. 38. vnderputte. 39. thynge. made. 40. buxome. 41.

manne. 43. reason. 44. knytte. 45. lyuenges. reasonable. made. 47. Nowe.

48. nowe. nowe ferre nowe. thousande. 49. nowe (_twice_). ferre. momente.

50. tenne. disposytion. 52. nowe. _I supply_ arn. vnderputte. 53.

reasonable. 54. lordshippe. thynge.

56. nothynge. the. 57. wote. euyn. 58. arte. 59. manne (_twice_). 60.

soueraygntie. cease. 61. thoughe putte. 64. haste. 64-5. nowe. 68. haste.

dethe. 70. nowe pray. 71. _For_ in _read_ on? comforte. 72. lette the. 75.

wylte. 76. dethe anone. 77. beno_m_men; _read_ benimen. 79. the. 81. the.

83. none (_twice_). 84. hytherto. 85. _Supply_ that. thorowe one. 86.

togyther. dethe. 87. ydeot wotte. 88. accorde. 89. waye (_twice_). 90.

consente.

93. onely. 93-4. accorde. 94. ensealed. 96. breaken forwarde. 97. ensealed.

kepte. 98. se nowe. accorde. 99. bade. 101. toforne. 102. luste. 103.

father and mother; _rather_, fader and moder. adherande. 105. werne. 106.

one. 107. made. nowe. the. 108. sayne. 109. thre. _I supply_ by. 110.

cleaped. 111. one. 112. his; _read_ is. 116. lyueng. 117. thy; _read_ they.

118. saythe. 121. cleapen. 122. nowe. _I supply_ art thou a. reasonable.

123. arte (_twice_). great. 124. lette. 124-5. fathers; _read_ faders. 125.

the. worshyppe.

127. arte.

CHAPTER X.

Fully have I now declared thyn estate to be good, so thou

folow therafter, and that the +objeccion first +by thee

aleged, in worthinesse of thy Margaryte, shal not thee lette, as

it shal forther thee, and encrese thee. It is now to declare, the

last objeccion in nothing may greve.' 5

'Yes, certes,' quod I, 'bothe greve and lette muste it nedes;

the contrarye may not ben proved; and see now why. Whyle

I was glorious in worldly welfulnesse, and had suche goodes in

welth as maken men riche, tho was I drawe in-to companyes

that loos, prise, and name yeven. Tho louteden blasours; tho 10

curreyden glosours; tho welcomeden flatterers; tho worshipped

thilke that now deynen nat to loke. Every wight, in such erthly

wele habundant, is holde noble, precious, benigne, and wyse to

do what he shal, in any degree that men him sette; al-be-it that

the sothe be in the contrarye of al tho thinges. But he that can 15

never so wel him behave, and hath vertue habundaunt in manyfolde

maners, and be nat welthed with suche erthly goodes, is holde

for a foole, and sayd, his wit is but sotted. Lo! how fals for

aver is holde trewe! Lo! how trewe is cleped fals for wanting

of goodes! Also, lady, dignitees of office maken men mikel 20

comended, as thus: "he is so good, were he out, his pere shulde

men not fynde." Trewly, I trowe of some suche that are so

praysed, were they out ones, another shulde make him so be

knowe, he shulde of no wyse no more ben loked after: but only

fooles, wel I wot, desyren suche newe thinges. Wherfore I wonder 25

that thilke governour, out of whom alone the causes proceden

that governen al thinges, whiche that hath ordeyned this world

in workes of the kyndely bodyes so be governed, not with

unstedfast or happyous thing, but with rules of reson, whiche

shewen the course of certayne thinges: why suffreth he suche 30

slydinge chaunges, that misturnen suche noble thinges as ben we

men, that arn a fayr parcel of the erthe, and holden the upperest

degree, under god, of benigne thinges, as ye sayden right now

your-selfe; shulde never man have ben set in so worthy a place

but-if his degrè were ordayned noble. Alas! thou that knittest 35

the purveyaunce of al thinges, why lokest thou not to amenden

these defautes? I see shrewes that han wicked maners sitten in

chayres of domes, lambes to punisshen, there wolves shulden ben

punisshed. Lo! vertue, shynende naturelly, for povertee lurketh,

and is hid under cloude; but the moone false, forsworn (as 40

I knowe my-selfe) for aver and yeftes, hath usurped to shyne by

day-light, with peynture of other mens praysinges; and trewly,

thilke forged light fouly shulde fade, were the trouth away of

colours feyned. Thus is night turned in-to day, and day in-to

night; winter in-to sommer, and sommer in-to winter; not in 45

dede, but in misclepinge of foliche people.'

'Now,' quod she, 'what wenest thou of these thinges? How

felest thou in thyn hert, by what governaunce that this cometh

aboute?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'that wot I never; but-if it be that Fortune 50

hath graunt from above, to lede the ende of man as her lyketh.'

'Ah! now I see,' quod she, 'th'entent of thy mening! Lo,

bycause thy worldly goodes ben fulliche dispent, thou beraft out

of dignitè of office, in whiche thou madest the +gaderinge of thilke

goodes, and yet diddest in that office by counsaile of wyse [before 55

that] any thing were ended; and true were unto hem whos profit

thou shuldest loke; and seest now many that in thilke hervest

made of thee mokel, and now, for glosing of other, deyneth thee

nought to forther, but enhaunsen false shrewes by witnessinge of

trouthe! These thinges greveth thyn herte, to sene thy-selfe thus 60

abated; and than, frayltè of mankynde ne setteth but litel by the

lesers of suche richesse, have he never so moche vertue; and so

thou wenest of thy jewel to renne in dispyt, and not ben accepted

in-to grace. Al this shal thee nothing hinder. Now (quod she)

first thou wost wel, thou lostest nothing that ever mightest thou 65

chalenge for thyn owne. Whan nature brought thee forth, come

thou not naked out of thy +moders wombe? Thou haddest no

richesse; and whan thou shalt entre in-to the ende of every

flesshly body, what shalt thou have with thee than? So, every

richesse thou hast in tyme of thy livinge, nis but lent; thou 70

might therin chalenge no propertee. And see now; every thing

that is a mannes own, he may do therwith what him lyketh, to

yeve or to kepe; bul richesse thou playnest from thee lost; if thy

might had strecched so ferforth, fayn thou woldest have hem kept,

multiplyed with mo other; and so, ayenst thy wil, ben they departed 75

from thee; wherfore they were never thyn. And if thou laudest

and joyest any wight, for he is stuffed with suche maner richesse,

thou art in that beleve begyled; for thou wenest thilke joye to be

selinesse or els ese; and he that hath lost suche happes to ben

unsely.' 80

'Ye, forsoth,' quod I.

'Wel,' quod she, 'than wol I prove that unsely in that wise is

to preise; and so the tother is, the contrary, to be lacked.'

'How so?' quod I.

'For Unsely,' quod she, 'begyleth nat, but sheweth th'entent 85

of her working. _Et e contra_: Selinesse begyleth. For in prosperitè

she maketh a jape in blyndnesse; that is, she wyndeth him to

make sorowe whan she withdraweth. Wolt thou nat (quod she)

preise him better that sheweth to thee his herte, tho[ugh] it be

with bytande wordes and dispitous, than him that gloseth and 90

thinketh in +his absence to do thee many harmes?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'the oon is to commende; and the other to

lacke and dispice.'

'A! ha!' quod she, 'right so Ese, while +she lasteth, gloseth

and flatereth; and lightly voydeth whan she most plesauntly 95

sheweth; and ever, in hir absence, she is aboute to do thee tene

and sorowe in herte. But Unsely, al-be-it with bytande chere,

sheweth what she is, and so doth not that other; wherfore

Unsely doth not begyle. Selinesse disceyveth; Unsely put away

doute. That oon maketh men blynde; that other openeth their 100

eyen in shewinge of wrecchidnesse. The oon is ful of drede to

lese that is not his owne; that other is sobre, and maketh men

discharged of mokel hevinesse in burthen. The oon draweth

a man from very good; the other haleth him to vertue by the

hookes of thoughtes. And wenist thou nat that thy disese hath 105

don thee mokel more to winne than ever yet thou lostest, and

more than ever the contrary made thee winne? Is nat a greet

good, to thy thinking, for to knowe the hertes of thy sothfast

frendes? Pardè, they ben proved to the ful, and the trewe have

discevered fro the false. Trewly, at the goinge of the ilke brotel 110

joye, ther yede no more away than the ilke that was nat thyn

proper. He was never from that lightly departed; thyn owne

good therfore leveth it stille with thee. Now good (quod she);

for how moche woldest thou somtyme have bought this verry

knowing of thy frendes from the flatteringe flyes that thee glosed, 115

whan thou thought thy-selfe sely? But thou that playnest of losse

in richesse, hast founden the most dere-worthy thing; that thou

clepest unsely hath made thee moche thing to winnen. And

also, for conclusioun of al, he is frende that now leveth nat his

herte from thyne helpes. And if that Margarite denyeth now nat 120

to suffre her vertues shyne to thee-wardes with spredinge bemes,

as far or farther than if thou were sely in worldly joye, trewly,

I saye nat els but she is somdel to blame.'

'Ah! pees,' quod I, 'and speke no more of this; myn herte

breketh, now thou touchest any suche wordes!' 125

'A! wel!' quod she, 'thanne let us singen; thou herest no

more of these thinges at this tyme.'

THUS ENDETH THE FIRSTE BOOK OF THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE;

AND HERAFTER FOLOWETH THE SECONDE.

CH. X. 1. nowe. 2. abiection; _read_ objeccion. be; _read_ by. the. 3. the.

4. the. encrease the. nowe. 5. obiection. 6. let. 7. maye. se nowe. 12.

nowe. 14. set. 15. can ne never; _omit_ ne. 18. wytte. false. 19. auer

(_sic_); _for_ aueir (_avoir_). howe. cleaped. false. 24. onely. 25. wotte.

new. 26. whome. 27. worlde.

29. reason. 32. arne a fayre parsel. 33. nowe. 37. se. 39. pouertie. 40.

hydde. forsworne. 44. daye (_twice_). 46. miscleapynge. 50. wotte. 52. nowe

I se. thentent. meanyng. 53. berafte. 54. gatherynge. 55. _I supply_ before

that. 56. whose profyte. 57. nowe. 58. the (_twice_). nowe. 63. dispyte.

64. the. Nowe. 65. woste.

66. the forthe. 67. mothers; _read_ moders. 69. the. 70. haste. lente. 71.

propertie. se nowe. 72. owne. 73. the. 74. stretched. fayne. 76. the. 78.

arte. 79. ease. loste. 84. Howe. 85. thentent. 88. Wolte. 89. the. 91.

their; _read_ his. the. 92. one. 94. ease. he; _read_ she. 99. dothe.

awaye. 100-1. one (_twice_). 101. wretchydnesse.

103. one. 105. disease. 106. done the. 107. the. great. 109. Pardy. 111.

awaye. 111-2. thyne. 113. leaueth. the. Nowe. 114. howe. 115. the. 117.

thynge. 118. cleapest. the. thynge. 119. nowe leaueth. 120. hert. nowe.

121. the. spreadynge beames. 122. farre. 123. somdele. 124. peace. myne.

125. breaketh nowe. 126. lette.

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.

Very welth may not be founden in al this worlde; and that

is wel sene. Lo! how in my mooste comfort, as I wende

and moost supposed to have had ful answere of my contrary

thoughtes, sodaynly it was vanisshed. And al the workes of man

faren in the same wyse; whan folk wenen best her entent for to 5

have and willes to perfourme, anon chaunging of the lift syde to

the right halve tourneth it so clene in-to another kynde, that never

shal it come to the first plyte in doinge.

O this wonderful steering so soone otherwysed out of knowinge!

But for my purpos was at the beginninge, and so dureth yet, if god 10

of his grace tyme wol me graunt, I thinke to perfourme this

worke, as I have begonne, in love; after as my thinne wit, with

inspiracion of him that hildeth al grace, wol suffre. Grevously,

god wot, have I suffred a greet throwe that the Romayne

emperour, which in unitè of love shulde acorde, and every with 15

other * * * * in cause of other to avaunce; and namely, sithe

this empyre [nedeth] to be corrected of so many sectes in heresie

of faith, of service, o[f] rule in loves religion. Trewly, al were

it but to shende erroneous opinions, I may it no lenger suffre.

For many men there ben that sayn love to be in gravel and sande, 20

that with see ebbinge and flowinge woweth, as riches that sodaynly

vanissheth. And some sayn that love shulde be in windy blastes,

that stoundmele turneth as a phane, and glorie of renomè, which

after lustes of the varyaunt people is areysed or stilled.

Many also wenen that in the sonne and the moone and other 25

sterres love shulde ben founden; for among al other planettes

moste soveraynly they shynen, as dignitees in reverence of estates

rather than good han and occupyen. Ful many also there ben

that in okes and in huge postes supposen love to ben grounded,

as in strength and in might, whiche mowen not helpen their owne 30

wrecchidnesse, whan they ginne to falle. But [of] suche diversitè

of sectes, ayenst the rightful beleve of love, these errours ben forth

spredde, that loves servantes in trewe rule and stedfast fayth in

no place daren apere. Thus irrecuperable joy is went, and anoy

endless is entred. For no man aright reproveth suche errours, 35

but [men] confirmen their wordes, and sayn, that badde is noble

good, and goodnesse is badde; to which folk the prophete biddeth

wo without ende.

Also manye tonges of greet false techinges in gylinge maner,

principally in my tymes, not only with wordes but also with armes, 40

loves servauntes and professe in his religion of trewe rule pursewen,

to confounden and to distroyen. And for as moche as holy +faders,

that of our Christen fayth aproved and strengthed to the Jewes, as

to men resonable and of divinitè lerned, proved thilke fayth with

resones, and with auctoritès of the olde testament and of the newe, 45

her pertinacie to distroy: but to paynims, that for beestes and

houndes were holde, to putte hem out of their errour, was +miracle

of god shewed. These thinges were figured by cominge of th'angel

to the shepherdes, and by the sterre to paynims kinges; as who

sayth: angel resonable to resonable creature, and sterre of miracle 50

to people bestial not lerned, wern sent to enforme. But I, lovers

clerk, in al my conning and with al my mightes, trewly I have no

suche grace in vertue of miracles, ne for no discomfit falsheedes

suffyseth not auctoritès alone; sithen that suche [arn] heretikes

and maintaynours of falsitès. Wherfore I wot wel, sithen that 55

they ben men, and reson is approved in hem, the clowde of errour

hath her reson beyond probable resons, whiche that cacchende

wit rightfully may not with-sitte. By my travaylinge studie I have

ordeyned hem, +whiche that auctoritè, misglosed by mannes

reson, to graunt shal ben enduced. 60

Now ginneth my penne to quake, to thinken on the sentences

of the envyous people, whiche alway ben redy, both ryder and

goer, to scorne and to jape this leude book; and me, for rancour

and hate in their hertes, they shullen so dispyse, that although

my book be leude, yet shal it ben more leude holden, and by 65

wicked wordes in many maner apayred. Certes, me thinketh,

[of] the sowne of their badde speche right now is ful bothe myne

eeres. O good precious Margaryte, myne herte shulde wepe if

I wiste ye token hede of suche maner speche; but trewly, I wot

wel, in that your wysdom shal not asterte. For of god, maker of 70

kynde, witnesse I took, that for none envy ne yvel have I drawe

this mater togider; but only for goodnesse to maintayn, and

errours in falsetees to distroy. Wherfore (as I sayd) with reson

I thinke, thilke forsayd errours to distroye and dequace.

These resons and suche other, if they enduce men, in loves 75

service, trewe to beleve of parfit blisse, yet to ful faithe in

credence of deserte fully mowe they nat suffyse; sithen 'faith hath

no merite of mede, whan mannes reson sheweth experience in

doing.' For utterly no reson the parfit blisse of love by no waye

may make to be comprehended. Lo! what is a parcel of lovers 80

joye? Parfit science, in good service, of their desyre to comprehende

in bodily doinge the lykinge of the soule; not as by

a glasse to have contemplacion of tyme cominge, but thilke first

imagined and thought after face to face in beholding. What

herte, what reson, what understandinge can make his heven to be 85

feled and knowe, without assaye in doinge? Certes, noon. Sithen

thanne of love cometh suche fruite in blisse, and love in him-selfe

is the most among other vertues, as clerkes sayn; the seed of

suche springinge in al places, in al countreys, in al worldes shulde

ben sowe. 90

But o! welawaye! thilke seed is forsake, and +mowe not ben

suffred, the lond-tillers to sette a-werke, without medlinge of

cockle; badde wedes whiche somtyme stonken +han caught the

name of love among idiotes and badde-meninge people. Never-the-later,

yet how-so-it-be that men clepe thilke +thing preciousest 95

in kynde, with many eke-names, that other thinges that the soule

yeven the ilke noble name, it sheweth wel that in a maner men

have a greet lykinge in worshippinge of thilke name. Wherfore

this worke have I writte; and to thee, tytled of Loves name,

I have it avowed in a maner of sacrifyse; that, where-ever it be 100

rad, it mowe in merite, by the excellence of thilke name, the

more wexe in authoritè and worshippe of takinge in hede; and to

what entent it was ordayned, the inseëres mowen ben moved.

Every thing to whom is owande occasion don as for his ende,

Aristotle supposeth that the actes of every thinge ben in a maner 105

his final cause. A final cause is noblerer, or els even as noble,

as thilke thing that is finally to thilke ende; wherfore accion of

thinge everlasting is demed to be eternal, and not temporal;

sithen it is his final cause. Right so the actes of my boke 'Love,'

and love is noble; wherfore, though my book be leude, the cause 110

with which I am stered, and for whom I ought it doon, noble

forsothe ben bothe. But bycause that in conninge I am yong,

and can yet but crepe, this leude A. b. c. have I set in-to lerning;

for I can not passen the telling of three as yet. And if god

wil, in shorte tyme, I shal amende this leudnesse in joininge 115

syllables; whiche thing, for dulnesse of witte, I may not in three

letters declare. For trewly I saye, the goodnesse of my Margaryte-perle

wolde yeve mater in endyting to many clerkes; certes, her

mercy is more to me swetter than any livinges; wherfore my

lippes mowen not suffyse, in speking of her ful laude and worshippe 120

as they shulde. But who is that [wolde be wyse] in

knowing of the orders of heven, and putteth his resones in the

erthe? I forsothe may not, with blere eyen, the shyning sonne of

vertue in bright whele of this Margaryte beholde; therfore as yet

I may her not discryve in vertue as I wolde. In tyme cominge, 125

in another tretyse, thorow goddes grace, this sonne in clerenesse

of vertue to be-knowe, and how she enlumineth al this day,

I thinke to declare.

CH. I. 2. howe. comforte. 3. hadde. 5. folke. 6. anone. 10. purpose. 12.

wytte. 14. wotte. great. 16. _(Something seems to be lost here)._ 17. _I

supply_ nedeth. 18. o; _read_ of. 19. erronyous. maye. 20. menne. sayne.

26. amonge.

31. wretchydnesse. fal. _I supply_ of. 32. forthe. 33. stedfaste faythe.

34. darne. 35. endlesse. 36. _I supply_ men. 37. folke. 39. great. 40.

onely. 42. fathers; _read_ faders. 44. faythe. 47. put. miracles; _read_

miracle. 48. thangel. 50. saythe. 51. werne. 53. discomfyte. 54. _I supply_

arn. 55. wotte. 56. reason. erroure. 57. reason. bewonde (_sic_). catchende

wytte. 59. with; _read_ whiche. 60. reason. 61. Nowe. 62. alwaye. 63.

booke. rancoure. 64. althoughe. 65. booke.

67. _I supply_ of. nowe. 69. wotte. 70. wysdome 71. toke. 73. reason. 75.

reasons. 76. parfyte. 78-9. reason (_twice_). 79. parfyte. 80. maye.

persel. 81. parfyte. 85. reason. 86. none. 88. amonge. sayne. 88-91. sede.

91. mowen; _read_ mowe. 92. londe-tyllers. set. 93. hath; _read_ han. 94.

meanynge. 95. howe. menne cleape. kynge (_sic_); _read_ thing. 98. great.

99. the. 101. radde.

104. thynge. done. 107. thynge. 110. boke. 111. done (_sic_). 112. yonge.

113. canne. sette. 114. thre. 116. thynge. maye. thre. 121. that in knowyng

(_sic_); _supply_ wolde be wyse _before_ in knowing. 125. maye. 126.

thorowe. 127. howe.

Chaucerian and Other Pieces Being a Supplement to the Complete Works of Geoffrey Chaucer · 第 1 / 23 章