|b{The_Testament_of_Love,_in_Chaucerian_and_other_Pieces,}
|b{ed._Walter_W._Skeat._London:_Oxford_University_Press,_1897,}
|b{pp._1-145.}
|b{No_bybed_lines.}



|p1


                    THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE.

                          PROLOGUE.

     |r<b> 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.
   5    Soothly, dul wit and a thoughtful soule so sore have myned
     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
  10 to springe; this book, that nothing hath of the greet flode of
     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
  15 some with vers, as with red inke, and some with coles and
     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 occu_pacion
  20 is not to prayse but by the leude; for comunly leude
     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



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     endyte, and have many noble thinges fulfild; but certes, there
  25 ben some that speken their poysye-mater in Frenche, of whiche
     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
  30 termes conne jumpere in his mater, but as the jay chatereth
     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
  35 facultee; and let Frenchmen in their Frenche also endyten their
     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
  40 in travaile, yet suche wrytinges excyten men to thilke thinges that
     ben necessarie; for every man therby may, as by a perpetual
     mirrour, seen the vyces or vertues of other, in whiche thing
     lighthy may be conceyved to eschewe perils, and necessaries to
     cacche, after as aventures have fallen to other people or persons.
  45    Certes, [perfeccion is] the soveraynest thing of desyre, and
     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 com_parisoned
     to unresonable, and made lyke hem. For-sothe, the
  50 most soverayne and fynal perfeccion of man is in knowing of
     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
  55 loving his creatour is the consideracion of thinges made by the
     creatour, wherthrough, by thilke thinges that ben made under_stonding
     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



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  60 to the ful knowleginge [of] sothe, and to the parfit love of the
     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
  65 phihosophers: `it is a greet lyking in love of knowinge their
     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.
  70 Herfore, truly, the philosophers, with a lyvely studie, many
     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) philo_sophers
     it was more joy, more lykinge, more herty lust, in
  75 kyndely vertues and maters of reson, the perfeccion by busy
     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,
  80 that is to sayne, in Styx, the foule pitte of helle, arn thilke pressed
     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.
  85    But now, thou reder, who is thilke that wil not in scorne
     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
  90 noble might never wagge? And that, passing al thinge, to ben
     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
  95 of me, that I, so unworthily clothed al-togider in the cloudy cloude



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      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
  100 mad therof grete rekes and noble, ful of al plentees, to fede me
      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
  105 shockes, yet have I ensample to gadere the smale crommes,
      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.
  110    Yet also have I leve of the noble husbande Boce, al-though
      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.
  115 A slye servaunt in his owne helpe is often moche commended;
      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,
  120 by sharpnesse of their resons. Utterly these thinges be no
      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
  125 dryinge coldes maked the wawes of the occian-see so to aryse
      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.



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                             CHAPTER I.

      |r<b> 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
   5 entencions of lamentacion that now ben y-nempned! For any
     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,
  10 that endeles care is throughout myne herte clenched; blisse of
     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, thought_ful,
  15 sightles lokinge, I endure my penaunce in this derke prison,
     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
  20 mynde on thy servaunt; and thinke on his disese, how lightles he
     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
  25 comforte; yet whyles that, me sorouful to comforte, is my lust
     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
  30 penaunce rather than myn hertely thinking comfort in ought
     were disesed! What may my service avayle, in absence of her
     that my service shulde accepte? Is this nat endeles sorowe to



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     thinke? Yes, yes, god wot; myn herte breketh nigh a-sonder.
     How shulde the ground, without kyndly noriture, bringen forth
  35 any frutes? How shulde a ship, withouten a sterne, in the grete see
     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
  40 art thou out of paradise, with swete thy sustenaunce to be_swinke!'
     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
  45 to steye on is none; so that, without recover, endeles here to
     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
  50 clothes, and that the soule in the whiche the lyfe of frendship was
     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
  55 spilleth; al thinges have I forsake to folowen thyn hestes;
     rewarde me with a thought, though ye do naught els. Remem_braunce
     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
  60 wreche and your daunger; from whiche Christ me save! My
     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,
  65 thinke on this. O wrecched foole that I am, fallen in-to so lowe,
     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.



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     Trewly, lady, but your mercy the more were, I wot wel al my
  70 labour were in ydel; your mercy than passeth right. God graunt
     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 impos_sible,
     the colours of your qualitees to chaunge: and forsothe I
     wot wel, wem ne spot may not abyde there so noble vertue
  75 haboundeth, so that the defasing to you is verily [un]imaginable,
     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
  80 souded, that away from your service in love may he not departe.
     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,
  85 out-cast of al welfare, abyde the day of my dethe, or els to see the
     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
  90 may not thilke knotte unbynde ne departe; so that ye and my
     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,
  95 though I be feble; for thou art wont to prayse them better that
     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,
  100 [ther]-as galle and aloes are so moche spronge, that savour of
      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



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  105 al other people by habundaunce of encresing, sheweth to me
      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
  110 my steppes by comune course even-forth pretende. These
      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;
  115 and the blisful syde halt stil awayward, and wol it not suffre to
      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
  120 in-to my soule; wherefore, purely mated with sorowe thorough_sought,
      my-selfe I crye on your goodnesse to have pite 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
  125 told and to you-wardes shewed; although moche space is bitwene
      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)
  130 thee list non answere to yeve, but with a deynous chere ye
      commaunden it to avoide; but god forbid that any word shuld of
      you springe to have so litel routh! Pard, pit 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,
  135 withouten mercy and pit of you alone; whiche thinges hastely
      god me graunt for his mercy!



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                           CHAPTER II.

      |r<b> 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
   5  sodainly a maner of drede lighte in me al at ones; nought suche
      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
  10  goodly subjeccion; namely, as men reden that aungels ben aferde
      of our saviour in heven. And pard, 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.
  15  Suche ferde also han these lovers in presence of their loves, and
      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
  20  trewly, in the blustringe of her looke, she yave gladnesse and
      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
  25  voyce, as I durste, I salued her, and enquired what she was;
      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,
  30  to comforte, me semed that I was so fer fallen in-to miserye and
      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



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      apperceyved, as wel by my wordes as by my chere, what thought
  35  besied me within, with a good womanly countenance she sayde
      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
  40  tyme of perturbacion as of moost propertee of blisse; in me shal
      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.'
  45     `Now, good lady,' quod I, `that art so fayre on to loke,
      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
  50 eyen?'
         `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
  55  excellence, for to come in-to so foule a place? Pard, somtyme,
      tho I was in prosperite 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
  60 thyn owne vyse, to comforte me with wordes; and so there_thorough
      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,
  65  that me anoyeth efte to be in doinge. Thus thy cominge bothe
      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,



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  70 that wit in thee fayleth, and [thou] art in pointe
      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
  75  by reson to seke his sperkelande sheep, that arn ronne in-to
      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
  80 to the swalowinge wolfe, yet shal the shepherde, by businesse and
      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
  85  me-ward be knit in any condicion, I wol rather dye than suffre
      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, pard, have I many such holpe
  90 and releved, and they have ofte me begyled; but ever, at the ende,
      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,
  95  `most of al, maked I not a loveday bytwene god and mankynde,
      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
  100 assayes, in thy wil to be redy myn hestes to have folowed and
      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



|p12


  105 no more hereafter thee amaistry. Wherthrough I hope thou
      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
  110 boure by a perpetuel mirrour of their tr[o]uthe in my service?
      Who hath caused worthy folk to voyde vyce and shame? Who
      hath holde cytees and realmes in prosperit? 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,
  115 causing these thinges and many mo other.'
         `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.'
  120    `Wel than,' quod she, `for I see thee in disese and sorowe,
      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
  125 wight, it is greet gladnesse. Right so, with my sicke frendes I am
      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 hevi_nesse
      biforn did in tene. And also,' quod she, `whan any of my
  130 servauntes ben alone in solitary place, I have yet ever besied me
      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
  135 also to lerne maner in countenaunce, in wordes, and in bering,
      and to ben meke and lowly to every wight, his name and fame to
      encrese; and to yeve gret yeftes and large, that his renom may
      springen. But thee therof have I excused; for thy losse and thy
      grete costages, wherthrough thou art nedy, arn nothing to me
  140 unknowen; but I hope to god somtyme it shal ben amended, as



|p13


      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 acqueyn_taunce,
      hasteliche have I suche voyded out of my scole. For
  145 al vyces trewly I hate; vertues and worthinesse in al my power
      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.
  150 Trewly, al maner of blisse and preciousnesse in vertue out of
      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
  155 perfeccion. How dare than beestes in this worlde aught forfete
      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
  160 coude I never do as I shulde; yet, forsothe, fayned I never to
      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
  165 have thee here visited.'
         `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
  170 tourne.'
         `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
  175 never god that I shuld now fayle; but ever I wol be redy
      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



|p14


      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
  180 in-to this prison, to voyde the webbes of thyne eyen, to make thee
      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
  185 otherwyse than the sothe, I wol and I charge thee, in vertue of
      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
  190 wryter, and yeve remembraunce to the herer; and if any wol in
      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
  195 the beste that may be founde wol not transverse thy wordes;
      wherof than woldest thou drede?'


                           CHAPTER III.

      |r<b> GRETLY was I tho gladded of these wordes, and (as who
         saith) wexen somdel light in herte; both for the auctorit
      of witnesse, and also for sikernesse of helpe of the forsayd
      beheste, and sayd: --
   5     `Trewly, lady, now am I wel gladded through comfort of
      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
  10  amased cloude. Thee were better to here thing that thee might
      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



|p15


  15  me seen thy hevy charge, that I may the lightlier for thy comfort
      purveye.'
         `Now, certes, lady,' quod I, `the moste comfort I might have
      were utterly to wete me be sure im herte of that Margaryte I
      serve; and so I thinke to don with al mightes, whyle my lyfe
  20  dureth.'
         `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.'
  25    `And I do thee to weten,' quod she, `I sette never yet person
      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,
  30  in tyme whan Octobre his leve ginneth take and Novembre
      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
  35  tyme of plentee he that hath an home and is wyse, list not to
      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
  40  in that tyme of winter. By woodes that large stretes wern in,
      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
  45  wilde. Than, er I was war, I neyghed to a see-banke; and for
      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
  50  hyed.
         Than were there y-nowe to lacche myn handes, and drawe me



|p16


      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
  55  shippe of Traveyle. So whan the sayl was sprad, and this ship
      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
  60  maner gan so faste us assayle, that I supposed the date of my
      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,
  65  where utterly I wende first to have be rescowed; but trewly, at
      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
  70  weten what we weren. But first ye were deynous of chere, after
      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
  75  opened the more; and so in a litel tyme my ship was out of
      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.
  80  And ye tolden your-selfe, that ilke jewel in his kinde was so
      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
  85  founden oon to his lyking, be solde al his good to bye that jewel.
      Y-wis, thought I, (and yet so I thinke), now have I founden the
      jewel that myn herte desyreth; wherto shulde I seche further?



|p17


      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
  90  I shulde so suche a service me take; and so to desyre that thing,
      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, pard, ye wete wel
  95  that defaut ne trespace may not resonably ben put to me-wardes,
      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
  100 locke, and the keye throwe in suche place that it may not be
      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
  105 have ben enmoysed with sight; and for wantinge of these thinges
      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.
  110 Wherfore, kneling with a lowe herte, I pray you to rue on this
      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
  115 any wyse after socour loke, whan I, that am so privy, yet of helpe
      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
  120 presence, right here wolde I sterve. And yet a litel am I gladded,
      that so goodly suche grace and non hap have I lent, graciously
      to fynde the precious Margarite, that (al other left) men shulde
      bye, if they shulde therfore selle al her substaunce. Wo is me,



|p18


      that so many let-games and purpose-brekers ben maked wayters,
  125 suche prisoners as I am to overloke and to hinder; and, for
      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
  130 wolde I playne, that ye rule your devyne purveyaunce amonges
      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,
  135 wold adorne and make fayre al a realme; the nobley of vertue is
      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
  140 withouten recovery. Although I might hence voyde, yet wolde
      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;
  145 and for I see you taken so litel hede, as me thinketh, and wol
      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,
  150 that stonding is me best; unneth may I ligge for pure misesy
      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;
  155 but who shal yeve me water ynough to drinke, lest myn eyen
      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
  160 more thrist I in gladnesse. Who shal than yeve me a contrarious



|p19


      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 uncon_ning,
      save the Margaryte alone, any suche remedye to purveye.'


                           CHAPTER IV.

      |r<b> 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;
   5  and gan soberly and in esy maner speke, wel avysinge what
      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 auctorit of esy wordes is
  10  the more; and eke, they yeven the more understandinge to other
      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 sem_blaunt,
      as fer as I can espye, thou list not to have any recour;
  15  but ever thou playnest and sorowest, and wayes of remedye, for
      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
  20  the felinge of the firste tenes. But thou that were wont not only
      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
  25  thinges. O where hast thou be so longe commensal, that hast so
      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



|p20


      a worthy person to helpe other, that can not counsayle him-selfe!'
  30  And with these wordes, for pure and stronge shame, I wox al
      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
  35  Margarite getten, if I folowed her hestes; and gan with a fayre
      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.
  40  In vayne travayle men to cacche any stedship, but-if ye, lady,
      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
  45  imperciable harneys; ye setten in her hertes insuperable blood of
      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.'
  50     `Myne owne servaunt,' quod she, `trewly thou sittest nye
      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
  55  forbid that nyse unthrifty thought shulde come in thy mynde,
      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
  60  distroyen, and putte ful hope in thyn herte. What understondest
      thou there.' quod she, `by that thou saydest, "many let-games
      are thyn overlokers?"  And also by "that thy moeble is in_suffysaunt"?
      I not what thou therof menest.'
         `Trewly,' quod I, `by the first I say, that janglers evermore
  65  arn spekinge rather of yvel than of good; for every age of man



|p21


      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,
  70  for al his gret sothnesse.
         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
  75  at her wil ben sette at the highest degree, and most in reverence
      ben accepted. For false wening maketh felicit 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
  80  by the leest point that any wight coude pricke.


                          CHAPTER V.

      |r<b> 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?
   5     `Yes, forsothe,' quod I.
         `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
  10  service; and yet Jupiter by signes, without any speche, had
      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 privyt, why twey
      persons entremellen hertes after a sight. The power in knowing,
  15  of such thinges to preven, shal nat al utterly be yeven to you
      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.



|p22


      Wherfore I saye, al the envy, al the janglinge, that wel ny [al]
  20  people upon my servauntes maken ofte, is rather cause of esployte
      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.'
  25     `O,' quod she, `hold now thy pees. I have founden to many
      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
  30  was y-crowned? By god, nat the strongest; but he that rathest
      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
  35  and now another; and in-to water entreth and anon respireth:
      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
  40  their steppes; and than might thou not fayle, in case thou worche
      in this wyse.'
         `Certes', quod I, `it is nothing lich, this world,to tyme
      passed; eke this countr hath oon maner, and another countr
      hath another. And so may nat a man alway putte to his eye the
  45  salve that he heled with his hele. For this is sothe: betwixe
      two thinges liche, ofte dyversit is required.'
      `Now,' quod she, `that is sothe; dyversit of nation, dyversit of
      lawe, as was maked by many resons; for that dyversit cometh in
      by the contrarious malice of wicked people, that han envyous hertes
  50  ayenst other. But trewly, my lawe to my servauntes ever hath
      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 necessit



|p23


  55  therof, or els the impossibilit: right so the lawe of my servauntes
      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
  60  to lawe of kynde, whiche yet hath be commune to every kyndely
      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,
  65  ofte causen diseses and breken many purposes. Yet saye I nat
      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
  70  used; wherfore I wol not yet that of my lawes nothing be adnulled.
      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
  75  maynteyne that thou hast begonne; and a litel thee fayne with
      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
  80  meninge, for-sothe ever was and ever it shal be, that myn enemyes
      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
  85  sowe his cornes, he shal have than [bare] bernes. Also he that
      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
  90  wordes, cometh "huissht! pees! and be stille!"'
         `O good lady! ' quod I than, `see now how, seven yere passed



|p24


      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
  95  a wedded Rachel his doughter; but blere-eyed Lya is brought to
      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
  100 I may wepe with Rachel. I may not ben counsayled with solace,
      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,
  105 what ever ye do els, that thilke Margaryte be holden so, lady, in
      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
  110 this on thy person be not sothed: "lo! this man began to edefye,
      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
  115 persons as loven the first sittinges at feestes, the highest stoles 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
  120 my blisse. Truly, my maner here-toforn hath ben [to] worship[pe]
      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.
  125 Thus, by these wayes, shul men ben avaunced; ensample of
      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 degr in Rome, to be
      mayster of al erthly princes; and Eneas from hel, to be king of



|p25


  130 the countr there Rome is now stonding. And so to thee I say;
      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.



                              CHAPTER VI.

      |r<b> 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.'
   5     `Ye, forsothe,' quod I; `and that, so comenly, the people wol
      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
  10  make[th] thee ben more worthy, to hem that knowen of the soth;
      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 disceyv_able
      glosing of thyne enemy; above that than, to be wel with thy
  15  frende maketh [voyd] suche enfame. Ergo, thou art encresed
      and not apeyred.'
         `Lady,' quod I, `somtyme yet, if a man be in disese, th'estima_cion
      of the envyous people ne loketh nothing to desertes of men,
      ne to the merytes of their doinges, but only to the aventure of
  20  fortune; and therafter they yeven their sentence. And some
      loken the voluntary wil in his herte, and therafter telleth his
      jugement; not taking hede to reson ne to the qualit 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
  25  cause; and he that hath adversit, they sayn he is weked; and
      hath deserved thilke anoy. The contrarye of these thinges some



|p26


      men holden also; and sayn that to the riche prosperit is pur_vayed
      in-to his confusion; and upon this mater many autorits
      of many and greet-witted clerkes they alegen. And some men
  30  sayn, though al good estimacion forsake folk that han adversit,
      yet is it meryte and encrees of his blisse; so that these purposes
      arn so wonderful in understanding, that trewly, for myn adversit
      now, I not how the sentence of the indifferent people wil jugen
      my fame.'
  35     `Therfore,' quod she, `if any wight shulde yeve a trewe sen_tence
      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
  40  namely of a wyse man, his wit ought not, without reson to-forn
      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
  45  conuersion from badde in-to good; and that is so rehersed, as
      by a perpetual mirrour of remembraunce, in worshippinge of
      tho sayntes, and good ensample to other misdoers in amende_ment.
      How turned the Romayne Zedeoreys fro the Romaynes,
      to be with Hanibal ayenst his kynde nacion; and afterwardes,
  50  him seming the Romayns to be at the next degr of confusion,
      turned to his olde alyes; by whose witte after was Hanibal dis_comfited.
      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
  55  grete maters of ruling of citizins; and thilke thinges ben my
      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
  60  and laboured, with al my diligence, in werkinge of thilke maters
      to the ende. And trewly, lady, to telle you the sothe, me rought
      litel of any hate of the mighty senatours in thilke cit, ne of



|p27


      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.
  65  Another was, for commen profit in cominaltee is not but pees and
      tranquilit, 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,
  70  and of my medlinge and badde infame that I was in ronne, tho
      [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
  75  circumstaunce I might wel have feled.
         Now than tho persones that suche thinges have cast to redresse,
      for wrathe of my first medlinge, shopen me to dwelle in this pyn_ande
      prison, til Lachases my threed no lenger wolde twyne. And
      ever I was sought, if me liste to have grace of my lyfe and
  80  frenesse of that prison, I shulde openly confesse how pees might
      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
  85  kepe above al thinges I am holde to mayntayne, and namely in
      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
  90  people ne indignacion of the worthy, for nothinge that ever I
      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
  95  stryf they maynteyned, and in distruccion on that other syde;
      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



|p28


      growen; (and more kyndely love have I to that place than to any
  100 other in erthe, as every kyndely creature hath ful appetyte to that
      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 ever_lasting
  105 must the pees by god commended bothe mayntayne and
      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
  110 may have non insight. Also this god, by his coming, made not
      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,
  115 shewinge that pees moste is necessarie to comunaltees and citees.
      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
  120 people, that have non insight of gubernatif prudence, to clamure
      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
  125 executours of tho maters, and auctorit of execucion by comen
      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.
  130     The governementes (quod they) of your cit, lefte in the handes
      of torcencious citezins, shal bringe in pestilence and distruccion
      to you, good men; and therfore let us have the comune ad_ministracion
      to abate suche yvels. Also (quod they) it is worthy
      the good to commende, and the gilty desertes to chastice. There
  135 ben citezens many, for-ferde of execucion that shal be doon; for



|p29


      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 misgover_naunce
  140 that they seen. And so, lady, whan it fel that free
      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; not_withstandinge
  145 that in the contrary helden moche comune meyny,
      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;
  150 and under that, mokil rore [to] have arered. These thinges, lady,
      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
  155 and rest to be furthered and holde. Of the whiche thinges, lady,
      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.
  160    But now it greveth me to remembre these dyvers sentences, in
      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
  165 only for trouthe of my sacrament in my ligeaunce, by whiche
      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
  170 the noyse, and knewen al these thinges letter than I my-selven,
      apparaylen to fynden newe frendes, and clepen me fals, and



|p30


      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
  175 the forsayd maters, tho me commended, and yave me name of
      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
  180 badde, and badde in to good? Whiche thing is wonder, that
      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
  185 knowleged by the parties hem-selfe; and god wot, other mater
      is non. Ye also, lady, knowe these thinges for trewe; I avaunte
      not in praysing of my-selfe; therby shulde I lese the precious
      secr of my conscience. But ye see wel that false opinion of the
      people for my trouthe, in telling out of false conspyred maters;
  190 and after the jugement of these clerkes, I shulde not hyde the
      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
  195 put it in scripture, in perpetuel remembraunce of true meninge.
      For trewly, lady, me semeth that I ought to bere the name of
      trouthe, that for the love of rightwysnesse have thus me sub_mitted.
      But now than the false fame, which that (clerkes sayn)
      flyeth as faste as doth the fame of trouthe, shal so wyde sprede
  200 til it be brought to the jewel that I of mene; and so shal I ben
      hindred, withouten any mesure of trouthe.'



|p31


                            CHAPTER VII.

      |r<b> 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?'
   5     `Pard,' quod I, `the persones, every thing as I have sayd, han
      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
  10  and other of the realme, that I profered my body so largely in-to
      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
  15  name of marcial doinges most plesen to ladyes of my lore; but
      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,
  20  hath this answere to saye: "trewly thou saydest; for thyne
      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
  25  shame, as thus: "we arn discomfited, and yet our quarel is
      trewe?"  Shal not the loos of thy frendes ayenward dequace thilke
      enfame, and saye they graunted a sothe without a stroke or fight_ing?
      Many men in batayle ben discomfited and overcome in
      a rightful quarel, that is goddes privy jugement in heven; but
  30  yet, although the party be yolden, he may with wordes saye his
      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.



|p32


      Indifferent folk wil say: "ye, who is trewe, who is fals, him-selfe
  35  knowlegeth tho thinges." Thus in every syde fame sheweth to
      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,
  40  in manyfolde maner, wol seche privy serpentynes queintyses, to
      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
  45  ben answered, I trowe. Me thinketh (quod she) right now, by
      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 copu_lacion,
      muste have these lawes, that is, trewe jugement and right_wysenesse;
  50  in whiche thinge if any of these lacke, the ooth is
      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]
  55  dampned.
         Also, to saye tr[o]uthe rightfulliche (but in jugement) other_while
      is forboden, by that al sothes be nat to sane. Therfore in
      jugement, in tr[o]uthe, and rightwisenesse, is every creature
      bounden, up payne of perjury, ful knowing to make, tho[ugh] it
  60  were of his owne persone, for drede of sinne; after that worde,
      "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
  65  derke enfame dare appere, for pure shame of his falsnesse. As some
      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
  70  by false sklaund[r]inge wordes other men shenden, their owne



|p33


      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
  75  therefore may it be sayd in that thinge, "this man thou demest,
      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
  80  the bemes of sclaundring wordes may not be don awaye til the
      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
  85  that fals fame is nat to drede, ne of wyse persons to accepte, and
      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
  90  shewe.'
         `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 secr chambre of thyne herte so
  95  faste hem close that they never flitte; than shalt thou fynde hem
      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
  100 purpose, of thy misaventure sette they nat an hawe. Lo, whan
      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,
  105 lokeden rather after thyne helpes than thee to have releved.
         Owen nat yet some of hem money for his commens? Paydest



|p34


      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, pard, some of hem token money for thy chambre, and
  110 putte tho pens in his purse, unwetinge of the renter.
         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
  115 quarel have been a stinkinge martyr? I wene thou fleddest, as
      longe as thou might, their privit 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
  120 in thy nedy diseses? Now hast thou ensaumple for whom thou
      shalt meddle; trewly, this lore is worth many goodes.'


                           CHAPTER VIII.

      |r<b> 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
   5  sheweth her fayrest, whan she thinketh to begyle. And as me
      thought, here-toforn thou saydest, thy loos in love, for thy right_wysenesse
      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,
  10  endlesse shul endure.
         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 an_guisshe
  15  was greet in tyme of thyne out-waye goinge, right so
      joye and gladnesse shal be doubled to sene thee converted; and



|p35


      nat as Lotles 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
  20  I have in supposinge of thee otherwyse than I shulde. For
      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
  25  good, and have no wil their owne maner to amende. They also
      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,
  30  counterplete th'errours and meninges in as fer as thou hem
      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
  35  rightwysed my cause." And certes (quod she) I witnesse my-selfe,
      if thou, thus converted, sorowest in good meninge in thyne herte,
      [and] wolt from al vanit 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 pit, [she] shul fully
  40  accepte thee in-to grace. For right as thou rentest clothes in
      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
  45  love, with many playted praisinges to folowe; and than shal al
      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 doth alwaye tofore, and praysinge worship by any
  50  cause folowinge after, maketh to ryse the ilke honour in double
      of welth; and that quencheth the spotte of the first enfame. Why



|p36


      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
  55  thy-selfe, that thou in fourme of making passest nat Adam that eet
      of the apple? Thou passest nat the stedfastnesse of Noe, that
      eetinge of the grape becom dronke. Thou passest nat the
      chastit of Lothe, that lay by his doughter; eke the nobley of
      Abraham, whom god reproved by his pryde; also Davides
  60  mekenesse, whiche for a woman made Urye be slawe. What?
      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 priv
  65  consenting, whiche that openly leveth a wrong to withsaye.
         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
  70  tho persones, as thus: To every wight his defaute committed
      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
  75  is non of these thinges writte. Right so, tho I reherce thy
      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 unite and accorde, envy
  80  and wrathe lurken there thou comest in place; ye weten wel
      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,
  85  the maters weren drawen to their right endes. And thus trewly
      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.'



|p37


         `That is a thing,' quod she, `that may drawe many hertes of
  90  noble, and voice of commune in-to glory; and fame is nat but
      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,
  95  is nat the erthe but a centre to the cercle of heven? A pricke is
      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
  100 obstacles, but also citees and realmes of prosperit ben letted to
      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
  105 in many mo places in erthe nat knowen than knowen? For in
      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
  110 previt of hertes to dele suche fame in thilke place there nothing
      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
  115 wrytinges! And yet scriptures for greet elde so ben defased, that
      no perpetualt 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 thou_sand
      shippes ful of corne charged! What nombre is betwene the
  120 oon and th'other? And yet mowe bothe they be nombred, and
      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,
  125 suche comparisoun may nat be founden. Wherfore in heven to



|p38


      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
  130 smale wordes, and of vayne praysinges. Trewly, therin thou
      lesest the guerdon of vertue; and lesest the grettest valour of
      conscience, and uphap thy renom everlasting. Therfore boldely
      renom of fame of the erthe shulde be hated, and fame after deth
      shulde be desyred of werkes of vertue. [Trewly, vertue] asketh
  135 guerdoning, and the soule causeth al vertue. Than the soule,
      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.


                            CHAPTER IX.

      |r<b> 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
   5  coude saye by reson ayenst any of your skilles, as I leve; and by
      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
  10  my kepinge shal nat there-thorow be stered, of the lest moment
      that might be imagined.'
         `That is soth,' quod I.
         `Wel,' quod she, `than leveth there, to declare that thy in_suffisance
      is no maner letting, as thus: for that she is so worthy,
  15  thou shuldest not clymbe so highe; for thy moebles and thyn
      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



|p39


  20  leged: "He that heweth to hye, with chippes he may lese
      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,
  25  and suche herbes as ben planted in oure gardins. Thou shalt
      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
  30  al his manly power, he daunced behynde?'
         `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
  35  serve, and not to goddes?"  And who that liste to have myne
      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 reson_able
      creature in erthe? Is nat every thing, a this halfe god, mad
  40  buxom to mannes contemplation, understandinge in heven and
      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
  45  of lyvinges by a resonable proporcioun. Also man is mad of
      al the foure elementes. Al universitee is rekened in him alone;
      he hath, under god, principalit 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
  50  ten winter; and al this is in mannes governaunce and disposicion.
      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 lord_ship,
      and aske helpe of any-thing lower than him-selfe; and than,
  55  namely, of foule thinges innominable. Now than, why shuldest



|p40


      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
  60  han a maner of soveraigntee; and that shal cese at the daye
      of dome. And so I say: though thou be put to serve the
      ilke jewel duringe thy lyfe, yet is that no servage of under_puttinge,
      but a maner of travayling plesaunce, to conquere and
      gette that thou hast not. I sette now the hardest: in my service
  65  now thou deydest, for sorowe of wantinge in thy desyres; trewly,
      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
  70  now praye to the goddes, rowe by rowe, to make thilk Margarite,
      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
  75  thy presence; and whider thou wilt chese, thilke soule shal ben
      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
  80  to worche al vertues, withdrawen by might of the hygh bodyes.
      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
  85  the knotte to unbynde of two hertes [that] thorow oon assent, in
      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,
  90  do way; they knowe nothing of this. For consent of two hertes



|p41


      alone maketh the fasteninge of the knotte; neither lawe of kynde
      ne mannes lawe determineth neither the age ne the qualit of
      persones, but only accord bitwene thilke twaye. And trewly,
      after tyme that suche accord, by their consent in hert, is enseled,
  95  and put in my tresorye amonges my privy thinges, than ginneth
      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 he not take. The aungel bad Joseph take Marye his
  100 spouse, and to Egypte wende. Lo! she was cleped "spouse,"
      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 ad_herand
      to his spouse; and they two in unite of one flesshe
  105 shulden accorde. And this wyse, two that wern firste in a litel
      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 deter_minacion
      shewen, that "three thinges haven [by] the names
  110 of goddes ben cleped; that is to sayn: man, divel, and images";
      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 adop_cioun
  115 of the everlastinge god. Divels ben goddes, stirringe by
      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
  120 ben neither livinge ne trewe, ne everlastinge. After these wordes
      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
  125 folowe, in-as-moche as longeth to thee, thy faders worship, so



|p42


      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
  129 to serve in to hye a place."


                              CHAPTER X.

      |r<b> 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
   5  last objeccion in nothing may greve.'
         `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
  10  that loos, prise, and name yeven. Tho louteden blasours; tho
      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
  15  the sothe be in the contrarye of al tho thinges. But he that can
      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
  20  of goodes! Also, lady, dignitees of office maken men mikel
      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
  25  fooles, wel I wot, desyren suche newe thinges. Wherfore I wonder
      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



|p43


      unstedfast or happyous thing, but with rules of reson, whiche
  30  shewen the course of certayne thinges: why suffreth he suche
      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
  35  but-if his degr were ordayned noble. Alas! thou that knittest
      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,
  40  and is hid under cloude; but the moone false, forsworn (as
      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
  45  night; winter in-to sommer, and sommer in-to winter; not in
      dede, but in misclepinge of foliche people.'
         `Now,' quod she, `what wenest thou of these thinges? How
      febest thou in thyn hert, by what governaunce that this cometh
      aboute?'
  50     `Certes,' quod I, `that wot I never; but-if it be that Fortune
      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 dignit of office, in whiche thou madest the gaderinge of thilke
  55  goodes, and yet diddest in that office by counsaile of wyse [before
      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
  60  trouthe! These thinges greveth thyn herte, to sene thy-selfe thus
      abated; and than, fraylt 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)
  65  first thou wost wel, thou lostest nothing that ever mightest thou



|p44


      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
  70  richesse thou hast in tyme of thy livinge, nis but lent; thou
      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; but richesse thou playnest from thee lost; if thy
      might had strecched so ferforth, fayn thou woldest have hem kept,
  75  multiplyed with mo other; and so, ayenst thy wil, ben they departed
      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
  80  unsely.'
         `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.
  85     `For Unsely,' quod she, `begyleth nat, but sheweth th'entent
      of her working. Et e contra: Selinesse begyleth. For in prosperit
      she maketh a jape in blyndnesse; that is, she wyndeth him to
      make sorowe whan she withdraweth. Wolt thou nat (quod she)
      preise him letter that sheweth to thee his herte, tho[ugh] it be
  90  with bytande wordes and dispitous, than him that gloseth and
      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
  95  and flatereth; and lightly voydeth whan she most plesauntly
      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
  100 doute. That oon maketh men blynde; that other openeth their
      eyen in shewinge of wrecchidnesse. The oon is ful of drede to



|p45


      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
  105 hookes of thoughtes. And wenist thou nat that thy disese hath
      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? Pard, they ben proved to the ful, and the trewe have
  110 discevered fro the false. Trewly, at the goinge of the ilke brotel
      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
  115 knowing of thy frendes from the flatteringe flyes that thee glosed,
      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
  120 herte from thyne helpes. And if that Margarite denyeth now nat
      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
  125 breketh, now thou touchest any suche wordes!'
         `A! well ' 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.



|p46


                             BOOK II
                            CHAPTER I.

      |r<b> 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
   5  faren in the same wyse; whan folk wenen best her entent for to
      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 otherewysed out of knowinge!
  10  But for my purpos was at the beginninge, and so dureth yet, if god
      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
  15  emperour, which in unit of love shulde acorde, and every with
      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.
  20  For many men there ben that sayn love to be in gravel and sande,
      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 renom, which
      after lustes of the varyaunt people is areysed or stilled.
  25     Many also wenen that in the sonne and the moone and other
      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,
  30  as in strength and in might, whiche mowen not helpen their owne



|p47


      wrecchidnesse, whan they ginne to falle. But [of] suche diversit
      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
  35  endless is entred. For no man aright reproveth suche errours,
      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.
  40  principally in my tymes, not only with wordes but also with armes,
      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 divinit lerned, proved thilke fayth with
  45  resones, and with auctorits of the olde testament and of the newe,
      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
  50  sayth: angel resonable to resonable creature, and sterre of miracle
      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 auctorits alone; sithen that suche [arn] heretikes
  55  and maintaynours of falsits. Wherfore I wot wel, sithen that
      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 auctorit, misglosed by mannes
  60  reson, to graunt shal ben enduced.
         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
  65  my book be leude, yet shal it ben more leude holden, and by
      wicked wordes in many maner apayred. Certes, me thinketh,



|p48


      [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
  70  wel, in that your wysdom shal not asterte. For of god, maker of
      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.
  75      These resons and suche other, if they enduce men, in loves
      service, trewe to beleve of parfit blisse, yet to ful faithe in cre_dence
      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
  80  may make to be comprehended. Lo! what is a parcel of lovers
      joye? Parfit science, in good service, of their desyre to compre_hende
      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
  85  herte, what reson, what understandinge can make his heven to be
      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
  90  ben sowe.
         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,
  95  yet how-so-it-be that men clepe thilke thing preciousest
      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,
  100 I have it avowed in a maner of sacrifyse; that, where-ever it be
      rad, it mowe in merite, by the excellence of thilke name, the
      more wexe in authorit and worshippe of takinge in hede; and to



|p49


      what entent it was ordayned, the inseeres mowen ben moved.
      Every thing to whom is owande occasion don as for his ende,
  105 Aristotle supposeth that the actes of every thinge ben in a maner
      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,'
  110 and love is noble; wherfore, though my book be leude, the cause
      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 lern_ing;
      for I can not passen the telling of three as yet. And if god
  115 wil, in shorte tyme, I shal amende this leudnesse in joininge
      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
  120 lippes mowen not suffyse, in speking of her ful laude and wor_shippe
      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
  125 I may her not discryve in vertue as I wolde. In tyme cominge,
      in another tretyse, thorow goddes grace, this sonne in clerenesse
      of vertue to be-knowe, and how she enlunnineth al this day,
      I thinke to declare.


                          CHAPTER II.

      |r<b> IN this mene whyle this comfortable lady gan singe a wonder
         mater of endytinge in Latin; but trewly, the noble colours in
      rethorik wyse knitte were so craftely, that my conning wol not
      strecche to remembre; but the sentence, I trowe, somdel have
   5  I in mynde. Certes, they were wonder swete of sowne, and they
      were touched al in lamentacion wyse, and by no werbles of
      myrthe. Lo! thus gan she singe in Latin, as I may constrewe it
      in our Englisshe tonge.



|p50


         `Alas! that these hevenly bodyes their light and course shewen,
  10  as nature yave hem in commaundement at the ginning of the first
      age: but these thinges in free choice of reson han non under_stondinge.
      But man that ought to passe al thing of doinge, of
      right course in kynde, over-whelmed sothnesse by wrongful tytle,
      and hath drawen the sterre of envye to gon by his syde, that the
  15  clips of me, that shulde be his shynande sonne, so ofte is seye,
      that it wened thilke errour, thorow hem come in, shulde ben myn
      owne defaute. Trewly, therfore, I have me withdrawe, and mad
      my dwellinge out of lande in an yle by my-selfe, in the occian
      closed; and yet sayn there many, they have me harberowed; but,
  20  god wot, they faylen. These thinges me greven to thinke, and
      namely on passed gladnesse, that in this worlde was wont me
      disporte of highe and lowe; and now it is fayled; they that
      wolden maystries me have in thilke stoundes. In heven on
      highe, above Saturnes sphere, in sesonable tyme were they
  25  lodged; but now come queynte counsailours that in no house
      wol suffre me sojourne, wherof is pit; and yet sayn some that
      they me have in celler with wyne shed; in gernere, there corn is
      layd covered with whete; in sacke, sowed with wolle; in purse,
      with money faste knit; among pannes mouled in a whicche;
  30  in presse. among cloths layd, with riche pelure arayed; in stable,
      among hors and other beestes, as hogges, sheep, and neet; and
      in many other wyse. But thou, maker of light (in winking of
      thyn eye the sonne is queynt), wost right wel that I in trewe name
      was never thus herberowed.
  35     Somtyme, toforn the sonne in the seventh partie was smiten,
      I bar both crosse and mytre, to yeve it where I wolde. With me
      the pope wente a-fote; and I tho was worshipped of al holy
      church. Kinges baden me their crownes holden. The law was
      set as it shuld; tofore the juge, as wel the poore durste shewe
  40  his greef as the riche, for al his money. I defended tho taylages,
      and was redy for the poore to paye. I made grete feestes in my
      tyme, and noble songes, and maryed damoselles of gentil feture,
      withouten golde or other richesse. Poore clerkes, for witte of
      schole, I sette in churches, and made suche persones to preche;



|p51


  45  and tho was service in holy churche honest and devout, in
      plesaunce bothe of god and of the people. But now the leude
      for symonye is avaunced, and shendeth al holy churche. Now is
      steward, for his achates; now is courtiour, for his debates; now
      is eschetour, for his wronges; now is losel, for his songes, per_soner;
  50  and [hath his] provendre alone, with whiche manye
      thrifty shulde encrese. And yet is this shrewe behynde; free
      herte is forsake; and losengeour is take. Lo! it acordeth; for
      suche there ben that voluntarie lustes haunten in courte with
      ribaudye, that til midnight and more wol playe and wake, but in
  55  the churche at matins he is behynde, for yvel disposicion of his
      stomake; therfore he shulde ete bene-breed (and so did his
      syre) his estate ther-with to strengthen. His auter is broke, and
      lowe lyth, in poynte to gon to the erthe; but his hors muste ben
      esy and hye, to bere him over grete waters. His chalice poore,
  60  but he hath riche cuppes. No towayle but a shete, there god
      shal ben handled; and on his mete-borde there shal ben bord_clothes
      and towelles many payre. At masse serveth but a cler_gion;
      fyve squiers in hal. Poore chaunsel, open holes in every
      syde; beddes of silke, with tapites going al aboute his chambre.
  65  Poore masse-book and leud chapelayn, and broken surplice with
      many an hole; good houndes and many, to hunte after hart and
      hare, to fede in their feestes. Of poore men have they greet
      care; for they ever crave and nothing offren, they wolden have
      hem dolven! But among legistres there dar I not come; my
  70  doinge[s], they sayn, maken hem nedy. They ne wolde for
      nothing have me in town; for than were tort and force nought
      worth an hawe about, and plesen no men, but thilk grevous and
      torcious ben in might and in doing. These thinges to-forn-sayd
      mowe wel, if men liste, ryme; trewly, they acorde nothing. And
  75  for-as-moch as al thinges by me shulden of right ben governed,
      I am sory to see that governaunce fayleth, as thus: to sene smale
      and lowe governe the hye and bodies above. Certes, that
      policye is naught; it is forbode by them that of governaunce
      treten and enformen. And right as beestly wit shulde ben



|p52


  80  subject to reson, so erthly power in it-selfe, the lower shulde ben
      subject to the hygher. What is worth thy body, but it be
      governed with thy soule? Right so litel or naught is worth
      erthely power, but if reignatif prudence in heedes governe the
      smale; to whiche heedes the smale owen to obey and suffre in
  85  their governaunce. But soverainnesse ayenward shulde thinke in
      this wyse: "I am servaunt of these creatures to me delivered,
      not lord, but defendour; not mayster, but enfourmer; not
      possessour, but in possession; and to hem liche a tree in whiche
      sparowes shullen stelen, her birdes to norisshe and forth bringe,
  90  under suretee ayenst al raveynous foules and beestes, and not to
      be tyraunt them-selfe." And than the smale, in reste and quiete,
      by the heedes wel disposed, owen for their soveraynes helth and
      prosperit to pray, and in other doinges in maintenaunce therof
      performe, withouten other administracion in rule of any maner
  95  governaunce. And they wit have in hem, and grace to come to
      suche thinges, yet shulde they cese til their heedes them cleped,
      although profit and plesaunce shulde folowe. But trewly, other
      governaunce ne other medlinge ought they not to clayme, ne
      the heedes on hem to putte. Trewly, amonges cosinage dar
  100 I not come, but-if richesse be my mene; sothly, she and other
      bodily goodes maketh nigh cosinage, ther never propinquit ne
      alyaunce in lyve was ne shulde have be, nere it for her medling
      maners; wherfore kindly am I not ther leged. Povert of
      kinred is behynde; richesse suffreth him to passe; truly he saith,
  105 he com never of Japhetes childre. Whereof I am sory that
      Japhetes children, for povert, in no linage ben rekened, and
      Caynes children, for riches, be maked Japhetes heires. Alas! this
      is a wonder chaunge bitwene tho two Noes children, sithen that
      of Japhetes ofspring comeden knightes, and of Cayn discended
  110 the lyne of servage to his brothers childre. Lo! how gentillesse
      and servage, as cosins, bothe discended out of two brethern of
      one body! Wherfore I saye in sothnesse, that gentilesse in
      kinrede maketh not gentil linage in succession, without desert
      of a mans own selfe. Where is now the lyne of Alisaundre the
  115 noble, or els of Hector of Troye? Who is discended of right
      bloode of lyne fro king Artour? Pard, sir Perdicas, whom that



|p53


      Alisandre made to ben his heire in Grece, was of no kinges
      bloode; his dame was a tombestere. Of what kinred ben the
      gentiles in our dayes? I trow therfore, if any good be in gen_tilesse,
  120 it is only that it semeth a maner of necessit be input to
      gentilmen, that they shulden not varyen fro the vertues of their
      auncestres. Certes, al maner linage of men ben evenliche in
      birth; for oon fader, maker of al goodnes, enformed hem al,
      and al mortal folk of one sede arn greyned. Wherto avaunt men
  125 of her linage, in cosinage or in elde-faders? Loke now the gin_ning,
      and to god, maker of mans person; there is no clerk ne no
      worthy in gentilesse; and he that norissheth his corage with
      vyces and unresonable lustes, and leveth the kynde course, to
      whiche ende him brought forth his birthe, trewly, he is ungentil,
  130  and among cherles may ben nempned. And therfore, he that
      wol ben gentil, he mot daunten his flesshe fro vyces that causen
      ungentilnesse, and leve also reignes of wicked lustes, and drawe
      to him vertue, that in al places gentilnesse gentilmen maketh.
      And so speke I, in feminine gendre in general, of tho persones,
  135 at the reverence of one whom every wight honoureth; for her
      bountee and her noblesse y-made her to god so dere, that his
      moder she became; and she me hath had so greet in worship,
      that I nil for nothing in open declare, that in any thinge ayenst her
      secte may so wene. For al vertue and al worthinesse of plesaunce
  140 in hem haboundeth. And although I wolde any-thing speke,
      trewly I can not; I may fynde in yvel of hem no maner mater.'


                              CHAPTER III.

      |r<b> RIGHT with these wordes she stinte of that lamentable
         melodye; and I gan with a lyvely herte to praye, if that
      it were lyking unto her noble grace, she wolde her deyne to
      declare me the mater that firste was begonne, in which she lefte
   5  and stinte to speke beforn she gan to singe.
         `O,' quod she, `this is no newe thing to me, to sene you men
      desyren after mater, whiche your-selfe caused to voyde.'
         `Ah, good lady,' quod I, `in whom victorie of strength is proved
      above al other thing, after the jugement of Esdram, whos lordship



|p54


  10  al lignes: who is, that right as emperour hem commaundeth,
      whether thilke ben not women, in whos lyknesse to me ye aperen?
      For right as man halt the principalt of al thing under his be_inge,
      in the masculyne gender; and no mo genders ben there
      but masculyn and femenyne; al the remenaunt ben no gendres but
  15  of grace, in facultee of grammer: right so, in the femenyne, the
      women holden the upperest degree of al thinges under thilke
      gendre conteyned. Who bringeth forth kinges, whiche that ben
      lordes of see and of erthe; and al peoples of women ben born.
      They norisshe hem that graffen vynes; they maken men comfort
  20  in their gladde cheres. Her sorowe is deth to mannes herte.
      Without women, the being of men were impossible. They conne
      with their swetnesse the crewel herte ravisshe, and make it meke,
      buxom, and benigne, without violence mevinge. In beautee
      of their eyen, or els of other maner fetures, is al mens desyres;
  25  ye, more than in golde, precious stones, either any richesse.
      And in this degree, lady, your-selfe many hertes of men have
      so bounden, that parfit blisse in womankynde to ben men wenen,
      and in nothinge els. Also, lady, the goodnesse, the vertue of
      women, by propert of discrecion, is so wel knowen, by litelnesse
  30  of malice, that desyre to a good asker by no waye conne they
      warne. And ye thanne, that wol not passe the kynde werchinge
      of your sectes by general discrecion, I wot wel, ye wol so enclyne
      to my prayere, that grace of my requeste shal fully ben graunted.'
         `Certes,' quod she, `thus for the more parte fareth al mankynde,
  35  to praye and to crye after womans grace, and fayne many fan_tasyes
      to make hertes enclyne to your desyres. And whan these
      sely women, for freelt of their kynde, beleven your wordes, and
      wenen al be gospel the promise of your behestes, than graunt[en]
      they to you their hertes, and fulfillen your lustes, wherthrough
  40  their libert in maystreship that they toforn had is thralled; and
      so maked soverayn and to be prayed, that first was servaunt,
      and voice of prayer used. Anon as filled is your lust, many of you
      be so trewe, that litel hede take ye of suche kyndnesse; but
      with traysoun anon ye thinke hem begyle, and let light of that
  45  thing whiche firste ye maked to you wonders dere; so what
      thing to women it is to loven any wight er she him wel knowe,
      and have him proved in many halfe! For every glittring thing



|p55


      is nat gold; and under colour of fayre speche many vices may
      be hid and conseled. Therfore I rede no wight to trust on you
  50  to rathe; mens chere and her speche right gyleful is ful ofte.
      Wherfore without good assay, it is nat worth on many of you
      to truste. Trewly, it is right kyndely to every man that thinketh
      women betraye, and shewen outward al goodnesse, til he have
      his wil performed. Lo! the bird is begyled with the mery voice
  55  of the foulers whistel. Whan a woman is closed in your nette,
      than wol ye causes fynden, and bere unkyndenesse her on
      hande, or falset upon her putte, your owne malicious trayson
      with suche thinge to excuse. Lo! than han women non other
      wreche in vengeaunce, but blobiere and wepe til hem list stint,
  60  and sorily her mishap complayne; and is put in-to wening that
      al men ben so untrewe. How often have men chaunged her
      loves in a litel whyle, or els, for fayling their wil, in their places
      hem set! For fren[d]ship shal be oon, and fame with another
      him list for to have, and a thirde for delyt; or els were he lost
  65  bothe in packe and in clothes! Is this fair? Nay, god wot.
      I may nat telle, by thousande partes, the wronges in trechery
      of suche false people; for make they never so good a bond,
      al sette ye at a myte whan your hert tourneth. And they that
      wenen for sorowe of you deye, the pit of your false herte is flowe
  70  out of towne. Alas! therfore, that ever any woman wolde take
      any wight in her grace, til she knowe, at the ful, on whom she
      might at al assayes truste! Women con no more craft in queynt
      knowinge, to understande the false disceyvable conjectementes
      of mannes begylinges. Lo! how it fareth; though ye men
  75  gronen and cryen, certes, it is but disceyt; and that preveth wel
      by th'endes in your werkinge. How many women have ben
      lorn, and with shame foule shent by long-lastinge tyme, whiche
      thorow mennes gyle have ben disceyved? Ever their fame shal
      dure, and their dedes [ben] rad and songe in many londes; that
  80  they han don, recoveren shal they never; but alway ben demed
      lightly, in suche plyte a-yen shulde they falle. Of whiche slaunders
      and tenes ye false men and wicked ben the verey causes; on you
      by right ought these shames and these reproves al hoolly discende.



|p56


      Thus arn ye al nighe untrewe; for al your fayre speche, your
  85  herte is ful fickel. What cause han ye women to dispyse? Better
      fruite than they ben, ne swetter spyces to your belove, mowe ye
      not fynde, as far as worldly bodyes strecchen. Loke to their
      forminge, at the making of their persones by god in joye of
      paradyce! For goodnesse, of mans propre body were they
  90  maked, after the sawes of the bible, rehersing goddes wordes in
      this wyse: "It is good to mankynde that we make to him an
      helper." Lo! in paradyse, for your helpe, was this tree graffed,
      out of whiche al linage of man discendeth. If a man be noble
      frute, of noble frute it is sprongen; the blisse of paradyse, to
  95  mennes sory hertes, yet in this tree abydeth. O! noble helpes
      ben these trees, and gentil jewel to ben worshipped of every
      good creature! He that hem anoyeth doth his owne shame; it is
      a comfortable perle ayenst al tenes. Every company is mirthed
      by their present being. Trewly, I wiste never vertue, but a woman
  100 were therof the rote. What is heven the worse though Sarazins
      on it lyen? Is your fayth untrewe, though renegates maken
      theron lesinges? If the fyr doth any wight brenne, blame his
      owne wit that put him-selfe so far in the hete. Is not fyr gen_tillest
      and most comfortable element amonges al other? Fyr
  105 is cheef werker in fortheringe sustenaunce to mankynde. Shal
      fyr ben blamed for it brende a foole naturelly, by his own stulty
      witte in steringe? Al! wicked folkes! For your propre malice
      and shreudnesse of your-selfe, ye blame and dispyse the precious_[es]t
      thing of your kynde, and whiche thinges among other
  110 moste ye desyren! Trewly, Nero and his children ben shrewes,
      that dispysen so their dames. The wickednesse and gyling of
      men, in disclaundring of thilke that most hath hem glad[d]ed
      and plesed, were impossible to wryte or to nempne. Never-the_later
      yet I say, he that knoweth a way may it lightly passe; eke
  115 an herbe proved may safely to smertande sores ben layd. So
      I say, in him that is proved is nothing suche yvels to gesse.
      But these thinges have I rehersed, to warne you women al at
      ones, that to lightly, without good assaye, ye assenten not to
      mannes speche. The sonne in the day-light is to knowen from
  120 the moone that shyneth in the night. Now to thee thy-selfe



|p57


      (quod she) as I have ofte sayd, I knowe wel thyne herte; thou
      art noon of al the tofore-nempned people. For I knowe wel the
      continuaunce of thy service, that never sithen I sette thee
      a-werke, might thy Margaryte for plesaunce, frendship, ne fayrhede
  125 of none other, be in poynte moved from thyne herte; wherfore
      in-to myne housholde hastely I wol that thou entre, and al the
      parfit privit of my werking, make it be knowe in thy understond_ing,
      as oon of my privy familiers. Thou desyrest (quod she)
      fayn to here of tho thinges there I lefte?'
  130     `Ye, forsothe,' quod I, `that were to me a greet blisse.'
         `Now,' quod she, `for thou shalt not wene that womans con_dicions
      for fayre speche suche thing belongeth:--


                               CHAPTER IV.

      |r<b> THOU shalt,' quod she, `understonde first among al other
         thinges, that al the cure of my service to me in the parfit
      blisse in doing is desyred in every mannes herte, be he never
      so moche a wrecche; but every man travayleth by dyvers studye,
   5  and seke[th] thilke blisse by dyvers wayes. But al the endes
      are knit in selinesse of desyre in the parfit blisse, that is suche
      joye, whan men it have gotten, there leveth no thing more to
      ben coveyted. But how that desyre of suche perfeccion in
      my service be kindely set in lovers hertes, yet her erroneous
  10  opinions misturne it by falsenesse of wening. And although
      mannes understanding be misturned, to knowe whiche shuld ben
      the way unto my person, and whither it abydeth; yet wote they
      there is a love in every wight, [whiche] weneth by that thing that
      he coveyteth most, he shulde come to thilke love; and that
  15  is parfit blisse of my servauntes; but than fulle blisse may not
      be, and there lacke any thing of that blisse in any syde. Eke it
      foloweth than, that he that must have ful blisse lacke no blisse in
      love on no syde.'
         `Therfore, lady,' quod I tho, `thilke blisse I have desyred,
  20  and soghte toforn this my-selfe, by wayes of riches, of dignit,



|p58


      of power, and of renom, wening me in tho thinges had ben
      thilkeblisse; but ayenst the heer it turneth. Whan I supposed
      beste thilke blisse have getten, and come to the ful purpose
      of your service, sodaynly was I hindred, and throwen so fer
  25  abacke, that me thinketh an inpossible to come there I lefte.'
         `I wot wel,' quod she; `and therfore hast thou fayled; for
      thou wentest not by the hye way. A litel misgoing in the ginning
      causeth mikil errour in the ende; wherfore of thilke blisse thou
      fayledest, for having of richesse; ne non of the other thinges thou
  30  nempnedest mowen nat make suche parfit blisse in love as I shal
      shewe. Therfore they be nat worthy to thilke blisse; and yet
      somwhat must ben cause and way to thilke blisse. Ergo, there is
      som suche thing, and som way, but it is litel in usage and that
      is nat openly y-knowe. But what felest in thyne hert of the
  35  service, in whiche by me thou art entred? Wenest aught thy_selfe 
      yet be in the hye way to my blisse? I shal so shewe it to
      thee, thou shalt not conne saye the contrary.'
         `Good lady,' quod I, `altho I suppose it in my herte, yet
      wolde I here thyn wordes, how ye menen in this mater.'
  40     Quod she, `that I shal, with my good wil. Thilke blisse
      desyred, som-del ye knowen, altho it be nat parfitly. For kyndly
      entencion ledeth you therto, but in three maner livinges is al suche
      wayes shewed. Every wight in this world, to have this blisse, oon
      of thilke three wayes of lyves must procede; whiche, after opinions
  45  of grete clerkes, are by names cleped bestiallich, resonablich, [and
      manlich. Resonablich] is vertuous. Manlich is worldlich. Bestial_liche
      is lustes and delytable, nothing restrayned by bridel of reson.
      Al that joyeth and yeveth gladnesse to the hert, and it be ayenst
      reson, is lykened to bestial living, which thing foloweth lustes and
  50  delyies; wlierfore in suche thinge may nat that precious blisse,
      that is maister of al vertues, abyde. Your faders toforn you have
      cleped such lusty livinges after the flessh "passions of desyre,"
      which are innominable tofore god and man both. Than, after
      determinacion of suche wyse, we accorden that suche passions of
  55  desyre shul nat be nempned, but holden for absolute from al other
      livinges and provinges; and so leveth in t[w]o livinges, manlich



|p59


      and resonable, to declare the maters begonne. But to make thee
      fully have understanding in manlich livinges, whiche is holden
      worldlich in these thinges, so that ignorance be mad no letter,
  60  I wol (quod she) nempne these forsayd wayes by names and
      conclusions. First riches, aignit, renom, and power shul in
      this worke be cleped bodily goodes; for in hem hath ben, a gret
      throw, mannes trust of selinesse in love: as in riches, suffisance
      to have maintayned that was begonne by worldly catel; in dignit,
  65  honour and reverence of hem that wern underput by maistry
      therby to obeye. In renom, glorie of peoples praising, after
      lustes in their hert, without hede-taking to qualit and maner of
      doing; and in power, by trouth of lordships mayntenaunce, thing
      to procede forth in doing. In al whiche thinges a longe tyme
  70  mannes coveytise in commune hath ben greetly grounded, to come
      to the blisse of my service; but trewly, they were begyled, and for
      the principal muste nedes fayle, and in helping mowe nat availe.
      See why. For holdest him not poore that is nedy?'
         `Yes, pard,' quod I.
  75     `And him for dishonored, that moche folk deyne nat to
      reverence?'
         `That is soth,' quod I.
         `And what him, that his mightes faylen and mowe nat helpen?'
         `Certes,' quod I, `me semeth, of al men he shulde be holden
  80  a wrecche.'
         `And wenest nat,' quod she, `that he that is litel in renom,
      but rather is out of the praysinges of mo men than a fewe, be nat
      in shame?'
         `For soth,' quod I, `it is shame and villany, to him that
      coveyteth renom, that more folk nat prayse in name than preise.'
  85     `Soth,' quod she, `thou sayst soth; but al these thinges are
      folowed of suche maner doinge, and wenden in riches suffisaunce,
      in power might, in dignit worship, and in renom glorie; wherfore
      they discended in-to disceyvable wening, and in that service disceit
      is folowed. And thus, in general, thou and al suche other that so
  90  worchen, faylen of my blisse that ye long han desyred. Wherfore
      truly, in lyfe of reson is the hye way to this blisse; as I thinke
      more openly to declare herafter. Never-the-later yet, in a litel to
      comforte thy herte, in shewing of what waye thou art entred thy_selfe,



|p60


  95  and that thy Margarite may knowe thee set in the hye way,
      I wol enforme thee in this wyse. Thou hast fayled of thy first
      purpos, bicause thou wentest wronge and leftest the hye way on
      thy right syde, as thus: thou lokedest on worldly living, and that
      thing thee begyled; and lightly therfore, as a litel assay, thou
  100 songedest; but whan I turned thy purpos, and shewed thee
      a part of the hye waye, tho thou abode therin, and no deth ne
      ferdnesse of non enemy might thee out of thilk way reve; but
      ever oon in thyn herte, to come to the ilke blisse, whan thou
      were arested and firste tyme enprisoned, thou were loth to
  105 chaunge thy way, for in thy hert thou wendest to have ben there
      thou shuldest. And for I had routhe to sene thee miscaried,
      and wiste wel thyn ablenesse my service to forther and encrese,
      I com my-selfe, without other mene, to visit thy person in comfort
      of thy hert. And perdy, in my comming thou were greetly
  110 glad[d]ed; after whiche tyme no disese, no care, no tene, might
      move me out of thy hert. And yet am I glad and greetly enpited,
      how continually thou haddest me in mynde, with good avysement
      of thy conscience, whan thy king and his princes by huge wordes
      and grete loked after variaunce in thy speche; and ever thou
  115 were redy for my sake, in plesaunce of the Margarite-perle and
      many mo other, thy body to oblige in-to Marces doing, if any
      contraried thy sawes. Stedfast way maketh stedfast hert, with
      good hope in the ende. Trewly, I wol that thou it wel knowe;
      for I see thee so set, and not chaunginge herte haddest in my
  120 service; and I made thou haddest grace of thy kinge, in foryeve_nesse
      of mikel misdede. To the gracious king art thou mikel
      holden, of whos grace and goodnesse somtyme hereafter I thinke
      thee enforme, whan I shew the ground where-as moral vertue
      groweth. Who brought thee to werke? Who brought this grace
  125 aboute? Who made thy hert hardy? Trewly, it was I. For
      haddest thou of me fayled, than of this purpos had[dest thou]
      never taken [hede] in this wyse. And therfore I say, thou might
      wel truste to come to thy blisse, sithen thy ginninge hath ben hard,
      but ever graciously after thy hertes desyr hath proceded. Silver
  130  fyned with many hetes men knowen for trew; and safely men



|p61


      may trust to the alay in werkinge. This disese hath proved what
      way hence-forward thou thinkest to holde.'
         `Now, in good fayth, lady,' quod I tho, `I am now in; me
      semeth, it is the hye way and the right.'
  135   `Ye, forsothe,' quod she, `and now I wol disprove thy first
      wayes, by whiche many men wenen to gette thilke blisse. But
      for-as-moche as every herte that hath caught ful love, is tyed with
      queynt knittinges, thou shalt understande that love and thilke
      foresayd blisse toforn declared in this[e] provinges, shal hote the
  140 knot in the hert.'
         `Wel,' quod I, `this inpossession I wol wel understande.'
         `Now also,' quod she, `for the knotte in the herte muste ben
      from one to an-other, and I knowe thy desyr, I wol thou under_stande
      these maters to ben sayd of thy-selfe, in disproving of thy
  145 first service, and in strengthinge of thilke that thou hast undertake
      to thy Margaryte-perle.'
         `A goddes halfe,' quod I, `right wel I fele that al this case is
      possible and trewe; and therfore I admitte it altogither.'
  150    `Understand wel,' quod she, `these termes, and loke no con_tradiccion
      thou graunt.'
         `If god wol,' quod I, `of al these thinges wol I not fayle; and
      if I graunt contradiccion, I shulde graunte an impossible; and
      that were a foul inconvenience; for whiche thinges, lady, y-wis,
      herafter I thinke me to kepe.'


                             CHAPTER V.

      |r<b> `WEL,' quod she, `thou knowest that every thing is a cause,
          wherthrough any thing hath being that is cleped "caused."
      Than, if richesse causeth knot in herte, thilke richesse is cause
      of thilke precious thinge being. But after the sentence of
   5  Aristotle, every cause is more in dignit than his thinge caused;
      wherthrough it foloweth richesse to ben more in dignit than
      thilke knot. But richesses arn kyndely naughty, badde, and
      nedy; and thilke knotte is thing kyndely good, most praysed
      and desyred. Ergo, thing naughty, badde, and nedy in kyndely



|p62


  10  understandinge is more worthy than thing kyndely good, most
      desyred and praysed! The consequence is fals; nedes, the
      antecedent mot ben of the same condicion. But that richesses
      ben bad, naughty, and nedy, that wol I prove; wherfore they
      mowe cause no suche thing that is so glorious and good. The
  15  more richesse thou hast, the more nede hast thou of helpe hem
      to kepe. Ergo, thou nedest in richesse, whiche nede thou
      shuldest not have, if thou hem wantest. Than muste richesse
      ben nedy, that in their having maken thee nedy to helpes, in
      suretee thy richesse to kepen; wherthrough foloweth, richesse to
  20  ben nedy. Everything causinge yvels is badde and naughty; but
      richesse in one causen misese, in another they mowen not evenly
      strecchen al about. Wherof cometh plee, debat, thefte, begylinges,
      but richesse to winne; whiche thinges ben badde, and by richesse
      arn caused. Ergo, thilke richesse[s] ben badde; whiche badnesse
  25  and nede ben knit in-to richesse by a maner of kyndely propertee;
      and every cause and caused accorden; so that it foloweth, thilke
      richesse[s] to have the same accordaunce with badnesse ,and nede,
      that their cause asketh. Also, every thing hath his being by his
      cause; than, if the cause be distroyed, the being of caused is
  30  vanisshed. And, so. if richesse[s] causen love, and richesse[s]
      weren distroyed, the love shulde vanisshe; but thilke knotte, and
      it be trewe, may not vanisshe, for no going of richesse. Ergo,
      richesse is no cause of the knot. And many men, as I sayd,
      setten the cause of the knotte in richesse; thilke knitten the
  35  richesse, and nothing the yvel; thilke persons, what-ever they
      ben, wenen that riches is most worthy to be had; and that make
      they the cause; and so wene they thilke riches be letter than the
      person. Commenly, suche asken rather after the quantit than
      after the qualit; and suche wenen, as wel by hem-selfe as by
  40  other, that conjunccion of his lyfe and of his soule is no more
      precious, but in as mikel as he hath of richesse. Alas! how may
      he holden suche thinges.precious or noble, that neither han lyf ne
      soule, ne ordinaunce of werchinge limmes! Suche richesse[s]
      ben more worthy whan they ben in gadering; in departing,
  45  ginneth his love of other mennes praysing. And avarice gadering
      maketh be hated, and nedy to many out-helpes; and whan leveth
      the possession of such goodes, and they ginne vanissh, than



|p63


      entreth sorowe and tene in their hertes. O! badde and strayte
      ben thilke, that at their departinge maketh men teneful and sory,
  50  and in the gadering of hem make men nedy! Moche folk at
      ones mowen not togider moche therof have. A good gest gladdeth
      his hoste and al his meyny; but he is a badde gest that maketh
      his hoste nedy and to be aferd of his gestes going '
         `Certes,' quod I, `me wondreth therfore that the comune
  55  opinion is thus: "He is worth no more than that he hath in
      catel."'
         `O!' quod she, `loke thou be not of that opinion; for if gold or
      money, or other maner of riches shynen in thy sight, whos is that?
      Nat thyn. And tho[ugh] they have a litel beautee, they be nothing
  60  in comparison of our kynde; and therfore, ye shulde nat sette
      your worthinesse in thing lower than your-selfe. For the riches,
      the fairnesse, the worthinesse of thilke goodes, if ther be any
      suche preciousnesse in hem, are nat thyne; thou madest hem
      so never; from other they come to thee, and to other they shul
  65  from thee. Wherfore enbracest thou other wightes good, as
      tho[ugh] they were thyn? Kynde hath drawe hem by hem-selfe.
      It is sothe, the goodes of the erth ben ordayned in your fode
      and norisshinge; but if thou wolt holde thee apayd with that
      suffyseth to thy kynde, thou shalt nat be in daunger of no suche
  70  riches; to kynde suffyseth litel thing, who that taketh hede.
      And if thou wolt algates with superfluit of riches be a-throted,
      thou shalt hastelich be anoyed, or els yvel at ese. And fairnesse
      of feldes ne of habitacions, ne multitude of meyn, may nat be
      rekened as riches that are thyn owne. For if they be badde, it is
  75  greet sclaunder and villany to the occupyer; and if they be good
      or faire, the mater of the workman that hem made is to prayse.
      How shulde other-wyse bountee be compted for thyne? Thilke
      goodnesse and fairnesse be proper to tho thinges hem-selfe; than,
      if they be nat thyne, sorow nat whan they wende, ne glad thee
  80  nat in pompe and in pride whan thou hem hast. For their
      bountee and their beautees cometh out of their owne kynde, and
      nat of thyne owne person. As faire ben they in their not having
      as whan thou hast hem. They be nat faire for thou hast hem;
      but thou hast geten hem for the fairnesse of them-selfe. And
  85  there the vaylance of men is demed in richesse outforth, wenen



|p64


      me[n] to have no proper good in them-selfe, but seche it in
      straunge thinges. Trewly, the condicion of good wening is to
      thee mistourned, to wene, your noblesse be not in your-selfe, but
      in the goodes and beautee of other thinges. Pardy, the beestes
  90  that han but feling soules, have suffisaunce in their owne selfe;
      and ye, that ben lyke to god, seken encrese of suffisaunce from so
      excellent a kynde of so lowe thinges; ye do greet wrong to him
      that you made lordes over al erthly thinges; and ye putte your
      worthinesse under the nombre of the fete of lower thinges and
  95  foule. Whan ye juge thilke riches to be your worthinesse, than
      putte ye your-selfe, by estimacion, under thilke foule thinges;
      and than leve ye the knowing of your-selfe; so be ye viler than
      any dombe beest; that cometh of shrewde vice. Right so thilke
      persons that loven non yvel for dereworthinesse of the persone,
  100 but for straunge goodes, and saith, the adornement in the knot
      lyth in such thing; his errour is perilous and shrewd, and he
      wryeth moche venim with moche welth; and that knot may
      nat be good whan he hath it getten.
         Certes, thus hath riches with flickering sight anoyed many;
  105 and often, whan there is a throw-out shrewe, he coyneth al the
      gold, al the precious stones that mowen be founden, to have in
      his bandon; he weneth no wight be worthy to have suche thinges
      but he alone. How many hast thou knowe, now in late tyme,
      that in their richesse supposed suffisance have folowed, and now
  110 it is al fayled!'
         `Ye, lady,' quod I, `that is for mis medling; and otherwyse
      governed [they] thilke richesse than they shulde.'
         `Ye,' quod she tho, `had not the flood greetly areysed, and
      throwe to-hemward both gravel and sand, he had mad no med_linge.
  115 And right as see yeveth flood, so draweth see ebbe, and
      pulleth ayen under wawe al the firste out-throwe, but-if good pyles
      of noble governaunce in love, in wel-meninge maner, ben sadly
      grounded; the whiche holde thilke gravel as for a tyme, that
      ayen lightly mowe not it turne; and if the pyles ben trewe, the
  120 gravel and sand wol abyde. And certes, ful warning in love shalt
      thou never thorow hem get ne cover, that lightly with an ebbe, er



|p65


      thou be ware, it [ne] wol ayen meve. In richesse many men
      have had tenes and diseses, whiche they shulde not have had, if
      therof they had fayled. Thorow whiche, now declared, partly it is
  125 shewed, that for richesse shulde the knotte in herte neither ben
      caused in one ne in other; trewly, knotte may ben knit, and
      I trowe more stedfast, in love, though richesse fayled; and els,
      in richesse is the knotte, and not in herte. And than suche
      a knotte is fals; whan the see ebbeth and witdraweth the
  130 gravel, that such richesse voydeth, thilke knotte wol unknitte.
      Wherfore no trust, no way, no cause, no parfit being is in
      richesse, of no suche knotte. Therfore another way muste we
      have.


                           CHAPTER VI.

      |r<b> HONOUR in dignit is wened to yeven a ful knot.'
         `Ye, certes,' quod I, `and of that opinion ben many;
      for they sayn, dignit, with honour and reverence, causen hertes
      to encheynen, and so abled to be knit togither, for the excellence
   5  in soveraynt of such degrees.'
         `Now,' quod she, `if dignit, honour, and reverence causen
      thilke knotte in herte, this knot is good and profitable. For
      every cause of a cause is cause of thing caused. Than thus:
      good thinges and profitable ben by dignit, honour, and rever_ence
  10  caused. Ergo, they accorden; and dignites ben good with
      reverences and honour. But contraries mowen not accorden.
      Wherfore, by reson, there shulde no dignitee, no reverence, non
      honour acorde with shrewes. But that is fals; they have ben
      cause to shrewes in many shreudnes; for with hem they accorden.
  15  Ergo, from beginning to argue ayenward til it come to the laste
      conclusion, they are not cause of the knot. Lo, al day at eye arn
      shrewes not in reverence, in honour, and in dignit? Yes, for_sothe,
      rather than the good. Than foloweth it that shrewes
      rather than good shul ben cause of this knot. But of this [the]
  20  contrarie of al lovers is bileved, and for a sothe openly de_termined
      to holde.'



|p66


         `Now.' quod I, `fayn wolde I here, how suche dignitees acorden
      with shrewes.'
         `O,' quod she, `that wol I shewe in manifolde wyse. Ye wene
  25  (quod she) that dignites of office here in your cit is as the
      sonne; it shyneth bright withouten any cloude; [of] whiche thing,
      whan they comen in the handes of malicious tirauntes, there
      cometh moche harm, and more grevaunce therof than of the
      wilde fyre, though it brende al a strete. Certes, in dignit of
  30  office, the werkes of the occupyer shewen the malice and the
      badnesse in the person; with shrewes they maken manyfolde
      harmes, and moche people shamen. How often han rancours,
      for malice of the governour, shulde ben mainteyned? Hath not
      than suche dignitees caused debat, rumours, and yvels? Yes,
  35  god wot, by suche thinges have ben trusted to make mens under_standing
      enclyne to many queynte thinges. Thou wottest wel
      what I mene.'
         `Ye,' quod I, `therfore, as dignit suche thing in tene y-wrought,
      so ayenward, the substaunce in dignit chaunged, rebyed to bring
  40  ayen good plyte in doing.'
         `Do way, do way,' quod she; `if it so betyde, but that is
      selde, that suche dignit is betake in a good mannes governaunce,
      what thing is to recken in the dignitees goodnesse? Pard, the
      bountee and goodnesse is hers that usen it in good governaunce;
  45  and therfore cometh it that honour and reverence shulde ben
      don to dignit bycause of encresinge vertue in the occupyer,
      and not to the ruler bycause of soverayntee in dignit. Sithen
      dignit may no vertue cause, who is worthy worship for suche
      goodnesse? Not dignit, but person, that maketh goodnesse in
  50  dignit to shyne.'
         `This is wonder thing,' quod I; `for me thinketh, as the person
      in dignit is worthy honour for goodnesse, so, tho[ugh] a person
      for badnesse ma[u]gree hath deserved, yet the dignit leneth to
      be commended.'
  55     `Let be,' quod she, `thou errest rightt foule; dignit with
      badnesse is helper to performe the felonous doing. Pardy, were
      it kyndly good, or any propert of kyndly vertue [that men]
      hadden in hem-selfe, shrewes shulde hem never have; with hem
      shulde they never accorde. Water and fyr, that ben contrarious,



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  60  mowen nat togider ben assembled; kynde wol nat suffre suche
      contraries to joyne. And sithen at eye, by experience in doing,
      we seen that shrewes have hem more often than good men, siker
      mayst thou be, that kyndly good in suche thing is nat appropred.
      Pardy, were they kyndly good, as wel oon as other shulden
  65  evenlich in vertue of governaunce ben worthe; but oon fayleth in
      goodnesse, another doth the contrary; and so it sheweth, kyndly
      goodnesse in dignit nat be grounded. And this same reson
      (quod she) may be mad, in general, on al the bodily goodes;
      for they comen ofte to throw-out shrewes. After this, he is
  70  strong that hath might to have grete burthens, and he is light
      and swifte, that hath soveraint in ronning to passe other; right
      so he is a shrewe, on whom shreude thinges and badde han most
      werchinge. And right as philosophy maketh philosophers, and
      my service maketh lovers, right so, if dignites weren good or
  75  vertuous, they shulde maken shrewes good, and turne her malice,
      and make hem be vertuous. But that they do nat, as it is
      proved, but causen rancour and debat. Ergo, they be nat good,
      but utterly badde. Had Nero never ben Emperour, shulde
      never his dame have be slayn, to maken open the privit of his
  80  engendrure. Herodes, for his dignit, shew many children. The
      dignit of king John wolde have distroyed al England. Therfore
      mokel wysdom and goodnesse both, nedeth in a person, the
      malice in dignit slyly to brydel, and with a good bitte of arest
      to withdrawe, in case it wolde praunce otherwyse than it shulde.
  85  Trewly, ye yeve to dignites wrongful names in your cleping.
      They shulde hete, nat dignit, but moustre of badnesse and
      mayntenour of shrewes. Pardy, shyne the sonne never so bright,
      and it bringe forth no hete, ne sesonably the herbes out-bringe of
      the erthe, but suffre frostes and cold, and the erthe barayne to
  90  ligge by tyme of his compas in circute about, ye wolde wonder,
      and dispreyse that sonne! If the mone be at ful, and sheweth
      no light, but derke and dimme to your sight appereth, and make
      distruccion of the waters, wol ye nat suppose it be under cloude
      or in clips, and that som prevy thing, unknowen to your wittes,
  95  is cause of suche contrarious doinge? Than, if clerkes, that han
      ful insight and knowing of suche impedimentes, enforme you of



|p68


      the sothe, very idiottes ye ben, but-if ye yeven credence to thilk
      clerkes wordes. And yet it doth me tene, to sene many wrecches
      rejoycen in such maner planettes. Trewly, litel con[ne] they on
  100 philosophy, or els on my lore, that any desyr haven suche
      lightinge planettes in that wyse any more to shewe.'
         `Good lady,' quod I, `tel me how ye mene in these thinges.'
         `Lo,' quod she, `the dignites of your cit, sonne and mone,
      nothing in kynde shew their shyning as they shulde. For the
  105 sonne made no brenning hete in love, but freesed envye in
      mennes hertes, for feblenesse of shyning hete; and the moone
      was about, under an olde cloude, the livinges by waters to
      distroye.'
         `Lady,' quod I, `it is supposed they had shyned as they
  110 shulde.'
         `Ye,' quod she, `but now it is proved at the ful, their beaut in
      kyndly shyning fayled; wherfore dignit of him-selven hath no
      beautee in fayrnesse, ne dryveth nat awaye vices, but encreseth;
      and so be they no cause of the knotte. Now see, in good trouth;
  115 holde ye nat such sonnes worthy of no reverence, and dignites
      worthy of no worship, that maketh men to do the more harmes?'
         `I not,' quod I.
         `No?' quod she; `and thou see a wyse good man, for his
      goodnesse and wysnesse wolt thou nat do him worship? Therof
  120 he is worthy.'
         `That is good skil,' quod I; `it is dewe to suche, both rever_ence
      and worship to have.'
         `Than,' quod she, `a shrewe, for his shreudnesse, altho he be
      put forth toforn other for ferde, yet is he worthy, for shrewdnesse,
  125 `to be unworshipped; of reverence no part is he worthy to have,
      [that] to contrarious doing belongeth: and that is good skil.
      For, right as he besmyteth the dignites, thilke same thing ayen_ward
      him smyteth, or els shulde smyte. And over this thou wost
      wel (quod she) that fyr in every place heteth where it be, and
  130  water maketh wete. Why? For kyndely werking is so y-put in
      hem, to do suche thinges; for every kyndely in werking sheweth
      his kynde. But though a wight had ben mayre of your city
      many winter togider, and come in a straunge place there he were



|p69


      not knowen, he shulde for his dignit have no reverence. Than
  135 neither worshippe ne reverence is kyndely propre in no dignit,
      sithen they shulden don their kynde in suche doinge, if any were.
      And if reverence ne worshippe kyndely be not set in dignitees,
      and they more therein ben shewed than goodnesse, for that in
      dignit is shewed, but it proveth that goodnesse kyndely in hem
  140 is not grounded. I-wis, neither worshippe, ne reverence, ne good_nesse
      in dignit don non office of kynde; for they have non
      suche propertee in nature of doinge but by false opinion of the
      people. Lo! how somtyme thilke that in your city wern in
      dignit noble, if thou liste hem nempne, they ben now over_turned
  145 bothe in worship, in name, and in reverence; wherfore
      such dignites have no kyndly werching of worshippe and of
      reverence. He that hath no worthinesse on it-selfe, now it ryseth
      and now it vanissheth, after the variaunt opinion in false hertes
      of unstable people. Wherfore, if thou desyre the knotte of this
  150 jewel, or els if thou woldest suppose she shulde sette the knotte
      on thee for suche maner dignit, than thou wenest beautee or
      goodnesse of thilke somwhat encreseth the goodnesse or vertue in
      the body. But dignite[es] of hemself ben not good, ne yeven
      reverence ne worshippe by their owne kynde. How shulde they
  155 than yeve to any other a thing, that by no waye mowe they have
      hem-selfe? It is sene in dignit of the emperour and of many
      mo other, that they mowe not of hem-selve kepe their worshippe
      ne their reverence; that, in a litel whyle, it is now up and now
      downe, by unstedfaste hertes of the people. What bountee mowe
  160 they yeve that, with cloude, lightly leveth his shyninge? Certes,
      to the occupyer is mokel appeyred, sithen suche doinge doth
      villanye to him that may it not mayntayne. Wherfore thilke way
      to the knotte is croked; and if any desyre to come to the knot,
      be must leve this way on his lefte syde, or els shal he never come
  165 there.



|p70


                            CHAPTER VII.

      |r<b> AVAYLETH aught (quod she) power of might in maynten_aunce
         of [men, to maken hem] worthy to come to this
      knot?'
         `Pard,' quod I, `ye; for hertes ben ravisshed from suche
   5  maner thinges.'
         `Certes,' quod she, `though a fooles herte is with thing
      ravisshed, yet therfore is no general cause of the powers, ne of
      a siker parfit herte to be loked after. Was not Nero the moste
      shrewe oon of thilke that men rede, and yet had he power to
  10  make senatours justices, and princes of many landes? Was not
      that greet power?'
         `Yes, certes,' quod I.
         `Wel,' quod she, `yet might he not helpe him-selfe out of
      disese, whan he gan falle. How many ensamples canst thou
  15  remembre of kinges grete and noble, and huge power helden, and
      yet they might not kepe hem-selve from wrecchednesse? How
      wrecched was king Henry Curtmantil er he deyde? He had not
      so moche as to cover with his membres; and yet was he oon
      of the grettest kinges of al the Normandes ofspring, and moste
  20  possssion had. O! a noble thing and clere is power, that is not
      founden mighty to kepe him-selfe! Now, trewly a greet fole is
      he, that for suche thing wolde sette the knotte in thyne herte!
      Also power of realmes, is not thilke grettest power amonges the
      worldly powers reckened? And if suche powers han wrecched_nesse
  25  in hem-selfe, it foloweth other powers of febler ccndicion to
      ben wrecched; and than, that wrecchednesse shulde be cause of
      suche a knotte! But every wight that hath reson wot wel that
      wrecchednesse by no way may ben cause of none suche knotte;
      wherfore suche power is no cause. That powers have wrecched_nesse
  30  in hem-selfe, may right lightly ben preved. If power lacke on
      any syde, on that syde is no power; but no power is wrecched_nesse:
      for al-be-it so the power of emperours or kinges, or els
      of their realmes (which is the power of the prince) strecchen



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      wyde and brode, yet hesydes is ther mokel folk of whiche he
  35  hath no commaundement ne lordshippe; and there-as lacketh his
      power, his nonpower entreth, where-under springeth that maketh
      hem wrecches. No power is wrecchednesse and nothing els;
      but in this maner hath kinges more porcion of wrecchednesse
      than of power. Trewly, suche powers ben unmighty; for ever
  40  they ben in drede how thilke power from lesing may he keped
      of sorow; so drede sorily prikkes ever in their hertes: litel
      is that power whiche careth and ferdeth it-selfe to mayntayne.
      Unmighty is that wrecchednesse whiche is entred by the ferdful
      weninge of the wrecche him-selfe; and knot y-maked by wrecched_nesse
  45  is betwene wrecches; and wrecches al thing bewaylen;
      wherfore the knot shulde be bewayled; and there is no suche
      parfit blisse that we supposed at the ginning! Ergo, power in
      nothing shulde cause suche knottes. Wrecchednesse is a kyndely
      propertee in suche power, as by way of drede, whiche they mowe
  50  nat eschewe, ne by no way live in sikernesse. For thou wost wel
      (quod she) he is nought mighty that wolde don that he may not
      don ne perfourme.'
         `Therfore,' quod I, `these kinges and lordes that han suffi_saunce
      at the ful of men and other thinges, mowen wel ben
  55  holden mighty; their comaundementes ben don; it is nevermore
      denyed.'
         `Foole,' quod she, `or he wot him-selfe mighty, or wot it
      not; for he is nought mighty that is blynde of his might and wot
      it not.'
  60     `That is sothe,' quod I.
         `Than if he wot it, he must nedes ben a-drad to lesen it. He
      that wot of his might is in doute that he mote nedes lese; and so
      ledeth him drede to ben unmighty. And if he recche not to lese,
      litel is that worth that of the lesing reson reccheth nothing; and
  65  if it were mighty in power or in strength, the lesing shulde ben
      withset; and whan it cometh to the lesing, he may it not with_sitte.
      Ergo, thilke might is leude and naughty. Sucbi mightes
      arn y-byke to postes and piblers that upright stonden, and greet
      might han to bere many charges; and if they croke on any syde,
  70  litel thing maketh hem overthrowe.'
      `This is a good ensample,' quod I, `to pi!lers and postes that



|p72


      I have seeii overthrowed my-selfe; and hadden they ben under_put 
      with any helpes, they had not so lightly falbe.'
      `Than holdest thou him mighty that hath many men armed
  75  and many servauntes; and ever he is adrad of hem in his herte;
      and, for lie gasteth hem, somtyme he mot the more fere have.
      Comenly, he that other agasteth, other in him ayenward werclen
      the sanie; and thus warnisshed mot he be, and of warnisshe the
      hour drede. Litel is that might and right leude, who-so taketh
  80  hede.,
      `Than scineth it,' quod I, `that suche famulers aboute kinges
      and grete lordes shulde greet might have. Although a sypher in
      atigrim have no might in significacion of it-selve, yet he yeveth
      power in significacion to other; and these clepe I the helpes to
  85  a l,oste tokepe him from fabling.'
      `Certes,' quod she, `thilke skilles ben leude. Why ? But-if
      the shorers be wel grounded, the helpes shulden slyden and suffre
      the charge to falle; her might litel avayleth.'
      `And so me thinketh,' quod I, `that a poste alone, stonding
  90  upright upon a basse, may lenger in greet burthen endure than
      croken pibers for al their helpes, and her ground be not siker.'
      `Tb hat is sothe,' quod she; `for as, [if] the blynde in bering of
      the banie ginne stomble, bothe sbiulde falle, right so suche piblers,
      so envyroned with helpes, in falbing of the grounde fayleth al_togider.
  95  How ofte than suche famubers, in their moste pryde
      of prosperit, ben sodainly bverthrowen! Thou hast knowe
      many in a moment so ferre overthrowe, that cover might they
      never. Whan the hevinesse of suche fayling cometh by case of
      fortune, they mowe it not eschue; and might and power, if ther
  100 were any, shulde of strength such thinges voyde and weyve; and
      so it is not. Lo, than! whiche thing is this power, that, tho men
      han it, they ben agast; and in no tyme of ful having be they
      sikerl And if they wold weyve drede, as they mow not, litel is
      in worthines. Fye therfore on so naughty thing, any knot to
  105 causel Lo! in adversite, thilk ben his foes that glosed and
      semed frendes in welth; thus arn his famibiers his foes and his
      encmyes; and nothing is werse, ne more mighty for to anoy than
      is a familier enemy; and these thinges may they not weyve; so



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      trewly their might is not worth a cresse. And over al thinge, he
  110 that may not withdrawe the brydeb of his flesshly lustes and his i
      wrecched complayntes (now think on thy-selfe) trewly he is not
      mighty; I can seen no way that byth to the knotte. Thilke
      people than, that setten their hertes upon suche mightes and
      powers, often ben begyled. Pard, he is not mighty that may do
  115 any thing, that another may doon him the selve, and that men i
      have as greet power over him as he over other. A justice that
      demeth men ayenward hath ben often demed. Buserus slew his
      gestes, and he was slayn of Hercules his geste. Hugest betrays_shed
      many men, and of Collo was he betrayed. He that with
  120 swerde smyteth, with swerde shal be smitten.' i
      Than gan I to studyen a whyle on these thinges, and made
      a countenaunce with my hande in maner to ben huisht.
      `Now bet seen,' quod she, `me thinketh somwhat there is
      within thy soule, that troubleth thy understanding; saye on what
  125 it is.,
      Quod I tho, `me thinketh that, although a man by power have
      suche might over me, as I biave over another, that disproveth no
      might in my person; but yet may I have power and nmight never_the-later.'

  130  `See now,' quod she, `thyne owne leudenesse. He is mighty
      that inay without wrecchednesse; and he is unmighty that may it
      not withsitte; but than he, that might over thee, and he wol,
      putte on thee wrecchednesse, thou might it not withsitte. Ergo,
      thou seest thy-selfe what foloweth! But now (quod she) woldest
  135 thou not skorne, and thou see a flye han power to don harm to
      an-other flye, and thilke have no might ne ayenturning him-selfe
      to defende ? '
      `Yes, certes,' quod I
      `Who is a frayler thing,' quod she, `than the fleshly body of
  140 a man, over whiche have oftentyme flyes, and yet lasse thing than
      a flye, mokel might in grevaunce and anoying, withouten any
      withsittinge, for al thilke mannes mightes ? And sithen thou
      seest thyne flesshly body in kyndely power fayle, how shulde than
      the accident of a thinge ben in more surete of beinge than sub_stancial?
  145 Wherfore, thilke thinges that we clepe power is but i



|p74


      accident to the flesshly body; and so they may not have that
      suretee in might, whiche wanteth in the substancial body. Why
      there is no way to the knotte, [for him] that loketh aright after the
      hye way, as he shulde.


CHAPTER VIH.

      -V ERILY it is proved that richesse, dignit, and power ben not
      trewe way to the knotte, but as rathe by suche thinges the
      knotte to be u nbounde; wherfore on these thinges I rede no
      wight truste to gette any good knotte. But what shul we saye of
   5  renoinW in the peoples mouthes ? Shulde that ben any cause ?
      What supposest thou in thyn herte ? '
      `Certes,' quod I, `yes, I trowe; for your slye resons I dare not
      safely it saye.'
      `TI.han,' quod she, `wol I preve that shrewes as rathe shul ben
  10  in the knotte as the good; and that were ayenst kynde.'
      `Fayn,' quod I, `wolde I that here; me thinketh wonder how
      renom shuld as wel knitte a shrewe as a good person; renom
      in every degree hath avaunced; yet wist I never the contrarye.
      Shulde than renom accorde with a shrewe ? It may not sinke in
  15  my stomake til I here more.' .
      `Now,' quo d she, `haveI nosayd alwaye t hatshrewesh-ul
      not have the knotte ? '
      `What nedeth,' quod I, `to reherse that any more ? I wot wel
      every wight, by kyndely reson, shrewes in knitting wol eschewe.'
  20  `Than,' quod she, `the good ought thilke knotte to have.'
      `How els ? ' quod I.
      `It were greet harm,' quod she, `that the good were weyved
      and put out of espoire of the knotte, if he it desyred.'
      `O,' quod I, `alas! On suche thing to thinke, I wene that
  25  heven wepeth to see suche wronges here ben suffred on erthe; the
      good ought it to have, and no wight els.'
      `The goodnesse,' quod she, `of a person may not ben knowe
      outforth but by renom of the knowers; wherfore he must be
      renomed of goodnesse, to come to the knot.'
  30  `So must it be,' quod I, `or els al lost that we carpen.'



|p75


      `Sothly,' quod she, `that were greet harm, but-if a good man
      might have his desyres in service of thilke knot, and a shrewe to
      be weyved, and they ben not knowen in general but by backing
      and praysing, and in renom; and so by the consequence it
  35  foloweth, a shrewe to ben praysed and knit; and a good to be
      forsake and unknit.'
      `Al,' quod I tho, `have ye, lady, ben here abouten; yet wolde
      I see, by grace of our argumentes letter declared, how good and
      bad do acorden by backing and praysing; me thinketh it ayenst
  40  kynde.'
      `Nay,' quod she, `and that shalt thou see as yerne; these
      elementes han contrarious quabitees in kynde, by whiche they
      mowe not acorde no more than good and badde; and in [some]
      qualitees they acorde, so that contraries by qualit acorden by
  45  quabit. Is not erthe drye; and water, that is next and bitwene
      th'erthe, is wete ? Drye and wete ben contrarie, and mowen not
      acorde, and yet this discordaunce is bounde to acorde by cloudes;
      for bothe elementes ben colde. Right so the eyre, that is next
      the water, is wete; and eke it is hot. This eyre by his hete con_trarieth 
  50  water that is cold; but thilke contrariouste is oned by
      moysture; for bothe be they moyst. Also the fyr, that is next
      the eyre and it encloseth al about, is drye, wherthrough it
      contrarieth eyre, that is wete; and in hete they acorde; for
      bothe itheybenhot-ee Th-uslythese acordau.in ce-sdiscois rdantes
  55  ben joyned, and in a maner of acordaunce they acorden hy
      conneccion, that is, knitting togither; of that accorde cometh
      a maner of melodye that is right noble. Right so good and bad
      arn contrarie in doinges, by lacking and praysing; good is bothe
      lacked and praysed of some; and badde is bothe lacked and
  60  praysed of som e; wherfore their contiarioustee acorde bothe by
      backing and praysing. Than foloweth it, though good be never
      so mokel praysed, [it] oweth more to ben knit than the badde;
      or els bad, for the renom that he hath, must be taken as wel as
      the good; and that oweth not.'
  65  `No, forsothe,' quod I.
      `Wel,' quod she, `than is renom no way to the knot. Lo,
      foole,' quod she, `how clerkes wryten of suche glorie of renom: --



|p76


      "O glorie, glorie, thou art non other thing to thousandes of folke
      but a greet sweller of eeres!" Many oon hath had ful greet renom
  70  by false opinion of variaunt people. And what is fouler than
      folk wrongfully to ben praysed, or by malice of the people giltlesse
      lacked? Nedes shame foloweth therof to hem that with wrong
      prayseth, and also to the desertes praysed; and vilanye and
      reproof of him that disclaundreth.
  75     Good child (quod she) what echeth suche renom to the
      conscience of a wyse man, that loketh and mesureth his good_nesse,
      not by slevelesse wordes of the people, but by sothfastnesse
      of conscience? By god, nothing. And if it be fayr, a mans name
      be eched by moche folkes praysing, and fouler thing that mo folk
  80  not praysen? I sayd to thee a litel here-beforn, that no folk in
      straunge countreyes nought praysen; suche renom may not
      comen to their eeres, bycause of unknowing and other obstacles,
      as I sayde: wherfore more folk not praysen, and that is right foul
      to him that renom desyreth, to wete, lesse folk praisen than
  85  renom enhaunce. I trowe, the thank of a people is naught
      worth in remembraunce to take; ne it procedeth of no wyse
      jugement; never is it stedfast pardurable. It is veyne and fleing;
      with winde wasteth and encreseth. Trewly, suche glorie ought to
      be hated. If gentillesse be a cleer thing, renom and glorie to
  90  enhaunce, as in reckkening of thy linage, than is gentilesse of thy
      kinne; for-why it semeth that gentilesse of thy kinne is but
      praysing and renom that come of thyne auncestres desertes:
      and if so be that praysing and renom of their desertes make
      their clere gentillesse, than mote they nedes ben gentil for their
  95  gentil dedes, and not thou; for of thy-selfe cometh not such
      maner gentilesse, praysinge of thy desertes. Than gentillesse of
      thyne auncesters, that forayne is to thee, maketh thee not gentil,
      but ungentil and reproved, and-if thou continuest not their
      gentilesse. And therfore a wyse man ones sayde: "Better is it
  100 thy kinne to ben by thee gentyled, than thou to glorifye of thy
      kinnes gentilesse, and hast no desert therof thy-selfe."
         How passinge is the beautee of flesshly bodyes, more flittinge
      than movable floures of sommer! And if thyne eyen weren as good
      as the lynx, that may seen thorow many stone walles, bothe fayre



|p77


  105 and foule, in their entrayles, of no maner hewe shulde apere to
      thy sight; that were a foule sight. Than is fayrnesse by feblesse
      of eyen, but of no kynde; wherfore thilke shulde be no way to
      the knot; whan thilke is went, the knotte wendeth after. Lo,
      now, at al proves, none of al these thinges mowe parfitly ben in
  110 understanding, to ben way to the during blisse of the knotte.
      But now, to conclusion of these maters, herkeneth these wordes.
      Very sommer is knowe from the winter: in shorter cours draweth
      the dayes of Decembre than in the moneth of June; the springes
      of Maye faden and falowen in Octobre. These thinges ben not
  115 unbounden from their olde kynde; they have not lost her werke
      of their propre estat. Men, of voluntarious wil, withsitte that
      hevens governeth. Other thinges suffren thinges paciently to
      werche; man, in what estat he be, yet wolde he ben chaunged.
      Thus by queynt thinges blisse is desyred; and the fruit that
  120 cometh of these springes nis but anguis and bitter; al-though it
      be a whyle swete, it may not be with-holde; hastely they departe;
      thus al-day fayleth thinges that fooles wende. Right thus hast
      thou fayled in thy first wening. He that thinketh to sayle, and
      drawe after the course of the sterre de polo antartico, shal he never
  125 come northward to the contrarye sterre of polus articus; of whiche
      thinges if thou take kepe, thy first out-waye-going "prison" and
      "exile" may be cleped. The ground falsed underneth, and so
      hast thou fayled. No wight, I wene, blameth him that stinteth
      in misgoing, and secheth redy way of his blisse. Now me
  130  thinketh (quod she) that it suffyseth in my shewing; the wayes
      by dignet, richesse, renom, and power, if thou loke clerely, arn
      no wayes to the knotte.'


                              CHAPTER IX.

      |r<b> `EVERY argument, lady,' quod I tho, `that ye han maked in
         these fore-nempned maters, me thinketh hem in my ful
      witte conceyved; shal I no more, if god wil, in the contrarye be
      begyled. But fayn wolde I, and it were your wil, blisse of the
   5  knotte to me were declared. I might fele the better how my



|p78


      herte might assente, to pursue the ende in service, as he hath
      begonne.'
         `O,' quod she, `there is a melodye in heven, whiche clerkes
      clepen "armony"; but that is not in brekinge of voice, but it is
  10  a maner swete thing of kyndely werching, that causeth joye[s]
      out of nombre to recken, and that is joyned by reson and by
      wysdome in a quantit of proporcion of knitting. God made al
      thing in reson and in witte of proporcion of melody, we mowe not
      suffyse to shewe. It is written by grete clerkes and wyse, that,
  15  in erthly thinges, lightly by studye and by travayle the knowinge
      may be getten; but of suche hevenly melody, mokel travayle wol
      bringe out in knowing right litel. Swetenesse of this paradyse
      hath you ravisshed; it semeth ye slepten, rested from al other
      diseses; so kyndely is your herte therein y-grounded. Blisse of
  20  two hertes, in ful love knitte, may not aright ben imagined; ever
      is their contemplacion, in ful of thoughty studye to plesaunce,
      mater in bringinge comfort everiche to other. And therfore, of
      erthly thinges, mokel mater lightly cometh in your lerning.
      Knowledge of understonding, that is nigh after eye, but not so
  25  nigh the covetyse of knittinge in your hertes. More soverain
      desyr hath every wight in litel heringe of hevenly conninge than
      of mokel material purposes in erthe. Right so it is in propertee
      of my servauntes, that they ben more affiched in steringe of litel
      thinge in his desyr than of mokel other mater lasse in his
  30  conscience. This blisse is a maner of sowne delicious in
      a queynte voice touched, and no dinne of notes; there is non
      impression of breking labour. I can it not otherwyse nempne,
      for wantinge of privy wordes, but paradyse terrestre ful of delicious
      melody, withouten travayle in sown, perpetual service in ful joye
  35  coveyted to endure. Only kynde maketh hertes in understonding
      so to slepe, that otherwyse may it nat be nempned, ne in other
      maner names for lyking swetnesse can I nat it declare; al sugre
      and hony, al minstralsy and melody ben but soot and galle in
      comparison, by no maner proporcion to reken, in respect of this
  40  blisful joye. This armony, this melody, this perdurable joye may
      nat be in doinge but betwene hevens and elementes, or twey
      kyndly hertes ful knit in trouth of naturel understonding, withouten
      weninge and disceit; as hevens and planettes, whiche thinges



|p79


      continually, for kyndly accordaunces, foryeteth al contrarious
  45  mevinges, that in-to passive diseses may sowne; evermore it
      thirsteth after more werking. These thinges in proporcion be
      so wel joyned, that it undoth al thing whiche in-to badnesse by any
      way may be accompted.'
         `Certes,' quod I, `this is a thing precious and noble. Alas!
  50  that falsnesse ever, or wantrust shulde ever be maynteyned, this
      joye to voyde. Alas! that ever any wrecche shulde, thorow wrath
      or envy, janglinge dare make, to shove this melody so farre
      a-backe, that openly dar it nat ben used; trewly, wrecches ben
      fulfilled with envy and wrathe, and no wight els. Flebring
  55  and tales in suche wrecches dare appere openly in every wightes
      eere, with ful mouth so charged, [with] mokel malice moved
      many innocentes to shende; god wolde their soule therewith were
      strangled! Lo! trouth in this blisse is hid, and over-al under
      covert him hydeth; he dar not come a-place, for waytinge of
  60  shrewes. Commenly, badnesse goodnesse amaistreth; with my_selfe
      and my soule this joye wolde I bye, if the goodnesse were
      as moche as the nobley in melody.'
         `O,' quod she, `what goodnesse may be acompted more in
      this material worlde? Truly, non; that shalt thou understonde.
  65  Is nat every thing good that is contrariant and distroying yvel?'
         `How els? ' quod I.
         `Envy, wrathe, and falsnesse ben general,' quod she; `and
      that wot every man being in his right mynde; the knotte, the
      whiche we have in this blisse, is contrariaunt and distroyeth such
  70  maner yvels. Ergo, it is good. What hath caused any wight
      to don any good dede? Fynd me any good, but-if this knotte
      be the cheef cause. Nedes mot it be good, that causeth so
      many good dedes. Every cause is more and worthier than thing
      caused; and in that mores possession al thinges lesse ben
  75  compted. As the king is more than his people, and hath in
      possession al his realme after, right so the knot is more than
      al other goodes; thou might recken al thinges lasse; and that
      to him longeth, oweth in-to his mores cause of worship and of
      wil to turne; it is els rebel and out of his mores defending to
  80  voyde. Right so of every goodnesse; in-to the knotte and
      in-to the cause of his worship [it] oweth to tourne. And trewly,



|p80


      every thing that hath being profitably is good, but nothing hath
      to ben more profitably than this knot; kinges it mayntayneth,
      and hem, their powers to mayntayne. It maketh misse to ben
  85  amended with good governaunce in doing. It closeth hertes
      so togider, that rancour is out-thresten. Who that it lengest
      kepeth, lengest is glad[d]ed.'
         `I trowe,' quod I, `heretykes and misse-mening people hence_forward
      wol maintayne this knotte; for therthorough shul they
  90  ben maintayned, and utterly wol turne and leve their olde yvel
      understanding, and knitte this goodnesse, and profer so ferre
      in service, that name of servauntes might they have. Their
      jangles shal cese; me thinketh hem lacketh mater now to alege.'
         `Certes,' quod Iove, `if they, of good wil thus turned, as thou
  95  sayst, wolen trewly perfourme, yet shul they be abled party
      of this blisse to have; and they wol not, yet shul my servauntes
      the werre wel susteyne in myn helpe of maintenaunce to the ende.
      And they, for their good travayle, shullen in reward so ben meded,
      that endelesse joye body and soule to-gider in this shullen
  100 abyden. There is ever accion of blisse withouten possible
      corrupcion; there is accion perpetuel in werke without travayle;
      there is everlasting passife, withouten any of labour; continuel
      plyte, without cesinge coveyted to endure. No tonge may telle,
      ne herte may thinke the leest point of this blisse.'
  105   `God bring me thider! ' quod I than.
         `Continueth wel,' quod she, `to the ende, and thou might not
      fayle than; for though thou spede not here, yet shal the passion
      of thy martred lyfe ben written, and rad toforn the grete Jupiter,
      that god is of routhe, an high in the holownesse of heven, there
  110 he sit in his trone; and ever thou shalt forward ben holden
      amonge al these hevins for a knight, that mightest with no
      penaunce ben discomfited. He is a very martyr that, livingly
      goinge, is gnawen to the bones.'
         `Certes,' quod I, `these ben good wordes of comfort; a litel
  115 myne herte is rejoyced in a mery wyse.'
         `Ye,' quod she; `and he that is in heven felith more joye,
      than whan he firste herde therof speke.'
         `So it is,' quod I; `but wist I the sothe, that after disese
      comfort wolde folowe with blisse, so as ye have often declared,



|p81


  120 I wolde wel suffre this passion with the letter chere. But my
      thoughtful sorowe is endelesse, to thinke how I am cast out
      of a welfare; and yet dayneth not this yvel non herte, non hede,
      to meward throwe: which thinges wolde greetly me by wayes
      of comfort disporte, to weten in my-selfe a litel with other me[n]
  125 ben y-moved; and my sorowes peysen not in her balaunce the
      weyght of a peese. Slinges of her daunger so hevily peysen,
      they drawe my causes so hye, that in her eyen they semen but
      light and right litel.'
         `O! for,' quod she, `heven with skyes that foule cloudes
  130  maken and darke weders, with gret tempestes and huge,
      maketh the mery dayes with softe shyning sonnes. Also the
      yere with-draweth floures and beautee of herbes and of erth;
      the same yere maketh springes and jolit in Vere so to renovel
      with peinted coloures, that erthe semeth as gay as heven. Sees
  135 that blasteth and with wawes throweth shippes, of whiche the
      living creatures for greet peril for hem dreden; right so, the
      same sees maketh smothe waters and golden sayling, and com_forteth
      hem with noble haven that firste were so ferde. Hast
      thou not (quod she) lerned in thy youth, that Jupiter hath in
  140 his warderobe bothe garmentes of joye and of sorowe? What
      wost thou how soone he wol turne of the garment of care,
      and clothe thee in blisse? Pard, it is not ferre fro thee. Lo,
      an olde proverbe aleged by many wyse:-"Whan bale is greetest,
      than is bote a nye-bore." Wherof wilt thou dismaye? Hope
  145 wel and serve wel; and that shal thee save, with thy good bileve.'
         `Ye, ye,' quod I; `yet see I not by reson how this blisse
      is coming; I wot it is contingent; it may falle on other.'
         `O,' quod she, `I have mokel to done to clere thyne under_standing,
      and voyde these errours out of thy mynde. I wol
  150 prove it by reson, thy wo may not alway enduren. Every thing
      kyndely (quod she) is governed and ruled by the hevenly bodyes,
      whiche haven ful werchinge here on erthe; and after course
      of these bodyes, al course of your doinges here ben governed
      and ruled by kynde.
  155   Thou wost wel, by cours of planettes al your dayes proceden;
      and to everich of singuler houres be enterchaunged stondmele



|p82


      about, by submitted worching naturally to suffre; of whiche
      changes cometh these transitory tymes that maketh revolving of
      your yeres thus stondmele; every hath ful might of worchinge,
  160 til al seven han had her course about. Of which worchinges and
      possession of houres the dayes of the weke have take her names,
      after denominacion in these seven planettes. Lo, your Sonday
      ginneth at the first hour after noon on the Saturday, in whiche
      hour is than the Sonne in ful might of worching; of whom Son_day
  165 taketh his name. Next him foloweth Venus, and after
      Mercurius, and than the Moone; so than Saturnus, after whom
      Jovis; and than Mars; and ayen than the Sonne; and so forth
      by .xxiiii. houres togider; in whiche hour ginning in the seconde
      day stant the Moone, as maister for that tyme to rule; of whom
  170 Monday taketh his name; and this course foloweth of al other
      dayes generally in doing. This course of nature of these bodyes
      chaunging stinten at a certain terme, limitted by their first kynde;
      and of hem al governementes in this elemented worlde proceden,
      as in springes, constellacions, engendrures, and al that folowen
  175 kynde and reson; wherfore [in] the course that foloweth, sorowe
      and joy kyndely moten entrechangen their tymes; so that
      alway oon wele, as alway oon wo, may not endure. Thus seest
      thou appertly, thy sorowe in-to wele mot ben chaunged; wherfore
      in suche case to better syde evermore enclyne thou shuldest.
  180 Trewly, next the ende ofsorowe anon entreth joy, by maner
      of necessit it wol ne may non other betyde; and so thy conti[n]_gence
      is disproved; if thou holde this opinion any more, thy
      wit is right leude. Wherfore, in ful conclusion of al this, thilke
      Margaryte thou desyrest hath ben to thee dere in thy herte, and
  185 for her hast thou suffred many thoughtful diseses; herafter shal
      [she] be cause of mokel mirth and joye; and loke how glad canst
      thou ben, and cese al thy passed hevinesse with manifolde
      joyes. And than wol I as blythly here thee speken thy mirthes
      in joye, as I now have y-herd thy sorowes and thy complayntes.
  190 And if I mowe in aught thy joye encrese, by my trouthe, on
      my syde shal nat be leved for no maner traveyle, that I with
      al my mightes right blythly wol helpe, and ever ben redy you
      bothe to plese.' And than thanked I that lady with al goodly



|p83


      maner that I worthily coude; and trewly I was greetly rejoysed
  195 in myne herte of her fayre behestes; and profered me to be
      slawe, in al that she me wolde ordeyne, while my lyf lested.


                              CHAPTER X.

      |r<b> `ME thinketh,' quod I, `that ye have right wel declared,
         that way to the knot shuld not ben in none of these
      disprovinge thinges; and now, order of our purpos this asketh,
      that ye shulde me shewe if any way be thider, and whiche
   5  thilke way shulde ben; so that openly may be seye the verry
      hye way in ful confusioun of these other thinges.'
         `Thou shalt,' quod she, `understande that [of] one of three
      lyves (as I first sayd) every creature of mankynde is sprongen,
      and so forth procedeth. These lyves ben thorow names departed
  10  in three maner of kyndes, as bestialliche, manliche, and resona_bliche;
      of whiche two ben used by flesshely body, and the thirde
      by his soule. "Bestial" among resonables is forboden in every
      lawe and every secte, bothe in Cristen and other; for every
      wight dispyseth hem that liveth by lustes and delytes, as him
  15  that is thral and bounden servaunt to thinges right foule; suche
      ben compted werse than men; he shal nat in their degree ben
      rekened, ne for suche one alowed. Heritykes, sayn they,chosen
      lyf bestial, that voluptuously liven; so that (as I first sayde to
      thee) in manly and resonable livinges our mater was to declare;
  20  but [by] "manly" lyfe, in living after flesshe, or els flesshly wayes
      to chese, may nat blisse in this knotte be conquered, as by reson
      it is proved. Wherfore by "resonable" lyfe he must nedes it
      have, sithe a way is to this knotte, but nat by the firste tway lyves;
      wherfore nedes mot it ben to the thirde; and for to live in flesshe,
  25  but nat after flessh, is more resonablich than manliche rekened
      by clerkes. Therfore how this way cometh in, I wol it blythely
      declare.
         See now (quod she) that these bodily goodes of manliche
      livinges yelden sorowfulle stoundes and smertande houres. Who_so
  30  wol remembre him to their endes, in their worchinges they



|p84


      ben thoughtful and sorie. Right as a bee that hath had his hony,
      anon at his flight beginneth to stinge; so thilke bodily goodes at
      the laste mote awaye, and than stinge they at her goinge, wher_through
      entreth and clene voydeth al blisse of this knot.'
  35     `Forsothe,' quod I, `me thinketh I am wel served, in shewing
      of these wordes. Although I hadde litel in respect among other
      grete and worthy, yet had I a fair parcel, as me thought, for the
      tyme, in forthering of my sustenaunce; whiche while it dured,
      I thought me havinge mokel hony to myne estat. I had richesse
  40  suffisauntly to weyve nede; I had dignit to be reverenced in
      worship. Power me thought that I had to kepe fro myne enemyes,
      and me semed to shyne in glorie of renom as manhood asketh
      in mene; for no wight in myne administracion coude non yvels
      ne trechery by sothe cause on me putte. Lady, your-selve
  45  weten wel, that of tho confederacies maked by my soverains
      I nas but a servaunt, and yet mokel mene folk wol fully ayenst
      reson thilke maters maynteyne, in whiche mayntenaunce [they]
      glorien them-selfe; and, as often ye haven sayd, therof ought
      nothing in yvel to be layd to me-wardes, sithen as repentaunt
  50  I am tourned, and no more I thinke, neither tho thinges ne
      none suche other to sustene, but utterly distroye, without med_linge
      maner, in al my mightes. How am I now cast out of al
      swetnesse of blisse, and mischevously [is] stongen my passed
      joy! Soroufully muste I bewayle, and live as a wrecche.
  55     Every of tho joyes is tourned in-to his contrary. For richesse,
      now have I povert; for dignit, now am I emprisoned; in
      stede of power, wrecchednesse I suffre; and for glorie of renom,
      I am now dispysed and foulich hated. Thus hath farn Fortune,
      that sodaynly am I overthrowen, and out of al welth dispoyled.
  60  Trewly, me thinketh this way in entree is right hard; god graunt
      me better grace er it be al passed; the other way, lady, me
      thought right swete.'
         `Now, certes,' quod Love, `me list for to chyde. What ayleth
      thy darke dulnesse? Wol it nat in clerenesse ben sharped?
  65  Have I nat by many resons to thee shewed, suche bodily goodes
      faylen to yeve blisse, their might so ferforth wol nat strecche?



|p85


      Shame (quod she) it is to say, thou lyest in thy wordes. Thou
      ne hast wist but right fewe that these bodily goodes had al atones;
      commenly they dwellen nat togider. He that plent hath in riches,
  70  of his kinne is ashamed; another of linage right noble and wel
      knowe, but povert him handleth; he were lever unknowe.
      Another hath these, but renom of peoples praysing may he nat
      have; overal he is hated and defamed of thinges right foule.
      Another is fair and semely, but dignit him fayleth; and he that
  75  hath dignit is croked or lame, or els misshapen and foully dis_pysed.
      Thus partable these goodes dwellen commenly; in one
      houshold ben they but silde. Lo! how wrecched is your truste
      on thing that wol nat accorde! Me thinketh, thou clepest thilke
      plyte thou were in "selinesse of fortune"; and thou sayest, for
  80  that the selinesse is departed, thou art a wrecch. Than foloweth
      this upon thy wordes; every soule resonable of man may nat dye;
      and if deth endeth selinesse and maketh wrecches, as nedes of
      fortune maketh it an ende. Than soules, after deth of the body,
      in wrecchednesse shulde liven. But we knowe many that han
  85  geten the blisse of heven after their deth. How than may this
      lyf maken men blisful, that whan it passeth it yeveth no wrecched_nesse,
      and many tymes blisse, if in this lyfe he con live as he
      shulde? And wolt thou acompt with Fortune, that now at [t]he
      first she hath don thee tene and sorowe? If thou loke to the
  90  maner of al glad thinges and sorouful, thou mayst nat nay it, that
      yet, and namely now, thou standest in noble plyte in a good
      ginning, with good forth-going herafter. And if thou wene to be
      a wrecch, for such welth is passed, why than art thou nat wel
      fortunate, for badde thinges and anguis wrecchednesse ben passed?
  95  Art thou now come first in-to the hostry of this lyfe, or els the
      both of this worlde? Art thou now a sodayn gest in-to this
      wrecched exile? Wenest there be any thing in this erthe stable?
      Is nat thy first arest passed, that brought thee in mortal sorowe?
      Ben these nat mortal thinges agon with ignorance of beestial wit,
  100 and hast receyved reson in knowing of vertue? What comfort is
      in thy herte, the knowinge sikerly in my service [to] be grounded?
      And wost thou nat wel, as I said, that deth maketh ende of al



|p86


      fortune? What than? Standest thou in noble plyte, litel hede
      or recking to take, if thou bet fortune passe dy[i]ng, or els that
  105 she fly whan her list, now by thy lyve? Pardy, a man hath
      nothing so leef as his lyf; and for to holde that, he doth al his
      cure and diligent traveyle. Than, say I, thou art blisful and
      fortunat sely, if thou knowe thy goodes that thou hast yet
      beleved, whiche nothing may doute that they ne ben more worthy
  110 than thy lyf?'
         `What is that?' quod I.
         `Good contemplacion,' quod she, `of wel-doing in vertue in tyme
      coming, bothe in plesaunce of me and of thy Margarit-peerle.
      Hastely thyn hert in ful blisse with her shal be esed. Therfore dis_may
  115 thee nat; Fortune, in hate grevously ayenst thy bodily person,
      ne yet to gret tempest hath she nat sent to thee, sithen the holding
      cables and ankers of thy lyfe holden by knitting so faste, that
      thou discomforte thee nought of tyme that is now, ne dispayre
      thee not of tyme to come, but yeven thee comfort in hope of
  120 weldoing, and of getting agayn the double of thy lesing, with
      encresing love of thy Margarite-perle therto! For this, hiderto,
      thou hast had al her ful daunger; and so thou might amende al
      that is misse and al defautes that somtyme thou diddest; and
      that now, in al thy tyme, to that ilke Margaryte in ful service of
  125 my lore thyne herte hath continued; wherfore she ought moche
      the rather enclyne fro her daungerous sete. These thinges ben
      yet knit by the holding anker in thy lyve, and holden mote they;
      to god I pray, al these thinges at ful ben perfourmed. For whyle
      this anker holdeth, I hope thou shalt safely escape; and [in a]
  130  whyle thy trewe-mening service aboute bringe, in dispyte of al
      false meners that thee of-newe haten; for [in] this trewe service
      thou art now entred.'
      `Certayn,' quod I, `among thinges I asked a question, whiche
      was the way to the knot. Trewly, lady, how-so it be I tempt you
  135 with questions and answers, in speking of my first service, I am
      now in ful purpos in the pricke of the herte, that thilke service
      was an enprisonment, and alway bad and naughty, in no maner
      to be desyred; ne that, in getting of the knot, may it nothing
      aveyle. A wyse gentil herte loketh after vertue, and none other



|p87


  140 bodily joyes alone. And bycause toforn this in tho wayes I was
      set, I wot wel my-selfe I have erred, and of the blisse fayled; and
      so out of my way hugely have I ronne.'
         `Certes,' quod she, `that is sothe; and there thou hast mis_went,
      eschewe the path from hens-forward, I rede. Wonder
  145 I trewly why the mortal folk of this worlde seche these ways out_forth;
      and it is preved in your-selfe. Lo, how ye ben confounded
      with errour and folly! The knowing of very cause and way is
      goodnesse and vertue. Is there any thing to thee more precious
      than thy-selfe? Thou shalt have in thy power that thou woldest
  150 never lese, and that in no way may be taken fro thee; and thilke
      thing is that is cause of this knot. And if deth mowe it nat reve
      more than an erthly creature, thilke thing than abydeth with thy_selfe
      soule. And so, our concbusion to make, suche a knot, thus
      getten, abydeth with this thinge and with the soule, as long as
  155 they laste. A soule dyeth never; vertu and goodnesse evermore
      with the soule endureth; and this knot is parfit blisse. Than
      this soule in this blisse endlesse shal enduren. Thus shul hertes
      of a trewe knot ben esed: thus shul their soules ben plesed: thus
      perpetually in joye shul they singe.'
  160    `In good trouth,' quod I , `here is a good beginning; yeve us
      more of this way.'
         Quod she, `I said to thee nat longe sithen, that resonable lyf
      was oon of three thinges: and it was proved to the soule.


                              CHAPTER XI.

      |r<b> EVERY soule of reson hath two thinges of stering lyf, oon in
         vertue, and another in the bodily workinge; and whan the
      soule is the maister over the body, than is a man maister of him_selfe.
      And a man, to be a maister over him-selfe, liveth in vertu and
   5  in goodnesse, and as reson of vertue techeth. So the soule and the
      body, worching vertue togider, liven resonable lyf, whiche clerkes
      clepen "felicit in living"; and therein is the hye way to this knot.
      These olde philosophers, that hadden no knowing of divine grace,
      of kyndly reson alone, wenden that of pure nature, withouten any



|p88


  10  helpe of grace, me might have y-shoned th'other livinges.
      Resonably have I lived; and for I thinke herafter, if god wol,
      and I have space, thilke grace after my leude knowing declare,
      I leve it as at this tyme. But, as I said, he that out-forth loketh
      after the wayes of this knot, [his] conning with whiche he shulde
  15  knowe the way in-forth, slepeth for the tyme. Wherfore he that
      wol this way knowe, must leve the loking after false wayes out_forth,
      and open the eyen of his conscience, and unclose his herte.
      Seest nat, he that hath trust in the bodily lyfe is so besy bodily
      woundes to anointe, in keping from smert (for al-out may they nat
  20  be heled), that of woundes in his true understanding he taketh no
      hede; the knowing evenforth slepeth so harde: but anon, as in
      knowing awake, than ginneth the prevy medicynes, for heling of
      his trewe intent, inwardes lightly helen conscience, if it be wel
      handled. Than must nedes these wayes come out of the soule
  25  by stering lyfe of the body; and els may no man come to parfit
      blisse of this knotte. And thus, by this waye, he shal come to the
      knotte, and to the parfit selinesse that he wende have had in
      bodi ly goodes outforth.'
         `Ye,' quod I, `shal he have both knot, riches, power, dignit,
  30  and renom in this maner way?'
         `Ye,' quod she, `that shal I shewe thee. Is he nat riche that
      hath suffisaunce, and hath the power that no man may amaistrien?
      Is nat greet dignit to have worship and reverence? And hath
      he nat glorie of renom, whos name perpetual is during, and out
  35  of nombre in comparacion?'
         `These be thinges that men wenen to getten outforth,' quod I.
         `Ye,' quod she; `they that loken after a thing that nought is
      therof, in al ne in partie, longe mowe they gapen after!'
         `That is sothe,' quod I.
  40     `Therfore,' quod she, `they that sechen gold in grene trees, and
      wene to gader precious stones among vynes, and layn her nettes
      in mountains to fisshe, and thinken to hunte in depe sees after
      hart and hynd, and sechen in erth thilke thinges that surmounteth
      heven, what may I of hem say, but folisshe ignoraunce misledeth
  45  wandring wrecches by uncouth wayes that shulden be forleten,
      and maketh hem blynde fro the right pathe of trewe way that



|p89


      shulde ben used? Therfore, in general, errour in mankynde
      departeth thilke goodes by mis-seching, whiche he shulde have
      hole, and he sought by reson. Thus goth he begyled of that he
  50  sought; in his hode men have blowe a jape.'
         `Now,' quod I, `if a man be vertuous, and al in vertue liveth,
      how hath he al these thinges?'
         `That shal I proven,' quod she. `What power hath any man
      to lette another of living in vertue? For prisonment, or any
  55  other disese, [if] he take it paciently, discomfiteth he nat; the
      tyrant over his soule no power may have. Than hath that man,
      so tourmented, suche power, that he nil be discomfit; ne over_come
      may he nat ben, sithen pacience in his soule overcometh,
      and is nat overcomen, Suche thing that may nat be a-maistred,
  60  he hath nede to nothing; for he hath suffisaunce y-now, to helpe
      him-selfe. And thilke thing that thus hath power and suffisance,
      and no tyrant may it reve, and hath dignit to sette at nought al
      thinges, here it is a greet dignit, that deth may a-maistry, Wher_fore
      thilke power [with] suffisaunce, so enclosed with dignit, by
  65  al reson renom must have. This is thilke riches with suffisaunce
      ye sholde loke after; this is thilke worshipful dignit ye shulde
      coveyte; this is thilke power of might, in whiche ye shulde truste;
      this is the ilke renom of glorie that endlesse endureth; and al
      nis but substaunce in vertuous lyving,'
  70     `Certes,' quod I, `al this is sothe; and so I see wel that vertue
      with ful gripe encloseth al these thinges. Wherfore in sothe
      I may saye, by my trouth, vertue of my Margarite brought me
      first in-to your service, to have knitting with that jewel, nat sodain
      longinges ne folkes smale wordes, but only our conversacion
  75  togider; and than I, seinge th'entent of her trewe mening with
      florisshing vertue of pacience, that she used nothing in yvel, to
      quyte the wicked lesinges that false tonges ofte in her have laid,
      I have seye it my-selfe, goodly foryevenesse hath spronge out of
      her herte. Unit and accord, above al other thinges, she
  80  desyreth in a good meke maner; and suffereth many wicked
      tales.
         Trewly, lady, to you it were a gret worship, that suche thinges
      by due chastisment were amended.'



|p90


         `Ye, ' quod she, `I have thee excused; al suche thinges as yet
  85  mowe nat be redressed; thy Margarites vertue I commende wel
      the more, that paciently suche anoyes suffreth. David king was
      meke, and suffred mokel hate and many yvel speches; no despyt
      ne shame that his enemys him deden might nat move pacience
      out of his herte, but ever in one plyte mercy he used. Wherfore
  90  god him-selfe took reward to the thinges; and theron suche
      punisshment let falle. Trewly, by reson, it ought be ensample of
      drede to al maner peoples mirth. A man vengeable in wrath no
      governance in punisshment ought to have. Plato had a cause his
      servant to scourge, and yet cleped he his neibour to performe the
  95  doinge; him-selfe wolde nat, lest wrath had him a-maistred; and
      so might he have layd on to moche: evermore grounded vertue
      sheweth th'entent fro within. And trewly, I wot wel, for her good_nesse
      and vertue, thou hast desyred my service to her plesance
      wel the more; and thy-selfe therto fully hast profered.'
  100    `Good lady,' quod I, `is vertue the hye way to this knot that
      long we have y-handled?'
         `Ye, forsoth,' quod she, `and without vertue, goodly this knot
      may nat be goten.'
         `Ah! now I see,' quod I, `how vertu in me fayleth; and I, as
  105 a seer tree, without burjoning or frute, alwaye welke; and
      so I stonde in dispeyre of this noble knot; for vertue in me
      hath no maner workinge. Al wyde-where aboute have I
      traveyled!'
         `Pees,' quod she, `of thy first way; thy traveyle is in ydel;
  110 and, as touchinge the seconde way, I see wel thy meninge. Thou
      woldest conclude me, if thou coudest, bycause I brought thee
      to service; and every of my servantes I helpe to come to this
      blisse, as I sayd here-beforn. And thou saydest thy-selfe, thou
      mightest nat be holpen as thou wenest, bycause that vertue in
  115 thee fayleth; and this blisse parfitly without vertue may nat be
      goten; thou wenest of these wordes contradiccion to folowe.
      Pard, at the hardest, I have no servant but he be vertuous in
      dede and thought. I brought thee in my service, yet art thou
      nat my servant; but I say, thou might so werche in vertue her_after,
  120 that than shalt thou be my servant, and as for my servant



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      acompted. For habit maketh no monk; ne weringe of gilte
      spurres maketh no knight. Never-the-later, in confort of thyne
      herte, yet wol I otherwyse answere.'
            `Certes, lady,' quod I tho, `so ye muste nedes; or els I had
  125 nigh caught suche a cardiacle for sorowe, I wot it wel, I shulde
      it never have recovered. And therfore now I praye [thee] to
      enforme me in this; or els I holde me without recovery. I may
      nat long endure til this lesson be lerned, and of this mischeef the
      remedy knowen.'
  130     `Now,' quod she, `be nat wroth; for there is no man on-lyve
      that may come to a precious thing longe coveited, but he somtyme
      suffre teneful diseses: and wenest thy-selfe to ben unliche to al
      other? That may nat ben. And with the more sorowe that
      a thing is getten, the more he hath joye the ilke thing afterwardes
  135 to kepe; as it fareth by children in scole, that for lerninge arn
      beten, whan their lesson they foryetten. Commenly, after a good
      disciplyning with a yerde, they kepe right wel doctrine of their
      scole.'


                              CHAPTER XII.

      |r<b> RIGHT with these wordes, on this lady I threw up myne eyen,
         to see her countenaunce and her chere; and she, aperceyv_ing
      this fantasye in myne herte, gan her semblaunt goodly on me
      caste, and sayde in this wyse.
   5     `It is wel knowe, bothe to reson and experience in doinge,
      every active worcheth on his passive; and whan they ben togider,
      "active" and "passive" ben y-cleped by these philosophers. If
      fyr be in place chafinge thing able to be chafed or hete[d], and
      thilke thinges ben set in suche a distaunce that the oon may
  10  werche, the other shal suffre. Thilke Margarite thou desyrest is
      ful of vertue, and able to be active in goodnesse: but every herbe
      sheweth his vertue outforth from within. The sonne yeveth light,
      that thinges may be seye. Every fyr heteth thilke thing that it
      neigheth, and it be able to be hete[d]. Vertue of this Margarite



|p92


  15  outforth wercheth; and nothing is more able to suffre worching,
      or worke cacche of the actife, but passife of the same actife; and
      no passife, to vertues of this Margaryte, but thee, in al my Donet
      can I fynde! So that her vertue muste nedes on thee werche;
      in what place ever thou be, within distaunce of her worthinesse,
  20  as her very passife thou art closed. But vertue may thee nothing
      profyte, but thy desyr be perfourmed, and al thy sorowes cesed.
      Ergo, through werchinge of her vertue thou shalt esely ben
      holpen, and driven out of al care, and welcome to this longe by
      thee desyred!'
  25     `Lady,' quod I, `this is a good lesson in ginning of my joye;
      but wete ye wel, forsothe, though I suppose she have moche
      vertue, I wolde my spousaile were proved, and than may I live
      out of doute, and rejoice me greetly, in thinking of tho vertues
      so shewed.'
  30     `I herde thee saye,' quod she, `at my beginning, whan I receyved
      thee firste for to serve, that thy jewel, thilke Margaryte thou
      desyrest, was closed in a muskle with a blewe shel.'
         `Ye, forsothe,' quod I; `so I sayd; and so it is.'
         `Wel,' quod she, `every-thing kyndly sheweth it-selfe; this
  35  jewel, closed in a blewe shel, [by] excellence of coloures sheweth
      vertue from within; and so every wight shulde rather loke to the
      propre vertue of thinges than to his forayne goodes. If a thing
      be engendred of good mater, comenly and for the more part, it
      foloweth, after the congelement, vertue of the first mater (and
  40  it be not corrupt with vyces) to procede with encrees of good
      vertues; eke right so it fareth of badde. Trewly, greet excellence
      in vertue of linage, for the more part, discendeth by kynde to
      the succession in vertues to folowe. Wherfore I saye, the colour
      of every Margarit sheweth from within the fynesse in vertue.
  45  Kyndely heven, whan mery weder is a-lofte, apereth in mannes
      eye of coloure in blewe, stedfastnesse in pees betokening within
      and without. Margaryte is engendred by hevenly dewe, and
      sheweth in it-selfe, by fynenesse of colour, whether the engendrure
      were maked on morowe or on eve; thus sayth kynde of this
  50  perle. This precious Margaryte that thou servest, sheweth it-selfe
      discended, by nobley of vertue, from this hevenlich dewe, norisshed



|p93


      and congeled in mekenesse, that moder is of al vertues; and, by
      werkes that men seen withouten, the significacion of the coloures
      ben shewed, mercy and pitee in the herte, with pees to al other;
  55  and al this is y-closed in a muskle, who-so redily these vertues loken.
      Al thing that hath soule is reduced in-to good by mene thinges,
      as thus: In-to god man is reduced by soules resonable; and so
      forth beestes, or bodyes that mowe not moven, after place ben
      reduced in-to manne by beestes mene that moven from place to
  60  place. So that thilke bodyes that han felinge soules, and move
      not from places, holden the lowest degree of soulinge thinges in
      felinge; and suche ben reduced in-to man by menes. So it
      foloweth, the muskle, as moder of al vertues, halt the place of
      mekenesse, to his lowest degree discendeth downe of heven, and
  65  there, by a maner of virgine engendrure, arn these Margarytes
      engendred, and afterward congeled. Made not mekenesse so
      lowe the hye heven, to enclose and cacche out therof so noble
      a dewe, that after congelement, a Margaryte, with endelesse vertue
      and everlasting joy, was with ful vessel of grace yeven to every
  70  creature, that goodly wolde it receyve?'
         `Certes,' quod I, `these thinges ben right noble; I have er this
      herd these same sawes.'
         `Than,' quod she, `thou wost wel these thinges ben sothe?'
         `Ye, forsothe,' quod I, `at the ful.'
  75     `Now,' quod she, `that this Margaryte is ful of vertue, it is wel
      proved; wherfore som grace, som mercy, among other vertues,
      I wot right wel, on thee shal discende?'
         `Ye,' quod I; `yet wolde I have better declared, vertues in this
      Margarite kyndely to ben grounded.'
  80     `That shal I shew thee,' quod she, `and thou woldest it lerne.'
         `Lerne?' quod I, `what nedeth suche wordes? Wete ye nat
      wel, lady, your-selfe, that al my cure, al my diligence, and al my
      might, have turned by your counsayle, in plesaunce of that perle?
      Al my thought and al my studye, with your helpe, desyreth, in
  85  worshippe [of] thilke jewel, to encrese al my travayle and al my
      besinesse in your service, this Margaryte to gladde in some halve.
      Me were lever her honour, her plesaunce, and her good chere



|p94


      thorow me for to be mayntayned and kept, and I of suche thinge
      in her lykinge to be cause, than al the welthe of bodily goodes ye
  90  coude recken. And wolde never god but I putte my-selfe in
      greet jeopardy of al that I welde, (that is now no more but
      my lyf alone), rather than I shulde suffre thilke jewel in any
      pointe ben blemisshed; as ferre as I may suffre, and with my
      mightes strecche.'
  95     `Suche thing,' quod she, `may mokel further thy grace, and
      thee in my service avaunce. But now (quod Love) wilt thou
      graunte me thilke Margaryte to ben good?'
         `O! good god,' quod I, `why tempte ye me and tene with
      suche maner speche? I wolde graunt that, though I shulde anon
  100 dye; and, by my trouthe, fighte in the quarel, if any wight wolde
      countreplede.'
         `It is so moche the lighter,' quod Love, `to prove our entent.'
         `Ye,' quod I; `but yet wolde I here how ye wolde prove that
      she were good by resonable skil, that it mowe not ben denyed.
  105 For although I knowe, and so doth many other, manifold good_nesse
      and vertue in this Margaryte ben printed, yet some men
      there ben that no goodnesse speken; and, wherever your wordes
      ben herd and your resons ben shewed, suche yvel spekers, lady,
      by auctorit of your excellence, shullen be stopped and ashamed!
  110 And more, they that han non aquayntaunce in her persone, yet
      mowe they knowe her vertues, and ben the more enfourmed in
      what wyse they mowe sette their hertes, whan hem liste in-to your
      service any entree make. For trewly al this to beginne, I wot
      wel my-selfe that thilke jewel is so precious perle, as a womanly
  115 woman in her kynde; in whom of goodnesse, of vertue, and also
      of answeringe shappe of limmes, and fetures so wel in al pointes
      acording. nothing fayleth. I leve that kynde her made with greet
      studye; for kynde in her person nothing hath foryet[en], and that
      is wel sene. In every good wightes herte she hath grace of
  120 commending and of vertuous praysing. Alas! that ever kynde
      made her deedly! Save only in that, I wot wel, that Nature,
      in fourminge of her, in no-thinge hath erred.'



|p95


                             CHAPTER XIII.

      |r<b> `CERTES,' quod Love, `thou hast wel begonne; and I aske
         thee this question: Is not, in general, every-thing good?'
         `I not,' quod I.
         `No?' quod she; `saw not god everything that he made, and
   5  weren right good?'
         `Than is wonder,' quod I, `how yvel thinges comen a-place,
      sithen that al thinges weren right good.'
         `Thus,' quod she, `I wol declare. Everiche qualit and every
      accion, and every thing that hath any maner of beinge, it is of
  10  god; and god it made, of whom is al goodnesse and al being.
      Of him is no badnesse. Badde to be, is naught; good to be,
      is somwhat; and therfore good and being is oon in under_standing.'

          `How may this be?' quod I. `For often han shrewes me
  15  assailed, and mokel badnesse therin have I founden; and so me
      semeth bad to be somwhat in kynde.'
         `Thou shalt,' quod she, `understande that suche maner badnesse,
      whiche is used to purifye wrong doers, is somwhat; and god it
      made, and being [it] hath; and that is good. Other badnesse no
  20  being hath utterly; it is in the negative of somwhat, and that is
      naught and nothing being. The parties essential of being arn
      sayd in double wyse, as that it is; and these parties ben founde
      in every creature. For al thing, a this halfe the first being, is
      being through participacion, taking partie of being; so that [in]
  25  every creature is difference bitwene being of him through whom
      it is, and his own being. Right as every good is a maner of
      being, so is it good thorow being; for it is naught other to be.
      And every thing, though it be good, is not of him-selfe good;
      but it is good by that it is ordinable to the greet goodnesse.
  30  This dualit, after clerkes determinison, is founden in every
      creature, be it never so single of onhed.'
         `Ye,' quod I; `but there-as it is y-sayd that god saw every_thing
      of his making, and [they] were right good (as your-selfe
      sayd to me not longe tyme sithen), I aske whether every creature



|p96


  35  is y-sayd "good" through goodnesse unfourmed eyther els fourmed;
      and afterward, if it be accept utterly good?'
         `I shal say thee,' quod she. `These grete passed clerkes han
      devyded good in-to good being alone, and that is nothing but
      god, for nothing is good in that wyse but god: also, in good by
  40  participacion, and that is y-cleped "good" for far fet and repre_sentative
      of godly goodnesse: And after this maner manyfold
      good is sayd, that is to saye, good in kynde, and good in gendre,
      and good of grace, and good of joy. Of good in kynde Austen
      sayth, "al that ben, ben good." But peraunter thou woldest
  45  wete, whether of hem-selfe it be good, or els of anothers goodnesse:
      for naturel goodnesse of every substaunce is nothing els than his
      substancial being, which is y-cleped "goodnesse" after comparison
      that he hath to his first goodnesse, so as it is inductatife by menes
      in-to the first goodnesse. Boece sheweth this thing at the ful, that
  50  this name "good" is, in general, name in kynde, as it is com_parisoned
      generally to his principal ende, which is god, knotte of
      al goodnesse. Every creature cryeth "god us made"; and so
      they han ful apeted to thilke god by affeccion such as to hem
      longeth; and in this wyse al thinges ben good of the gret god,
  55  which is good alone.'
         `This wonder thing,' quod I, `how ye have by many resons
      proved my first way to be errour and misgoing, and cause[d] of
      badnesse and feble meninge in the grounde ye aleged to be roted.
      Whence is it that suche badnesse hath springes, sithen al thinges
  60  thus in general ben good, and badnesse hath no being, as ye have
      declared? I wene, if al things ben good, I might than with the
      first way in that good have ended, and so by goodnesse have comen
      to blisse in your service desyred.'
         `Al thing,' quod she, `is good by being in participacion out of
  65  the firste goodnesse, whiche goodnesse is corrupt by badnesse
      and badde-mening maners. God hath [ordeyned] in good thinges,
      that they ben good by being, and not in yvel; for there is absence
      of rightful love. For badnesse is nothing but only yvel wil of the
      user, and through giltes of the doer; wherfore, at the ginninge of
  70  the worlde, every thing by him-selfe was good; and in universal
      they weren right good. An eye or a hand is fayrer and betterer



|p97


      in a body set, in his kyndely place, than from the body dissevered.
      Every thing in his kyndly place, being kyndly, good doth werche;
      and, out of that place voyded, it dissolveth and is defouled him_selve.
  75  Our noble god, in gliterande wyse, by armony this world
      ordeyned, as in purtreytures storied with colours medled, in
      whiche blacke and other derke colours commenden the golden
      and the asured paynture; every put in kyndely place, oon, besyde
      another, more for other glitereth. Right so litel fayr maketh
  80  right fayr more glorious; and right so, of goodnesse, and of other
      thinges in vertue. Wherfore other badde and not so good perles
      as this Margaryte that we han of this matier, yeven by the ayre
      litel goodnesse and litel vertue, [maken] right mokel goodnesse
      and vertue in thy Margaryte to ben proved, in shyning wyse to be
  85  founde and shewed. How shulde ever goodnesse of pees have
      ben knowe, but-if unpees somtyme reigne, and mokel yvel wrathe?
      How shulde mercy ben proved, and no trespas were, by due
      justificacion, to be punisshed? Therfore grace and goodnesse of
      a wight is founde; the sorouful hertes in good meninge to endure,
  90  ben comforted; unit and acord bitwene hertes knit in joye to
      abyde. What? wenest thou I rejoyce or els accompte him among
      my servauntes that pleseth Pallas in undoinge of Mercurye, al-be_it
      that to Pallas he be knit by tytle of lawe, not according to
      resonable conscience, and Mercurie in doinge have grace to ben
  95  suffered; or els him that weyveth the moone for fayrenesse of
      the eve-sterre? Lo! otherwhyle by nightes, light of the moone
      greetly comforteth in derke thoughtes and blynde. Understanding
      of love yeveth greet gladnesse. Who-so list not byleve, whan
      a sothe tale is shewed, a dewe and a deblys his name is entred.
  100 Wyse folk and worthy in gentillesse, bothe of vertue and of
      livinge, yeven ful credence in sothnesse of love with a good herte,
      there-as good evidence or experience in doinge sheweth not the
      contrarie. Thus mightest thou have ful preef in thy Margarytes
      goodnesse, by commendement of other jewels badnesse and
  105 yvelnesse in doing. Stoundemele diseses yeveth several houres
      in joye.'
         `Now, by my trouthe,' quod I, `this is wel declared, that my



|p98


      Margaryte is good; for sithen other ben good, and she passeth
      manye other in goodnesse and vertue; wherthrough, by maner
  110 necessarie, she muste be good. And goodnesse of this Margaryte
      is nothing els but vertue; wherfore she is vertuous; and if there
      fayled any vertue in any syde, there were lacke of vertue. Badde
      nothing els is, ne may be, but lacke and want of good and good_nesse;
      and so shulde she have that same lacke, that is to saye,
  115 badde; and that may not be. For she is good; and that is good,
      me thinketh, al good; and so, by consequence, me semeth, vertuous,
      and no lacke of vertue to have. But the sonne is not knowe but
      he shyne; ne vertuous herbes, but they have her kynde werchinge;
      ne vertue, but it streccche in goodnesse or profyt to another, is no
  120 vertue. Than, by al wayes of reson, sithen mercy and pitee ben
      moste commended among other vertues, and they might never ben
      shewed, [unto] refresshement of helpe and of comfort, but now
      at my moste nede; and that is the kynde werkinge of these
      vertues: trewly, I wene, I shal not varye from these helpes. Fyr,
  125 and if he yeve non hete, for fyre is not demed. The sonne, but
      he shyne, for sonne is not accompted. Water, but it wete, the
      name shal ben chaunged. Vertue, but it werche, of goodnesse
      doth it fayle; and in-to his contrarie the name shal ben reversed.
      And these ben impossible; wherfore the contradictorie, that is
  130  necessarye, nedes muste I leve.'
         `Certes,' quod she, `in thy person and out of thy mouthe these
      wordes lyen wel to ben said, and in thyne understanding to be
      leved, as in entent of this Margaryte alone. And here now my
      speche in conclusion of these wordes.


                            CHAPTER XIV.

      |r<b> IN these thinges,' quod she, `that me list now to shewe
         openly, shal be founde the mater of thy sicknesse, and
      what shal ben the medicyn that may be thy sorowes lisse and
      comfort, as wel thee as al other that amisse have erred and out of
   5  the way walked, so that any drope of good wil in amendement
      [may] ben dwelled in their hertes. Proverbes of Salomon openly
      techeth, how somtyme an innocent walkid by the way in blynd_nesse



|p99


      of a derke night; whom mette a woman (if it be leefly to
      saye) as a strumpet arayed, redily purveyed in turninge of
  10  thoughtes with veyne janglinges, and of rest inpacient, by dis_simulacion
      of my termes, saying in this wyse: "Com, and be we
      dronken of our swete pappes; use we coveiious collinges." And
      thus drawen was this innocent, as an oxe to the larder.'
         `Lady,' quod I, `to me this is a queynte thing to understande;
  15  I praye you, of this parable declare me the entent.'
         `This innocent,' quod she, `is a scoler lerninge of my lore, in
      seching of my blisse, in whiche thinge the day of his thought
      turning enclyneth in-to eve; and the sonne, of very light faylinge,
      maketh derke night in his conninge. Thus in derknesse of many
  20  doutes he walketh, and for blyndenesse of understandinge, he ne
      wot in what waye he is in; forsothe, suche oon may lightly ben
      begyled. To whom cam love fayned, not clothed of my livery,
      but [of] unlefful lusty habit, with softe speche and mery; and
      with fayre honyed wordes heretykes and mis-meninge people
  25  skleren and wimplen their errours. Austen witnesseth of an
      heretyk, that in his first beginninge he was a man right expert
      in resons and swete in his wordes; and the werkes miscorden.
      Thus fareth fayned love in her firste werchinges. Thou knowest
      these thinges for trewe; thou hast hem proved by experience
  30  somtyme, in doing to thyne owne person; in whiche thing thou hast
      founde mater of mokel disese. Was not fayned love redily
      purveyed, thy wittes to cacche and tourne thy good thoughtes?
      Trewly, she hath wounded the conscience of many with florissh_inge
      of mokel jangling wordes; and good worthe thanked I it for
  35  no glose. I am glad of my prudence thou hast so manly her
      weyved. To me art thou moche holden, that in thy kynde
      course of good mening I returne thy mynde. I trowe, ne had
      I shewed thee thy Margaryte, thou haddest never returned. Of
      first in good parfit joye was ever fayned love impacient, as the
  40  water of Siloe, whiche evermore floweth with stilnesse and privy
      noyse til it come nighe the brinke, and than ginneth it so out of
      mesure to bolne, with novelleries of chaunging stormes, that in
      course of every renning it is in pointe to spille al his circuit of
      bankes. Thus fayned love prively, at the fullest of his flowinge,



|p100


  45  [ginneth] newe stormes [of] debat to arayse. And al-be-it that
      Mercurius [servants] often with hole understandinge knowen
      suche perillous maters, yet Veneriens so lusty ben and so leude
      in their wittes, that in suche thinges right litel or naught don
      they fele; and wryten and cryen to their felawes: "here is blisse,
  50  here is joye"; and thus in-to one same errour mokel folk they
      drawen. "Come," they sayen, "and be we dronken of our
      pappes"; that ben fallas and lying glose, of whiche mowe they not
      souke milke of helthe, but deedly venim and poyson, corrupcion
      of sorowe. Milke of fallas is venim of disceyt; milke of lying glose
  55  is venim of corrupcion. Lo! what thing cometh out of these
      pappes! "Use we coveited collinges"; desyre we and meddle we
      false wordes with sote, and sote with false! Trewly, this is the sori_nesse
      of fayned love; nedes, of these surfettes sicknesse muste
      folowe. Thus, as an oxe, to thy langoring deth were thou drawen;
  60  the sote of the smoke hath thee al defased. Ever the deper thou
      somtyme wadest, the soner thou it founde; if it had thee killed,
      it had be litel wonder. But on that other syde, my trewe
      servaunt[s] not faynen ne disceyve conne; sothly, their doinge
      is open; my foundement endureth, be the burthen never so
  65  greet; ever in one it lasteth. It yeveth lyf and blisful goodnesse
      in the laste endes, though the ginninges ben sharpe. Thus of
      two contraries. contrarye ben the effectes. And so thilke
      Margaryte thou servest shal seen thee, by her service out of
      perillous tribulacion delivered, bycause of her service in-to newe
  70  disese fallen, by hope of amendement in the laste ende, with joye
      to be gladded. Wherfore, of kynde pure, her mercy with grace
      of good helpe shal she graunte; and els I shal her so strayne,
      that with pit shal she ben amaystred. Remembre in thyne
      herte how horribly somtyme to thyne Margaryte thou trespasest,
  75  and in a grete wyse ayenst her thou forfeytest! Clepe ayen thy
      mynde, and know thyne owne giltes. What goodnesse, what
      bountee, with mokel folowing pit founde thou in that tyme?
      Were thou not goodly accepted in-to grace? By my pluckinge
      was she to foryevenesse enclyned. And after, I her styred to
  80  drawe thee to house; and yet wendest thou utterly for ever
      have ben refused. But wel thou wost, sithen that I in suche



|p101


      sharpe disese might so greetly avayle, what thinkest in thy wit?
      How fer may my wit strecche? And thou lache not on thy syde,
      I wol make the knotte. Certes, in thy good bering I wol acorde
  85  with the psauter: "I have founde David in my service true, and
      with holy oyle of pees and of rest, longe by him desyred, utterly
      he shal be anoynted." Truste wel to me, and I wol thee not
      fayle. The leving of the first way with good herte of continuance
      that I see in thee grounded, this purpose to parfourme, draweth
  90  me by maner of constrayning, that nedes muste I ben thyne helper.
      Although mirthe a whyle be taried, it shal come at suche seson,
      that thy thought shal ben joyed. And wolde never god, sithen
      thyne herte to my resons arn assented, and openly hast confessed
      thyne amisse-going, and now cryest after mercy, but-if mercy
  95  folowed; thy blisse shal ben redy, y-wis; thou ne wost how sone.
      Now be a good child, I rede. The kynde of vertues, in thy
      Margaryte rehersed, by strength of me in thy person shul werche.
      Comfort thee in this; for thou mayst not miscary.' And these
      wordes sayd, she streyght her on length, and rested a whyle.
      Thus endeth the seconde book, and here after foloweth
                          the thirde book.


                             BOOK III.

                             CHAPTER I.

      |r<b> OF nombre, sayn these clerkes, that it is naturel somme of
         discrete thinges, as in tellinge oon, two, three, and so forth;
      but among al nombres, three is determined for moste certayn.
      Wherfore in nombre certayn this werk of my besy leudenesse
   5  I thinke to ende and parfourme. Ensample by this worlde, in
      three tymes is devyded; of whiche the first is cleped Deviacion,
      that is to say, going out of trewe way; and al that tho dyeden, in
      helle were they punisshed for a man[ne]s sinne, til grace and mercy
      fette hem thence, and there ended the firste tyme. The seconde
  10  tyme lasteth from the comming of merciable grace until the ende
      of transitorie tyme, in whiche is shewed the true way in fordoinge
      of the badde; and that is y-cleped tyme of Grace. And that



|p102


      thing is not yeven by desert of yeldinge oon benefyt for another,
      but only through goodnesse of the yever of grace in thilke tyme.
  15  Who-so can wel understande is shapen to be saved in souled
      blisse. The thirde tyme shal ginne whan transitorie thinges of
      worldes han mad their ende; and that shal ben in Joye, glorie, and
      rest, both body and soule, that wel han deserved in the tyme of
      Grace. And thus in that heven togider shul they dwelle per_petuelly,
  20  without any imaginatyfe yvel in any halve. These
      tymes are figured by tho three dayes that our god was closed
      in erthe; and in the thirde aroos, shewing our resurreccion to
      joye and blisse of tho that it deserven, by his mercialle grace.
      So this leude book, in three maters, accordaunt to tho tymes,
  25  lightly by a good inseer may ben understonde; as in the firste,
      Errour of misse-goinge is shewed, with sorowful pyne punisshed,
      that cryed after mercy. In the seconde, is Grace in good waye
      proved, whiche is faylinge without desert, thilke first misse
      amendinge, in correccion of tho erroures, and even way to bringe,
  30  with comfort of welfare in-to amendement wexinge. And in the
      thirde, Joye and blisse graunted to him that wel can deserve it,
      and hath savour of understandinge in the tyme of grace. Thus
      in Joye, of my thirde boke, shal the mater be til it ende.
         But special cause I have in my herte to make this proces
  35  of a Margarit-perle, that is so precious a gemme whyt, clere and
      litel, of whiche stones or jewel[les] the tonges of us Englissh
      people tourneth the right names, and clepeth hem `Margery_perles';
      thus varieth our speche from many other langages. For
      trewly Latin, Frenche, and many mo other langages clepeth hem,
  40  Margery-perles, [by] the name `Margarites,' or `Margarite-perles';
      wherfore in that denominacion I wol me acorde to other mens
      tonges, in that name-cleping. These clerkes that treten of kyndes,
      and studien out the propertee there of thinges, sayn: the Mar_garite
      is a litel whyt perle, throughout holowe and rounde and
  45  vertuous; and on the see-sydes, in the more Britayne, in muskle_shelles,
      of the hevenly dewe, the best ben engendred; in whiche
      by experience ben founde three fayre vertues. Oon is, it yeveth
      comfort to the feling spirites in bodily persones of reson. Another



|p103


      is good; it is profitable helthe ayenst passions of sorie mens hertes.
  50  And the thirde, it is nedeful and noble in staunching ot bloode,
      there els to moche wolde out renne. To whiche perle and vertues
      me list to lyken at this tyme Philosophie, with her three speces,
      that is, natural, and moral, and resonable; of whiche thinges
      hereth what sayn these grete clerkes. Philosophie is knowing of
  55  devynly and manly thinges joyned with studie of good living;
      and this stant in two thinges, that is, conninge and opinion. Con_ninge
      is whan a thing by certayn reson is conceyved. But
      wrecches and fooles and leude men, many wil conceyve a thing
      and mayntayne it as for sothe, though reson be in the contrarye;
  60  wherfore conninge is a straunger. Opinion is whyl a thing is in
      non-certayn, and hid from mens very knowleging and by no parfit
      reson fully declared, as thus: if the sonne be so mokel as men
      wenen, or els if it be more than the erthe. For in sothnesse the
      certayn quantit of that planet is unknowen to erthly dwellers; and
  65  yet by opinion of some men it is holden for more than midle-erth.
         The first spece of philosophie is naturel; whiche in kyndely
      thinges treteth, and sheweth causes of heven, and strength of
      kyndely course; as by arsmetrike, geometry, musike, and by
      astronomye techeth wayes and cours of hevens, of planetes, and
  70  of sterres aboute heven and erthe, and other elementes.
         The seconde spece is moral, whiche, in order, of living maners
      techeth; and by reson proveth vertues of soule moste worthy in
      our living; whiche ben prudence, justice, temperaunce, and
      strength. Prudence is goodly wisdom in knowing of thinges.
  75  Strength voideth al adversitees aliche even. Temperunce dis_troyeth
      beestial living with esy bering. And Justice rightfully
      jugeth; and juging departeth to every wight that is his owne.
         The thirde spece turneth in-to reson of understanding; al
      thinges to be sayd soth and discussed; and that in two thinges is
  80  devyded. Oon is art, another is rethorike; in whiche two al
      lawes of mans reson ben grounded or els maintayned.
         And for this book is of LOVE, and therafter bereth his name,
      and philosophie and lawe muste here-to acorden by their clergial
      discripcions, as: philosophie for love of wisdom is declared, lawe
  85  for mainteynaunce of pees is holden: and these with love must
      nedes acorden; therfore of hem in this place have I touched.



|p104


      Ordre of homly thinges and honest maner of livinge in vertue,
      with righful jugement in causes and profitable administracion in
      comminaltees of realmes and citees, by evenhed profitably to
  90  raigne, nat by singuler avauntage ne by priv envy, ne by soleyn
      purpos in covetise of worship or of goodes, ben disposed in open
      rule shewed, by love, philosophy, and lawe, and yet love, toforn
      al other. Wherfore as sustern in unit they accorden, and oon
      endde, that is, pees and rest, they causen norisshinge; and in the
  95  joye maynteynen to endure.
         Now than, as I have declared: my book acordeth with dis_cripcion
      of three thinges; and the Margarit in vertue is lykened
      to Philosophy, with her three speces. In whiche maters ever
      twey ben acordaunt with bodily reson, and the thirde with the
  100 soule. But in conclusion of my boke and of this Margarite-perle
      in knittinge togider, Lawe by three sondrye maners shal be lykened:
      that is to saye, lawe, right, and custome, whiche I wol declare.
      Al that is lawe cometh of goddes ordinaunce, by kyndly worching;
      and thilke thinges ordayned by mannes wittes arn y-cleped right,
  105 which is ordayned by many maners and in constitucion written.
      But custome is a thing that is accepted for right or for lawe,
      there-as lawe and right faylen; and there is no difference, whether
      it come of scripture or of reson. Wherfore it sheweth, that lawe
      is kyndly governaunce; right cometh out of mannes probable
  110 reson; and custome is of commen usage by length of tyme
      used; and custome nat writte is usage; and if it be writte,
      constitucion it is y-written and y-cleped. But lawe of kynde is
      commen to every nation, as conjunccion of man and woman in
      love, succession of children in heritance, restitucion of thing
  115 by strength taken or lent; and this lawe among al other halt
      the soveraynest gree in worship; whiche lawe began at the
      beginning of resonable creature; it varied yet never for no
      chaunging of tyme. Cause, forsothe, in ordayning of lawe was to
      constrayne mens hardinesse in-to pees, and withdrawing his yvel
  120 wil, and turning malice in-to goodnesse; and that innocence
      sikerly, withouten teneful anoye, among shrewes safely might
      inhabite by proteccion of safe-conducte, so that the shrewes, harm



|p105


      for harme, by brydle of ferdnesse shulden restrayne. But for_sothe,
      in kyndely lawe, nothing is commended but such as goddes
  125 wil hath confirmed, ne nothing denyed but contrarioustee of
      goddes wil in heven. Eke than al lawes, or custome, or els
      constitucion by usage or wryting, that contraryen lawe of kynde,
      utterly ben repugnaunt and adversarie to our goddes wil of heven.
      Trewly, lawe of kynde for goddes own lusty wil is verily to
  130  mayntayne; under whiche lawe (and unworthy) bothe professe
      and reguler arn obediencer and bounden to this Margarite-perle
      as by knotte of loves statutes and stablisshment in kynde, whiche
      that goodly may not be withsetten. Lo! under this bonde am
      I constrayned to abyde; and man, under living lawe ruled, by that
  135 lawe oweth, after desertes, to ben rewarded by payne or by mede,
      but-if mercy weyve the payne. So than by part resonfully may
      be seye, that mercy bothe right and lawe passeth. Th' entent
      of al these maters is the lest clere understanding, to weten, at
      th'ende of this thirde boke; ful knowing, thorow goddes grace,
  140 I thinke to make neverthelater. Yet if these thinges han a good
      and a sleigh inseer, whiche that can souke hony of the harde
      stone, oyle of the drye rocke, [he] may lightly fele nobley of mater
      in my leude imaginacion closed. But for my book shal be of
      joye (as I sayd , and I [am] so fer set fro thilke place fro whens
  145 gladnesse shulde come; my corde is to short to lete my boket
      ought cacche of that water; and fewe men be abouten my corde
      to eche, and many in ful purpos ben redy it shorter to make, and
      to enclose th' entr, that my boket of joye nothing shulde cacche,
      but empty returne, my careful sorowes to encrese: (and if I dye
  150 for payne, that were gladnesse at their hertes): good lord, send
      me water in-to the cop of these mountayns, and I shal drinke
      therof, my thurstes to stanche, and sey, these be comfortable
      welles; in-to helth of goodnesse of my saviour am I holpen. And
      yet I saye more, the house ofjoye to me is nat opened. How
  155 dare my sorouful goost than in any mater of gladnesse thinken to
      trete? For ever sobbinges and complayntes be redy refrete in
      his meditacions, as werbles in manifolde stoundes comming about
      I not than. And therfore, what maner of joye coude [I] endyte?
      But yet at dore shal I knocke, if the key of David wolde the locke



|p106


  160 unshitte, and he bringe me in, whiche that childrens tonges both
      openeth and closeth; whos spirit where he wol wercheth,
      departing goodly as him lyketh.
         Now to goddes laude and reverence, profit of the reders,
      amendement of maners of the herers, encresing of worship among
  165 Loves servauntes, releving of my herte in-to grace of my jewel,
      and fren[d]ship [in] plesance of this perle, I am stered in this
      making, and for nothing els; and if any good thing to mennes
      lyking in this scripture be founde, thanketh the maister of grace,
      whiche that of that good and al other is authour and principal
  170 doer. And if any thing be insufficient or els mislyking, wyte
      that the leudnesse of myne unable conning: for body in disese
      anoyeth the understanding in soule. A disesely habitacion
      letteth the wittes [in] many thinges, and namely in sorowe. The
      custome never-the-later of Love, by long tyme of service, in
  175 termes I thinke to pursue, whiche ben lyvely to yeve under_standing
      in other thinges. But now, to enforme thee of this
      Margarites goodnesse, I may her not halfe preyse. Wherfore, nat
      she for my boke, but this book for her, is worthy to be commended,
      tho my book be leude; right as thinges nat for places, but places
  180 for thinges, ought to be desyred and praysed.


                              CHAPTER II.

      |r<b> `NOW,' quod Love, `trewly thy wordes I have wel under_stonde.
         Certes, me thinketh hem right good; and me
      wondreth why thou so lightly passest in the lawe.'
         `Sothly,' quod I, `my wit is leude, and I am right blynd, and
   5  that mater depe. How shulde I than have waded? Lightly
      might I have drenched, and spilte ther my-selfe.'
         `Ye,' quod she, `I shal helpe thee to swimme. For right as
      lawe punissheth brekers of preceptes and the contrary-doers of the
      written constitucions, right so ayenward lawe rewardeth and
  10  yeveth mede to hem that lawe strengthen. By one lawe this
      rebel is punisshed and this innocent is meded; the shrewe is
      enprisoned and this rightful is corowned. The same lawe that
      joyneth by wedlocke without forsaking, the same lawe yeveth



|p107


      lybel of departicion bycause of devorse both demed and
  15  declared.'
         `Ye, ye,' quod I, `I fynde in no lawe to mede and rewarde in
      goodnes the gilty of desertes.'
         `Fole,' quod she, `gilty, converted in your lawe, mikel merit
      deserveth. Also Pauly[n] of Rome was crowned, that by him the
  20  maynteyners of Pompeus weren knowen and distroyed; and yet
      toforn was this Paulyn cheef of Pompeus counsaile. This lawe
      in Rome hath yet his name of mesuring, in mede, the bewraying of
      the conspiracy, ordayned by tho senatours the deth. Julius Cesar
      is acompted in-to Catons rightwisnesse; for ever in trouth
  25  florissheth his name among the knowers of reson. Perdicas was
      crowned in the heritage of Alexander the grete, for tellinge of
      a prevy hate that king Porrus to Alexander hadde. Wherfore
      every wight, by reson of lawe, after his rightwysenesse apertely
      his mede may chalenge; and so thou, that maynteynest lawe of
  30  kynde, and therfore disese hast suffred in the lawe, reward is
      worthy to be rewarded and ordayned, and apertly thy mede
      might thou chalenge.'
         `Certes,' quod I, `this have I wel lerned; and ever hens_forward
      I shal drawe me therafter, in oonhed of wil to abyde, this
  35  lawe bothe maynteyne and kepe; and so hope I best entre in-to
      your grace, wel deservinge in-to worship of a wight, without
      nedeful compulsion, [that] ought medefully to be rewarded.'
         `Truly,' quod Love, `that is sothe; and tho[ugh], by consti_tucion,
      good service in-to profit and avantage strecche, utterly
  40  many men it demen to have more desert of mede than good wil
      nat compelled.'
         `See now,' quod I, `how many men holden of this the con_trary.
      And what is good service? Of you wolde I here this
      question declared.'
  45     `I shal say thee,' quod she,`in a fewe wordes:- resonable
      workinges in plesaunce and profit of thy soverayne.'
         `How shulde I this performe!' quod I.
         `Right wel,' quod she; `and here me now a litel. It is hardely
      (quod she) to understande, that right as mater by due over_chaunginges
  50  foloweth his perfeccion and his forme, right so every



|p108


      man, by rightful werkinges, ought to folowe the lefful desyres in
      his herte, and see toforn to what ende he deserveth. For many
      tymes he that loketh nat after th'endes, but utterly therof is
      unknowen, befalleth often many yvels to done, wherthrough, er he
  55  be war, shamefully he is confounded; th'ende[s] therof neden to
      be before loked. To every desirer of suche foresight in good
      service, three thinges specially nedeth to be rulers in his workes.
      First, that he do good; next, that he do [it] by eleccion in his
      owne herte; and the thirde, that he do godly, withouten any
  60  surquedry in thoughtes. That your werkes shulden be good, in
      service or in any other actes, authorits many may be aleged;
      neverthelater, by reson thus may it be shewed. Al your werkes
      he cleped seconde, and moven in vertue of the firste wercher,
      whiche in good workes wrought you to procede; and right so
  65  your werkes moven in-to vertue of the laste ende: and right in
      the first workinge were nat, no man shulde in the seconde werche.
      Right so, but ye feled to what ende, and seen their goodnes
      closed, ye shulde no more recche what ye wrought; but the
      ginning gan with good, and there shal it cese in the laste ende, if
  70  it be wel considred. Wherfore the middle, if other-wayes it drawe
      than accordant to the endes, there stinteth the course of good,
      and another maner course entreth; and so it is a partie by him_selve;
      and every part [that] be nat accordant to his al, is foul and
      ought to be eschewed. Wherfore every thing that is wrought
  75  and be nat good, is nat accordant to th'endes of his al hole; it is
      foul, and ought to be withdrawe. Thus the persons that neither
      don good ne harm shamen foule their making. Wherfore, without
      working of good actes in good service, may no man ben accepted.
      Truely, the ilke that han might to do good and doon it nat, the
  80  crowne of worship shal be take from hem, and with shame shul
      they be anulled; and so, to make oon werke acordant with his
      endes, every good servaunt, by reson of consequence, muste do
      good nedes. Certes, it suffiseth nat alone to do good, but goodly
      withal folowe; the thanke of goodnesse els in nought he
  85  deserveth. For right as al your being come from the greetest
      good, in whom al goodnesse is closed, right so your endes ben
      directe to the same good. Aristotel determineth that ende and
      good ben one, and convertible in understanding; and he that in



|p109


      wil doth awey good, and he that loketh nat to th'ende, loketh nat
  90  to good; but he that doth good and doth nat goodly, [and]
      draweth away the direction of th'ende nat goodly, must nedes
      be badde. Lo! badde is nothing els but absence or negative
      of good, as derkenesse is absence or negative of light. Than he
      that dooth [not] goodly, directeth thilke good in-to th'ende of
  95  badde; so muste thing nat good folowe: eke badnesse to suche
      folke ofte foloweth. Thus contrariaunt workers of th'ende
      that is good ben worthy the contrary of th'ende that is good
      to have.'
         `How,' quod I, `may any good dede be doon, but-if goodly it
  100 helpe?'
         `Yes,' quod Love, `the devil doth many good dedes, but
      goodly he leveth be-hynde; for ever badly and in disceyvable
      wyse he worketh; wherfore the contrary of th'ende him foloweth.
      And do he never so many good dedes, bicause goodly is away,
  105 his goodnes is nat rekened. Lo! than, tho[ugh] a man do good, i
      but he do goodly, th'ende in goodnesse wol nat folowe; and thus
      in good service both good dede and goodly doon musten joyne
      togider, and that it be doon with free choise in herte; and els
      deserveth he nat the merit in goodnes: that wol I prove. For
  110 if thou do any-thing good by chaunce or by happe, in what thing,
      art thou therof worthy to be commended? For nothing, by reson
      of that, turneth in-to thy praysing ne lacking. Lo! thilke thing
      doon by hap, by thy wil is nat caused; and therby shulde I
      thanke or lacke deserve? And sithen that fayleth, th'ende which
  115 that wel shulde rewarde, must ned[e]s faile. Clerkes sayn, no man
      but willinge is blessed; a good dede that he hath doon is nat
      doon of free choice willing; without whiche blissednesse may nat
      folowe. Ergo, neither thanke of goodnesse ne service [is] in that
      [that] is contrary of the good ende. So than, to good service
  120 longeth good dede goodly don, thorow free choice in herte.'
         `Truely,' quod I, `this have I wel understande.'
         `Wel,' quod she, `every thing thus doon sufficiently by lawe,
      that is cleped justice, [may] after-reward clayme. For lawe and
      justice was ordayned in this wyse, suche desertes in goodnesse,



|p110


  125 after quantit in doinge, by mede to rewarde; and of necessit of
      suche justice, that is to say, rightwysenesse, was free choice in
      deserving of wel or of yvel graunted to resonable creatures.
      Every man hath free arbitrement to chose, good or yvel to
      performe.'
  130     `Now,' quod I tho. `if I by my good wil deserve this Margarit_perle,
      and am nat therto compelled, and have free choice to do
      what me lyketh; she is than holden, as me thinketh, to rewarde
      th'entent of my good wil.'
         `Goddes forbode els,' quod Love; `no wight meneth other_wyse,
  135 I trowe; free wil of good herte after-mede deserveth.'
         `Hath every man,' quod I, `free choice by necessary maner of
      wil in every of his doinges that him lyketh, by goddes proper
      purvyaunce? I wolde see that wel declared to my leude under_standing;
      for "necessary" and "necessit" ben wordes of mokel
  140 entencion, closing (as to saye) so mote it be nedes, and otherwyse
      may it nat betyde.'
         `This shalt thou lerne,' quod she, `so thou take hede in my
      speche. If it were nat in mannes owne libert of free wil to do
      good or bad, but to the one teyed by bonde of goddes preordi_naunce,
  145 than, do he never so wel, it were by nedeful compulcion
      of thilk bonde, and nat by free choice, wherby nothing he
      desyreth: and do he never so yvel, it were nat man for to wyte,
      but onlich to him that suche thing ordayned him to done.
      Wherfore he ne ought for bad[de] be punisshed, ne for no good
  150 dede be rewarded; but of necessit of rightwisnesse was therfore
      free choice of arbitrement put in mans proper disposicion. Truely,
      if it were otherwyse, it contraried goddes charit, that badnesse
      and goodnesse rewardeth after desert of payne or of mede.'
         `Me thinketh this wonder,' quod I; `for god by necessit
  155 forwot al thinges coming, and so mote it nedes be; and thilke
      thinges that ben don by our free choice comen nothing of neces_sit
      but only by wil. How may this stonde togider? And so
      me thinketh truely, that free choice fully repugneth goddes
      forweting. Trewly, lady, me semeth, they mowe nat stande
  160 togider.'



|p111


                             CHAPTER III.

      |r<b> THAN gan Love nighe me nere, and with a noble counte_nance
         of visage and limmes, dressed her nigh my sitting_place.
      
         `Take forth,' quod she, `thy pen, and redily wryte these
   5  wordes. `For if god wol, I shal hem so enforme to thee that thy
      leudnesse which I have understande in that mater shal openly be
      clered, and thy sight in ful loking therin amended. First, if thou
      thinke that goddes prescience repugne libert of arbitrement, it is
      impossible that they shulde accorde in onheed of sothe to under_stonding.'
  10  
         `Ye,' quod I, `forsothe; so I it conceyve.'
         `Wel,' quod she, `if thilke impossible were away, the repug_naunce
      that semeth to be therin were utterly removed.'
         `Shewe me the absence of that impossibilit,' quod I.
  15     `So,' quod she, `I shal. Now I suppose that they mowe
      stande togider: prescience of god, whom foloweth necessit of
      thinges comming, and libert of arbitrement, thorow whiche thou
      belevest many thinges to be without necessit.'
         `Bothe these proporcions be sothe,' quod I, `and wel mowe
  20  stande togider; wherfore this case as possible I admit.'
         `Truely,' quod she, `and this case is impossible.'
         `How so?' quod I.
         `For herof,' quod she, `foloweth and wexeth another im_possible.
      
  25     `Prove me that,' quod I.
         `That I shal,' quod she; `for somthing is comming without
      necessit, and god wot that toforn; for al thing comming he
      before wot, and that he beforn wot of necessit is comming, as
      he beforn wot be the case by necessary maner; or els, thorow
  30  necessit, is somthing to be without necessit; and wheder, to
      every wight that hath good understanding, is seen these thinges
      to be repugnaunt: prescience of god, whiche that foloweth neces_sit,
      and libert of arbitrement, fro whiche is removed necessit?
      For truely, it is necessary that god have forweting of thing withouten
  35  any necessit cominge.'



|p112


      `Ye,' quod I; `but yet remeve ye nat away fro myne under_standing
      the necessit folowing goddes be foreweting, as thus. God
      beforn wot me in service of love to be bounden to this Margarite_perle,
      and therfore by necessit thus to love am I bounde; and
  40  if I had nat loved, thorow necessit had I ben kept from al love_dedes.'
      
         `Certes,' quod Iove, `bicause this mater is good and necessary
      to declare, I thinke here-in wel to abyde, and not lightly to passe.
      Thou shalt not (quod she) say al-only, "god beforn wot me to be
  45  a lover or no lover," but thus: "god beforn wot me to be a lover
      without necessit." And so foloweth, whether thou love or not
      love, every of hem is and shal be. But now thou seest the impos_sibilit
      of the case, and the possibilit of thilke that thou wendest
      had been impossible; wherfore the repugnaunce is adnulled.'
  50     `Ye,' quod I; `and yet do ye not awaye the strength of ne_cessit,
      whan it is said, th[r]ough necessit it is me in love to
      abyde, or not to love without necessit for god beforn wot it.
      This maner of necessit forsothe semeth to some men in-to co_accion,
      that is to sayne, constrayning, or else prohibicion, that is,
  55  defendinge; wherfore necessit is me to love of wil. I under_stande
      me to be constrayned by some privy strength to the wil
      of lovinge; and if [I] no[t] love, to be defended from the wil of
      lovinge: and so thorow necessit me semeth to love, for I love;
      or els not to love, if I not love; wherthrough neither thank ne
  60  maugr  in tho thinges may I deserve.'
         `Now,' quod she, `thou shalt wel understande, that often we
      sayn thing thorow necessit to be, that by no strength to be
      neither is coarted ne constrayned; and through necessit not
      to be, that with no defendinge is removed. For we sayn it is
  65  thorow necessit god to be immortal, nought deedliche; and it
      is necessit, god to be rightful; but not that any strength of
      violent maner constrayneth him to be immortal, or defendeth him
      to be unrightful; for nothing may make him dedly or unrightful.
      Right so, if I say, thorow necessit is thee to be a lover or els
  70  noon; only thorow wil, as god beforn wete. It is nat to under_stonde
      that any thing defendeth or forbit thee thy wil, whiche shal



|p113


      nat be; or els constrayneth it to be, whiche shal be. That same
      thing, forsoth, god before wot, whiche he beforn seeth. Any
      thing commende of only wil, that wil neyther is constrayned
  75  ne defended thorow any other thing. And so thorow libert of
      arbitrement it is do, that is don of wil. And trewly, my good
      child, if these thinges be wel understonde, I wene that non in_convenient
      shalt thou fynde betwene goddes foreweting and
      libert of arbitrement; wherfore I wot wel they may stande
  80  togider. Also farthermore, who that understanding of prescience
      properlich considreth, thorow the same wyse that any-thing be
      afore wist is said, for to be comming it is pronounced; there is
      nothing toforn wist but thing comming; foreweting is but of
      trouth[e]; dout[e] may nat be wist; wherfore. whan I sey that god
  85  toforn wot any-thing, thorow necessit is thilke thing to be com_ming;
      al is oon if I sey, it shal be. But this necessit neither
      constrayneth ne defendeth any-thing to be or nat to be. Therfore
      sothly, if love is put to be, it is said of necessit to be; or els, for it
      is put nat to be, it is affirmed nat to be of necessit; nat for that
  90  necessit constrayneth or defendeth love to be or nat to be. For
      whan I say, if love shal be, of necessit it shal be, here foloweth
      necessit the thing toforn put; it is as moch to say as if it were thus
      pronounced-"that thing shal be." Noon other thing signifyeth
      this necessit but only thus: that shal be, may nat togider be
  95  and nat be. Evenlich also it is soth, love was, and is, and shal
      be, nat of necessit; and nede is to have be al that was; and
      nedeful is to be al that is; and comming, to al that shal be.
      And it is nat the same to saye, love to be passed, and love
      passed to be passed; or love present to be present, and love to
  100 be present; or els love to be comminge, and love comminge to be
      comming. Dyversit in setting of wordes maketh dyversit in
      understandinge; altho[ugh ] in the same sentence they accorden
      of significacion; right as it is nat al oon, love swete to be swete,
      and love to be swete. For moch love is bitter and sorouful, er
  105 hertes ben esed; and yet it glad[d]eth thilke sorouful herte on
      suche love to thinke.'
         `Forsothe,' quod I, `outherwhile I have had mokel blisse in
      herte of love that stoundmele hath me sorily anoyed. And



|p114


      certes, lady, for I see my-self thus knit with this Margarite-perle
  110 as by bonde of your service and of no libert of wil, my herte wil
      now nat acorde this service to love. I can demin in my-selfe
      non otherwise but thorow necessit am I constrayned in this
      service to abyde. But alas! than, if I thorow nedeful compulsioun
      maugre me be with-holde, litel thank for al my greet traveil have
  115 I than deserved.'
         `Now,' quod this lady, `I saye as I sayde: me lyketh this
      mater to declare at the ful, and why: for many men have had
      dyvers fantasyes and resons, both on one syde therof and in the
      other. Of whiche right sone, I trowe, if thou wolt understonde,
  120 thou shalt conne yeve the sentence to the partie more probable
      by reson, and in soth knowing, by that I have of this mater
      maked an ende.'
         `Certes,' quod I, `of these thinges longe have I had greet lust
      to be lerned; for yet, I wene, goddes wil and his prescience
  125 acordeth with my service in lovinge of this precious Margarite_perle.
      After whom ever, in my herte, with thursting desyre wete,
      I do brenne; unwasting, I langour and fade; and the day of my
      desteny in dethe or in joye I onbyde; but yet in th'ende I am
      comforted by my supposaile, in blisse and in joye to determine
  130  after my desyres.'
         `That thing,' quoth Love, `hastely to thee neigh, god graunt
      of his grace and mercy! And this shal be my prayer, til thou be
      lykende in herte at thyne owne wil. But now to enforme thee in
      this mater (quod this lady) thou wost where I lefte; that was:
  135 love to be swete, and love swete to be swete, is not al oon for to
      say. For a tree is nat alway by necessit white. Somtyme, er it
      were white, it might have be nat white; and after tyme it is
      white, it may be nat white. But a white tree evermore nedeful
      is to be white; for neither toforn ne after it was white, might it
  140 be togider white and nat white. Also love, by necessit, is nat
      present as now in thee; for er it were present, it might have be
      that it shulde now nat have be; and yet it may be that it shal nat
      be present; but thy love present whiche to her, Margarite, thee
      hath bounde, nedeful is to be present. Trewly, som doing of



|p115


  145 accion, nat by necessit, is comminge fer toforn it be; it may be
      that it shal nat be comminge. Thing forsoth comming nedeful is
      to be comming; for it may nat be that comming shal nat be
      comming. And right as I have sayd of present and of future
      tymes, the same sentence in sothnesse is of the preterit, that is
  150 to say, tyme passed. For thing passed must nedes he passed; and
      er it were, it might have nat be; wherfore it shulde nat have
      passed. Right so, whan love comming is said of love that is to
      come, nedeful is to be that is said; for thing comming never is nat
      comminge. And so, ofte, the same thing we sayn of the same; as
  155 whan we sayn "every man is a man," or "every lover is a lover,"
      so muste it be nedes. In no waye may he be man and no man to_gider.
      And if it be nat by necessit, that is to say nedeful, al thing
      comming to be comming, than somthing comming is nat com_minge,
      and that is impossible. Right as these termes "nedeful,"
  160 "necessit," and "necessary" betoken and signify thing nedes
      to be, and it may nat otherwyse be, right [so] this terme "im_possible"
      signifyeth, that [a] thing is nat and by no way may it be.
      Than, thorow pert necessit, al thing comming is comming; but
      that is by necessit foloweth, with nothing to be constrayned.
  165 Lo! whan that "comming" is said of thinge, nat alway thing
      thorow necessit is, altho[ugh] it be comming. For if I say, "to_morowe
      love is comming in this Margarites herte," nat therfore
      thorow necessit shal the ilke love be; yet it may be that it shal
      nat be, altho[ugh] it were comming. Neverthelater, somtyme it
  170 is soth that somthing be of necessit, that is sayd "to come"; as
      if I say, to-morowe be comminge the rysinge of the sonne. If
      therfore with necessit I pronounce comming of thing to come, in
      this maner love to-morne comminge in thyne Margarit to thee_ward,
      by necessit is comminge; or els the rysing of the sonne
  175 to-morne comminge, through necessit is comminge. Love sothely,
      whiche may nat be of necessit alone folowinge, thorow necessit
      comming it is mad certayn. For "futur" of future is said; that is to
      sayn, "comming" of comminge is said; as, if to-morowe comming
      is thorow necessit, comminge it is. Arysing of the sonne, thorow
  180 two necessits in comming, it is to understande; that oon is to_for[e]going
      necessit, whiche maketh thing to be; therfore it shal
      be, for nedeful is that it be. Another is folowing necessit, whiche



|p116


      nothing constrayneth to be, and so by necessit it is to come; why?
      for it is to come. Now than, whan we sayn that god beforn wot
  185 thing comming, nedeful [it] is to be comming; yet therfore make
      we nat in certayn evermore, thing to be thorow necessit com_minge.
      Sothly, thing comming may nat be nat comming by no
      way; for it is the same sentence of understanding as if we say
      thus: if god beforn wot any-thing, nedeful is that to be comming.
  190 But yet therfore foloweth nat the prescience of God, thing thorow
      necessit to be comming: for al-tho[ugh] god toforn wot al
      thinges comming, yet nat therfore he beforn wot every thing
      comming thorow necessit. Some thinges he beforn wot com_ming
      of free wil out of resonable creature.'
  195   `Certes,' quod I, `these termes "nede" and "necessit" have
      a queint maner of understanding; they wolden dullen many
      mennes wittes.'
         `Therfore,' quod she, `I wol hem openly declare, and more
      clerely than I have toforn, er I departe hen[ne]s.


                          CHAPTER IV.

      |r<b> HERE of this mater,' quod she, `thou shalt understande
         that, right as it is nat nedeful, god to wilne that he wil,
      no more in many thinges is nat nedeful, a man to wilne that
      he wol. And ever, right as nedeful is to be, what that god wol,
   5  right so to be it is nedeful that man wol in tho thinges, whiche
      that god hath put in-to mannes subjeccion of willinge; as, if
      a man wol love, that he love; and if he ne wol love, that he love
      nat; and of suche other thinges in mannes disposicion. For-why,
      now than that god wol may nat be, whan he wol the wil of man
  10  thorow no necessit to be constrayned or els defended for to
      wilne, and he wol th'effect to folowe the wil; than is it nedeful,
      wil of man to be free, and also to be that he wol. In this maner
      it is soth, that thorow necessit is mannes werke in loving, that
      he wol do altho[ugh] he wol it nat with necessit.'
  15     Quod I than, `how stant it in love of thilke wil, sithen men



|p117


      loven willing of free choice in herte? Wherfore, if it be thorow
      necessit, I praye you, lady, of an answere this question to
      assoyle.'
         `I wol,' quod she, `answere thee blyvely. Right as men wil
  20  not thorow necessit, right so is not love of wil thorow necessit;
      ne thorow necessit wrought thilke same wil. For if he wolde
      it not with good wil, it shulde nat have been wrought; although
      that he doth, it is nedeful to be doon. But if a man do sinne, it
      is nothing els but to wilne that he shulde nat; right so sinne
  25  of wil is not to be [in] maner necessary don, no more than wil is
      necessarye. Never-the-later, this is sothe; if a man wol sinne,
      it is necessarye him to sinne, but th[r]ough thilke necessit nothing
      is constrayned ne defended in the wil; right so thilke thing that
      free-wil wol and may, and not may not wilne; and nedeful is
  30  that to wilne he may not wilne. But thilke to wilne nedeful is; for
      impossible to him it is oon thing and the same to wilne and not to
      wilne. The werke, forsothe, of wil, to whom it is yeve that it be that
      he hath in wil, and that he wol not, voluntarie or spontanye it is;
      for by spontanye wil it is do, that is to saye, with good wil not
  35  constrayned: than by wil not constrayned it is constrayned to
      be; and that is it may not togider be. If this necessit maketh
      libert of wil, whiche that, aforn they weren, they might have ben
      eschewed and shonned: god than, whiche that knoweth al
      tr[o]uthe, and nothing but tr[o]uthe, al these thinges, as they
  40  arn spontanye or necessarie, seeth; and as he seeth, so they
      ben. And so with these thinges wel considred, it is open at the
      ful, that without al maner repugnaunce god beforn wot al maner
      thinges [that] ben don by free wil, whiche, aforn they weren,
      [it] might have ben [that] never they shulde be. And yet ben
  45  they thorow a maner necessit from free wil discended.
         Hereby may (quod she) lightly ben knowe that not al thinges to
      be, is of necessit, though god have hem in his prescience. For
      som thinges to be, is of libert of wil. And to make thee to have
      ful knowinge of goddes beforn-weting, here me (quod she) what
  50  I shal say.'



|p118


      `Blythly, lady,' quod I, `me list this mater entyrely to under_stande.'
      
         `Thou shalt,' quod she, `understande that in heven is goddes
      beinge; although he be over al by power, yet there is abydinge of
  55  devyne persone; in whiche heven is everlastinge presence, with_outen
      any movable tyme. There * is nothing preterit ne passed,
      there is nothing future ne comming; but al thinges togider in that
      place ben present everlasting, without any meving. Wherfore, to
      god, al thing is as now; and though a thing be nat, in kyndly
  60  nature of thinges, as yet, and if it shulde be herafter, yet evermore
      we shul saye, god it maketh be tyme present, and now; for no
      future ne preterit in him may be founde. Wherfore his weting and
      his before-weting is al oon in understanding. Than, if weting
      and before-weting of god putteth in necessit to aI thinges whiche
  65  he wot or before-wot; ne thing, after eternite or els after any
      tyme, he wol or doth of libert, but al of necessit: whiche thing
      if thou wene it be ayenst reson, [than is] nat thorow necessit to
      be or nat to be, al thing that god wot or before-wot to be or nat
      to be; and yet nothing defendeth any-thing to be wist or to be
  70  before-wist of him in our willes or our doinges to be don, or els
      comminge to be for free arbitrement. Whan thou hast these
      declaracions wel understande, than shalt thou fynde it resonable
      at prove, and that many thinges be nat thorow necessit but
      thorow libert of wil, save necessit of free wil, as I tofore said,
  75  and, as me thinketh, al utterly declared.'
         `Me thinketh, lady,' quod I, `so I shulde you nat displese, and
      evermore your reverence to kepe, that these thinges contraryen in
      any understanding; for ye sayn, somtyme is thorow libert of
      wil, and also thorow necessit. Of this have I yet no savour,
  80  without better declaracion.'
         `What wonder,' quod she, `is there in these thinges, sithen al
      day thou shalt see at thyne eye, in many thinges receyven in hem_selfe
      revers, thorow dyvers resons, as thus:-I pray thee (quod
      she) which thinges ben more revers than "comen" and "gon"?
  85  For if I bidde thee "come to me," and thou come, after, whan
      I bidde thee "go," and thou go, thou reversest fro thy first
      comming.'



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         `That is soth,' quod I.
         `And yet,' quod she, `in thy first alone, by dyvers reson, was
  90  ful reversinge to understande.'
         `As how?' quod I.
         `That shal I shewe thee,' quod she, `by ensample of thinges
      that have kyndly moving. Is there any-thing that meveth more
      kyndly than doth the hevens eye, whiche I clepe the sonne?'
  95     `Sothly,' quod I, `me semeth it is most kyndly to move.'
         `Thou sayest soth,' quod she. `Than, if thou loke to th
      sonne, in what parte he be under heven, evermore he hyeth him
      in moving fro thilke place, and hyeth meving toward the ilke
      same place; to thilke place from whiche he doth he hyeth
  100 comminge; and without any ceesinge to that plaee he neigheth
      from whiche he is chaunged and withdrawe. But now in these
      thinges, after dyversit of reson, revers in one thinge may be seye
      without repugnaunce. Wherfore in the same wyse, without any
      repugnaunce, by my resons tofore maked, al is oon to beleve,
  105 somthing to be thorow necessit comminge for it is comming, and
      yet with no necessit constrayned to be comming, but with
      necessit that cometh out of free wil, as I have sayd.'
         Tho liste me a litel to speke, and gan stinte my penne of my
      wryting, and sayde in this wyse.
  110    `Trewly, lady, as me thinketh, I can allege authoritees grete,
      that contrarien your sayinges. Job saith of mannes person,
      "thou hast put his terme, whiche thou might not passe." Than
      saye I that no man may shorte ne lengthe the day ordayned of
      his dying, altho[ugh] somtyme to us it semeth som man to do
  115 a thing of free wil, wherthorow his deeth he henteth.'
         `Nay, forsothe,' quod she, `it is nothing ayenst my saying; for
      god is not begyled, ne he seeth nothing wheder it shal come of
      libert or els of necessit; yet it is said to be ordayned at god
      immovable, whiche at man, or it be don, may be chaunged.
  120 Suche thing is also that Poule the apostel saith of hem that tofore
      wern purposed to be sayntes, as thus: "whiche that god before
      wiste and hath predestined conformes of images of his sone, that
      he shulde ben the firste begeten, that is to saye, here amonges
      



|p120


      many brethren; and whom he hath predestined, hem he hath
  125 cleped; and whom he hath cleped, hem he hath justifyed; and
      whom he hath justifyed, hem he hath magnifyed." This purpos,
      after whiche they ben cleped sayntes or holy in the everlasting
      present, wher is neither tyme passed ne tyme comminge, but ever
      it is only present, and now as mokel a moment as sevin thousand
  130  winter; and so ayenward withouten any meving is nothing lich
      temporel presence for thinge that there is ever present. Yet
      amonges you men, er it be in your presence, it is movable thorow
      libert of arbitrement. And right as in the everlasting present
      no maner thing was ne shal be, but only is; and now here, in
  135 your temporel tyme, somthing was, and is, and shal be, but
      movinge stoundes; and in this is no maner repugnaunce: right
      so, in the everlasting presence, nothing may be chaunged; and,
      in your temporel tyme, otherwhyle it is proved movable by libert
      of wil or it be do, withouten any inconvenience therof to folowe.
  140 In your temporel tyme is no suche presence as in the tother; for
      your present is don whan passed and to come ginnen entre;
      whiche tymes here amonges you everich esily foloweth other.
      But the presence everlasting dureth in oonhed, withouten any
      imaginable chaunging, and ever is present and now. Trewly, the
  145 course of the planettes and overwhelminges of the sonne in dayes
      and nightes, with a newe ginning of his circute after it is ended,
      that is to sayn, oon yeer to folowe another: these maken your
      transitory tymes with chaunginge of lyves and mutacion of people,
      but right as your temporel presence coveiteth every place, and al
  150 thinges in every of your tymes be contayned, and as now both
      seye and wist to goddes very knowinge.'
         `Than,' quod I, `me wondreth why Poule spak these wordes
      by voice of significacion in tyme passed, that god his sayntes
      before-wist hath predestined, hath cleped, hath justifyed, and
  155 hath magnifyed. Me thinketh, he shulde have sayd tho wordes
      in tyme present; and that had ben more accordaunt to the
      everlasting present than to have spoke in preterit voice of passed
      understanding.'
         `O,' quod Love, `by these wordes I see wel thou hast litel
  160 understanding of the everlasting presence, or els of my before



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      spoken wordes; for never a thing of tho thou hast nempned was
      tofore other or after other; but al at ones evenlich at the god
      ben, and al togider in the everlasting present be now to under_standing.
      This eternal presence, as I sayd, hath inclose togider
  165 in one al tymes, in which close and one al thinges that ben in
      dyvers tymes and in dyvers places temporel, [and] without poste_riorit
      or priorit ben closed ther in perpetual now, and maked
      to dwelle in present sight. But there thou sayest that Poule shulde
      have spoke thilke forsaid sentence by tyme present, and that
  170 most shulde have ben acordaunt to the everlasting presence,
      why gabbest thou in thy wordes? Sothly, I say, Poule moved
      the wordes by significacion of tyme passed, to shewe fully that
      thilk wordes were nat put for temporel significacion; for al [at] thilk
      tyme [of] thilke sentence were nat temporallich born, whiche that
  175 Poule pronounced god have tofore knowe, and have cleped, than
      magnifyed. Wherthorow it may wel be knowe that Poule used tho
      wordes of passed significacion, for nede and lacke of a worde
      in mannes bodily speche betokeninge the everlasting presence.
      And therfore, [in] worde moste semeliche in lykenesse to ever_lasting
  180 presence, he took his sentence; for thinges that here_beforn
      ben passed utterly be immovable, y-lyke to the everlasting
      presence. As thilke that ben there never mowe not ben present,
      so thinges of tyme passed ne mowe in no wyse not ben passed;
      but al thinges in your temporal presence, that passen in a litel
  185 while, shullen ben not present. So than in that, it is more
      similitude to the everlasting presence, significacion of tyme passed
      than of tyme temporal present, and so more in accordaunce. In
      this maner what thing, of these that ben don thorow free arbitre_ment,
      or els as necessary, holy writ pronounceth, after eternit he
  190 speketh; in whiche presence is everlasting sothe and nothing but
      sothe immovable; nat after tyme, in whiche naught alway ben
      your willes and your actes. And right as, while they be nat, it is
      nat nedeful hem to be, so ofte it is nat nedeful that somtyme
      they shulde be.'
  195   `As how?' quod I; `for yet I must be lerned by some
      ensample.'
         `Of love,' quod she, `wol I now ensample make, sithen I knowe



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      the heed-knotte in that yelke. Lo! somtyme thou wrytest no
      art, ne art than in no wil to wryte. And right as while thou
  200 wrytest nat or els wolt nat wryte, it is nat nedeful thee to wryte
      or els wilne to wryte. And for to make thee knowe utterly that
      thinges ben otherwise in the everlastinge presence than in
      temporal tyme, see now, my good child: for somthing is in the
      everlastinge presence, than in temporal tyme it was nat; in
  205 eterne tyme, in eterne presence shal it nat be. Than no reson
      defendeth, that somthing ne may be in tyme temporal moving,
      that in eterne is immovable. Forsothe, it is no more contrary
      ne revers for to be movable in tyme temporel, and [im]movable
      in eternit, than nat to be in any tyme and to be alway in
  210 eternit; and to have be or els to come in tyme temporel, and
      nat have be ne nought comming to be in eternite. Yet never_the-later.
      I say nat somthing to be never in tyme temporel, that
      ever is [in] eternite; but al-only in som tyme nat to be. For
      I saye nat thy love to-morne in no tyme to be, but to-day alone
  215 I deny it to be; and yet, never-the-later, it is alway in eternite.'
         `A! so,' quod I, `it semeth to me, that comming thing or els
      passed here in your temporal tyme to be, in eternit ever now
      and present oweth nat to be demed; and yet foloweth nat thilke
      thing, that was or els shal be, in no maner ther to ben passed
  220 or els comming; than utterly shul we deny for there without
      ceesing it is, in his present maner.'
        `O,' quod she, `myne owne disciple, now ginnest thou [be]
      able to have the name of my servaunt! Thy wit is clered; away
      is now errour of cloude in unconning; away is blyndnesse of
  225 love; away is thoughtful study of medling maners. Hastely
      shalt thou entre in-to the joye of me, that am thyn owne
      maistres! Thou hast (quod she), in a fewe wordes, wel and
      cherely concluded mokel of my mater. And right as there is
      no revers ne contrarioustee in tho thinges, right so, withouten
  230 any repugnaunce, it is sayd somthing to be movable in tyme
      temporel, afore it be, that in eternite dwelleth immovable, nat
      afore it be or after that it is, but without cessing; for right
      naught is there after tyme; that same is there everlastinge that



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      temporalliche somtyme nis; and toforn it be, it may not be, as
  235 I have sayd.'
         `Now sothly,' quod I, `this have I wel understande; so that
      now me thinketh, that prescience of god and free arbitrement
      withouten any repugnaunce acorden; and that maketh the
      strength of eternit, whiche encloseth by presence during al
  240 tymes, and al thinges that ben, han ben, and shul ben in any
      tyme. I wolde now (quod I) a litel understande, sithen that
      [god] al thing thus beforn wot, whether thilke wetinge be of tho
      thinges, or els thilke thinges ben to ben of goddes weting, and so
      of god nothing is; and if every thing be thorow goddes weting, and
  245 therof take his being, than shulde god be maker and auctour
      of badde werkes, and so he shulde not rightfully punisshe yvel
      doinges of mankynde.'
         Quod Love, `I shal telle thee, this lesson to lerne. Myne
      owne trewe servaunt, the noble philosophical poete in Englissh,
  250 whiche evermore him besieth and travayleth right sore my name
      to encrese (wherfore al that willen me good owe to do him
      worship and reverence bothe; trewly, his better ne his pere in
      scole of my rules coude I never fynde)-- he (quod she), in a tretis
      that he made of my servant Troilus, hath this mater touched, and
  255 at the ful this question assoyled. Certaynly, his noble sayinges
      can I not amende; in goodnes of gentil manliche speche, without
      any maner of nycet of storiers imaginacion, in witte and in
      good reson of sentence he passeth al other makers. In the boke
      of Troilus, the answere to thy question mayst thou lerne. Never_the-later,
  260 yet may lightly thyne understandinge somdel ben lerned,
      if thou have knowing of these to-fornsaid thinges; with that thou
      have understanding of two the laste chapiters of this seconde
      boke, that is to say, good to be somthing, and bad to wante al
      maner being. For badde is nothing els but absence of good;
  265 and [as] that god in good maketh that good dedes ben good,
      in yvel he maketh that they ben but naught, that they ben bad;
      for to nothing is badnesse to be [lykned].'
         `I have,' quod I tho, `ynough knowing therin; me nedeth of
      other thinges to here, that is to saye, how I shal come to my
  270 blisse so long desyred.'



|p124


                              CHAPTER V.

      |r<b> `IN this mater toforn declared,' quod Love, `I have wel
         shewed, that every man hath free arbitrement of thinges in
      his power, to do or undo what him lyketh. Out of this grounde
      muste come the spire, that by processe of tyme shal in greetnesse
   5  sprede, to have braunches and blosmes of waxing frute in grace,
      of whiche the taste and the savour is endelesse blisse, in joye
      ever to onbyde.'*
         `Now, trewly, lady, I have my grounde wel understonde;
      but what thing is thilke spire that in-to a tree shulde wexe?
  10  Expowne me that thing, what ye therof mene.'
         `That shal I,' quod she, `blithly, and take good hede to the
      wordes, I thee rede. Continuaunce in thy good service, by longe
      processe of tyme in ful hope abyding, without any chaunge to
      wilne in thyne herte, this is the spire. Whiche, if it be wel kept
  15  and governed, shal so hugely springe, til the fruit of grace is
      plentuously out-sprongen. For although thy wil be good, yet
      may not therfore thilk blisse desyred hastely on thee discenden;
      it must abyde his sesonable tyme. And so, by processe of
      growing, with thy good traveyle, it shal in-to more and more wexe,
  20  til it be found so mighty, that windes of yvel speche, ne scornes
      of envy, make nat the traveyle overthrowe; ne frostes of mistrust,
      ne hayles of jelousy right litel might have, in harming of suche
      springes. Every yonge setling lightly with smale stormes is
      apeyred; but whan it is woxen somdel in gretnesse, than han
  25  grete blastes and weders but litel might, any disadvantage to
      them for to werche.'
         `Myne owne soverayne lady,' quod I, `and welth of myne
      herte, and it were lyking un-to your noble grace therthrough nat
      to be displesed, I suppose ye erren, now ye maken jelousy, envy
  30  and distourbour to hem that ben your servauntes. I have lerned
      ofte, to-forn this tyme, that in every lovers herte greet plentee of
      jelousyes greves ben sowe, wherfore (me thinketh) ye ne ought
      in no maner accompte thilke thing among these other welked
      wivers and venomous serpentes, as envy, mistrust, and yvel
  35  speche.'



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         `O fole,' quod she, `mistrust with foly, with yvel wil medled,
      engendreth that welked padde! Truely, if they were distroyed,
      jelousy undon were for ever; and yet some maner of jelousy,
      I wot wel, is ever redy in al the hertes of my trewe servauntes, as
  40  thus: to be jelous over him-selfe, lest he be cause of his own
      disese. This jelousy in ful thought ever shulde be kept, for
      ferdnesse to lese his love by miskeping, thorow his owne doing in
      leudnesse, or els thus: lest she, that thou servest so fervently, is
      beset there her letter lyketh, that of al thy good service she
  45  compteth nat a cresse. These jelousies in herte for acceptable
      qualitees ben demed; these oughten every trewe lover, by kyndly
      [maner], evermore haven in his mynde, til fully the grace and
      blisse of my service be on him discended at wil. And he that
      than jelousy caccheth, or els by wening of his owne folisshe
  50  wilfulnesse mistrusteth, truely with fantasy of venim he is foule
      begyled. Yvel wil hath grounded thilke mater of sorowe in his
      leude soule, and yet nat-for-than to every wight shulde me nat
      truste, ne every wight fully misbeleve; the mene of these thinges
      oweth to be used. Sothly, withouten causeful evidence mistrust
  55  in jelousy shulde nat be wened in no wyse person commenly;
      suche leude wickednesse shulde me nat fynde. He that is wyse
      and with yvel wil nat be acomered, can abyde wel his tyme, til
      grace and blisse of his service folowing have him so mokel esed,
      as his abydinge toforehande hath him disesed.'
  60     `Certes, lady,' quod I tho, `of nothing me wondreth, sithen
      thilke blisse so precious is and kyndly good, and wel is and worthy
      in kynde whan it is medled with love and reson, as ye toforn
      have declared. Why, anon as hye oon is spronge, why springeth
      nat the tother? And anon as the oon cometh, why receyveth nat
  65  the other? For every thing that is out of his kyndly place, by ful
      appetyt ever cometh thiderward kyndely to drawe; and his kyndly
      being ther-to him constrayneth. And the kyndly stede of this
      blisse is in suche wil medled to onbyde, and nedes in that it
      shulde have his kyndly being. Wherfore me thinketh, anon as that
  70  wil to be shewed and kid him profreth, thilke blisse shulde him
      hye, thilk wil to receyve; or els kynde[s] of goodnesse worchen
      nat in hem as they shulde. Lo, be the sonne never so fer, ever



|p126


      it hath his lkynde werching in erthe. Greet weight on hye on_lofte
      caried stinteth never til it come to his resting-place. Waters
  75  to the see-ward ever ben they drawing. Thing that is light
      blythly wil nat sinke, but ever ascendeth and upward draweth.
      Thus kynde in every thing his kyndly cours and his beinge-place
      sheweth. Wherfore by kynde, on this good wil, anon as it were
      spronge, this blisse shulde thereon discende; her kynde[s] wolde,
  80  they dwelleden togider; and so have ye sayd your-selfe.'
         `Certes,' quod she, `thyne herte sitteth wonder sore, this blisse
      for to have; thyne herte is sore agreved that it tarieth so longe;
      and if thou durstest, as me thinketh by thyne wordes, this blisse
      woldest thou blame. But yet I saye, thilke blisse is kyndly good,
  85  and his kyndely place [is] in that wil to onbyde. Never-the-later,
      their comming togider, after kyndes ordinaunce, nat sodaynly
      may betyde; it muste abyde tyme, as kynde yeveth him leve.
      For if a man, as this wil medled gonne him shewe, and thilke
      blisse in haste folowed, so lightly comminge shulde lightly cause
  90  going. Longe tyme of thursting causeth drink to be the more
      delicious whan it is atasted.'
         `How is it,' quod I than, `that so many blisses see I al day at
      myne eye, in the firste moment of a sight, with suche wil accorde?
      Ye, and yet other-whyle with wil assenteth, singulerly by him-selfe;
  95  there reson fayleth, traveyle was non; service had no tyme. This
      is a queynt maner thing, how suche doing cometh aboute.'
         `O,' quod she, `that is thus. The erthe kyndely, after sesons
      and tymes of the yere, bringeth forth innumerable herbes and
      trees, bothe profitable and other; but suche as men might leve
  100 (though they nought in norisshinge to mannes kynde serven, or
      els suche as tournen sone unto mennes confusion, in case that
      therof they ataste), comen forth out of the erthe by their owne
      kynde, withouten any mannes cure or any businesse in traveyle.
      And the ilke herbes that to mennes lyvelode necessarily serven,
  105 without whiche goodly in this lyfe creatures mowen nat enduren,
      and most ben norisshinge to mankynde, without greet traveyle,
      greet tilthe, and longe abydinge-tyme, comen nat out of the erthe,
      and [y]it with sede toforn ordayned, suche herbes to make springe



|p127


      and forth growe. Right so the parfit blisse, that we have in meninge
  110 of during-tyme to abyde, may nat come so lightly, but with greet
      traveyle and right besy tilth; and yet good seed to be sowe; for
      ofte the croppe fayleth of badde seede, be it never so wel traveyled.
      And thilke blisse thou spoke of so lightly in comming, trewly, is
      nat necessary ne abydinge; and but it the letter be stamped,
  115 and the venomous jeuse out-wrongen, it is lykely to enpoysonen
      al tho that therof tasten. Certes, right bitter ben the herbes that
      shewen first [in] the yere of her own kynde. Wel the more is the
      harvest that yeldeth many graynes, tho longe and sore it hath ben
      traveyled. What woldest thou demen if a man wold yeve three
  120 quarters of nobles of golde? That were a precious gift?'
         `Ye, certes,' quod I.
         `And what,' quod she, `three quarters ful of perles?'
         `Certes,' quod I, `that were a riche gift.'
         `And what,' quod she, `of as mokel azure?'
  125   Quod I, `a precious gift at ful.'
         `Were not,' quod she, `a noble gift of al these atones?'
         `In good faith,' quod I, `for wanting of Englissh naming of
      so noble a worde, I can not, for preciousnesse, yeve it a name.'
         `Rightfully,' quod she, `hast thou demed; and yet love, knit
  130  in vertue, passeth al the gold in this erthe. Good wil, accordant
      to reson, with no maner propert may be countrevayled. Al the
      azure in the worlde is nat to accompte in respect of reson. Love
      that with good wil and reson accordeth, with non erthly riches
      may nat ben amended. This yeft hast thou yeven, I know it
  135 my-selfe, and thy Margarite thilke gift hath receyved; in whiche
      thinge to rewarde she hath her-selfe bounde. But thy gift, as
      I said, by no maner riches may be amended; wherfore, with
      thinge that may nat be amended, thou shalt of thy Margarites
      rightwisenesse be rewarded. Right suffred yet never but every
  140 good dede somtyme to be yolde. Al wolde thy Margarite with
      no rewarde thee quyte, right, that never-more dyeth, thy mede in
      merit wol purvey. Certes, such sodayn blisse as thou first
      nempnest, right wil hem rewarde as thee wel is worthy; and
      though at thyn eye it semeth, the reward the desert to passe,
  145 right can after sende suche bitternesse, evenly it to rewarde. So



|p128


      that sodayn blisse, by al wayes of reson, in gret goodnesse may
      not ben acompted; but blisse long, both long it abydeth, and
      endlesse it wol laste. See why thy wil is endelesse. For if thou
      lovedest ever, thy wil is ever ther t'abyde and neveremore to
  150 chaunge; evenhed of rewarde must ben don by right; than muste
      nedes thy grace and this blisse [ben] endelesse in joye to onbyde.
      Evenliche disese asketh evenliche joye, whiche hastely thou shalt
      have.'
         `A!' quod I, `it suffyseth not than alone good wil, be it never
  155 so wel with reson medled, but-if it be in good service longe
      travayled. And so through service shul men come to the joye;
      and this, me thinketh, shulde be the wexing tree, of which ye first
      meved.*


                             CHAPTER VI.

      |r<b> NOW, lady,' quod I, `that tree to sette, fayn wolde I lerne.'
         `So thou shalt,' quod she, `er thou depart hence. The
      first thing, thou muste sette thy werke on grounde siker and good,
      accordaunt to thy springes. For if thou desyre grapes, thou
   5  goest not to the hasel; ne, for to fecchen roses, thou sekest not
      on okes; and if thou shalt have hony-soukels, thou levest the
      frute of the soure docke. Wherfore, if thou desyre this blisse in
      parfit joye, thou must sette thy purpos there vertue foloweth, and
      not to loke after the bodily goodes; as I sayd whan thou were
  10  wryting in thy seconde boke. And for thou hast set thy-selfe in
      so noble a placc, and utterly lowed in thyn herte the misgoing of
      thy first purpos, this setling is the esier to springe, and the more
      lighter thy soule in grace to be lissed. And trewly thy desyr,
      that is to say, thy wil algates mot ben stedfast in this mater with_out
  15  any chaunginge; for if it be stedfast, no man may it voyde.'
         `Yes, pard,' quod I, `my wil may ben turned by frendes, and
      disese of manace and thretning in lesinge of my lyfe and of my
      limmes, and in many other wyse that now cometh not to mynde.
      And also it mot ofte ben out of thought; for no remembraunce
  20  may holde oon thing continuelly in herte, be it never so lusty
      desyred.'



|p129


         `Now see,' quod she, `thou thy wil shal folowe, thy free wil to
      be grounded continuelly to abyde. It is thy free wil, that thou
      lovest and hast loved, and yet shal loven this Margaryte-perle;
  25  and in thy wil thou thinkest to holde it. Than is thy wil knit
      in love, not to chaunge for no newe lust besyde; this wil techeth
      thyn herte from al maner varying. But than, although thou be
      thretened in dethe or els in otherwyse, yet is it in thyn arbitre_ment
      to chose, thy love to voyde or els to holde; and thilke
  30  arbitrement is in a maner a jugement bytwene desyr and thy
      herte. And if thou deme to love thy good wil fayleth, than art
      thou worthy no blisse that good wil shulde deserve; and if thou
      chose continuaunce in thy good service, than thy good wil
      abydeth; nedes, blisse folowing of thy good wil must come by
  35  strength of thilke jugement; for thy first wil, that taught thyn
      herte to abyde, and halt it from th'eschaunge, with thy reson
      is accorded. Trewly, this maner of wil thus shal abyde; im_possible
      it were to turne, if thy herte be trewe; and if every
      man diligently the meninges of his wil consider, he shal wel
  40  understande that good wil, knit with reson, but in a false herte
      never is voyded; for power and might of keping this good wil is
      thorow libert of arbitrement in herte, but good wil to kepe
      may not fayle. Eke than if it fayle, it sheweth it-selfe that good
      wil in keping is not there. And thus false wil, that putteth out
  45  the good, anon constrayneth the herte to accorde in lovinge of
      thy good wil; and this accordaunce bitwene false wil and thyn
      herte, in falsit ben lykened togider. Yet a litel wol I say
      thee in good wil, thy good willes to rayse and strengthe. Tak
      hede to me (quod she) how thy willes thou shalt understande.
  50  Right as ye han in your body dyvers membres, and fyve sondrye
      wittes, everiche apart to his owne doing, whiche thinges as
      instrumentes ye usen; as, your handes apart to handle; feet,
      to go; tonge, to speke; eye, to see: right so the soule hath
      in him certayne steringes and strengthes, whiche he useth as
  55  instrumentes to his certayne doinges. Reson is in the soule,
      which he useth, thinges to knowe and to prove; and wil, whiche
      he useth to wilne; and yet is neyther wil ne reson al the soule;
      but everich of hem is a thing by him-selfe in the soule. And



|p130


      right as everich hath thus singuler instrumentes by hemselfe,
  60  they han as wel dyvers aptes and dyvers maner usinges; and
      thilke aptes mowen in wil ben cleped affeccions. Affeccion is
      an instrument of willinge in his apetytes. Wherfore mokel folk
      sayn, if a resonable creatures soule any thing fervently wilneth,
      affectuously he wilneth; and thus may wil, by terme of equivocas,
  65  in three wayes ben understande. Oon is instrument of willing;
      another is affection of this instrument; and the third is use, that
      setteth it a-werke. Instrument of willing is thilke strength of the
      soule, which that constrayneth to wilne, right as reson is instru_ment
      of resons, which ye usen whan ye loken. Affeccion of this
  70  instrument is a thing, by whiche ye be drawe desyrously any_thing
      to wilne in coveitous maner, al be it for the tyme out
      of your mynde; as, if it come in your thought thilke thing to
      remembre, anon ye ben willing thilke to done or els to have.
      And thus is instrument wil; and affeccion is wil also, to wilne
  75  thing as I said; as, for to wilne helth, whan wil nothing theron
      thinketh; for anon as it cometh to memorie, it is in wil. And so
      is affeccion to wilne slepe, whan it is out of mynde; but anon
      as it is remembred, wil wilneth slepe, whan his tyme cometh of
      the doinge. For affeccion of wil never accordeth to sicknesse,
  80  ne alway to wake. Right so in a true lovers affeccion of willing,
      instrument is to wilne tr[o]uthe in his service; and this affeccion
      alway abydeth, although he be sleping or thretned, or els not
      theron thinking; but anon as it cometh to mynde, anon he is
      stedfast in that wil to abyde. Use of this instrument forsothe
  85  is another thing by himselfe; and that have ye not but whan
      ye be doing in willed thing, by affect or instrument of wil
      purposed or desyred; and this maner of usage in my service
      wysely nedeth to be ruled from wayters with envy closed, from
      spekers ful of jangeling wordes, from proude folk and hautayn,
  90  that lambes and innocentes bothe scornen and dispysen. Thus
      in doing varieth the actes of willinge everich from other, and yet
      ben they cleped "wil," and the name of wil utterly owen they to
      have; as instrument of wil is wil, whan ye turne in-to purpos of
      any thing to don, be it to sitte or to stande, or any such thing
  95  els. This instrument may ben had, although affect and usage be
      left out of doing; right as ye have sight and reson, and yet alway



|p131


      use ye* nat to loke, [ne] thinges with resonning to prove; and so
      is instrument of wil, wil; and yet varyeth he from effect and
      using bothe. Affeccion of wil also for wil is cleped, but it varyeth
  100 from instrument in this maner wyse, by that nameliche, whan it
      cometh in-to mynde, anon-right it is in willinge desyred, and the
      negatif therof with willing nil not acorde; this is closed in herte,
      though usage and instrument slepe. This slepeth whan instru_ment
      and us[e] waken; and of suche maner affeccion, trewly,
  105 some man hath more and some man lesse. Certes, trewe lovers
      wenen ever therof to litel to have. False lovers in litel wenen
      have right mokel. Lo, instrument of wil in false and trewe
      bothe, evenliche is proporcioned; but affeccion is more in some
      places than in some, bycause of the goodnesse that foloweth, and
  110 that I thinke hereafter to declare. Use of this instrument is wil,
      but it taketh his name whan wilned thing is in doing; but utterly
      grace to cacche in thy blisse desyreth to ben rewarded. Thou
      most have than affeccion of wil at the ful, and use whan his
      tyme asketh wysely to ben governed. Sothly, my disciple,
  115 without fervent affeccion of wil may no man ben saved. This
      affeccion of good service in good love may not ben grounded,
      without fervent desyr to the thing in wil coveited. But he that
      never reccheth to have or not to have, affeccion of wil in that
      hath no resting-place. Why? For whan thing cometh to mynde,
  120 and it be not taken in hede to comin or not come, therfore in
      that place affeccion fayleth; and, for thilke affeccion is so litel,
      thorow whiche in goodnesse he shulde come to his grace, the
      litelnesse wil it not suffre to avayle by no way in-to his helpes.
      Certes, grace and reson thilke affeccion foloweth. This affeccion,
  125 with reson knit, dureth in everiche trewe herte, and evermore
      is encresing; no ferdnesse, no strength may it remove, whyle
      tr[o]uthe in herte abydeth. Sothly, whan falsheed ginneth entre,
      tr[o]uthe draweth away grace and joye bothe; but than thilke
      falsheed, that trouth[e] hath thus voyded, hath unknit the bond
  130 of understanding reson bytwene wil and the herte. And who-so
      that bond undoth, and unknitteth wil to be in other purpose
      than to the first accorde, knitteth him with contrarye of reson;



|p132


      and that is unreson. Lo, than, wil and unreson bringeth a man
      from the blisse of grace; whiche thing, of pure kynde, every man
  135 ought to shonne and to eschewe, and to the knot of wil and reson
      confirme.
         Me thinketh,' quod she, `by thy studient lokes, thou wenest in
      these wordes me to contrarien from other sayinges here-toforn
      in other place, as whan thou were somtyme in affeccion of wil to
  140 thinges that now han brought thee in disese, which I have thee
      consayled to voyde, and thyn herte discover; and there I made
      thy wil to ben chaunged, whiche now thou wenest I argue to
      with[h]olde and to kepe! Shortly I say, the revers in these
      wordes may not ben founde; for though dronkennesse be for_boden,
  145 men shul not alway ben drinklesse. I trowe right, for
      thou thy wil out of reson shulde not tourne, thy wil in one reson
      shulde not onbyde. I say, thy wil in thy first purpos with
      unreson was closed; constrewe forth of the remenant what thee
      good lyketh. Trewly, that wil and reson shulde be knit togider,
  150 was free wil of reson; after tyme thyne herte is assentaunt to them
      bothe, thou might not chaunge. But if thou from rule of reson
      varye, in whiche variaunce to come to thilke blisse desyred, con_trariously
      thou werchest; and nothing may knowe wil and reson
      but love alone. Than if thou voide love, than weyvest [thou]
  155 the bond that knitteth; and so nedes, or els right lightly, that
      other gon asondre; wherfore thou seest apertly that love holdeth
      this knot, and amaystreth hem to be bounde. These thinges, as
      a ring in circuit of wrethe, ben knit in thy soule without departing.'
         `A! let be! let be!' quod I; `it nedeth not of this no
  160 rehersayle to make; my soule is yet in parfit blisse, in tkinking of
      that knotte!'*


                             CHAPTER VII.

      |r<b> `VERY trouth,' quod she, `hast thou now conceyved of these
         thinges in thyne herte; hastely shalt thou be able very
      joye and parfit blisse to receyve; and now, I wot wel, thou
      desyrest to knowe the maner of braunches that out of the tree
   5  shulde springe.'



|p133


         `Therof, lady,' quod I, `hertely I you pray; for than leve
      I wel, that right sone after I shal ataste of the frute that I so
      long have desyred.'
         `Thou hast herd,' quod she, `in what wyse this tree toforn this
  10  have I declared, as in grounde and in stocke of wexing. First,
      the ground shulde be thy free wil, ful in thyne herte; and the
      stocke (as I sayde) shulde be continuaunce in good service by
      long tyme in traveyle, til it were in greetnesse right wel woxen.
      And whan this tree suche greetnesse hath caught as I have
  15  rehersed, the braunches than, that the frute shulde forth-bringe,
      speche must they be nedes, in voice of prayer in complayning
      wyse used.'
         `Out! alas! ' quod I tho, `he is soroufully wounded that
      hydeth his speche, and spareth his complayntes to make! What
  20  shal I speke the care? But payne, even lyk to helle, sore hath
      me assayled, and so ferforth in payne me thronge, that I leve my
      tree is seer, and never shal it frute forth bringe! Certes, he is
      greetly esed, that dare his prevy mone discover to a true felowe,
      that conning hath and might, wherthrough his pleint in any thinge
  25  may ben amended. And mokel more is he joyed, that with herte
      of hardinesse dare complayne to his lady what cares that he
      suffreth, by hope of mercy with grace to be avaunced. Truely
      I saye for me, sithe I cam this Margarit to serve, durst I never me
      discover of no maner disese; and wel the later hath myn herte
  30  hardyed suche thinges to done, for the grete bountees and worthy
      refresshmentes that she of her grace goodly, without any desert on
      my halve, ofte hath me rekened. And nere her goodnesse the
      more with grace and with mercy medled, which passen al desertes,
      traveyls, and servinges that I in any degre might endite, I wolde
  35  wene I shulde be without recover, in getting of this blisse for
      ever! Thus have I stilled my disese; thus have I covered my
      care; that I brenne in sorouful anoy, as gledes and coles wasten
      a fyr under deed asshen. Wel the hoter is the fyr that with
      asshen it is overleyn. Right longe this wo have I suffred.'
  40     `Lo,' quod Love, `how thou farest! Me thinketh, the palasy_yvel
      hath acomered thy wittes; as faste as thou hyest forward,
      anon sodaynly backward thou movest! Shal nat yet al thy
      leudnesse out of thy braynes? Dul ben thy skilful understandinges;



|p134


      thy wil hath thy wit so amaistred. Wost thou nat wel (quod she)
  45  but every tree, in his sesonable tyme of burjoninge, shewe his
      blomes fro within, in signe of what frute shulde out of him
      springe, els the frute for that yere men halt delivered, be the
      ground never so good? And though the stocke be mighty at
      the ful, and the braunches seer, and no burjons shewe, farwel the
  50  gardiner! He may pype with an yv-lefe; his frute is fayled.
      Wherfore thy braunches must burjonen in presence of thy lady, if
      thou desyre any frute of thy ladies grace. But beware of thy lyfe,
      that thou no wode lay use, as in asking of thinges that strecchen
      in-to shame! For than might thou nat spede, by no maner way
  55  that I can espy. Vertue wol nat suffre villany out of him-selfe to
      springe. Thy wordes may nat be queynt, ne of subtel maner
      understandinge. Freel-witted people supposen in suche poesies
      to be begyled; in open understandinge must every word be used.
      "Voice without clere understanding of sentence," saith Aristotel,
  60  "right nought printeth in herte." Thy wordes than to abyde in
      herte, and clene in ful sentence of trewe mening, platly must
      thou shewe; and ever be obedient, her hestes and her wils to
      performe; and be thou set in suche a wit, to wete by a loke
      ever-more what she meneth. And he that list nat to speke, but
  65  stilly his disese suffer, what wonder is it, tho[ugh] he come never
      to his blisse? Who that traveyleth unwist, and coveyteth thing
      unknowve, unweting he shal be quyted, and with unknowe thing
      rewarded.'
         `Good lady,' quod I than, `it hath ofte be sene, that weders
  70  and stormes so hugely have falle in burjoning-tyme, and by perte
      duresse han beten of the springes so clene, wherthrough the frute
      of thilke yere hath fayled. It is a greet grace, whan burjons han
      good weders, their frutes forth to bringe. Alas! than, after
      suche stormes, how hard is it to avoyde, til efte wedring and
  75  yeres han maked her circute cours al about, er any frute be able
      to be tasted! He is shent for shame, that foule is rebuked of his
      speche. He that is in fyre brenning sore smarteth for disese;
      him thinketh ful long er the water come, that shulde the fyr
      quenche. While men gon after a leche, the body is buryed.
  80  Lo! how semely this frute wexeth! Me thinketh, that of tho



|p135


      frutes may no man ataste, for pure bitternesse in savour. In this
      wyse bothe frute and the tree wasten away togider, though mokel
      besy occupacion have be spent, to bringe it so ferforth that it
      was able to springe. A lyte speche hath maked that al this labour
  85  is in ydel.'
         `I not,' quod she, `wherof it serveth, thy question to assoyle.
      Me thinketh thee now duller in wittes than whan I with thee first
      mette. Although a man be leude, commenly for a fole he is nat
      demed but-if he no good wol lerne. Sottes and foles lete lightly
  90  out of mynde the good that men techeth hem. I sayd therfore,
      thy stocke must be stronge, and in greetnesse wel herted: the
      tree is ful feble that at the firste dent falleth. And although frute
      fayleth oon yere or two, yet shal suche a seson come oon tyme or
      other, that shal bringe out frute that [is parfit]. Fole, have I not
  95  seyd toforn this, as tyme hurteth, right so ayenward tyme heleth
      and rewardeth; and a tree oft fayled is holde more in deyntee
      whan it frute forth bringeth. A marchaunt that for ones lesinge
      in the see no more to aventure thinketh, he shal never with
      aventure come to richesse. So ofte must men on the oke smyte,
  100 til the happy dent have entred, whiche with the okes owne swaye
      maketh it to come al at ones. So ofte falleth the lethy water on
      the harde rocke, til it have thorow persed it. The even draught
      of the wyr-drawer maketh the wyr to ben even and supple_werchinge;
      and if he stinted in his draught, the wyr breketh
  105 a-sonder. Every tree wel springeth, whan it is wel grounded and,
      not often removed.'
         `What shal this frute be,' quod I, `now it ginneth rype?'
         `Grace,' quod she, `in parfit joy to endure; and therwith thou
      begon[ne].'
  110    `Grace?' quod I; `me thinketh, I shulde have a reward for my
      longe travayle?'
         `I shal telle thee,' quod she; `retribucion of thy good willes
      to have of thy Margarite-perle, it bereth not the name of mede,
      but only of good grace; and that cometh not of thy desert, but
  115 of thy Margarytes goodnesse and vertue alone.'
         Quod I, `shulde al my longe travayle have no reward but thorow



|p136


      grace? And som-tyme your-selven sayd, rightwisnesse evenliche
      rewardeth, to quyte oon benefit for another.'
         `That is sothe,' quod Love, `ever as I sayde, as to him that
  120 doth good, which to done he were neyther holden ne yet con_strayned.'

         `That is sothe,' quod I.
         `Trewly,' quod she, `al that ever thou doest to thyne Margaryte_perle,
      of wil, of love, and of reson thou owest to done it; it is
  125 nothing els but yelding of thy dette in quytinge of thy grace, which
      she thee lente whan ye first mette.'
         `I wene,' quod I, `right litel grace to me she delivered.
      Certes, it was harde grace; it hath nyghe me astrangled.'
         `That it was good grace, I wot wel thou wilt it graunte, er
  130  thou departe hence. If any man yeve to another wight, to whom
      that he ought not, and whiche that of him-selfe nothing may
      have, a garnement or a cote, though he were the cote or els
      thilke clothing, it is not to putte to him that was naked the cause
      of his clothinge, but only to him that was yever of the garnement.
  135 Wherfore I saye, thou that were naked of love, and of thy-selfe
      non have mightest, it is not to putte to thyne owne persone,
      sithen thy love cam thorow thy Margaryte-perle. Ergo, she was
      yever of the love, although thou it use; and there lente she thee
      grace, thy service to beginne. She is worthy the thank of this
  140 grace, for she was the yever. Al the thoughtes, besy doinges,
      and plesaunce in thy might and in thy wordes that thou canst
      devyse, ben but right litel in quytinge of thy dette; had she not
      ben, suche thing hadde not ben studyed. So al these maters
      kyndly drawen hom-ward to this Margaryte-perle, for from thence
  145 were they borowed; al is hoolly her to wyte, the love that thou
      havest; and thus quytest thou thy dette, in that thou stedfastly
      servest. And kepe wel that love, I thee rede, that of her thou
      hast borowved, and use it in her service thy dette to quyte; and
      than art thou able right sone to have grace; wherfore after mede
  150 in none halve mayst thou loke. Thus thy ginning and ending is
      but grace aloon; and in thy good deserving thy dette thou
      aquytest; without grace is nothing worth, what-so-ever thou



|p137


      werche. Thanke thy Margaryte of her grete grace that hiderto
      thee hath gyded, and praye her of continuaunce forth in thy
  155 werkes herafter; and that, for no mishappe, thy grace over_thwartly
      tourne. Grace, glorie, and joye is coming thorow good
      folkes desertes; and by getting of grace, therin shullen ende.
      And what is more glorie or more joye than wysdom and love
      in parfit charit, whiche god hath graunted to al tho that wel
  160 conne deserve?' And with that this lady al at ones sterte in-to
      my herte: `here wol I onbyde,' quod she, `for ever, and never
      wol I gon hence; and I wol kepe thee from medlinge while me
      liste here onbyde; thyne entermeting maners in-to stedfastnesse
      shullen be chaunged.'


                          CHAPTER VIII.

      |r<b> SOBERLICHE tho threw I up myn eyen, and hugely tho was
         I astonyed of this sodayne adventure; and fayn wolde I have
      lerned, how vertues shuldern ben knowen; in whiche thinges,
      I hope to god, here-after she shal me enfourmen; and namely,
   5  sithen her restinge-place is now so nygh at my wil; and anon al
      these thinges that this lady said, I remembred me by my-selfe, and
      revolved the lynes of myne understondinge wittes. Tho found
      I fully al these maters parfitly there written, how mis-rule by
      fayned love bothe realmes and citees hath governed a greet
  10  throwe; how lightly me might the fautes espye; how rules in love
      shulde ben used; how somtyme with fayned love foule I was
      begyled; how I shulde love have knowe; and how I shal in love
      with my service procede. Also furthermore I found, of perdurable
      letters wonderby there graven, these maters whiche I shal nempne.
  15  Certes, non age ne other thing in erthe may the leest sillable of
      this in no poynte deface, but clerely as the sonne in myne under_standinge
      soule they shynen. This may never out of my mynde,
      how I may not my love kepe, but thorow willinge in herte; wilne
      to love may I not, but I lovinge have. Love have I non, but
  20  thorow grace of this Margarite-perle. It is no maner doute, that
      wil wol not love but for it is lovinge, as wil wol not rightfully but



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      for it is rightful it-selve. Also wil is not lovinge for he wol love;
      but he wol love for he is lovinge; it is al oon to wilne to be
      lovinge, and lovinges in possession to have. Right so wil wol not
  25  love, for of love hath he no partie. And yet I denye not lovinge
      wil [may] wilne more love to have, whiche that he hath not whan
      he wolde more than he hath; but I saye, he may no love wilne
      if he no love have, through which thilke love he shuld wilne. But
      to have this loving wil may no man of him-selfe, but only through
  30  grace toforn-going; right so may no man it kepe, but by grace
      folowinge. Consider now every man aright, and let seen if that
      any wight of him-selfe mowe this loving wel gete, and he therof
      first nothing have; for if it shulde of him-selfe springe, either it
      muste be willing or not willing. Willing by him-selfe may he it not
  35  have, sithen him fayleth the mater that shulde it forth bringe.
      The mater him fayleth; why? He may therof have no knowing
      til whan grace put it in his herte. Thus willing by him-selfe may
      he it not have; and not willing, may he it not have. Pard,
      every conseyt of every resonable creature otherwyse wil [wol] not
  40  graunte; wil in affirmatif with not willing by no way mowe acorde.
      And although this loving wol come in myn herte by freenesse of
      arbitrement, as in this booke fully is shewed, yet owe I not therfore
      as moche alowe my free wil as grace of that Margaryte to me
      lened. For neyther might I, without grace to-forn going and
  45  afterward folowing, thilke grace gete ne kepe; and lese shal I it
      never but if free wil it make, as in willinge otherwyse than grace
      hath me graunted. For right as whan any person taketh willing
      to be sobre, and throweth that away, willing to be dronke; or els
      taketh wil of drinking out of mesure; whiche thing, anon as it is
  50  don, maketh (thorow his owne gilte by free wil) that [he] leseth
      his grace. In whiche thing therfore upon the nobley of grace
      I mote trusten, and my besy cure sette thilke grace to kepe, that
      my free wil, otherwyse than by reson it shulde werche, cause not
      my grace to voyde: for thus must I bothe loke to free wil and to
  55  grace. For right as naturel usage in engendring of children may
      not ben without fader, ne also but with the moder, for neyther
      fader ne moder in begetting may it lacke; right so grace and



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      free wil accorden, and withoute hem bothe may not lovinge wil in
      no partie ben getten. But yet is not free wil in gettinge of that
  60  thing so mokel thank-worthy as is grace, ne in the kepinge therof
      so moche thank deserveth; and yet in gettinge and keping bothe
      don they accorde. Trewly, often-tyme grace free wil helpeth, in
      fordoinge of contrarye thinges, that to willinge love not accorden,
      and strengtheth wil adversitees to withsitte; wherfore al-togider
  65  to grace oweth to ben accepted, that my willing deserveth. Free
      wil to lovinge in this wyse is accorded. I remembre me wel how
      al this book (who-so hede taketh) considereth [how] al thinges to
      werchinges of mankynde evenly accordeth, as in turning of this
      worde `love ' in-to trouthe or els rightwisnesse, whether that it
  70  lyke. For what thing that falleth to man in helping of free
      arbitrement, thilke rightwisnesse to take or els to kepe, thorow
      whiche a man shal be saved (of whiche thing al this book mencion
      hath maked), in every poynte therof grace oweth to be thanked.
      Wherfore I saye, every wight havinge this rightwisnesse rightful
  75  is; and yet therfore I fele not in my conscience, that to al
      rightful is behoten the blisse everlastinge, but to hem that ben right_ful
      withouten any unrightfulnesse. Some man after some degree
      may rightfully ben accompted as chaste men in living, and yet ben
      they janglers and ful of envy pressed; to hem shal this blisse
  80  never ben delivered. For right as very blisse is without al maner
      nede, right so to no man shal it be yeven but to the rightful, voyde
      from al maner unrightfulnesse founde; so no man to her blisse
      shal ben folowed, but he be rightful, and with unrightfulnesse not
      bounde, and in that degree fully be knowe. This rightfulnesse,
  85  in as moche as in him-selfe is, of none yvel is it cause; and of al
      maner goodnesse, trewly, it is moder. This helpeth the spirit
      to withsitte the leude lustes of flesshly lykinge. This strengtheth
      and maintayneth the lawe of kynde; and if that otherwhyle me
      weneth harm of this precious thing to folowe, therthorough is [it]
  90  nothing the cause; of somwhat els cometh it aboute, who-so
      taketh hede. By rightfulnesse forsothe wern many holy sayntes
      good savour in swetenesse to god almighty; but that to some
      folkes they weren savour of dethe, in-to deedly ende, that com
      not of the sayntes rightwisnesse, but of other wicked mennes



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  95  badnesse hath proceded. Trewly, the ilke wil, whiche that the
      lady of Love me lerned `affeccion of wil ' to nempne, which is
      in willing of profitable thinges, yvel is it not, but whan to flesshly
      lustes it consenteth ayenst reson of soule. But that this thing
      more clerely be understande, it is for to knowe, whence and how
  100 thilke wil is so vicious, and so redy yvel dedes to perfourme.
      Grace at the ginninge ordeyned thilke wil in goodnesse ever to
      have endured, and never to badnesse have assented. Men shulde
      not byleve, that god thilke wil maked to be vicious [in] our firste
      faders, as Adam and Eve; for vicious appetytes, and vicious wil
  105 to suche appetytes consentinge, ben not on thing in kynde; other
      thing is don for the other. And how this wil first in-to man first
      assented, I holde it profitable to shewe; but if the first condicion
      of resonable creature wol be considred and apertly loked, lightly
      the cause of suche wil may be shewed. Intencion of god was,
  110 that rightfully and blissed shulde resonable nature ben maked,
      himselfe for to kepe; but neyther blisful ne rightful might it not
      be, withouten wil in them bothe. Wil of rightfulnesse is thilke
      same rightfulnesse, as here-to-forn is shewed; but wil of blisse
      is not thilke blisse, for every man hath not thilke blisse, in whom
  115 ihe wil therof is abydinge. In this blisse, after every under_standinge,
      is suffisaunce of covenable comoditees without any
      maner nede, whether it be blisse of aungels or els thilke that
      grace first in paradise suffred Adam to have. For al-though
      angels blisse be more than Adams was in paradyse, yet may it not
  120 be denyed, that Adam in paradyse ne had suffisaunce of blisse;
      for right as greet herte is without al maner of coldenesse, and yet
      may another herte more hete have; right so nothing defended
      Adam in paradyse to ben blessed, without al maner nede,
      Al-though aungels blisse be moche more, forsothe, it foloweth
  125 not [that], lasse than another to have, therfore him nedeth; but
      for to wante a thing whiche that beloveth to ben had, that may
      `nede' ben cleped; and that was not in Adam at the first
      ginning. God and the Margaryte weten what I mene. Forsothe,
      where-as is nede, there is wrecchednesse. God without cause
  130  to-forngoing made not resonable creature wrecched; for him to



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      understande and love had he firste maked. God made therfore
      man blissed without al maner indigence; togider and at ones
      took resonable creature blisse, and wil of blissednesse, and wil
      of rightfulnesse, whiche is rightfulnesse it-selve, and libertee of
  135 arbitrement, that is, free wil, with whiche thilke rightfulnesse may
      he kepe and lese. So and in that wyse [god] ordayned thilke
      two, that wil (whiche that "instrument" is cleped, as here-toforn
      mencion is maked) shulde use thilke rightfulnesse, by teching of
      his soule to good maner of governaunce, in thought and in wordes;
  140 and that it shulde use the blisse in obedient maner, withouten
      any incommodit. Blisse, forsothe, in-to mannes profit, and
      rightwisnesse in-to his worship god delivered at ones; but rightful_nesse
      so was yeven that man might it lese, whiche if he not lost
      had, but continuelly [might] have it kept, he shulde have deserved
  145 the avauncement in-to the felowshippe of angels, in whiche thing
      if he that loste, never by him-selfe forward shulde he it mowe
      ayenward recovere; and as wel the blisse that he was in, as
      aungels blisse that to-him-wardes was coming, shulde be nome at
      ones, and he deprived of hem bothe. And thus fil man un-to
  150 lykenesse of unresonable bestes; and with hem to corrupcion and
      unlusty apetytes was he under-throwen. But yet wil of blisse
      dwelleth, that by indigence of goodes, whiche that he loste
      through greet wrecchednesse, by right shulde he ben punisshed.
      And thus, for he weyved rightfulnesse, lost hath he his blisse; but
  155 fayle of his desyr in his owne comodit may he not; and where
      comodites to his resonable nature whiche he hath lost may he not
      have, to false lustes, whiche ben bestial appetytes, he is turned.
      Folye of unconning hath him begyled, in wening that thilke ben
      the comoditees that owen to ben desyred. This affeccion of wil
  160 by libert of arbitrement is enduced to wilne thus thing that
      he shulde not; and so is wil not maked yvel but unrightful, by
      absence of rightfulnesse, whiche thing by reson ever shulde he
      have. And freenesse of arbitrement may he not wilne, whan he it
      not haveth; for while he it had, thilke halp it not to kepe; so
  165 that without grace may it not ben recovered. Wil of commodit,
      in-as-moche as unrightful it is maked by willinge of yvellustes, willing



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      of goodnesse may he not wilne; for wil of instrument to affec_cion
      of wil is thralled, sithen that other thing may it not wilne;
      for wil of instrument to affeccion desyreth, and yet ben bothe they
  170 `wil' cleped. For that instrument wol, through affeccion it wilneth;
      and affeccion desyreth thilke thing wherto instrument him ledeth.
      And so free wil to unlusty affeccion ful servaunt is maked, for
      unrightfulnesse may he not releve; and without rightfulnesse ful
      fredom may it never have. For kyndly libertee of arbitrement
  175 without it. veyne and ydel is, forsothe. Wherfore yet I say, (as
      often have I sayd the same), whan instrument of wil lost hath
      rightfulnesse, in no maner but by grace may he ayen retourne
      rightfulnesse to wilne. For sithen nothing but rightfulnesse alone
      shulde he wilne, what that ever he wilneth without rightfulnesse,
  180 unrightfully he it wilneth. These than unrightful appetytes and
      unthrifty lustes whiche the flesh desyreth, in as mokel as they ben
      in kynde, ben they nat bad; but they ben unrightful and badde for
      they ben in resonable creature, where-as they being, in no waye
      shulde ben suffred. In unresonable beestes neyther ben they yvel
  185 ne unrightful; for there is their kynde being.


                         CHAPTER IX.

      |r<b> KNOWEN may it wel ben now of these thinges toforn
         declareed that, that man hath not alway thilke rightfulnesse
      which by dut of right evermore haven he shulde, and by no way
      by him-selfe may he it gete ne kepe; and after he it hath, if he it
   5  lese, recover shal he it never without especial grace. Wherfore
      the comune sentence of the people in opinion, that every thing
      after destenee is ruled, false and wicked is to beleve. For though
      predestinacion be as wel of good as of badde, sithen that it is
      sayd, god hath destenees made, whiche he never ne wrought; but,
  10  for he suffreth hem to be maked, as that he hardeth, whan he
      naught missayth, or let in-to temptacion, whan he not delivereth:
      wherfore it is non inconvenient if in that maner be sayd, god to_forn
      have destenyed bothe badde and her badde werkes, whan
      hem ne their yvel dedes [he] neyther amendeth ne therto hem
  15  grace leneth. But specialliche, predestinacion of goodnesse



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      alone is sayd by these grete clerkes; for in him god doth that
      they ben, and that in goodnesse they werchen. But the negatif
      herof in badnesse is holden, as the Lady of Love hath me lerned,
      who-so aright in this booke loketh. And utterly it is to weten,
  20  that predestinacion properly in god may not ben demed, no more
      than beforn-weting. For in the chapitre of goddes beforn-weting,
      as Love me rehersed, al these maters apertly may ben founden.
      Al thinges to god ben now togider and in presence duringe.
      Trewly, presence and predestinacion in nothing disacorden;
  25  wherfore, as I was lerned how goddes before-weting and free
      choice of wil mowe stonden togider, me thinketh the same reson
      me ledeth, that destenye and free wil accorden, so that neyther of
      hem bothe to other in nothing contrarieth. And resonabliche
      may it not ben demed, as often as any thing falleth [thorow] free
  30  wil werching (as if a man another man wrongfully anoyeth, wher_fore
      he him sleeth, that it be constrayned to that ende, as mokel
      folk cryeth and sayth: `Lo, as it was destenyed of god toforn
      knowe, so it is thorow necessit falle, and otherwyse might it not
      betyde.' Trewly, neyther he that the wrong wrought, ne he that
  35  him-selfe venged, none of thilke thinges thorow necessit wrought;
      for if that [oon] with free wil there had it not willed, neyther had
      [he]wrought that he perfourmed; and so utterly grace, that free
      wil in goodnesse bringeth and kepeth, and fro badnesse it tourn_eth,
      in al thinge moste thank deserveth. This grace maketh
  40  sentence in vertue to abyde, wherfore in body and in soule, in ful
      plentee of conninge, after their good deserving in the everlastinge
      joye, after the day of dome shul they endelesse dwelle; and they
      shul ben lerned in that kingdom with so mokel affect of love and
      of grace, that the leste joye shal of the gretest in glorie rejoice
  45  and ben gladded, as if he the same joye had. What wonder,
      sith god is the gretest love and the * gretest wisdom? In hem
      shal he be, and they in god. Now than, whan al false folk be
      ashamed, which wenen al bestialt and erthly thing be sweter and
      letter to the body than hevenly is to the soule; this is the grace
  50  and thc frute that I long have desyred; it doth me good the
      savour to smelle.



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         Crist, now to thee I crye of mercy and of grace; and graunt,
      of thy goodnes, to every maner reder ful understanding in this
      leude pamflet to have; and bet no man wene other cause in
  55  this werke than is verily the soth. For envy is ever redy, al inno_centes
      to shende; wherfore I wolde that good speche envy
      evermore hinder.
         But no man wene this werke be sufficiently maked; for goddes
      werke passeth man[ne]s; no man[ne]s wit to parfit werke may by no
  60  way purvay th'ende. How shuld I than, so leude, aught wene of
      perfeccion any ende to gete? Never-the-later, grace, glorie, and
      laude I yelde and putte with worshipful reverences to the sothfast
      god, in three with unit closed, whiche that the hevy langour of
      my sicknesse hath turned in-to mirthe of helth to recover. For
  65  right as I was sorowed thorow the gloton cloud of manifolde
      sickly sorow, so mirth [of] ayencoming helth hath me glad[d]ed
      and gretly comforted. I beseche and pray therfore, and I crye
      on goddes gret pite and on his mokel mercy, that this[e] present
      scorges of my flessh mow maken medecyne and lechecraft of
  70  my inner man[ne]s helth; so that my passed trespas and tenes
      through weping of myn eyen ben wasshe, and I, voyded from
      al maner disese, and no more to wepe herafter, y-now be kept
      thorow goddes grace; so that goddes hand, whiche that merciably
      me hath scorged, herafter in good plite from thence merciably me
  75  kepe and defende.
         In this boke be many privy thinges wimpled and folde; unneth
      shul leude men the plites unwinde. Wherfore I pray to the holy
      gost, he lene of his oyntmentes, mennes wittes to clere; and, for
      goddes love, no man wonder why or how this question come to
  80  my mynde. For my greet lusty desyr was of this lady to ben
      enfourmed, my leudenesse to amende. Certes, I knowe not
      other mennes wittes, what I shulde aske, or in answere what
      I shulde saye; I am so leude my-selfe, that mokel more lerninge
      yet me beloveth. I have mad therfore as I coude, but not
  85  sufficiently as I wolde, and as mater yave me sentence; for my
      dul wit is hindred by stepmoder of foryeting and with cloude
      of unconning, that stoppeth the light of my Margarite-perle,
      wherfore it may not shyne on me as it shulde. I desyre not



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      only a good reder, but also I coveite and pray a good book_amender,
  90  in correccion of wordes and of sentence; and only this
      mede I coveite for my travayle, that every inseer and herer of
      this leude fantasye devoute horisons and prayers to god the greet
      juge yelden; and prayen for me in that wyse, that in his dome
      my sinnes mowe ben relesed and foryeven. He that prayeth for
  95  other for him-selfe travayleth.
      Also I praye, that every man parfitly mowe knowe thorow what
      intencion of herte this tretys have I drawe. How was it, that
      sightful manna in desserte to children of Israel was spirituel
      mete? Bodily also it was, for mennes bodies it norisshed;
  100 and yet, never-the-later, Crist it signifyed. Right so a jewel
      betokeneth a gemme, and that is a stoon vertuous or els a perle.
      Margarite, a woman, betokeneth grace, lerning, or wisdom of
      god, or els holy church. If breed, thorow vertue, is mad holy
      flesshe, what is that our god sayth? `It is the spirit that
  105 yeveth lyf; the flesshe, of nothing it profiteth.' Flesshe is flesshly
      understandinge; flessh without grace and love naught is worth.
      `The letter sleeth; the spirit yeveth lyfelich understanding.'
      Charit is love; and love is charit.
               God graunt us al[le] therin to be frended!
  110          And thus THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE is ended.
