|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 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 |p2 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 |p3 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 |p4 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 Bo‰ce, 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. |p5 CHAPTER I. |r 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 |p6 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. |p7 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 |p8 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! PardŠ, pitŠ 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 pitŠ of you alone; whiche thinges hastely god me graunt for his mercy! |p9 CHAPTER II. |r 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 pardŠ, 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 |p10 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? PardŠ, 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, |p11 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, pardŠ, 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 prosperitŠ? 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 renomŠ 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 GRETLY was I tho gladded of these wordes, and (as who saith) wexen somdel light in herte; both for the auctoritŠ 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, pardŠ, 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 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 auctoritŠ 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 felicitŠ 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 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 privytŠ, 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 countrŠ hath oon maner, and another countrŠ 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 dyversitŠ is required.' `Now,' quod she, `that is sothe; dyversitŠ of nation, dyversitŠ of lawe, as was maked by many resons; for that dyversitŠ 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 necessitŠ |p23 55 therof, or els the impossibilitŠ: 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 degrŠ in Rome, to be mayster of al erthly princes; and Eneas from hel, to be king of |p25 130 the countrŠ 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 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 qualitŠ 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 adversitŠ, 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 prosperitŠ is pur_vayed in-to his confusion; and upon this mater many autoritŠs of many and greet-witted clerkes they alegen. And some men 30 sayn, though al good estimacion forsake folk that han adversitŠ, yet is it meryte and encrees of his blisse; so that these purposes arn so wonderful in understanding, that trewly, for myn adversitŠ 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 degrŠ 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 citŠ, 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 tranquilitŠ, 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 auctoritŠ 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 citŠ, 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 secrŠ 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 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 `PardŠ,' 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 secrŠ 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, pardŠ, 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 privitŠ 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 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 vanitŠ 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 pitŠ, [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 chastitŠ 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 privŠ 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 prosperitŠ 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 previtŠ 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 perpetualtŠ 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 renomŠ everlasting. Therfore boldely renomŠ 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 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, principalitŠ 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 qualitŠ 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 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 degrŠ 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 dignitŠ 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, frayltŠ 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 prosperitŠ 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? PardŠ, 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 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 unitŠ 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 renomŠ, 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 diversitŠ 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 divinitŠ lerned, proved thilke fayth with 45 resones, and with auctoritŠs 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 auctoritŠs alone; sithen that suche [arn] heretikes 55 and maintaynours of falsitŠs. 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 auctoritŠ, 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 authoritŠ 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 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 pitŠ; 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 prosperitŠ 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 propinquitŠ 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? PardŠ, 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 necessitŠ 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 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 principaltŠ 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 propertŠ 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 freeltŠ 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 libertŠ 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 falsetŠ 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 pitŠ 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 privitŠ 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 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 dignitŠ, |p58 of power, and of renomŠ, 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, aignitŠ, renomŠ, 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 dignitŠ, 65 honour and reverence of hem that wern underput by maistry therby to obeye. In renomŠ, glorie of peoples praising, after lustes in their hert, without hede-taking to qualitŠ 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, pardŠ,' 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 renomŠ, 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 renomŠ, 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 dignitŠ worship, and in renomŠ 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 `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 dignitŠ than his thinge caused; wherthrough it foloweth richesse to ben more in dignitŠ 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 quantitŠ than after the qualitŠ; 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 superfluitŠ 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 meynŠ, 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 HONOUR in dignitŠ is wened to yeven a ful knot.' `Ye, certes,' quod I, `and of that opinion ben many; for they sayn, dignitŠ, with honour and reverence, causen hertes to encheynen, and so abled to be knit togither, for the excellence 5 in soverayntŠ of such degrees.' `Now,' quod she, `if dignitŠ, 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 dignitŠ, 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 dignitŠ? 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 citŠ 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 dignitŠ 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 dignitŠ suche thing in tene y-wrought, so ayenward, the substaunce in dignitŠ 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 dignitŠ is betake in a good mannes governaunce, what thing is to recken in the dignitees goodnesse? PardŠ, 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 dignitŠ bycause of encresinge vertue in the occupyer, and not to the ruler bycause of soverayntee in dignitŠ. Sithen dignitŠ may no vertue cause, who is worthy worship for suche goodnesse? Not dignitŠ, but person, that maketh goodnesse in 50 dignitŠ to shyne.' `This is wonder thing,' quod I; `for me thinketh, as the person in dignitŠ is worthy honour for goodnesse, so, tho[ugh] a person for badnesse ma[u]gree hath deserved, yet the dignitŠ leneth to be commended.' 55 `Let be,' quod she, `thou errest rightt foule; dignitŠ with badnesse is helper to performe the felonous doing. Pardy, were it kyndly good, or any propertŠ 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, |p67 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 dignitŠ 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 soveraintŠ 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 privitŠ of his 80 engendrure. Herodes, for his dignitŠ, shew many children. The dignitŠ of king John wolde have distroyed al England. Therfore mokel wysdom and goodnesse both, nedeth in a person, the malice in dignitŠ 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 dignitŠ, 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 citŠ, 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 beautŠ in kyndly shyning fayled; wherfore dignitŠ 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 dignitŠ have no reverence. Than 135 neither worshippe ne reverence is kyndely propre in no dignitŠ, 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 dignitŠ is shewed, but it proveth that goodnesse kyndely in hem 140 is not grounded. I-wis, neither worshippe, ne reverence, ne good_nesse in dignitŠ 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 dignitŠ 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 dignitŠ, 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 dignitŠ 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 AVAYLETH aught (quod she) power of might in maynten_aunce of [men, to maken hem] worthy to come to this knot?' `PardŠ,' 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 |p71 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 prosperitŠ, 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 |p73 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. PardŠ, 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, dignitŠ, 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 renomŠ shuld as wel knitte a shrewe as a good person; renomŠ in every degree hath avaunced; yet wist I never the contrarye. Shulde than renomŠ 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 renomŠ 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 renomŠ; 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 qualitŠ acorden by 45 quabitŠ. 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 renomŠ 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 renomŠ no way to the knot. Lo, foole,' quod she, `how clerkes wryten of suche glorie of renomŠ: -- |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 renomŠ 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 renomŠ 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 renomŠ 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 renomŠ desyreth, to wete, lesse folk praisen than 85 renomŠ 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, renomŠ 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 renomŠ that come of thyne auncestres desertes: and if so be that praysing and renomŠ 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 dignetŠ, richesse, renomŠ, and power, if thou loke clerely, arn no wayes to the knotte.' CHAPTER IX. |r `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 quantitŠ 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 jolitŠ 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? PardŠ, 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 necessitŠ 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 `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 dignitŠ to be reverenced in worship. Power me thought that I had to kepe fro myne enemyes, and me semed to shyne in glorie of renomŠ 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 povertŠ; for dignitŠ, now am I emprisoned; in stede of power, wrecchednesse I suffre; and for glorie of renomŠ, 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 plentŠ 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 renomŠ of peoples praysing may he nat have; overal he is hated and defamed of thinges right foule. Another is fair and semely, but dignitŠ him fayleth; and he that 75 hath dignitŠ 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 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 "felicitŠ 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, dignitŠ, 30 and renomŠ 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 dignitŠ to have worship and reverence? And hath he nat glorie of renomŠ, 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 dignitŠ to sette at nought al thinges, here it is a greet dignitŠ, that deth may a-maistry, Wher_fore thilke power [with] suffisaunce, so enclosed with dignitŠ, by 65 al reson renomŠ must have. This is thilke riches with suffisaunce ye sholde loke after; this is thilke worshipful dignitŠ ye shulde coveyte; this is thilke power of might, in whiche ye shulde truste; this is the ilke renomŠ 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. UnitŠ 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. PardŠ, 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 |p91 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 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 auctoritŠ 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 `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 qualitŠ 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 dualitŠ, 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; unitŠ 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 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 pitŠ 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 pitŠ 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 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 quantitŠ 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 privŠ 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 unitŠ 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' entrŠ, 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 `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, authoritŠs 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 quantitŠ in doinge, by mede to rewarde; and of necessitŠ 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 "necessitŠ" 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 libertŠ 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 necessitŠ of rightwisnesse was therfore free choice of arbitrement put in mans proper disposicion. Truely, if it were otherwyse, it contraried goddes charitŠ, that badnesse and goodnesse rewardeth after desert of payne or of mede.' `Me thinketh this wonder,' quod I; `for god by necessitŠ 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_sitŠ 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 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 libertŠ 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 impossibilitŠ,' quod I. 15 `So,' quod she, `I shal. Now I suppose that they mowe stande togider: prescience of god, whom foloweth necessitŠ of thinges comming, and libertŠ of arbitrement, thorow whiche thou belevest many thinges to be without necessitŠ.' `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 necessitŠ, and god wot that toforn; for al thing comming he before wot, and that he beforn wot of necessitŠ is comming, as he beforn wot be the case by necessary maner; or els, thorow 30 necessitŠ, is somthing to be without necessitŠ; and wheder, to every wight that hath good understanding, is seen these thinges to be repugnaunt: prescience of god, whiche that foloweth neces_sitŠ, and libertŠ of arbitrement, fro whiche is removed necessitŠ? For truely, it is necessary that god have forweting of thing withouten 35 any necessitŠ cominge.' |p112 `Ye,' quod I; `but yet remeve ye nat away fro myne under_standing the necessitŠ folowing goddes be foreweting, as thus. God beforn wot me in service of love to be bounden to this Margarite_perle, and therfore by necessitŠ thus to love am I bounde; and 40 if I had nat loved, thorow necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ." And so foloweth, whether thou love or not love, every of hem is and shal be. But now thou seest the impos_sibilitŠ of the case, and the possibilitŠ 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_cessitŠ, whan it is said, th[r]ough necessitŠ it is me in love to abyde, or not to love without necessitŠ for god beforn wot it. This maner of necessitŠ forsothe semeth to some men in-to co_accion, that is to sayne, constrayning, or else prohibicion, that is, 55 defendinge; wherfore necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ me semeth to love, for I love; or els not to love, if I not love; wherthrough neither thank ne 60 maugrŠ in tho thinges may I deserve.' `Now,' quod she, `thou shalt wel understande, that often we sayn thing thorow necessitŠ to be, that by no strength to be neither is coarted ne constrayned; and through necessitŠ not to be, that with no defendinge is removed. For we sayn it is 65 thorow necessitŠ god to be immortal, nought deedliche; and it is necessitŠ, 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 necessitŠ 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 libertŠ 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 libertŠ 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 necessitŠ is thilke thing to be com_ming; al is oon if I sey, it shal be. But this necessitŠ neither constrayneth ne defendeth any-thing to be or nat to be. Therfore sothly, if love is put to be, it is said of necessitŠ to be; or els, for it is put nat to be, it is affirmed nat to be of necessitŠ; nat for that 90 necessitŠ constrayneth or defendeth love to be or nat to be. For whan I say, if love shal be, of necessitŠ it shal be, here foloweth necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ; 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. DyversitŠ in setting of wordes maketh dyversitŠ 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 libertŠ of wil, my herte wil now nat acorde this service to love. I can demin in my-selfe non otherwise but thorow necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ, 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 necessitŠ, 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 necessitŠ, 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 "necessitŠ," 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 necessitŠ, al thing comming is comming; but that is by necessitŠ foloweth, with nothing to be constrayned. 165 Lo! whan that "comming" is said of thinge, nat alway thing thorow necessitŠ is, altho[ugh] it be comming. For if I say, "to_morowe love is comming in this Margarites herte," nat therfore thorow necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ, that is sayd "to come"; as if I say, to-morowe be comminge the rysinge of the sonne. If therfore with necessitŠ I pronounce comming of thing to come, in this maner love to-morne comminge in thyne MargaritŠ to thee_ward, by necessitŠ is comminge; or els the rysing of the sonne 175 to-morne comminge, through necessitŠ is comminge. Love sothely, whiche may nat be of necessitŠ alone folowinge, thorow necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ, comminge it is. Arysing of the sonne, thorow 180 two necessitŠs in comming, it is to understande; that oon is to_for[e]going necessitŠ, whiche maketh thing to be; therfore it shal be, for nedeful is that it be. Another is folowing necessitŠ, whiche |p116 nothing constrayneth to be, and so by necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ to be comming: for al-tho[ugh] god toforn wot al thinges comming, yet nat therfore he beforn wot every thing comming thorow necessitŠ. Some thinges he beforn wot com_ming of free wil out of resonable creature.' 195 `Certes,' quod I, `these termes "nede" and "necessitŠ" 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 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 necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ is mannes werke in loving, that he wol do altho[ugh] he wol it nat with necessitŠ.' 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 necessitŠ, 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 necessitŠ, right so is not love of wil thorow necessitŠ; ne thorow necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ maketh libertŠ 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 necessitŠ from free wil discended. Hereby may (quod she) lightly ben knowe that not al thinges to be, is of necessitŠ, though god have hem in his prescience. For som thinges to be, is of libertŠ 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 necessitŠ to aI thinges whiche 65 he wot or before-wot; ne thing, after eternite or els after any tyme, he wol or doth of libertŠ, but al of necessitŠ: whiche thing if thou wene it be ayenst reson, [than is] nat thorow necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ but thorow libertŠ of wil, save necessitŠ 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 libertŠ of wil, and also thorow necessitŠ. 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.' |p119 `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 dyversitŠ 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 necessitŠ comminge for it is comming, and yet with no necessitŠ constrayned to be comming, but with necessitŠ 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 libertŠ or els of necessitŠ; 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 libertŠ 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 libertŠ 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 |p121 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_rioritŠ or prioritŠ 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 eternitŠ 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 |p122 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 eternitŠ, than nat to be in any tyme and to be alway in 210 eternitŠ; 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 eternitŠ 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 |p123 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 eternitŠ, 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 nycetŠ 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 `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.' |p125 `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 propertŠ 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 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, pardŠ,' 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 libertŠ 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 falsitŠ 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 `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 yvŠ-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 charitŠ, 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 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 |p138 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. PardŠ, 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 |p139 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 |p140 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 |p141 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 incommoditŠ. 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 comoditŠ 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 libertŠ 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 commoditŠ, in-as-moche as unrightful it is maked by willinge of yvellustes, willing |p142 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 KNOWEN may it wel ben now of these thinges toforn declareed that, that man hath not alway thilke rightfulnesse which by dutŠ 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 |p143 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 necessitŠ 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 necessitŠ 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 bestialtŠ 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. |p144 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 unitŠ 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 |p145 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.' CharitŠ is love; and love is charitŠ. God graunt us al[le] therin to be frended! 110 And thus THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE is ended.