1098aȝeinewarde al—ayeinward alle1099it—hyt1101whan—whathaþ—MS. haþelorn—MS. lorne, C. lost1102yspranid—spraynydbitternesses—beternesses1104hym—hemit—hytbe—ben1105goþ—MS. geþewol—woolesen—MS. sene1107dwelliþ—dureth1109folkes—folke1110oute—owt1112shortly—shortely1114wilt—MS. wilte, C. woltif—yif1117by-nyme—be-neme1118blisfulnesse[ne]—blyssefulnesse ne1120to gidir—to gidere1121, 1122souereyne goode—souereyn good1125wele—wel1126receyue—resseyuen1129 [it]—from C.it—hyt1130be—ben1131blyndenesse—blyndnesse1134it—hytseiþ—MS. seiþe, C. seyth1135wot—MS. wote, C. wotleese(2)—leese itwhiche—which1136haþ—MS. haþe1137ellys—omittedwene—weneth1138hit—omitted1139goode—goodborn—MS. borne, C. bornhert[e]—herte1140seyne—seyndon—MS. done, C. doforce—fors1142haþ—MS. haþe1143many[e]—manye1144mowen—mowedien—deyen1145clere—cleercerteyne—certeyn1147al—alle1150haþ—MS. haþefruit—frut1152myȝt[e]—myhte1153make—makenself[e]—selueRICHES HAVE NO INTRINSIC VALUE.[The ferthe metur.]QUISQUIS UOLET2PERHENNEM CAUTUS.2MS. ualet.What manerHe who would have a stable and lasting seat must not build upon lofty hills; nor upon the sands, if he would escape the violence of winds and waves.man stableandwar þat wil founden hyma perdurable seteandne wil not be cast doune1156wiþ þe loude blastes of þe wynde Eurus.andwil dispiseþe see manassynge wiþ floodes ¶ Lat hym eschewe tobilde on þe cop of þe mountayngne. or in þe moystesandes. ¶ For þe fel[le] wynde auster tourmenteþ þe cop1160of þe mountayngne wiþ alle his strengþes. ¶ and þelowe see sandes refuse to beren þe heuy weyȝte.If thou wilt flee perilous fortune, lay thy foundation upon the firmer stone, so that thou mayst grow old in thy stronghold.andforþi yif þou wolt flee þe perilous auenture þat is toseine of þe worlde ¶ Haue mynde certeynly to ficchyn1164þi house of a myrie site in a lowe stoone. ¶ For alþouȝ þe wynde troublyng þe see þondre wiþ ouereþrowynges¶ Þou þat art put inquieteandwelful bystrengþe of þi palys shalt leden a cleer age. scornyng1168þe wodenesses and þe Ires of þe eir.1155, 1156, 1157wil—wole1156be cast—MS. be caste, C. ben cast1157wynde—wynd1158eschewe—eschewen1160fel[le]—felle1161his—hise1162lowe—lavsesee—omittedrefuse—refusenweyȝte—wyhte1163flee—fleen1164seine—seyn1165þi—thinlowe stoone—lowh stoon1167welful—weleful1169wodenesses—woodnessesGLORY NOT IN RICHES; THEY ADD NOTHING TO VIRTUE.[The fyfthe prose.]SET CUM RACIONUMIAM IN TE.But for asIt is now time to use stronger medicines, since lighter remedies have taken effect.moche as þe noryssinges of my resounsdescenden now in to þe. I trowe it were tyme tovsen a litel strenger medicynes.What is there in the gifts of Fortune that is not vile and despicable?¶ Now vndirstonde1172here al were it so þat þe ȝiftis of fortune nar[e] natbrutel ne transitorie. what is þer in hem þat may be[* fol. 12.]þine *in any tyme. or ellis þat it nys foule if þat it beconsideredandlokid perfitely.Are riches precious in themselves, or in men’s estimation?¶ Richesse ben þei1176preciouse by þe nature of hem self. or ellys by þenature of þe.What is most precious in them, quantity or quality?What is most worþi of rycchesse. is itnat golde or myȝt of moneye assembled.Bounty is more glorious than niggardliness.¶ Certisþilke goldeandþilke moneye shineþandȝeueþ better1180renounto hem þat dispenden it. þen to þilke folke þatmokeren it.Avarice is always hateful, while liberality is praise-worthy.For auarice makeþ alwey mokeres to behated.andlargesse makeþ folke clere of renoun¶ For syn þat swiche þing as is transfered from o1184man to an oþer ne may nat dwellen wiþ no man.Money cannot be more precious than when it is dispensed liberally to others.Certis þan is þilke moneye precious. whan it is translatedin to oþer folk.andstynteþ to ben had byvsage of large ȝeuyng of hym þat haþ ȝeuen it.If one man’s coffers contained all the money in the world, every one else would be in want of it.and1188also yif al þe moneye þat is ouer-al in þe world weregadered towar[d] o man. it sholde maken al oþer mento ben nedy as of þat. ¶ And certys a voys al hoolþat is to seyn wiþ-oute amenusynge fulfilleþ to gyder1192þe heryng of myche folke.Riches cannot be dispensed without diminution.but Certys ȝoure rycchessene mowen nat passen vnto myche folk wiþ-oute amenussyng¶ And whan þei ben apassed. nedys þei makenhem pore þat forgon þe rycchesses.O the poverty of riches, that cannot be enjoyed by many at the same time, nor can be possessed by one without impoverishing others!¶ O streiteand1196nedy clepe I þise rycchesses. syn þat many folke [ne]may nat han it al. ne al may it nat comen to on manwiþ-oute pouerte of al oþer folke. ¶ And þe shynyngeof gemmes þat I clepe preciouse stones. draweþ it nat1200þe eyen of folk in to hem warde. þat is to seyne for þebeaute.The beauty of precious stones consists only in their brightness, wherefore I marvel that men admire that which is motionless, lifeless, and irrational.¶ For certys yif þer were beaute or bountein shynyng of stones. þilke clerenesse is of þe stoneshem self.andnat of men. ¶ For whiche I wondre1204gretly þat men merueilen on swiche þinges. ¶ Forwhi what þing is it þat yif it wanteþ moeuyngandioynture of souleandbody þat by ryȝt myȝt[e] semena faire creature to hym þat haþ a soule of resoun.1208Precious stones are indeed the workmanship of the Creator, but their beauty is infinitely below the excellency of man’s nature.¶ For al be it so þat gemmes drawen to hem self alitel of þe laste beaute of þe worlde. þoruȝ þe ententof hir creatourandþoruȝ þe distincciounof hem self.ȝit for as myche as þei ben put vndir ȝoure excellence.1212þei han not desserued by no weye þat ȝe shullenmerueylen on hem.Doth the beauty of the field delight thee?¶ And þe beaute of feeldes deliteþit nat mychel vnto ȝow.B.Why should it not? for it is a beautiful part of a beautiful whole.Boyce.¶ Whi sholde it natdeliten vs. syn þat it is a ryȝt fayr porciounof þe ryȝt1216fair werk. þat is to seyn of þis worlde.Hence, we admire the face of the sea, the heavens, as well as the sun, moon, and stars.¶ And ryȝtso ben we gladed somtyme of þe face of þe see whanit is clere. And also merueylen we on þe heueneandon þe sterres.andon þe sonne.andon þe mone.1220P.Do these things concern thee? darest thou glory in them?Philosophie.¶ Apperteineþ quod she any of þilkeþinges to þe. whi darst þou glorifie þe in þe shynyngeof any swiche þinges.Do the flowers adorn you with their variety?Art þou distingwedandembelisedby þe spryngyng floures of þe first somer1224sesoun. or swelliþ þi plente in fruytes of somer. whiart þou rauyshed wiþ ydel ioies.Why embracest thou things wherein thou hast no property?why enbracest þoustraunge goodes as þei weren þine.Fortune can never make that thine which the nature of things forbids to be so.Fortune shal neuermaken þat swiche þinges ben þine þat nature of þinges1228maked foreyne fro þe.The fruits of the earth are designed for the support of beasts.¶ Syche is þat wiþ-outendoute þe fruytes of þe erþe owen to ben on þenorssinge of bestes.If you seek only the necessities of nature, the affluence of Fortune will be useless.¶ And if þou wilt fulfille þinede after þat it suffiseþ to nature þan is it no nede1232þat þou seke after þe superfluite of fortune.Nature is content with a little, and superfluity will be both disagreeable and hurtful.¶ Forwiþ ful fewe þingesandwithful lytel þing naturehalt hire appaied.andyif þou wilt achoken þe fulfillyngof nature wiþ superfluites ¶ Certys þilke1236þinges þat þou wilt þresten or pouren in to natureshullen ben vnioyeful to þe or ellis anoies.Does it add to a man’s worth to shine in variety of costly clothing?¶ Wenestþou eke þat it be a fair þinge to shine wiþ dyuersecloþing.The things really to be admired are the beauty of the stuff or the workmanship of it.of whiche cloþing yif þe beaute be agreable1240to loken vpon. I wol merueylen on þe nature of þematere of þilke cloþes. or ellys on þe werkeman þatwrouȝt[e] hem.Doth a great retinue make thee happy?but al so a longe route of meyne. makiþ[* fol. 12b.]þat a blisful *man.If thy servants be vicious, they are a great burden to the house, and pernicious enemies to the master of it.þe whiche seruauntes yif þei ben1244vicioũs of condiciouns it is a greet chargeandadestrucciounto þe house.anda greet enmye to þe lordehym selfIf they be good, why should the probity of others be put to thy account?¶Andyif þei ben goode men how shalstraung[e] or foreyne goodenes ben put in þe noumbre1248of þi rycchesse.Upon the whole, then, none of those enjoyments which thou didst consider as thy own did ever properly belong to thee.so þat by alle þise forseide þinges. it isclerly shewed þat neuer none of þilke þinges þat þouaccoumptedest for þin goodes nas nat þi goode.If they be not desirable,¶ Inþe whiche þinges yif þer be no beaute to ben desired.1252RICHES BRING ANXIETIES.why shouldst thou grieve for the loss of them?whi sholdest þou be sory yif þou leese hem. or whisholdest þou reioysen þe to holden hem.If they are fair by nature, what is that to thee?¶ For if þeiben fair of hire owen kynde. what apperteneþ þat to þe.They would be equally agreeable whether thine or not.for as wel sholde þei han ben faire by hem self.1256þouȝ þei werendepartid from alle þin rycchesse.They are not to be reckoned precious because they are counted amongst thy goods, but because they seemed so before thou didst desire to possess them.¶ For-whyfaire ne precioũs ne weren þei nat. for þat þeicomen amonges þi rycchesse. but for þei semeden fairandprecious. þerfore þou haddest leuer rekene hem1260amonges þi rycchesse.What, then, is it we so clamorously demand of Fortune?but what desirest þou of fortunewiþ so greet a noyseandwiþ so greet a fareIs it to drive away indigence by abundance?¶ I trowe þou seke to dryue awey nede wiþ habundaunceof þinges.But the very reverse of this happens, for there is need of many helps to keep a variety of valuable goods.¶ But certys it turneþ to ȝow al in þe1264contrarie. for whi certys it nediþ of ful many[e] helpyngesto kepen þe dyuersite of preciouse ostelmentȝ.They want most things who have the most.and soþe it is þat of many[e] þinges han þei nede þatmany[e] þinges han.They want the fewest who measure their abundance by the necessities of nature, and not by the superfluity of their desires.andaȝeyneward of litel nediþ1268hem þat mesuren hir fille after þe nede of kyndeandnat after þe outrage of couetyseIs there no good planted within ourselves, that we are obliged to go abroad to seek it?¶ Is it þan so þat yemen ne han no propre goode. I-set in ȝow. Forwhiche ȝe moten seken outwardes ȝoure goodes in1272foreineandsubgit þinges.Are things so changed and inverted, that god-like man should think that he has no other worth but what he derives from the possession of inanimate objects?¶ So is þan þe condiciounof þinges turned vpso doun. þat a man þat is a devynebeest by merit of hys resoun. þinkeþ þat hymself nys neyþer fair ne noble. but if it be þoruȝ1276possessiounof ostelmentes. þat ne han no soules.IGNORANCE CRIMINAL IN MAN.Inferior things are satisfied with their own endowments, while man (the image of God) seeks to adorn his nature with things infinitely below him, not understanding how much he dishonours his Maker.¶ And certys al oþerþinges ben appaied of hire owenbeautes. but ȝe men þat ben semblable to god by ȝoureresonable þouȝt desiren to apparaille ȝoureexcellent1280kynde of þe lowest[e] pinges. ne ȝe ne vndirstonde nathow gret a wrong ȝe don to ȝoure creatour.God intended man to excel all earthly creatures, yet you debase your dignity and prerogative below the lowest beings.for hewolde þat man kynde were moost worþiandnoble ofany oþer erþely þinges. and ȝe þresten adounȝoure1284dignitees by-neþen þe lowest[e] þinges.In placing your happiness in despicable trifles, you acknowledge yourselves of less value than these trifles, and well do you merit to be so esteemed.¶ For if þat alþe good of euery þing be more preciouse þan is þilkþing whos þat þe good is. syn ȝe demen þat þefoulest[e] þinges ben ȝoure goodes. þanne summytten1288ȝeandputten ȝoure self vndir þo foulest[e] þinges byȝoure estimacioun. ¶ And certis þis bitidiþ nat wiþout ȝouredesert.Man only excels other creatures when he knows himself.For certys swiche is þe condiciounof al man kynde þat oonly whan it haþ knowyng of it1292self. þan passeþ it innoblesse alle oþer þinges.When he ceases to do so, he sinks below beasts.andwhan it forletiþ þe knowyng of it self. þan it isbrouȝt byneþen alle beestes.Ignorance is natural to beasts, but in men it is unnatural and criminal.¶ For-why alle oþer[leuynge] beestes han of kynde to knowe not hem1296self. but whan þat men leten þe knowyng of hem self.it comeþ hem of vice.How weak an error is it to believe that anything foreign to your nature can be an ornament to it.but how brode sheweþ þe errourandþe folie of ȝow men þat wenen þat ony þing mayben apparailled wiþ straunge apparaillementȝ ¶ but1300for-soþe þat may nat be don.If a thing appear beautiful on account of its external embellishments, we admire and praise those embellishments alone.for yif a wyȝt shyneþ wiþþinges þat ben put to hym. as þus. yif þilke þingesshynen wiþ whiche a man is apparailled. ¶ Certisþilke þinges ben commendidandpreised wiþ whiche1304he is apparailled.The thing covered still continues in its natural impurity.¶ But naþeles þe þing þat iscoueredandwrapped vndir þat dwelleþ in his filþe.I deny that to be a good which is hurtful to its owner.and I denye þat þilke þing be good þat anoyeþ hymþat haþ it.Am I deceived in this? You will say no; for riches have often hurt their possessors.¶ Gabbe I of þis. þou wolt seye nay.1308¶ Certys rycchesse han anoyed ful ofte hem þat han þerycchesse.Every wicked man desires another’s wealth, and esteems him alone happy who is in possession of riches.¶ Syn þat euery wicked shrewandforhys wickednesse þe more gredy aftir oþer folkes rycchessewher so euer it be in any place. be it golde or1312precious stones.[* fol. 13.]andweniþ hym *only most worþi þathaþ hemYou, therefore, who now so much dread the instruments of assassination, if you had been born a poor wayfaring man, might, with an empty purse, have sung in the face of robbers.¶ þou þan þat so besy dredest now þe swerdeandþe spere. yif þou haddest entred in þe paþe of þislijf a voide wayfaryng man. þan woldest þou syng[e]1316by-fore þe þeef. ¶ As who seiþ a poure man þat bereþno rycchesse on hym by þe weye. may boldly syng[e]byforne þeues. for he haþ nat wher-of to ben robbed.O the transcendant felicity of riches! No sooner have you obtained them, than you cease to be secure.¶ O preciouseandryȝt clere is þe blysfulnesse of1320mortal rycchesse. þat whanþou hast geten it. þan hastþou lorn þi syke[r]nesse.1172strenger—strengerevndirstonde—vndyrstond1173nar[e]—ne weere1174be þine—ben thyn1175foule—fowl1176Richesse—Rychessis1178rycchesse—rychesses1179, 1180golde—gold1180better—betere1181þen—thanne1182mokeres—mokereres1183folke clere—folk cler1184swiche—swichfrom—fram1187stynteþ—stenteth1188haþ—MS. haþe1189world—worlde1190al—alle1191al hool—omitted1193myche folke—moche folkerycchesse—rychesses1194myche—moche1196forgon—MS. forgone1197þise—thisrycchesses—rychesse[ne]—from C.1198on—o1199wiþ-oute—with-owtenal—allefolke—folke1200preciouse—presyous1201in—omittedwarde—wardseyne—seyn1202beaute(1)—beautesFor—but1203in—in the1204whiche—which1207ioynture—Ioyngture1208faire—fayrhaþ—MS. haþe1210laste—lastworlde—world1212myche—mochel1213desserued—MS. desseyued, C. desseruydweye—weyshullen—sholden1215mychel—mochel1217fair werk—fayrewerkeworlde—world1219clere—cler1222darst þou glorifie—darsthow gloryfyen1225in—in the1229Syche—Soth1230on—to1231, 1235, 1237wilt—wolt1238shullen—shollen1239fair—fayre1240whiche—which1242werkeman—werkman1246house—howslorde—lord1248goodenes—goodnesse1250shewed—I-shewydnone—oon1251þin—thinegoode—good1255fair—fayrehire owen—hyr owne1256sholde—sholdenself—selue1257þin rycchesse—thyne rychesses1259amonges—amonge1259, 1261rycchesse—Rychesses1259fair—fayre1260leuer rekene—leuere rekne1262greet(2)—grete1265, 1267many[e]—manye1267soþe—soth1272outwardes—owtward1276fair—fayreif—yif1278hire owen—hir owne1281ne(2)—omittedvndirstonde—vndyrstondyn1282gret—MS. grete, C. gret1284oþer erþely—oothre worldlyþresten—threste1285by-neþen—by-netheif—yif1286good—MS. goode, C. goodþing—thingepreciouse—presyosþilk þing—thilke thinge1287þe(2)—tho1288summytten—submitten1289self—seluenfoulest[e]—fowleste1290bitidiþ—tydeth1291out—owtedesert—desertes1292al—alle1293self—selue1294it is—is it1296 [leuynge]—from C.hem—hym1297þat—omitted1298comeþ—comth1299þing—thinge1302put—MS. putte, C. put1303whiche—which1306filþe—felthe1307þing—thingegood—MS. goode, C. good1308haþ—MS. haþe1309rycchesse—Rychessesþe—tho1310rycchesse—Rychessesshrew—shrewe1311rycchesse—rychesses1312golde—gold1314haþ—MS. haþe, C. hatbesy—bysyswerde—swerd1315paþe—paath1316wayfaryng—wayferyngesyng[e]—synge1317by-fore—by-fornseiþ—MS. seiþe, C. seythpoure—porebereþ—berth1318boldly syng[e]—boldely synge1319haþ—MS. haþe1320preciouse—precyosclere—cler1321rycchesse—rychesses1322lorn—MS. lorne, C. lornTHE GOLDEN AGE.[The fyfthe metur.]FELIX IN MIRUMPRIOR ETAS.Blysful wasHappy was the first age of men. They were contented with what the faithful earth produced.þe first age of men. þei helden hemapaied wiþ þe metes þat þe trewe erþes brouȝten1324furþe. ¶ þei ne destroyed[e] ne desceyued[e] not hemself wiþ outerage.With acorns they satisfied their hunger.¶ þei weren wont lyȝtly to slakenher hunger at euene wiþ acornes of okesThey knew not Hypocras nor Hydromel.¶ þei necouþe nat medle þe ȝift of bacus to þe clere hony.1328þat is to seyn. þei couþe make no piment of clarre.They did not dye the Serian fleece in Tyrian purple.ne þei couþe nat medle þe briȝt[e] flies of þe contreof siriens wiþ þe venym of tirie. þis is to seyne. þeicouþe nat dien white flies of sirien contre wiþ þe1332blode of a manar shelfysshe. þat men fynden in tyrie.wiþ whiche blode men deien purper.They slept upon the grass, and drank of the running stream, and reclined under the shadow of the tall pine.¶ þei slepenholesom slepes vpon þe gras. and dronken of þe rynnyngwatres.andlaien vndir þe shadowe of þe heyȝe1336pyne trees.No man yet ploughed the deep, nor did the merchant traffick with foreign shores.¶ Ne no gest ne no straunger [ne] karfȝit þe heye see wiþ oores or wiþ shippes. ne þei nehadden seyne ȝitte none newe strondes to leden merchaundysein to dyuerse contres.The warlike trumpet was hushed and still.¶ þo weren þe cruel1340clariouns ful whistandful stille.Bloodshed had not yet arisen through hateful quarrels.ne blode yshed byegre hate ne hadde nat deied ȝit armurers.Nothing could stimulate their rage to engage in war, when they saw that wounds and scars were the only meeds.for whertoor whiche woodenesse of enmys wolde first moeuenarmes. whan þei seien cruel woundes ne none medes1344ben of blood yshadO that those days would come again!¶ I wolde þat oure tymes sholdeturne aȝeyne to þe oolde maneres.The thirst of wealth torments all; it rages more fiercely than Ætna’s fires.¶ But þe anguissousloue of hauyng brenneþ in folke moore cruely þan þefijr of þe Mountaigne of Ethna þat euer brenneþ.1348Cursed be the wretch who first brought gold to light.¶ Allas what was he þat first dalf vp þe gobets orþe weyȝtys of gold couered vndir erþe.andþe preciousstones þat wolden han ben hid. he dalf vp preciousperils. þat is to seyne þat he þat hem first vp dalf. he1352dalf vp a precious peril.It has since proved perilous to many a man.for-whi. for þe preciousnesseof swyche haþ many man ben in peril.1324erþes—feeldes1325furþe—forthdestroyed[e]—dystroyede1327her—hyrat—MS. as, C. ateuene—euen1328couþe—cowdemedle—medlyȝift—yifteclere—cleer1329couþe—cowdeof—nor1330couþe—cowdebriȝt[e]flies—bryhte fleeȝes1331siriens—Seryensseyne—seyn1332couþe—cowdedien—deyenflies—fleȝes1333blode—bloodshelfysshe—shyllefyssh1334blode—blood1335holesom—holsomrynnyng watres—rennynge wateresshadowe—shadwesheyȝe—heye1337pyne—pynno(2)—omitted[ne]—from C.karf—karue1339hadden seyne ȝitte—hadde seyn yit1341whist—hustblode yshed—blod I-shad1343whiche woodenesse—whych wodnesse1344seien—say1346turne aȝeyne—torne ayein1347folke—folk1348þe—omittedeuer—ay1351hid—MS. hidde, C. hydd1352seyne—seynhe(2)—omitted1354swyche—swych thingehaþ—MS. haþeben—beOF DIGNITIES AND POWERS.[The sixte prose.]QUID AUTEMDE DIGNITATIBUSETCETERA.But what shalBut why should I discourse of dignities and powers which (though you are ignorant of true honour and real power) you extol to the skies?I seyne of digniteesandof powers.þe whiche [ye] men þat neiþer knowen verray dignitee1356ne verray power areysen hem as heye as þeheuene.When they fall to the lot of a wicked man, they produce greater calamities than the flaming eruption of Ætna, or the most impetuous deluge.þe whiche digniteesandpowers yif þei cometo any wicked man þei don [as] greet[e] damagesanddistrucciounas doþ þe flamme of þe Mountaigne1360Ethna whan þe flamme wit walwiþ vp ne no delugene doþ so cruel harmes.You remember that your ancestors desired to abolish the Consular government (the commencement of the Roman liberty), because of the pride of the Consuls; as their ancestors before for the same consideration had suppressed the title of King.¶ Certys ye remembriþ welas I trowe þat þilke dignitee þat men clepiþ þe emperieofconsulers þe whiche þat somtyme was bygynnyng1364of fredom. ¶ Ȝoure eldres coueiteden to handon a-wey þat dignitee for þe pride of þe conseilers.HONOURS NOT INTRINSICALLY GOOD,¶ And ryȝt for þe same pride ȝoure eldres byforne þattyme hadden don awey out of þe Citee of rome þe1368kynges name. þat is to seien. þei nolden haue nolenger no kyng ¶ But now yif so be þat digniteesandpowers ben ȝeuen to goode men. þe whiche þingis ful ȝelde. what agreable þinges is þer in þo dignitees.1372or powers. but only þe goodenes of folk þat vsen hem.FOR THEY FALL TO THE LOT OF THE WICKED.Virtue is not embellished by dignities, but dignities derive honour from virtue.¶ And þerfore it is þus þat honourne comeþ nat tovertue for cause of dignite. but aȝeinward. honourcomeþ to dignite by cause of vertue.But what is this power, so much celebrated and desired?but whiche is1376ȝoure derworþe power þat is so clereandso requerableWhat are they over whom you exercise authority?¶ O ȝe erþelyche bestes considere ȝe nat ouer whicheþing þat it semeþ þat ȝe han power.If thou sawest a mouse assuming command over other mice, wouldst thou not almost burst with laughter?¶ Now yif þou[* fol. 13b.]say[e] a mouse amongus*oþer myse þat chalenged[e] to1380hymself ward ryȝtandpower ouer alle oþer myse. howgret scorne woldest þou han of hit. ¶Glosa.¶ Sofareþ it by men. þe body haþ power ouer þe body.What is more feeble than man, to whom the bite of a fly may be the cause of death?For yif þow loke wel vpon þe body of a wyȝt what1384þing shalt þou fynde moore frele þan is mannes kynde.þe whiche ben ful ofte slayn wiþ bytynge of smaleflies. or ellys wiþ þe entryng of crepyng wormes in toþe priuetees of mennes bodyes.But how can any man obtain dominion over another, unless it be over his body, or, what is inferior to his body,—over his possessions, the gifts of Fortune?¶ But wher shal1388men fynden any man þat may exercen or haunten anyryȝt vpon an oþer manbut oonly vpon hys body. orellys vponþinges þat ben lower þen þe body. whicheI clepe fortunous possessiounsCan you ever command a freeborn soul?¶ Mayst þou euer haue1392any comaundement ouer a fre corageCan you disturb a soul consistent with itself, and knit together by the bond of reason?¶ Mayst þouremuen fro þe estat of hys propre reste. a þouȝt þat iscleuyng to gider in hym self by stedfast resoun. ¶ Assomtyme a tiraunt wende to confounde a freeman of1396corage ¶Andwende to constreyne hym by tourmentto maken hym dyscouerenandacusen folk þat wistenof a coniuracioun. whiche I clepe a confederacie þatwas cast aȝeins þis tyrauntHave you not read how Anaxarchus bit off his tongue and spat it in the face of Nicocreon?¶ But þis free man boot1400of hys owen tunge.andcast it in þe visage of þilkewoode tyraunte. ¶ So þat þe tourmentȝ þat þistyraunt wende to han maked matereof cruelte. þiswyse man maked[e it] matere of vertues.What is it that one man can do to another that does not admit of retaliation?¶ But what1404þing is it þat a man may don to an oþer man. þat hene may receyue þe same þing of oþer folke inhymself. or þus. ¶ What may a man don to folk. þat folkne may don hym þe same.Busiris used to kill his guests, but at last himself was killed by Hercules, his guest.¶ I haue herd told of1408busirides þat was wont to sleen hys gestes þat herburghdenin hys hous. and he was slayn hym self ofercules þat was hys gestRegulus put his Carthaginian prisoners in chains, but was afterwards obliged to submit to the fetters of his enemies.¶ Regulus had[de] taken inbataile many men of affrike. and cast hem in to fetteres.1412but sone after he most[e] ȝiue hys handes toben bounden withþe cheynes of hem þat he had[de]somtyme ouercomen.Is he mighty that dares not inflict what he would upon another for fear of a requital?¶ Wenest þou þan þat he bemyȝty. þat may nat don a þing. þat oþer ne may don1416hym. þat he doþ to oþer.If powers and honours were intrinsically good, they would never be attained by the wicked.andȝit more oueryif it sowere þat þise dignites or poweres hadden any propreor naturel goodnesse in hem self neuer nolden þeicomen to shrewes.An union of things opposite is repugnant to nature.¶ For contrarious þinges ne ben1420not wont to ben yfelawshiped togidres. ¶ Nature refuseþþat contra[r]ious þinges ben yioigned.But as wicked men do obtain the highest honours, it is clear that honours are not in themselves good, otherwise they would not fall to the share of the unworthy.¶ And soas I am in certeyne þat ryȝt wikked folk han digniteesofte tymes. þan sheweþ it wel þat digniteesandpowers1424ne ben not goode of hir owen kynde. syn þat þei suffrenhem self to cleuenor ioynen hem to shrewes.The worst of men have often the largest share of Fortune’s gifts.¶ And certys þe same þing may most digneliche Iugenandseyen of alle þe ȝiftis of fortune þat most plenteuously1428comen to shrewes.We judge him to be valiant who has given evidence of his fortitude.¶ Of þe whiche ȝiftys Itrowe þat it auȝt[e] ben considered þat no man doutiþþat he nis strong. in whom he seeþ strengþe.andinwhom þat swiftnesse is ¶ Soþe it is þat he is swyfte.1432So music maketh a musician, &c.Also musyk makeþ musiciens.andfysik makeþ phisiciens.andrethorik rethoriens.The nature of everything consists in doing what is peculiar to itself, and it repels what is contrary to it.¶ For whi þe natureof euery þing makiþ his propretee. ne it is natentermedled wiþ þe effectisof contrarious þinges.1436POWER DOES NOT CONFER GOODNESS.¶ And as of wil it chaseþ oute þinges þat to it bencontrarieRiches cannot restrain avarice. Power cannot make a man master of himself if he is the slave of his lusts.¶ But certys rycchesse may nat restreyneauarice vnstaunched ¶ Ne power [ne] makeþ nat amanmyȝty ouer hym self. whiche þat vicious lustis1440holden destreined wiþ cheins þat ne mowen nat benvnbounden.Dignities conferred upon base men do not make them worthy, but rather expose their want of merit.anddignitees þat ben ȝeuen to shrewed[e]folk nat oonly ne makiþ hem nat digne. but it sheweþraþer al openly þat þei ben vnworþiandvndigne.1444Why is it so? ’Tis because you give false names to things. You dignify riches, power, and honours, with names they have no title to.¶ And whi is it þus. ¶ Certis for ȝe han ioye toclepen þinges wiþ fals[e] names. þat beren hem al inþe contrarie. þe whiche names ben ful ofte reprouedby þe effect of þe same þinges.[* fol. 14.]so þat *þise ilke rycchesse1448ne auȝten nat by ryȝt to ben cleped rycchesse.ne whiche power ne auȝt[e] not ben cleped power. newhiche dignitee ne auȝt[e] nat ben cleped dignitee.In fine, the same may be said of all the gifts of Fortune, in which nothing is desirable, nothing of natural good in them, since they are not always allotted to good men, nor make them good to whom they are attached.¶ And at þe laste I may conclude þe same þinge of1452al þe ȝiftes of fortune in whiche þer nis no þing toben desired. ne þat haþ in hym self naturel bounte.¶ as it is ful wel sene. for neyþer þei ne ioygnenhem nat alwey to goode men. ne maken hem alwey1456goode to whomþei beny-ioigned.1355seyne—seye1358come—comen1359don—MS. done, C. don[as]greet[e]—as grete1360distruccioun—destrucciounsdoþ—MS. doþe, C. dothflamme—flaumbe1361flamme—flawmbewit—omitted1362doþ—MS. doþe, C. doth1363clepiþ—clepyn1364whiche—whychsomtyme—whilom1366for—MS. of, C. for1368don—MS. done, C. don1369seien—seyn1370lenger—lengerekyng—kynge1371whiche—which1373folk—foolkys1374comeþ—comth1375, 1376vertue—vertu1376comeþ—comthby—forwhiche—which1377derworþe—derewortheclere—cleer1378whiche—which1379han—MS. hanne, C. han1380say[e]—sayemouse amongus—mous amongesmyse—musȝ1382scorne—scorn1383haþ—MS. haþe1385mannes—man1386þe——slayn—the whiche men wel ofte ben slayn1388mennes bodyes—mannes body1391lower—lowerewhiche—the which1395stedfast—stidefast1396somtyme—whylom1399whiche—which1401owen—owne1406receyue—resseyuenoþer—oothre1408herd told—MS. herde tolde, C. herd told1409hys—hiseherburghden—herberweden1410slayn—sleyn1411had[de]—hadde1413most[e]—moste1414bounden—bowndecheynes—MS. þeues, C. cheyneshad[de]—hadde1415somtyme—whylom1416þat——þing—that hath no power to don a thingeoþer—oothre1417hym—in hymdoþ—MS. doþe, C. dothto oþer—in oothre1421togidres—to-gidere1423certeyne—certein1424tymes—tyme1425owen—owne1429whiche—which1430auȝt[e]—owhte1432Soþe—sothswyfte—swyft1435is—nis1436effectis—effect1437oute—owt1441ben—be1442shrewed[e]—shrewede1446fals[e]—falseal—alle1447whiche—which1449auȝten—owhtenrycchesse—rychesses1450whiche—swichauȝt[e]—owhte1451whiche—swichauȝt[e]—owht1453al—alle1454haþ—MS. haþe1455sene—I-seeneNERO’S CRUELTY.[The sixte Metur.]NOUIMUS QUANTOS DEDERAT.WE han welWe know what ruin Nero did.knowen how many greet[e] harmesanddestrucciouns weren doñ by þe Emperoure Nero.He burnt Rome, he slew the conscript fathers, murdered his brother, and spilt his mother’s blood.¶ He letee brenne þe citee of Romeandmade slen þe1460senatours. and he cruel somtyme slouȝ hys broþer.andhe was maked moyst wiþ þe blood of hys modir. þat isto seyn he let sleenandslittenþe body of his modir toseen where he was conceiued.He looked unmoved upon his mother’s corpse, and passed judgment upon her beauty.andhe loked[e] on euery1464half vpon hir colde dede body. ne no tere ne wettehis face. but he was so hard herted þat he myȝt[e] bendomesman or Iuge of hire dede beaute.Yet this parricide ruled over all lands, illumined by the sun in his diurnal course, and controlled the frozen regions of the pole.¶ And ȝitteneuerþeles gouerned[e] þis Nero by Ceptre al þe peoples1468þat phebus þe sonne may seen comyng from his outerestarysyng til he hidde his bemes vndir þe wawes. ¶ þatis to seyne. he gouerned[e] alle þe peoples by Ceptre imperialþat þe sonne goþ aboute from est to west ¶ And1472eke þis Nero goueyrende by Ceptre. alle þe peoples þatben vndir þe colde sterres þat hyȝten þe seuene triones.þis is to seyn he gouerned[e] alle þe poeples þat ben vndirþe parties of þe norþe.He governed, too, the people in the torrid zone.¶ And eke Nero gouerned[e]1476alle þe poeples þat þe violent wynde Nothus scorchiþandbakiþ þe brennynge sandes by his drie hete. þatis to seyne. alle þe poeples in þe souþe.But yet Nero’s power could not tame his ferocious mind.[but yit nemyhte nat al his heye power torne the woodnesse of1480this wykkyd nero /It is a grievous thing when power strengthens the arm of him whose will prompts him to deeds of cruelty.Allas it is greuous fortune it is]. asofte as wicked swerde is ioygned to cruel venym. þat isto sein. venimous cruelte to lordshipe.
1098aȝeinewarde al—ayeinward alle1099it—hyt1101whan—whathaþ—MS. haþelorn—MS. lorne, C. lost1102yspranid—spraynydbitternesses—beternesses1104hym—hemit—hytbe—ben1105goþ—MS. geþewol—woolesen—MS. sene1107dwelliþ—dureth1109folkes—folke1110oute—owt1112shortly—shortely1114wilt—MS. wilte, C. woltif—yif1117by-nyme—be-neme1118blisfulnesse[ne]—blyssefulnesse ne1120to gidir—to gidere1121, 1122souereyne goode—souereyn good1125wele—wel1126receyue—resseyuen1129 [it]—from C.it—hyt1130be—ben1131blyndenesse—blyndnesse1134it—hytseiþ—MS. seiþe, C. seyth1135wot—MS. wote, C. wotleese(2)—leese itwhiche—which1136haþ—MS. haþe1137ellys—omittedwene—weneth1138hit—omitted1139goode—goodborn—MS. borne, C. bornhert[e]—herte1140seyne—seyndon—MS. done, C. doforce—fors1142haþ—MS. haþe1143many[e]—manye1144mowen—mowedien—deyen1145clere—cleercerteyne—certeyn1147al—alle1150haþ—MS. haþefruit—frut1152myȝt[e]—myhte1153make—makenself[e]—selue
1098aȝeinewarde al—ayeinward alle
1099it—hyt
1101whan—whathaþ—MS. haþelorn—MS. lorne, C. lost
1102yspranid—spraynydbitternesses—beternesses
1104hym—hemit—hytbe—ben
1105goþ—MS. geþewol—woolesen—MS. sene
1107dwelliþ—dureth
1109folkes—folke
1110oute—owt
1112shortly—shortely
1114wilt—MS. wilte, C. woltif—yif
1117by-nyme—be-neme
1118blisfulnesse[ne]—blyssefulnesse ne
1120to gidir—to gidere
1121, 1122souereyne goode—souereyn good
1125wele—wel
1126receyue—resseyuen
1129 [it]—from C.it—hyt
1130be—ben
1131blyndenesse—blyndnesse
1134it—hytseiþ—MS. seiþe, C. seyth
1135wot—MS. wote, C. wotleese(2)—leese itwhiche—which
1136haþ—MS. haþe
1137ellys—omittedwene—weneth
1138hit—omitted
1139goode—goodborn—MS. borne, C. bornhert[e]—herte
1140seyne—seyndon—MS. done, C. doforce—fors
1142haþ—MS. haþe
1143many[e]—manye
1144mowen—mowedien—deyen
1145clere—cleercerteyne—certeyn
1147al—alle
1150haþ—MS. haþefruit—frut
1152myȝt[e]—myhte
1153make—makenself[e]—selue
RICHES HAVE NO INTRINSIC VALUE.
What manerHe who would have a stable and lasting seat must not build upon lofty hills; nor upon the sands, if he would escape the violence of winds and waves.man stableandwar þat wil founden hyma perdurable seteandne wil not be cast doune1156wiþ þe loude blastes of þe wynde Eurus.andwil dispiseþe see manassynge wiþ floodes ¶ Lat hym eschewe tobilde on þe cop of þe mountayngne. or in þe moystesandes. ¶ For þe fel[le] wynde auster tourmenteþ þe cop1160of þe mountayngne wiþ alle his strengþes. ¶ and þelowe see sandes refuse to beren þe heuy weyȝte.If thou wilt flee perilous fortune, lay thy foundation upon the firmer stone, so that thou mayst grow old in thy stronghold.andforþi yif þou wolt flee þe perilous auenture þat is toseine of þe worlde ¶ Haue mynde certeynly to ficchyn1164þi house of a myrie site in a lowe stoone. ¶ For alþouȝ þe wynde troublyng þe see þondre wiþ ouereþrowynges¶ Þou þat art put inquieteandwelful bystrengþe of þi palys shalt leden a cleer age. scornyng1168þe wodenesses and þe Ires of þe eir.
1155, 1156, 1157wil—wole1156be cast—MS. be caste, C. ben cast1157wynde—wynd1158eschewe—eschewen1160fel[le]—felle1161his—hise1162lowe—lavsesee—omittedrefuse—refusenweyȝte—wyhte1163flee—fleen1164seine—seyn1165þi—thinlowe stoone—lowh stoon1167welful—weleful1169wodenesses—woodnesses
1155, 1156, 1157wil—wole
1156be cast—MS. be caste, C. ben cast
1157wynde—wynd
1158eschewe—eschewen
1160fel[le]—felle
1161his—hise
1162lowe—lavsesee—omittedrefuse—refusenweyȝte—wyhte
1163flee—fleen
1164seine—seyn
1165þi—thinlowe stoone—lowh stoon
1167welful—weleful
1169wodenesses—woodnesses
GLORY NOT IN RICHES; THEY ADD NOTHING TO VIRTUE.
But for asIt is now time to use stronger medicines, since lighter remedies have taken effect.moche as þe noryssinges of my resounsdescenden now in to þe. I trowe it were tyme tovsen a litel strenger medicynes.What is there in the gifts of Fortune that is not vile and despicable?¶ Now vndirstonde1172here al were it so þat þe ȝiftis of fortune nar[e] natbrutel ne transitorie. what is þer in hem þat may be[* fol. 12.]þine *in any tyme. or ellis þat it nys foule if þat it beconsideredandlokid perfitely.Are riches precious in themselves, or in men’s estimation?¶ Richesse ben þei1176preciouse by þe nature of hem self. or ellys by þenature of þe.What is most precious in them, quantity or quality?What is most worþi of rycchesse. is itnat golde or myȝt of moneye assembled.Bounty is more glorious than niggardliness.¶ Certisþilke goldeandþilke moneye shineþandȝeueþ better1180renounto hem þat dispenden it. þen to þilke folke þatmokeren it.Avarice is always hateful, while liberality is praise-worthy.For auarice makeþ alwey mokeres to behated.andlargesse makeþ folke clere of renoun¶ For syn þat swiche þing as is transfered from o1184man to an oþer ne may nat dwellen wiþ no man.Money cannot be more precious than when it is dispensed liberally to others.Certis þan is þilke moneye precious. whan it is translatedin to oþer folk.andstynteþ to ben had byvsage of large ȝeuyng of hym þat haþ ȝeuen it.If one man’s coffers contained all the money in the world, every one else would be in want of it.and1188also yif al þe moneye þat is ouer-al in þe world weregadered towar[d] o man. it sholde maken al oþer mento ben nedy as of þat. ¶ And certys a voys al hoolþat is to seyn wiþ-oute amenusynge fulfilleþ to gyder1192þe heryng of myche folke.Riches cannot be dispensed without diminution.but Certys ȝoure rycchessene mowen nat passen vnto myche folk wiþ-oute amenussyng¶ And whan þei ben apassed. nedys þei makenhem pore þat forgon þe rycchesses.O the poverty of riches, that cannot be enjoyed by many at the same time, nor can be possessed by one without impoverishing others!¶ O streiteand1196nedy clepe I þise rycchesses. syn þat many folke [ne]may nat han it al. ne al may it nat comen to on manwiþ-oute pouerte of al oþer folke. ¶ And þe shynyngeof gemmes þat I clepe preciouse stones. draweþ it nat1200þe eyen of folk in to hem warde. þat is to seyne for þebeaute.The beauty of precious stones consists only in their brightness, wherefore I marvel that men admire that which is motionless, lifeless, and irrational.¶ For certys yif þer were beaute or bountein shynyng of stones. þilke clerenesse is of þe stoneshem self.andnat of men. ¶ For whiche I wondre1204gretly þat men merueilen on swiche þinges. ¶ Forwhi what þing is it þat yif it wanteþ moeuyngandioynture of souleandbody þat by ryȝt myȝt[e] semena faire creature to hym þat haþ a soule of resoun.1208Precious stones are indeed the workmanship of the Creator, but their beauty is infinitely below the excellency of man’s nature.¶ For al be it so þat gemmes drawen to hem self alitel of þe laste beaute of þe worlde. þoruȝ þe ententof hir creatourandþoruȝ þe distincciounof hem self.ȝit for as myche as þei ben put vndir ȝoure excellence.1212þei han not desserued by no weye þat ȝe shullenmerueylen on hem.Doth the beauty of the field delight thee?¶ And þe beaute of feeldes deliteþit nat mychel vnto ȝow.B.Why should it not? for it is a beautiful part of a beautiful whole.Boyce.¶ Whi sholde it natdeliten vs. syn þat it is a ryȝt fayr porciounof þe ryȝt1216fair werk. þat is to seyn of þis worlde.Hence, we admire the face of the sea, the heavens, as well as the sun, moon, and stars.¶ And ryȝtso ben we gladed somtyme of þe face of þe see whanit is clere. And also merueylen we on þe heueneandon þe sterres.andon þe sonne.andon þe mone.1220P.Do these things concern thee? darest thou glory in them?Philosophie.¶ Apperteineþ quod she any of þilkeþinges to þe. whi darst þou glorifie þe in þe shynyngeof any swiche þinges.Do the flowers adorn you with their variety?Art þou distingwedandembelisedby þe spryngyng floures of þe first somer1224sesoun. or swelliþ þi plente in fruytes of somer. whiart þou rauyshed wiþ ydel ioies.Why embracest thou things wherein thou hast no property?why enbracest þoustraunge goodes as þei weren þine.Fortune can never make that thine which the nature of things forbids to be so.Fortune shal neuermaken þat swiche þinges ben þine þat nature of þinges1228maked foreyne fro þe.The fruits of the earth are designed for the support of beasts.¶ Syche is þat wiþ-outendoute þe fruytes of þe erþe owen to ben on þenorssinge of bestes.If you seek only the necessities of nature, the affluence of Fortune will be useless.¶ And if þou wilt fulfille þinede after þat it suffiseþ to nature þan is it no nede1232þat þou seke after þe superfluite of fortune.Nature is content with a little, and superfluity will be both disagreeable and hurtful.¶ Forwiþ ful fewe þingesandwithful lytel þing naturehalt hire appaied.andyif þou wilt achoken þe fulfillyngof nature wiþ superfluites ¶ Certys þilke1236þinges þat þou wilt þresten or pouren in to natureshullen ben vnioyeful to þe or ellis anoies.Does it add to a man’s worth to shine in variety of costly clothing?¶ Wenestþou eke þat it be a fair þinge to shine wiþ dyuersecloþing.The things really to be admired are the beauty of the stuff or the workmanship of it.of whiche cloþing yif þe beaute be agreable1240to loken vpon. I wol merueylen on þe nature of þematere of þilke cloþes. or ellys on þe werkeman þatwrouȝt[e] hem.Doth a great retinue make thee happy?but al so a longe route of meyne. makiþ[* fol. 12b.]þat a blisful *man.If thy servants be vicious, they are a great burden to the house, and pernicious enemies to the master of it.þe whiche seruauntes yif þei ben1244vicioũs of condiciouns it is a greet chargeandadestrucciounto þe house.anda greet enmye to þe lordehym selfIf they be good, why should the probity of others be put to thy account?¶Andyif þei ben goode men how shalstraung[e] or foreyne goodenes ben put in þe noumbre1248of þi rycchesse.Upon the whole, then, none of those enjoyments which thou didst consider as thy own did ever properly belong to thee.so þat by alle þise forseide þinges. it isclerly shewed þat neuer none of þilke þinges þat þouaccoumptedest for þin goodes nas nat þi goode.If they be not desirable,¶ Inþe whiche þinges yif þer be no beaute to ben desired.1252
RICHES BRING ANXIETIES.
why shouldst thou grieve for the loss of them?whi sholdest þou be sory yif þou leese hem. or whisholdest þou reioysen þe to holden hem.If they are fair by nature, what is that to thee?¶ For if þeiben fair of hire owen kynde. what apperteneþ þat to þe.They would be equally agreeable whether thine or not.for as wel sholde þei han ben faire by hem self.1256þouȝ þei werendepartid from alle þin rycchesse.They are not to be reckoned precious because they are counted amongst thy goods, but because they seemed so before thou didst desire to possess them.¶ For-whyfaire ne precioũs ne weren þei nat. for þat þeicomen amonges þi rycchesse. but for þei semeden fairandprecious. þerfore þou haddest leuer rekene hem1260amonges þi rycchesse.What, then, is it we so clamorously demand of Fortune?but what desirest þou of fortunewiþ so greet a noyseandwiþ so greet a fareIs it to drive away indigence by abundance?¶ I trowe þou seke to dryue awey nede wiþ habundaunceof þinges.But the very reverse of this happens, for there is need of many helps to keep a variety of valuable goods.¶ But certys it turneþ to ȝow al in þe1264contrarie. for whi certys it nediþ of ful many[e] helpyngesto kepen þe dyuersite of preciouse ostelmentȝ.They want most things who have the most.and soþe it is þat of many[e] þinges han þei nede þatmany[e] þinges han.They want the fewest who measure their abundance by the necessities of nature, and not by the superfluity of their desires.andaȝeyneward of litel nediþ1268hem þat mesuren hir fille after þe nede of kyndeandnat after þe outrage of couetyseIs there no good planted within ourselves, that we are obliged to go abroad to seek it?¶ Is it þan so þat yemen ne han no propre goode. I-set in ȝow. Forwhiche ȝe moten seken outwardes ȝoure goodes in1272foreineandsubgit þinges.Are things so changed and inverted, that god-like man should think that he has no other worth but what he derives from the possession of inanimate objects?¶ So is þan þe condiciounof þinges turned vpso doun. þat a man þat is a devynebeest by merit of hys resoun. þinkeþ þat hymself nys neyþer fair ne noble. but if it be þoruȝ1276possessiounof ostelmentes. þat ne han no soules.
IGNORANCE CRIMINAL IN MAN.
Inferior things are satisfied with their own endowments, while man (the image of God) seeks to adorn his nature with things infinitely below him, not understanding how much he dishonours his Maker.¶ And certys al oþerþinges ben appaied of hire owenbeautes. but ȝe men þat ben semblable to god by ȝoureresonable þouȝt desiren to apparaille ȝoureexcellent1280kynde of þe lowest[e] pinges. ne ȝe ne vndirstonde nathow gret a wrong ȝe don to ȝoure creatour.God intended man to excel all earthly creatures, yet you debase your dignity and prerogative below the lowest beings.for hewolde þat man kynde were moost worþiandnoble ofany oþer erþely þinges. and ȝe þresten adounȝoure1284dignitees by-neþen þe lowest[e] þinges.In placing your happiness in despicable trifles, you acknowledge yourselves of less value than these trifles, and well do you merit to be so esteemed.¶ For if þat alþe good of euery þing be more preciouse þan is þilkþing whos þat þe good is. syn ȝe demen þat þefoulest[e] þinges ben ȝoure goodes. þanne summytten1288ȝeandputten ȝoure self vndir þo foulest[e] þinges byȝoure estimacioun. ¶ And certis þis bitidiþ nat wiþout ȝouredesert.Man only excels other creatures when he knows himself.For certys swiche is þe condiciounof al man kynde þat oonly whan it haþ knowyng of it1292self. þan passeþ it innoblesse alle oþer þinges.When he ceases to do so, he sinks below beasts.andwhan it forletiþ þe knowyng of it self. þan it isbrouȝt byneþen alle beestes.Ignorance is natural to beasts, but in men it is unnatural and criminal.¶ For-why alle oþer[leuynge] beestes han of kynde to knowe not hem1296self. but whan þat men leten þe knowyng of hem self.it comeþ hem of vice.How weak an error is it to believe that anything foreign to your nature can be an ornament to it.but how brode sheweþ þe errourandþe folie of ȝow men þat wenen þat ony þing mayben apparailled wiþ straunge apparaillementȝ ¶ but1300for-soþe þat may nat be don.If a thing appear beautiful on account of its external embellishments, we admire and praise those embellishments alone.for yif a wyȝt shyneþ wiþþinges þat ben put to hym. as þus. yif þilke þingesshynen wiþ whiche a man is apparailled. ¶ Certisþilke þinges ben commendidandpreised wiþ whiche1304he is apparailled.The thing covered still continues in its natural impurity.¶ But naþeles þe þing þat iscoueredandwrapped vndir þat dwelleþ in his filþe.I deny that to be a good which is hurtful to its owner.and I denye þat þilke þing be good þat anoyeþ hymþat haþ it.Am I deceived in this? You will say no; for riches have often hurt their possessors.¶ Gabbe I of þis. þou wolt seye nay.1308¶ Certys rycchesse han anoyed ful ofte hem þat han þerycchesse.Every wicked man desires another’s wealth, and esteems him alone happy who is in possession of riches.¶ Syn þat euery wicked shrewandforhys wickednesse þe more gredy aftir oþer folkes rycchessewher so euer it be in any place. be it golde or1312precious stones.[* fol. 13.]andweniþ hym *only most worþi þathaþ hemYou, therefore, who now so much dread the instruments of assassination, if you had been born a poor wayfaring man, might, with an empty purse, have sung in the face of robbers.¶ þou þan þat so besy dredest now þe swerdeandþe spere. yif þou haddest entred in þe paþe of þislijf a voide wayfaryng man. þan woldest þou syng[e]1316by-fore þe þeef. ¶ As who seiþ a poure man þat bereþno rycchesse on hym by þe weye. may boldly syng[e]byforne þeues. for he haþ nat wher-of to ben robbed.O the transcendant felicity of riches! No sooner have you obtained them, than you cease to be secure.¶ O preciouseandryȝt clere is þe blysfulnesse of1320mortal rycchesse. þat whanþou hast geten it. þan hastþou lorn þi syke[r]nesse.
1172strenger—strengerevndirstonde—vndyrstond1173nar[e]—ne weere1174be þine—ben thyn1175foule—fowl1176Richesse—Rychessis1178rycchesse—rychesses1179, 1180golde—gold1180better—betere1181þen—thanne1182mokeres—mokereres1183folke clere—folk cler1184swiche—swichfrom—fram1187stynteþ—stenteth1188haþ—MS. haþe1189world—worlde1190al—alle1191al hool—omitted1193myche folke—moche folkerycchesse—rychesses1194myche—moche1196forgon—MS. forgone1197þise—thisrycchesses—rychesse[ne]—from C.1198on—o1199wiþ-oute—with-owtenal—allefolke—folke1200preciouse—presyous1201in—omittedwarde—wardseyne—seyn1202beaute(1)—beautesFor—but1203in—in the1204whiche—which1207ioynture—Ioyngture1208faire—fayrhaþ—MS. haþe1210laste—lastworlde—world1212myche—mochel1213desserued—MS. desseyued, C. desseruydweye—weyshullen—sholden1215mychel—mochel1217fair werk—fayrewerkeworlde—world1219clere—cler1222darst þou glorifie—darsthow gloryfyen1225in—in the1229Syche—Soth1230on—to1231, 1235, 1237wilt—wolt1238shullen—shollen1239fair—fayre1240whiche—which1242werkeman—werkman1246house—howslorde—lord1248goodenes—goodnesse1250shewed—I-shewydnone—oon1251þin—thinegoode—good1255fair—fayrehire owen—hyr owne1256sholde—sholdenself—selue1257þin rycchesse—thyne rychesses1259amonges—amonge1259, 1261rycchesse—Rychesses1259fair—fayre1260leuer rekene—leuere rekne1262greet(2)—grete1265, 1267many[e]—manye1267soþe—soth1272outwardes—owtward1276fair—fayreif—yif1278hire owen—hir owne1281ne(2)—omittedvndirstonde—vndyrstondyn1282gret—MS. grete, C. gret1284oþer erþely—oothre worldlyþresten—threste1285by-neþen—by-netheif—yif1286good—MS. goode, C. goodþing—thingepreciouse—presyosþilk þing—thilke thinge1287þe(2)—tho1288summytten—submitten1289self—seluenfoulest[e]—fowleste1290bitidiþ—tydeth1291out—owtedesert—desertes1292al—alle1293self—selue1294it is—is it1296 [leuynge]—from C.hem—hym1297þat—omitted1298comeþ—comth1299þing—thinge1302put—MS. putte, C. put1303whiche—which1306filþe—felthe1307þing—thingegood—MS. goode, C. good1308haþ—MS. haþe1309rycchesse—Rychessesþe—tho1310rycchesse—Rychessesshrew—shrewe1311rycchesse—rychesses1312golde—gold1314haþ—MS. haþe, C. hatbesy—bysyswerde—swerd1315paþe—paath1316wayfaryng—wayferyngesyng[e]—synge1317by-fore—by-fornseiþ—MS. seiþe, C. seythpoure—porebereþ—berth1318boldly syng[e]—boldely synge1319haþ—MS. haþe1320preciouse—precyosclere—cler1321rycchesse—rychesses1322lorn—MS. lorne, C. lorn
1172strenger—strengerevndirstonde—vndyrstond
1173nar[e]—ne weere
1174be þine—ben thyn
1175foule—fowl
1176Richesse—Rychessis
1178rycchesse—rychesses
1179, 1180golde—gold
1180better—betere
1181þen—thanne
1182mokeres—mokereres
1183folke clere—folk cler
1184swiche—swichfrom—fram
1187stynteþ—stenteth
1188haþ—MS. haþe
1189world—worlde
1190al—alle
1191al hool—omitted
1193myche folke—moche folkerycchesse—rychesses
1194myche—moche
1196forgon—MS. forgone
1197þise—thisrycchesses—rychesse[ne]—from C.
1198on—o
1199wiþ-oute—with-owtenal—allefolke—folke
1200preciouse—presyous
1201in—omittedwarde—wardseyne—seyn
1202beaute(1)—beautesFor—but
1203in—in the
1204whiche—which
1207ioynture—Ioyngture
1208faire—fayrhaþ—MS. haþe
1210laste—lastworlde—world
1212myche—mochel
1213desserued—MS. desseyued, C. desseruydweye—weyshullen—sholden
1215mychel—mochel
1217fair werk—fayrewerkeworlde—world
1219clere—cler
1222darst þou glorifie—darsthow gloryfyen
1225in—in the
1229Syche—Soth
1230on—to
1231, 1235, 1237wilt—wolt
1238shullen—shollen
1239fair—fayre
1240whiche—which
1242werkeman—werkman
1246house—howslorde—lord
1248goodenes—goodnesse
1250shewed—I-shewydnone—oon
1251þin—thinegoode—good
1255fair—fayrehire owen—hyr owne
1256sholde—sholdenself—selue
1257þin rycchesse—thyne rychesses
1259amonges—amonge
1259, 1261rycchesse—Rychesses
1259fair—fayre
1260leuer rekene—leuere rekne
1262greet(2)—grete
1265, 1267many[e]—manye
1267soþe—soth
1272outwardes—owtward
1276fair—fayreif—yif
1278hire owen—hir owne
1281ne(2)—omittedvndirstonde—vndyrstondyn
1282gret—MS. grete, C. gret
1284oþer erþely—oothre worldlyþresten—threste
1285by-neþen—by-netheif—yif
1286good—MS. goode, C. goodþing—thingepreciouse—presyosþilk þing—thilke thinge
1287þe(2)—tho
1288summytten—submitten
1289self—seluenfoulest[e]—fowleste
1290bitidiþ—tydeth
1291out—owtedesert—desertes
1292al—alle
1293self—selue
1294it is—is it
1296 [leuynge]—from C.hem—hym
1297þat—omitted
1298comeþ—comth
1299þing—thinge
1302put—MS. putte, C. put
1303whiche—which
1306filþe—felthe
1307þing—thingegood—MS. goode, C. good
1308haþ—MS. haþe
1309rycchesse—Rychessesþe—tho
1310rycchesse—Rychessesshrew—shrewe
1311rycchesse—rychesses
1312golde—gold
1314haþ—MS. haþe, C. hatbesy—bysyswerde—swerd
1315paþe—paath
1316wayfaryng—wayferyngesyng[e]—synge
1317by-fore—by-fornseiþ—MS. seiþe, C. seythpoure—porebereþ—berth
1318boldly syng[e]—boldely synge
1319haþ—MS. haþe
1320preciouse—precyosclere—cler
1321rycchesse—rychesses
1322lorn—MS. lorne, C. lorn
THE GOLDEN AGE.
Blysful wasHappy was the first age of men. They were contented with what the faithful earth produced.þe first age of men. þei helden hemapaied wiþ þe metes þat þe trewe erþes brouȝten1324furþe. ¶ þei ne destroyed[e] ne desceyued[e] not hemself wiþ outerage.With acorns they satisfied their hunger.¶ þei weren wont lyȝtly to slakenher hunger at euene wiþ acornes of okesThey knew not Hypocras nor Hydromel.¶ þei necouþe nat medle þe ȝift of bacus to þe clere hony.1328þat is to seyn. þei couþe make no piment of clarre.They did not dye the Serian fleece in Tyrian purple.ne þei couþe nat medle þe briȝt[e] flies of þe contreof siriens wiþ þe venym of tirie. þis is to seyne. þeicouþe nat dien white flies of sirien contre wiþ þe1332blode of a manar shelfysshe. þat men fynden in tyrie.wiþ whiche blode men deien purper.They slept upon the grass, and drank of the running stream, and reclined under the shadow of the tall pine.¶ þei slepenholesom slepes vpon þe gras. and dronken of þe rynnyngwatres.andlaien vndir þe shadowe of þe heyȝe1336pyne trees.No man yet ploughed the deep, nor did the merchant traffick with foreign shores.¶ Ne no gest ne no straunger [ne] karfȝit þe heye see wiþ oores or wiþ shippes. ne þei nehadden seyne ȝitte none newe strondes to leden merchaundysein to dyuerse contres.The warlike trumpet was hushed and still.¶ þo weren þe cruel1340clariouns ful whistandful stille.Bloodshed had not yet arisen through hateful quarrels.ne blode yshed byegre hate ne hadde nat deied ȝit armurers.Nothing could stimulate their rage to engage in war, when they saw that wounds and scars were the only meeds.for whertoor whiche woodenesse of enmys wolde first moeuenarmes. whan þei seien cruel woundes ne none medes1344ben of blood yshadO that those days would come again!¶ I wolde þat oure tymes sholdeturne aȝeyne to þe oolde maneres.The thirst of wealth torments all; it rages more fiercely than Ætna’s fires.¶ But þe anguissousloue of hauyng brenneþ in folke moore cruely þan þefijr of þe Mountaigne of Ethna þat euer brenneþ.1348Cursed be the wretch who first brought gold to light.¶ Allas what was he þat first dalf vp þe gobets orþe weyȝtys of gold couered vndir erþe.andþe preciousstones þat wolden han ben hid. he dalf vp preciousperils. þat is to seyne þat he þat hem first vp dalf. he1352dalf vp a precious peril.It has since proved perilous to many a man.for-whi. for þe preciousnesseof swyche haþ many man ben in peril.
1324erþes—feeldes1325furþe—forthdestroyed[e]—dystroyede1327her—hyrat—MS. as, C. ateuene—euen1328couþe—cowdemedle—medlyȝift—yifteclere—cleer1329couþe—cowdeof—nor1330couþe—cowdebriȝt[e]flies—bryhte fleeȝes1331siriens—Seryensseyne—seyn1332couþe—cowdedien—deyenflies—fleȝes1333blode—bloodshelfysshe—shyllefyssh1334blode—blood1335holesom—holsomrynnyng watres—rennynge wateresshadowe—shadwesheyȝe—heye1337pyne—pynno(2)—omitted[ne]—from C.karf—karue1339hadden seyne ȝitte—hadde seyn yit1341whist—hustblode yshed—blod I-shad1343whiche woodenesse—whych wodnesse1344seien—say1346turne aȝeyne—torne ayein1347folke—folk1348þe—omittedeuer—ay1351hid—MS. hidde, C. hydd1352seyne—seynhe(2)—omitted1354swyche—swych thingehaþ—MS. haþeben—be
1324erþes—feeldes
1325furþe—forthdestroyed[e]—dystroyede
1327her—hyrat—MS. as, C. ateuene—euen
1328couþe—cowdemedle—medlyȝift—yifteclere—cleer
1329couþe—cowdeof—nor
1330couþe—cowdebriȝt[e]flies—bryhte fleeȝes
1331siriens—Seryensseyne—seyn
1332couþe—cowdedien—deyenflies—fleȝes
1333blode—bloodshelfysshe—shyllefyssh
1334blode—blood
1335holesom—holsomrynnyng watres—rennynge wateresshadowe—shadwesheyȝe—heye
1337pyne—pynno(2)—omitted[ne]—from C.karf—karue
1339hadden seyne ȝitte—hadde seyn yit
1341whist—hustblode yshed—blod I-shad
1343whiche woodenesse—whych wodnesse
1344seien—say
1346turne aȝeyne—torne ayein
1347folke—folk
1348þe—omittedeuer—ay
1351hid—MS. hidde, C. hydd
1352seyne—seynhe(2)—omitted
1354swyche—swych thingehaþ—MS. haþeben—be
OF DIGNITIES AND POWERS.
But what shalBut why should I discourse of dignities and powers which (though you are ignorant of true honour and real power) you extol to the skies?I seyne of digniteesandof powers.þe whiche [ye] men þat neiþer knowen verray dignitee1356ne verray power areysen hem as heye as þeheuene.When they fall to the lot of a wicked man, they produce greater calamities than the flaming eruption of Ætna, or the most impetuous deluge.þe whiche digniteesandpowers yif þei cometo any wicked man þei don [as] greet[e] damagesanddistrucciounas doþ þe flamme of þe Mountaigne1360Ethna whan þe flamme wit walwiþ vp ne no delugene doþ so cruel harmes.You remember that your ancestors desired to abolish the Consular government (the commencement of the Roman liberty), because of the pride of the Consuls; as their ancestors before for the same consideration had suppressed the title of King.¶ Certys ye remembriþ welas I trowe þat þilke dignitee þat men clepiþ þe emperieofconsulers þe whiche þat somtyme was bygynnyng1364of fredom. ¶ Ȝoure eldres coueiteden to handon a-wey þat dignitee for þe pride of þe conseilers.
HONOURS NOT INTRINSICALLY GOOD,
¶ And ryȝt for þe same pride ȝoure eldres byforne þattyme hadden don awey out of þe Citee of rome þe1368kynges name. þat is to seien. þei nolden haue nolenger no kyng ¶ But now yif so be þat digniteesandpowers ben ȝeuen to goode men. þe whiche þingis ful ȝelde. what agreable þinges is þer in þo dignitees.1372or powers. but only þe goodenes of folk þat vsen hem.
FOR THEY FALL TO THE LOT OF THE WICKED.
Virtue is not embellished by dignities, but dignities derive honour from virtue.¶ And þerfore it is þus þat honourne comeþ nat tovertue for cause of dignite. but aȝeinward. honourcomeþ to dignite by cause of vertue.But what is this power, so much celebrated and desired?but whiche is1376ȝoure derworþe power þat is so clereandso requerableWhat are they over whom you exercise authority?¶ O ȝe erþelyche bestes considere ȝe nat ouer whicheþing þat it semeþ þat ȝe han power.If thou sawest a mouse assuming command over other mice, wouldst thou not almost burst with laughter?¶ Now yif þou[* fol. 13b.]say[e] a mouse amongus*oþer myse þat chalenged[e] to1380hymself ward ryȝtandpower ouer alle oþer myse. howgret scorne woldest þou han of hit. ¶Glosa.¶ Sofareþ it by men. þe body haþ power ouer þe body.What is more feeble than man, to whom the bite of a fly may be the cause of death?For yif þow loke wel vpon þe body of a wyȝt what1384þing shalt þou fynde moore frele þan is mannes kynde.þe whiche ben ful ofte slayn wiþ bytynge of smaleflies. or ellys wiþ þe entryng of crepyng wormes in toþe priuetees of mennes bodyes.But how can any man obtain dominion over another, unless it be over his body, or, what is inferior to his body,—over his possessions, the gifts of Fortune?¶ But wher shal1388men fynden any man þat may exercen or haunten anyryȝt vpon an oþer manbut oonly vpon hys body. orellys vponþinges þat ben lower þen þe body. whicheI clepe fortunous possessiounsCan you ever command a freeborn soul?¶ Mayst þou euer haue1392any comaundement ouer a fre corageCan you disturb a soul consistent with itself, and knit together by the bond of reason?¶ Mayst þouremuen fro þe estat of hys propre reste. a þouȝt þat iscleuyng to gider in hym self by stedfast resoun. ¶ Assomtyme a tiraunt wende to confounde a freeman of1396corage ¶Andwende to constreyne hym by tourmentto maken hym dyscouerenandacusen folk þat wistenof a coniuracioun. whiche I clepe a confederacie þatwas cast aȝeins þis tyrauntHave you not read how Anaxarchus bit off his tongue and spat it in the face of Nicocreon?¶ But þis free man boot1400of hys owen tunge.andcast it in þe visage of þilkewoode tyraunte. ¶ So þat þe tourmentȝ þat þistyraunt wende to han maked matereof cruelte. þiswyse man maked[e it] matere of vertues.What is it that one man can do to another that does not admit of retaliation?¶ But what1404þing is it þat a man may don to an oþer man. þat hene may receyue þe same þing of oþer folke inhymself. or þus. ¶ What may a man don to folk. þat folkne may don hym þe same.Busiris used to kill his guests, but at last himself was killed by Hercules, his guest.¶ I haue herd told of1408busirides þat was wont to sleen hys gestes þat herburghdenin hys hous. and he was slayn hym self ofercules þat was hys gestRegulus put his Carthaginian prisoners in chains, but was afterwards obliged to submit to the fetters of his enemies.¶ Regulus had[de] taken inbataile many men of affrike. and cast hem in to fetteres.1412but sone after he most[e] ȝiue hys handes toben bounden withþe cheynes of hem þat he had[de]somtyme ouercomen.Is he mighty that dares not inflict what he would upon another for fear of a requital?¶ Wenest þou þan þat he bemyȝty. þat may nat don a þing. þat oþer ne may don1416hym. þat he doþ to oþer.If powers and honours were intrinsically good, they would never be attained by the wicked.andȝit more oueryif it sowere þat þise dignites or poweres hadden any propreor naturel goodnesse in hem self neuer nolden þeicomen to shrewes.An union of things opposite is repugnant to nature.¶ For contrarious þinges ne ben1420not wont to ben yfelawshiped togidres. ¶ Nature refuseþþat contra[r]ious þinges ben yioigned.But as wicked men do obtain the highest honours, it is clear that honours are not in themselves good, otherwise they would not fall to the share of the unworthy.¶ And soas I am in certeyne þat ryȝt wikked folk han digniteesofte tymes. þan sheweþ it wel þat digniteesandpowers1424ne ben not goode of hir owen kynde. syn þat þei suffrenhem self to cleuenor ioynen hem to shrewes.The worst of men have often the largest share of Fortune’s gifts.¶ And certys þe same þing may most digneliche Iugenandseyen of alle þe ȝiftis of fortune þat most plenteuously1428comen to shrewes.We judge him to be valiant who has given evidence of his fortitude.¶ Of þe whiche ȝiftys Itrowe þat it auȝt[e] ben considered þat no man doutiþþat he nis strong. in whom he seeþ strengþe.andinwhom þat swiftnesse is ¶ Soþe it is þat he is swyfte.1432So music maketh a musician, &c.Also musyk makeþ musiciens.andfysik makeþ phisiciens.andrethorik rethoriens.The nature of everything consists in doing what is peculiar to itself, and it repels what is contrary to it.¶ For whi þe natureof euery þing makiþ his propretee. ne it is natentermedled wiþ þe effectisof contrarious þinges.1436
POWER DOES NOT CONFER GOODNESS.
¶ And as of wil it chaseþ oute þinges þat to it bencontrarieRiches cannot restrain avarice. Power cannot make a man master of himself if he is the slave of his lusts.¶ But certys rycchesse may nat restreyneauarice vnstaunched ¶ Ne power [ne] makeþ nat amanmyȝty ouer hym self. whiche þat vicious lustis1440holden destreined wiþ cheins þat ne mowen nat benvnbounden.Dignities conferred upon base men do not make them worthy, but rather expose their want of merit.anddignitees þat ben ȝeuen to shrewed[e]folk nat oonly ne makiþ hem nat digne. but it sheweþraþer al openly þat þei ben vnworþiandvndigne.1444Why is it so? ’Tis because you give false names to things. You dignify riches, power, and honours, with names they have no title to.¶ And whi is it þus. ¶ Certis for ȝe han ioye toclepen þinges wiþ fals[e] names. þat beren hem al inþe contrarie. þe whiche names ben ful ofte reprouedby þe effect of þe same þinges.[* fol. 14.]so þat *þise ilke rycchesse1448ne auȝten nat by ryȝt to ben cleped rycchesse.ne whiche power ne auȝt[e] not ben cleped power. newhiche dignitee ne auȝt[e] nat ben cleped dignitee.In fine, the same may be said of all the gifts of Fortune, in which nothing is desirable, nothing of natural good in them, since they are not always allotted to good men, nor make them good to whom they are attached.¶ And at þe laste I may conclude þe same þinge of1452al þe ȝiftes of fortune in whiche þer nis no þing toben desired. ne þat haþ in hym self naturel bounte.¶ as it is ful wel sene. for neyþer þei ne ioygnenhem nat alwey to goode men. ne maken hem alwey1456goode to whomþei beny-ioigned.
1355seyne—seye1358come—comen1359don—MS. done, C. don[as]greet[e]—as grete1360distruccioun—destrucciounsdoþ—MS. doþe, C. dothflamme—flaumbe1361flamme—flawmbewit—omitted1362doþ—MS. doþe, C. doth1363clepiþ—clepyn1364whiche—whychsomtyme—whilom1366for—MS. of, C. for1368don—MS. done, C. don1369seien—seyn1370lenger—lengerekyng—kynge1371whiche—which1373folk—foolkys1374comeþ—comth1375, 1376vertue—vertu1376comeþ—comthby—forwhiche—which1377derworþe—derewortheclere—cleer1378whiche—which1379han—MS. hanne, C. han1380say[e]—sayemouse amongus—mous amongesmyse—musȝ1382scorne—scorn1383haþ—MS. haþe1385mannes—man1386þe——slayn—the whiche men wel ofte ben slayn1388mennes bodyes—mannes body1391lower—lowerewhiche—the which1395stedfast—stidefast1396somtyme—whylom1399whiche—which1401owen—owne1406receyue—resseyuenoþer—oothre1408herd told—MS. herde tolde, C. herd told1409hys—hiseherburghden—herberweden1410slayn—sleyn1411had[de]—hadde1413most[e]—moste1414bounden—bowndecheynes—MS. þeues, C. cheyneshad[de]—hadde1415somtyme—whylom1416þat——þing—that hath no power to don a thingeoþer—oothre1417hym—in hymdoþ—MS. doþe, C. dothto oþer—in oothre1421togidres—to-gidere1423certeyne—certein1424tymes—tyme1425owen—owne1429whiche—which1430auȝt[e]—owhte1432Soþe—sothswyfte—swyft1435is—nis1436effectis—effect1437oute—owt1441ben—be1442shrewed[e]—shrewede1446fals[e]—falseal—alle1447whiche—which1449auȝten—owhtenrycchesse—rychesses1450whiche—swichauȝt[e]—owhte1451whiche—swichauȝt[e]—owht1453al—alle1454haþ—MS. haþe1455sene—I-seene
1355seyne—seye
1358come—comen
1359don—MS. done, C. don[as]greet[e]—as grete
1360distruccioun—destrucciounsdoþ—MS. doþe, C. dothflamme—flaumbe
1361flamme—flawmbewit—omitted
1362doþ—MS. doþe, C. doth
1363clepiþ—clepyn
1364whiche—whychsomtyme—whilom
1366for—MS. of, C. for
1368don—MS. done, C. don
1369seien—seyn
1370lenger—lengerekyng—kynge
1371whiche—which
1373folk—foolkys
1374comeþ—comth
1375, 1376vertue—vertu
1376comeþ—comthby—forwhiche—which
1377derworþe—derewortheclere—cleer
1378whiche—which
1379han—MS. hanne, C. han
1380say[e]—sayemouse amongus—mous amongesmyse—musȝ
1382scorne—scorn
1383haþ—MS. haþe
1385mannes—man
1386þe——slayn—the whiche men wel ofte ben slayn
1388mennes bodyes—mannes body
1391lower—lowerewhiche—the which
1395stedfast—stidefast
1396somtyme—whylom
1399whiche—which
1401owen—owne
1406receyue—resseyuenoþer—oothre
1408herd told—MS. herde tolde, C. herd told
1409hys—hiseherburghden—herberweden
1410slayn—sleyn
1411had[de]—hadde
1413most[e]—moste
1414bounden—bowndecheynes—MS. þeues, C. cheyneshad[de]—hadde
1415somtyme—whylom
1416þat——þing—that hath no power to don a thingeoþer—oothre
1417hym—in hymdoþ—MS. doþe, C. dothto oþer—in oothre
1421togidres—to-gidere
1423certeyne—certein
1424tymes—tyme
1425owen—owne
1429whiche—which
1430auȝt[e]—owhte
1432Soþe—sothswyfte—swyft
1435is—nis
1436effectis—effect
1437oute—owt
1441ben—be
1442shrewed[e]—shrewede
1446fals[e]—falseal—alle
1447whiche—which
1449auȝten—owhtenrycchesse—rychesses
1450whiche—swichauȝt[e]—owhte
1451whiche—swichauȝt[e]—owht
1453al—alle
1454haþ—MS. haþe
1455sene—I-seene
NERO’S CRUELTY.
WE han welWe know what ruin Nero did.knowen how many greet[e] harmesanddestrucciouns weren doñ by þe Emperoure Nero.He burnt Rome, he slew the conscript fathers, murdered his brother, and spilt his mother’s blood.¶ He letee brenne þe citee of Romeandmade slen þe1460senatours. and he cruel somtyme slouȝ hys broþer.andhe was maked moyst wiþ þe blood of hys modir. þat isto seyn he let sleenandslittenþe body of his modir toseen where he was conceiued.He looked unmoved upon his mother’s corpse, and passed judgment upon her beauty.andhe loked[e] on euery1464half vpon hir colde dede body. ne no tere ne wettehis face. but he was so hard herted þat he myȝt[e] bendomesman or Iuge of hire dede beaute.Yet this parricide ruled over all lands, illumined by the sun in his diurnal course, and controlled the frozen regions of the pole.¶ And ȝitteneuerþeles gouerned[e] þis Nero by Ceptre al þe peoples1468þat phebus þe sonne may seen comyng from his outerestarysyng til he hidde his bemes vndir þe wawes. ¶ þatis to seyne. he gouerned[e] alle þe peoples by Ceptre imperialþat þe sonne goþ aboute from est to west ¶ And1472eke þis Nero goueyrende by Ceptre. alle þe peoples þatben vndir þe colde sterres þat hyȝten þe seuene triones.þis is to seyn he gouerned[e] alle þe poeples þat ben vndirþe parties of þe norþe.He governed, too, the people in the torrid zone.¶ And eke Nero gouerned[e]1476alle þe poeples þat þe violent wynde Nothus scorchiþandbakiþ þe brennynge sandes by his drie hete. þatis to seyne. alle þe poeples in þe souþe.But yet Nero’s power could not tame his ferocious mind.[but yit nemyhte nat al his heye power torne the woodnesse of1480this wykkyd nero /It is a grievous thing when power strengthens the arm of him whose will prompts him to deeds of cruelty.Allas it is greuous fortune it is]. asofte as wicked swerde is ioygned to cruel venym. þat isto sein. venimous cruelte to lordshipe.