1458greet[e]—grete1460letee—let1461somtyme slouÈ—whilom slow1463let—lette1464where—wher1465half—halue1466myÈt[e]—myhte1467hire—hyr1468neuerþeles—nathelesgouerned[e]—gouernedeal—alle1469from—framouterest—owtereste1470hidde—hide1471seyne—seyn1472goþ—MS. goþe, C. goth1473goueyrende—gouernyd1474triones—tyryones1475gouerned[e]—gouernede1476parties—partynorþe—northgouerned[e]—gouernede1477wynde—wyndscorchiþ—scorklith1479seyne—seynsouþe—sowth1479-81 [but——it is]—MS.has: but ne how greuous fortune is1482swerde—swerdTHE LOVE OF GLORY.[The seuende prose.]TUMEGO SCIS INQUAM.ÞAnne seide IB.Thou knowest that I did not covet mortal and transitory things.þus. þou wost wel þiself þat þe1484couetise of mortal þinges ne hadden neuer lordshipeof me. but I haue wel desired matere of þingesto done. as who seiþ.I only wished to exercise my virtue in public concerns, lest it should grow feeble by inactivity.I desired[e] to han matere ofgouernaunce ouer comunalites. ¶ For vertue stille ne1488sholde not elden. þat is to seyn. þat list þat or he wexolde ¶ His uertue þat lay now ful stille. ne sholdenat perisshe vnexcercised ingouernaunce of comune.¶ For whiche men myÈten speke or writenof his1492goode gouernement.P.A love of glory is one of those things that may captivate minds naturally great, but not yet arrived at the perfection of virtue.¶Philosophie.¶ For soþe quodshe.andþat is a þing þat may drawen to gouernaunceswiche hertes as ben worþiandnoble of hir nature.but naþeles it may nat drawen or tollen swiche hertes as1496ben y-brouÈt to þe ful[le] perfecciounof vertue. þat isto seyn couetyse of glorieandrenounto han weladministred þe comune þinges. or doon goode decertesto profit of þe comune.But consider how small and void of weight is that glory.for se nowandconsidere how1500litelandhow voide of al prise is þilke glorie.Astronomy teaches us that this globe of earth is but a speck compared with the extent of the heavens, and is as nothing if compared with the magnitude of the celestial sphere.¶ Certeineþing is as þou hast lerned by demonstraciounofastronomye þat al þe envyronynge of þe erþe aboutene halt but þe resounof a prykke at regard of þe gretnesse1504of heuene. þat is to seye. þat yif þat þer weremaked comparisounof þe erþe to þe gretnesse ofheuene. men wolde Iugen in alle þat erþe [ne] heldeno spacePtolemy shows that only one-fourth of this earth is inhabited by living creatures.¶ Of þe whiche litel regiounof þis worlde1508þe ferþe partie is enhabitid wiþ lyuyng beestes þatwe knowen. as þou hast þi self lerned by tholome þatprouitħ it.Deduct from this the space occupied by seas, marshes, lakes, and deserts, and there remains but a small proportion left for the abode of man.¶ yif þou haddest wiþ drawenandabatedin þi þouÈte fro þilke ferþe partie as myche space as þe1512seeand[the] mareys contenenandouergonandasmyche space as þe regiounof droughte ouerstreccheþ.FAME IS CIRCUMSCRIBED.þat is to seye sandesanddesertes wel vnneþ sholde[* fol. 14b.]*þer dwellen a ryÈt streite place to þe habitaciounof1516men.And do you, who are confined to the least point of this point, think of nothing but of blazing far and wide your name and reputation?andÈe þan þat ben environedandclosed wiþinne þe leest[e] prikke of þilk prikke þenke Èe tomanifesten Èoure renounanddon Èoure name to benborn forþe.What is there great in a glory so circumscribed?but Èoureglorie þat is so narweandso1520streyt yþrongenin to so litel boundes. how mycheconteinþe it in largesseandin greet doynge.Even in this contracted circle, there is a great variety of nations, to whom not only the fame of particular men, but even of great cities, cannot extend.And alsosette þis þer to þat many a nacioundyuerse of tongeandof maneres.andeke of resounof hir lyuyng ben1524enhabitid in þe cloos of þilke litel habitacle. ¶ To þewhiche naciouns what for difficulte of weyes.andwhatfor diuersite of langages.andwhat for defaute ofvnusage entercomunynge of marchaundise. nat only þe1528names of singler men ne may [nat] strecchen. but ekeþe fame of Citees ne may nat strecchen.In the time of Marcus Tullius the fame of Rome did not reach beyond Mount Caucasus.¶ At þelast[e] Certis in þe tyme of Marcus tulyus as hymself writeþ in his book þat þe renounof þe comune of1532Rome ne hadde nat Èitte passed ne cloumben ouerþemountaigne þat hyÈt Caucasus.andÈitte was þilktyme rome wel wexenandgretly redouted of þe parthes.and eke of oþer folk enhabityng aboute.How narrow, then, is that glory which you labour to propagate.¶ Sest þou1536nat þan how streitandhow compressed is þilke glorieþat Èe trauailenaboute to shewandto multiplie.Shall the glory of a Roman citizen reach those places where the name even of Rome was never heard?Mayþan þe glorie of a singlere Romeyne strecchen þideras þe fame of þe name of Rome may nat clymben ne1540passen.Customs and institutions differ in different countries.¶ And eke sest þou nat þat þe maners ofdiuerse folkandeke hir lawes ben discordaunt amongehem self.What is praise-worthy in one is blame-worthy in another.so þat þilke þing þat sommen iugen worþi ofpreysynge. oþer folk iugen þat it is worþi of torment.1544It is not the interest of any man who desires renown to have his name spread through many countries.FAME IS NOT ETERNAL.¶ and þer of comeþ þat þouÈ a man delite hyminpreysyng of his renoun. he ne may nat inno wisebryngen furþe ne spredenhis name to many manerepeoples.He ought, therefore, to be satisfied with the glory he has acquired at home.¶ And þerfore euery manerman auÈte to ben1548paied of hys glorie þat is puplissed among hys owenneyÈbores.But of how many personages, illustrious in their times, have the memorials been lost through the carelessness and neglect of writers.¶ And þilke noble renounshal berestreyned wiþ-inne þe boundes of o maner folk but howmany a man þat was ful noble in his tyme. haþ þe1552nedyandwrecched forÈetynge of writers put oute ofmyndeanddon awey.But writings do not preserve the names of men for ever.¶ Al be it so þat certys þilkewritynges profiten litel. þe whiche writynges longeandderke elde doþ aweye boþe hemandeke her autours.But perhaps you suppose that you shall secure immortality if your names are transmitted to future ages.but1556Èe men semen to geten Èow a perdurablete whan Èeþenke þat in tyme comyng Èoure fame shal lasten.If you consider the infinite space of eternity you will have no reason to rejoice in this supposition.¶ Butnaþeles yif þou wilt maken comparisounto þe endelesspace of eternite what þing hast þou by whiche þou1560maist reioysen þe of long lastyng of þi name.If amomentbe compared with 10,000 years, there is a proportion between them, though a very small one.¶ Forif þer were maked comparysounof þe abidyng of amoment to ten þousand wynter. for as myche as boþeþo spaces ben endid. ¶ For Èit haþ þe moment some1564porciounof hit al þouÈ it a litel be.But this number of years, multiplied by whatever sum you please, vanishes when compared with the infinite extent of eternity.¶ But naþelesþilke self noumbre of Èeres. and eke as many Èeres asþer to may be multiplied. ne may nat certys be comparisoundto þe perdurablete þat is een[de]les.There may be comparison between finite things, but none between the infinite and finite.¶ For of1568þinges þat han ende may be mad comparisoun[but ofthinges that ben with-owtyn ende to thinges þat han endemay be maked nocomparysoun].Hence it is, that Fame (however lasting), compared with eternity, will seem absolutely nothing.¶ And for þi is it alþouÈ renounof as longe tyme as euer þe lyst to þinken1572were þouÈt by þe regard of eternite. þat is vnstauncheableandinfinit. it ne sholde nat oonly semen litel. butpleinliche ryÈt nouÈt.But yet you do good from no other view than to have the empty applause of the people, foregoing the pleasures of a good conscience in order to have the insignificant praises of other people.¶ But Èe men certys ne konnedon no þing aryÈt. but Èif it be for þe audience of poeple.1576andfor ydel rumours.andÈe forsaken þe grete worþinesseof conscienceandof vertue.andÈe sekenÈouregerdouns of þe smale wordes of strange folke.VANITY REPROVED.This silly vanity was once thus ingeniously and pleasantly rallied.¶ Haue now hereandvndirstonde inþe lyÈtnesse of whiche1580prideandveyne glorie. how a man scorned[e] festiualyandmyrily swiche vanite.A certain man, who had assumed the name of a philosopher through a love of vain-glory, was told by a man of humour that he could prove he was a philosopher by bearing patiently the injuries offered him.somtyme þere was a man þathad[de] assaied wiþ striuyng wordes an oþer man. ¶ þewhiche nat for vsage of verrey vertue. but for proude1584veyne glorie had[de] takenvpon hym falsly þe nameof a philosopher. ¶ þis raþer man þat I speke ofþouÈt[e] he wolde assay[e] where he þilke were aphilosopher or no. þat is to seyne yif he wolde han suffred1588[* fol. 15.]lyÈtly in pacience þe wronges *þat weren don vntohym.After counterfeiting patience for a while, the sophist said to the other, ‘You must surely confess that I am a philosopher.’¶ þis feined[e] philosophre took pacience alitel while.andwhan he hadde receiued wordes ofouterage he as in stryuynge aÈeineandreioysynge of1592hym self seide at þe last[e] ryÈt þus. ¶ vndirstondestþou nat þat I am a philosophere.‘I might have believed it,’ said the other, ‘had you held your tongue.’þat oþer man answered[e]aÈein ful bitynglyandseide. ¶ I had[de]wel vndirstonden [yt]. yif þou haddest holdenþi tonge1596stille.What advantage is it to great and worthy men to be extolled after death?¶ But what is it to þise noble worþi men.For certys of swyche folk speke .I. þat seken glorie wiþvertue. what is it quod she. what atteiniþ fame toswiche folk whan þe body is resolued by þe deeþ. atte1600þe last[e].If body and soul die, then there can be no glory; nor can there be when he (to whom it is ascribed) does not exist.¶ For yif so be þat men dien in al. þat isto seyne bodyandsoule. þe whiche þing oure resoundefendiþ vs to byleuen þanne is þere no glorie in nowyse. For what sholde þilke glorie ben. for he of1604whomþis glorie is seid to be nis ryÈt nouÈt in no wise.But if the soul is immortal when it leaves the body, it takes no thought of the joys of this world.and Èif þe soule whiche þat haþ in it self science ofgoode werkes vnbounden fro þe prisounof þe erþewendeþ frely to þe heuene. dispiseþ it nouÈt þan alle1608erþely occupaciouns.andbeynge inheuene reioiseþ þatit is exempt from alle erþely þinges [as wo seith /thanne rekketh the sowle of no glorye of renounof thisworld].16121487desired[e]—desyre1489wex olde—wax old1492whiche—whichspeke—spekyn1496tollen—MS. tellen, C. tollen1497ful[le]—fulle1501al prise—alle prys1505seye—seyn1507wolde—woldynalle—al[ne]—from C.1510lerned—ylerned1512þouÈte—thowhtmyche—moche1513 [the]—from C.1514myche space—moche spaces1515seye—seyn1516streite—streyt1517þan—thanne1518inne—inleest[e]—lesteþilk—thilkeþenke Èe—thinken ye1520born forþe—MS. borne, C. born, forthnarwe—narwh1521streyt—streytemyche—mochel1522conteinþe—coueyteth1525habitacle—MS. habitache, C. habytacule1529 [nat]—from C.1531last[e]—laste1532writeþ—writ1533hadde—haddenÈitte—omitted1534hyÈt—hyhteþilk—thikke1535wexen—waxen1536Sest þou—sestow1538shew—shewe1539singlere—singler1545comeþ—comth it1547furþe—forthmanere—maner1548þerfore—ther-forauÈte—owhte1549paied—apayedhys owen—hise owne1550neyÈbores—nessheboursbe—ben1552haþ—MS. haþe1553put(MS.putte)oute—put owt1556derke—derkdoþ aweye—MS. doþe, C. doth a-weyher autours—hir actorros1557Èe—yowsemen—semeth1558comyng—to comynge1559wilt—wolt1560whiche—which1563myche—mochel1564þo—thehaþ—MS. haþesome—som1566self—selue1567be(2)—ben1568een[de]les—endeles1569mad—MS. made, C. maked[but——comparysoun]—from C.1573by—to1580whiche—swych1581scorned[e]—scornede1582swiche—swychsomtyme—whilom1583had[de]—hadde1584whiche—whichproude—prowd1586speke—spak1587þouÈt[e]—thowhteassay[e]—assaye1588seyne—seyn1590feined[e]—feynede1592aÈeine—ayein1593last[e]—lastevndirstondest þou—vndyrstondow1594answered[e]—answerde1595had[de]—hadde1596 [yt]—from C.1601last[e]—laste1602seyne—seyn1604for(2)—whan1605þis—thilkeseid—MS. seide, C. seydnouÈt—nawht1606haþ—MS. haþe1608nouÈt þan—nat thanne1610from—fro1610-1612 [as——world]—from C.DEATH PUTS AN END TO RENOWN.[The 7th Metre.]QUICUMQUESOLAM MENTE.Who so þatLet him who seeks fame, thinking it to be the sovereign good, look upon the broad universe and this circumscribed earth; and he will then despise a glorious name limited to such a confined space.wiþ ouerþrowyng þouÈt only sekeþ glorieof fame.andweniþ þat it be souereyne good¶ Lete hym loke vpon þe brode shewyng contreys ofþe heuen.andvponþe streite sete of þis erþe.and1616he shal be ashamed of þe encres of his name. þat maynat fulfille þe litel compas of þe erþe. ¶ O whatcoueiten proude folke to liften vpon hire nekkes inydelanddedely Èok of þis worlde.Will splendid titles and renown prolong a man’s life?¶ For al þouÈ1620[þat] renoune y-spradde passynge to ferne poeples goþby dyuerse tonges. and al þouÈ grete housesandkynredesshyne wiþ clere titles of honours.In the grave there is no distinction between high and low.Èit naþelesdeeþ dispiseþ al heye glorie of fame.anddeeþ wrappeþ1624to gidre þe heye heuedesandþe loweandmakeþ egalandeuene þe heyest[e] to þe lowest[e].Where is the good Fabricius now?¶ wherewonennow þe bones of trewe fabricius.Where the noble Brutus, or stern Cato?what isnow brutus or stiern Caton þe þinne fame Èit lastynge1628of hir ydel names is markid wiþ a fewe lettres.Their empty names still live, but of their persons we know nothing.butal þouÈ we han knowenþe faire wordes of þe fames ofhem. it is nat Èeuen to knowe hemþat ben dedeandconsumpt.Fame cannot make you known.Liggiþ þanne stille al vtterly vnknowable1632ne fame ne makeþ Èow nat knowe. and yif Èe weneto lyuen þe lengerfor wynde of Èoure mortal name.whan o cruel day shal rauyshe Èow. þan is þe secundedeeþ dwellyng in Èow.It will be effaced by conquering Time, so that death will be doubly victorious.Glosa.þe first deeþ he clepiþ1636here þe departynge of þe bodyandþe soule. ¶ andþe secunde deeþ he clepeþ as here. þe styntynge ofþe renoune of fame.33The next three chapters are from the Camb. MS.1615Lete—Latloke—looken1616sete—Cyte1617be—ben1619vpon—vp1620and dedely—in the dedly1621y-spradde—ysprad[þat]—from C.ferne—MS. serue, C. fernegoþ—MS. goþe, C. goth1622and(2)—or1623shyne—shynenclere—cler1624al—alle1626heyest[e]—heyostelowest[e]—loweste1628stiern—MS. sciern, C. stierne1632consumpt—consumpte1634lenger—longere1637þe(1)—omitted1639renoune—renounADVERSE FORTUNE IS BENEFICIAL.[The viij prose.][SET NE ME INEXORABILE CONTRA.BVt‘But do not believe,’ said Philosophy, ‘that I am an implacable enemy to Fortune.for-as-mochel as thow shalt nat wenen quodshe1640þat I bere vntretable batayle ayenis fortune //This inconstant dame sometimes deserves well of men, when she appears in her true colours.yitsom-tyme it by-falleth þat she desseyuable desseruethto han ryht good thank of men //Andþat is whan shehireself opneth /andwhan she descouereth hir frownt /1644andsheweth hir maneres par-auentureyit vndirstondesthownat þat .I. shal seye //And what I say may perhaps appear paradoxical.it is a wondyr þat .I.desyreto telle /That is, that adverse fortune is more beneficial than prosperous fortune.andforthi vnnethe may I. vnpleyten mysentense withwordes for I. deme þat contraryos fortune1648profiteth moreto men than fortune debonayre//The latter lies and deceives us, the former displays her natural inconstancy.Foral-wey whan fortune semeth debonayrethan she lyethfalsly in by-hetynge the hope of welefulnesse // but forsothecontraryos fortune is alwey sothfast / whan she1652sheweth hir self vnstable thorw hyr chaungynge //That deceives us, this instructs us; that, by a fallacious show of good, enslaves the mind; this, by the knowledge of her fickleness, frees and absolves it.theamyable fortune desseyueth folk / the contrarye fortunetecheth // the amyable fortune byndeth withthe beauteof false goodys the hertes of folk þat vsen hem/ the1656contrarye fortune vnbyndeth hemby þeknowynge offreele welefulnesse //The one is wavering and incapable of reflection, the other is staid and wise through experience of adversity.the amyable fortune maysthow senalwey wyndyngeandflowynge /andeuere mysknowyngeof hir self // the contrarye fortune is a-tempreandrestreynyd1660andwys thorw excersyse of hir aduersyte //Lastly, prosperous fortune leads men astray. Adversity teaches them wherein real happiness consists.atthe laste amyable fortune withhir flaterynges drawethmys wandrynge men fro the souereyne good // the contraryosfortune ledith ofte folk ayein to sothfast goodes /1664andhaleth hem ayein as withan hooke /It renders us no inconsiderable service in enabling us to recognize our true friends.weenesthowthanne þat thow owhtest to leten this a lytel thing / þatthis aspreandhorible fortune hath discoueryd to the / thethowhtes of thy trewe frendes // For-why this ilke fortune1668hath departydandvncoueryd to the bothe thecerteyn vysagesandek the dowtos visages of thyfelawes // whanshe departyd awey fro the / she tookawey hyr frendesandlafte the thyne frendes //At what price would you not have bought this knowledge in your prosperity?now1672whan thow wererycheandweleful as the semede / withhow mochel woldesthow han bowht the fulle knowyngeof this // þat is to seyn the knowynge of thyverray freendes //Complain not, then, of loss of wealth, since thou hast found infinitely greater riches in your true friends.now pleyne the nat thanne of Rychesse1676.I.-lorn syn thow hast fowndyn the moste presyos kyndeof Rychesses þat is to seyn thy verray frendes.ALL THINGS BOUND BY THE CHAIN OF LOVE.[The viij Metur.]QUOD MUNDUS STABILI FIDE.THatThis world, by an invariable order, suffers change.þeworld withstable feith / varieth acordablechaungynges //Elements, that by nature disagree, are restrained by concord.þat the contraryos qualite of elementÈ1680holden amongehem self aliaunce perdurable / þat phebusthe sonne withhis goldene chariet / bryngeth forth therosene day / þat the mone hathcommaundement ouerthenyhtes // whiche nyhtes hesperus the eue sterre hat browt //1684The sea is thus kept within its proper bounds.þat þese gredy to flowen constreyneth witha certeyn endehise floodes / so þat it is nat l[e]ueful to strechche hisebrode termes or bowndes vp-on the erthes // þat is to seynto couere alle the erthe //This concord is produced by love, which governeth earth and sea, and extends its influence to the heavens.Al this a-cordaunce of thinges1688is bownden withlooue / þat gouerneth ertheandsee /andhath alsocommaundementÈ to the heuenes /If this chain of love were broken all things would be in perpetual strife, and the world would go to ruin.andyifthis looue slakede the brydelis / alle thinges þat nowlouen hem to gederes / wolden maken a batayle contynuely1692andstryuen to fordoon the fasounof this worlde /the which they now leden in acordable feith by fayremoeuynges //Love binds nations together, it ties the nuptial knot, and dictates binding laws to friendship.this looue halt to gideres poeples Ioygnedwithan hooly bond /andknytteth sacrement of maryages1696of chaste looues // And loue enditeth lawes totrewe felawes //Men were truly blest if governed by this celestial love!’O weleful weeremankynde / yif thilkeloue þat gouerneth heuene gouerned[e] yowrecorages /EXPLICIT LIBER2us.1690hath—H. he hathBOETHIUS IS COMFORTED BY PHILOSOPHY’S SONG.INCIPIT LIBER3us.[The fyrste prose.]IAM CANTUMILLA FINIERAT.By this shePhilosophy now ended her song.hadde endid hiresonge/ whan the swetnesse1700of hireditee hadde thorw perced me þat was desirousof herkninge /I was so charmed that I kept a listening as if she were still speaking.and.I. astoned hadde yit streyhte mynEres / þat is to seyn to herkne the bet / what she woldeseye //At last I said, O sovereign comforter of dejected minds, how much hast thou refreshed me with the energy of thy discourse, so that I now think myself almost an equal match for Fortune and able to resist her blows.so þat a litel hereafter.I. seyde thus // O thow1704þat art souereyn comfort of Angwissos corages // So thowhast remountedandnorysshed me withthe weyhte of thysentensesandwithdelit of thy syngynge // so þat .I. trowenat now þat .I. be vnparygal to the strokes of fortune / as1708whoseyth. I.dar wel now suffren al the assautes of fortuneandwel deffende me fro hyr //I fear not, therefore, thy remedies, but earnestly desire to hear what they are.andtho remedieswhyche þat thow seydest hirebyforn weren ryht sharpeNat oonly pat .I. am nat agrysen of hem now // but .I. desiros1712of herynge axe gretely to heeren tho remedyes //P.When I perceived that, silent and attentive, you received my words, I expected to find such a state of mind in you, or rather, I created in you such an one.than seyde she thus // þat feelede .I. ful wel quodshe //whan þat thow ententyfandstylle rauysshedest mywordes //and.I. abood til þat thow haddest swych habyte1716of thy thowght as thow hast now // or elles tyl þat .I.my self had[de] maked to the the same habyt / whichþat is a moore verray thinge//What remains to be said is of such a nature that when it is first tasted it is pungent and unpleasant, but when once swallowed it turns sweet, and is grateful to the stomach.And certes the remenauntof thinges þat ben yit to seye / ben swyche // þat fyrst1720whan men tasten hem they ben bytynge / but whanthey ben resseyuyd with-inne a whyht than ben theyswete //But because you say you would now gladly hear, with what desire would you burn if you could imagine whither I am going to lead you?but for thow seyst þat thow art so desirous toherkne hem // wit[h] how gret brennynge woldesthow1724glowen / yif thow wystest whyder .I. wol leden the //B.Whither is that, I pray?whydyreis þat quod.I. //P.To that true felicity, of which you seem to have but a faint foretaste.to thilke verray welefulnessequodshe // of whyche thynge herte dremeth //But your sight is clouded with false forms, so that it cannot yet behold this same felicity.butfor as moche as thy syhte is ocupiedanddistorbed / by1728Imagynasyon of herthely thynges / thow mayst nat yitsen thilke selue welefulnesse //B.Show me, I pray, that true happiness without delay.do quod.I.andsheweme / what is thilke verray welefulnesse / .I. preye thewith-howte tarynge //P.I will gladly do so at your desire, but I will first describe that false cause (of happiness), so that you may be better able to comprehend the exact model.þat wole .I. gladly don quodshe /1732for the cause of the // but .I. wol fyrst marken the bywordes /andI wol enforcen me to enformen the //thilke false cause of blysfulnesse þat thow more knowest /so þat whan thow hast fully by-holden thilke false1736goodesandtorned thyne eyen to þat oother syde / thowmowe knowe the clernesse of verray blysfulnesse //]1702streyhte—H. strenghed1712am nat—H. nam nought1718had[de]—H. hade1734wol—H. shalle1739wil—wolefelde—feeldAWAY WITH FALSE FELICITY!Here the Add. MS. begins again.[The fyrst metur.]*QUI SERERE INGENIUM.He who would sow seed must first clear the ground of useless weeds, so that he may reap an abundant harvest.¶ Who so wil sowe a felde plentiuous. lat hym firstdelyuer it of þornesandkerue asondre wiþ his hooke1740þe bushesandþe ferne so þat þe corne may comenheuyof eresandof greins.Honey tastes all the sweeter to a palate disgusted by offensive flavours.hony is þe more swete yif mouþeshan firste tastid sauoures þat ben wikke.The stars shine all the clearer when the southern showery blasts cease to blow.¶ þe sterresshynen more agreably whan þe wynde Nothus letiþ his1744ploungy blastes.When Lucifer has chased away the dark night, then PhÅ“bus mounts his gay chariot.andaftir þat lucifer þe day sterre haþchased awey þe derke nyÈt. þe day þe feirer lediþ þerosene horse of þe sonne.So you, beholding the false felicity, and withdrawing your neck from the yoke of earthly affections, will soon see the sovereign good.¶ RyÈt so þou byholdyngfirst þe fals[e] goodes. bygynne to wiþdrawe þi nek[ke]1748fro þe Èok of erþely affecciouns.andafterwarde þeverrey goodes shollenentre into þi corage.1740delyuer—delyuereof—frohooke—hook1741bushes—bossesferne—ferncorne—korn1743firste—fyrstwikke—wyckyd1744wynde—wyndhis—hise1745haþ—MS. haþe1746feirer—fayrere1747horse—horsRyÈt—And Ryht1748fals[e]—falsebygynne—bygynwiþdrawe—withdrawennek[ke]—nekke1749afterwarde—affterward1750entre—entrenTHE DESIRE OF THE TRUE GOOD.[The 2deprose.]TUNC DEFIXO PAULULUM.ÞO fastned[e]Philosophy, with a serious air, and appearing to recollect herself, and to rouse up all her faculties, thus began.she a lytel þe syÈt of hir eyenandwiþdrowhir ryÈt as it were in to þe streite sete of hir1752þouÈt.andbygan to speke ryÈt þus.All the cares and desires of men seek one end—happiness.Alle þe curesquod she of mortal folk whiche þat trauaylen hem inmany manere studies gon certys by diuerse weies.[* fol. 15b.]¶ But naþeles þei enforced hem *to comen oonly to on1756ende of blisfulnesseTrue happiness is that complete good which, once obtained, leaves nothing more to be desired.[And blysfulnesse] is swiche a goodeþat who so haþ geten it he ne may ouer þat no þing moredesiire.It is the sovereign good, and comprehends all others. It lacks nothing, otherwise it could not be the supreme good.and þis þing for soþe is þe souereyne good þat conteiniþin hym self al manere goodes. to þe whiche goode1760yif þere failed[e] any þing. it myÈt[e] nat ben souereynegoode. ¶ For þan were þere som goode out of þis ilke souereynegoode þat myÈt[e] ben desired.Happiness is, therefore, that perfect state, in which all other goods meet and centre.Now is it clereandcerteyne þanþat blisfulnesse is a perfit estat by þe congregacioun1764of alle goodes.It is the object which all men strive after.¶ þe whiche blisfulnesse asI haue seid alle mortal folke enforcen hem to geten bydyuerse weyes.A desire of the true good is a natural instinct, but error misleads them to pursue false joys.¶ For-whi þe couetise of verray goodeis naturely y-plaunted in þe hertys of men. ¶ But þe1768myswandryng errourmyslediþ hem in to fals[e] goodes.Some, imagining the supreme good to consist in lacking nothing, labour for an abundance ofriches; others, supposing that this good lies in thereverenceandesteemof their fellow men, strive to acquire honourable positions.¶ of þe whiche men some of hem wenen þat souereygnegoode is to lyue wiþ outen nede of any þing.andtraueilenhem to ben habundaunt of rycchesse.1772and some oþer men demen. þat souerein goode be fortobe ryÈt digne of reuerences.andenforcenhem to benreuerenced among hir neyÈbours. by þe honours þat þeihan ygetenThere are some, again, who place it in supremepower, and seek to rule, or to be favoured by the ruling powers.¶andsome folk þer ben þat halden þat1776ryÈt heyÈe power to be souereyn goode.andenforcenhemforto regnen or ellys to ioignenhemto hem þatregnen.There are those who fancyfameto be the height of happiness, and seek by the arts of war or peace to get renown.¶ And it semeþ to some oþer folk þat noblesseof renounbe þe souerein goode.andhasten hem to1780geten glorious name by þe artes of werre or of pees.Many there are who believe nothing to be better thanjoyandgladness, and think it delightful to plunge into luxury.and many folke mesurenandgessen þat souerein goodebe ioyeandgladnesseandwenen þat it be ryÈt blisful[thynge] to ploungen hem inuoluptuous delit.Some there are who use these causes and ends interchangeably, as those who desire riches as a means of getting power; or who desire power in order to get money or renown.¶ And1784þer ben folk þat enterchaungen þe causesandþe endesof þise forseide goodes as þei þat desirenrycchesse tohan poweranddelices. Or ellis þei desiren power fortohan moneye or for cause of renoun.In all they do they have a particular end in view.¶ In þise þinges1788andinswyche oþer þinges is tourned al þe entenciounof desiryngesand[of] werkes of men. ¶ As þus.FRIENDSHIP A SACRED THING.Nobility and popular favour are sought after by some in order to become famous.¶ Noblesseandfauourof poeple whiche þat Èiueþ as itsemeþ a manere clernesse of renoun.By others, wives and children are only desired as sources of pleasure.¶ and wijfand1792children þat men desiren for cause of delitandmirinesse.Friendship must not be reckoned among the goods of fortune, but among those of virtue, for it is a very sacred thing.¶ But forsoþe frendes ne shollen nat benrekkenedamong þe goodes of fortune but of vertue. for itis a ful holy manere þing.All else are desired either for the power or pleasure they afford.alle þise oþer þinges forsoþe1796ben taken for cause of power. or ellis for cause ofdelit.The goods of the body fall under the same predicament.¶ Certis now am I redy to referen þe goodes ofþe body to þise forseide þinges abouen.Strength and a good stature seem to give power and worthiness.¶ For it semeþþat strengþeandgretnesse of body Èeuen powerand1800worþinesse.Beauty and swiftness give glory and fame; and health gives delight.¶ and þat beauteandswiftenesse Èeuennoblesseandglorie of renoun.andhele of body semeþÈiuen delit.In all these happiness alone is sought.¶ In alle þise þingusit semeþ oonly þatblisfulnesse is desired.What a man most wishes for, that he esteems the supreme good, which, as we have defined, is happiness.¶ For-whi þilke þing þat euery1804man desireþ moost ouer alle þinges. he demiþ þat be þesouereyne goode. ¶ But I haue diffined þat blisfulnesseis þe souereyne goode. for whiche euery wyÈtdemiþ þat þilke estat þat he desireþ ouer alle þinges þat1808it be þe blisfulnesse.Thou hast now before thee a view of human felicity (falsely so called), that is, riches, honours, power, glory, and delight, which lastEpicurusconsidered as the sovereign good.¶ Now hast þou þan byforne[thy eyen] almost al þe purposed forme of þe welfulnesseof mankynde. þat is to seyne rycchesse. honours.power. glorie.anddelitÈ. þe whiche delit oonly considered1812Epicurus Iugedandestablissed. þat delit is þesouereyne goode. for as myche as alle oþer þinges ashym þouÈt[e] by-refte awey ioieandmyrþe fromþeherte.I now return to the inclinations and pursuits of mankind.¶ But I retourne aÈeyne to þe studies of meen.1816of whiche men þe corage alwey rehersiþandseekeþ þesouereyne goode of alle be it so þat it be wiþ a derkememorie [but he not by whiche paath].Their minds are bent upon the chief good, and are ever seeking it with a darkened understanding, like a drunken man, who cannot find his way home.¶ RyÈt as adronke mannot nat by whiche paþe he may retourne1820home to hys house.Do they go astray who strive to keep themselves from want?¶ Semeþ it þanne þat folk folyenanderren þat enforcen hemto haue nede of no þingALL SEEK THE CHIEF GOOD.By no means. No state is happier than that in which a man is above want, and independent of others.¶ Certys þer nys non oþer þing þat may so weel perfourny[* fol. 16.]blisfulnesse as an estat plenteuous*of alle1824goodes þat ne haþ nede of none oþer þing. but þat it issuffisant of hymself. vnto hym self.Are they guilty of folly that seek esteem and reverence?and foleyenswyche folk þanne. þat wenen þat þilk þing þat isryÈt goode. þat it be eke ryÈt worþi of honourandof1828reuerence.No; for that is not contemptible for which all men strive.¶ Certis nay. for þat þing nys neyþer foulene worþi to ben dispised þat al þe entenciounof mortelfolke trauaille forto geten it.Is not power to be reckoned amongst desirable goods?¶ And power auÈt[e]nat þat eke to be rekened amonges goodesWhy not? For that is not an insignificant good which invests a man with authority and command.what ellis.1832for it nys nat to wene þat þilke þing þat is mostworþi of alle þinges be febleandwiþ out strengþeandclernesse of renounauÈte þat to ben dispised.Fame also is to be regarded, for everything excellent is also shining and renowned.¶ Certysþer may no man forsake þat al þing þat is ryÈt excellent1836andnoble. þat it ne semeþ to be ryÈt clereandrenomed.We hardly need say that happiness is not an unjoyous and melancholy state, for in the pursuit of the smallest matters men seek only pleasure.¶ For certis it nediþ nat to seie. þat blisfulnessebe anguissous ne dreri ne subgit to greuances neto sorwes. syn þat in ryÈt litel þingusfolk seken to1840haueandto vsen þat may deliten hem.Hence it is that mankind seek riches, &c., because by them they hope to get independence, honour, &c.¶ Certys þiseben þe þinges þat men wolenanddesyren to geten.and for þis cause desiren þei rycches. dignites. regnes.glorieanddelices ¶ For þerby wenen þei to han suffisaunce1844honourpower. renounandgladnesse.However varied their desires,happinessis their sole pursuit.¶ þanneis it goode. þat men seken þus by so many dyuersestudies. In whiche desijr it may lyÈtly be shewed.how grete is þe strengþe of nature.However various men’s opinions are respecting happiness, all agree in pursuing it as the end of their actions and desires.¶ For how so þat1848men han dyuerse sentencesanddiscordyng algates menaccordyn alle in lyuynge þe ende of goode.
1458greet[e]—grete1460letee—let1461somtyme slouÈ—whilom slow1463let—lette1464where—wher1465half—halue1466myÈt[e]—myhte1467hire—hyr1468neuerþeles—nathelesgouerned[e]—gouernedeal—alle1469from—framouterest—owtereste1470hidde—hide1471seyne—seyn1472goþ—MS. goþe, C. goth1473goueyrende—gouernyd1474triones—tyryones1475gouerned[e]—gouernede1476parties—partynorþe—northgouerned[e]—gouernede1477wynde—wyndscorchiþ—scorklith1479seyne—seynsouþe—sowth1479-81 [but——it is]—MS.has: but ne how greuous fortune is1482swerde—swerd
1458greet[e]—grete
1460letee—let
1461somtyme slouÈ—whilom slow
1463let—lette
1464where—wher
1465half—halue
1466myÈt[e]—myhte
1467hire—hyr
1468neuerþeles—nathelesgouerned[e]—gouernedeal—alle
1469from—framouterest—owtereste
1470hidde—hide
1471seyne—seyn
1472goþ—MS. goþe, C. goth
1473goueyrende—gouernyd
1474triones—tyryones
1475gouerned[e]—gouernede
1476parties—partynorþe—northgouerned[e]—gouernede
1477wynde—wyndscorchiþ—scorklith
1479seyne—seynsouþe—sowth
1479-81 [but——it is]—MS.has: but ne how greuous fortune is
1482swerde—swerd
THE LOVE OF GLORY.
ÞAnne seide IB.Thou knowest that I did not covet mortal and transitory things.þus. þou wost wel þiself þat þe1484couetise of mortal þinges ne hadden neuer lordshipeof me. but I haue wel desired matere of þingesto done. as who seiþ.I only wished to exercise my virtue in public concerns, lest it should grow feeble by inactivity.I desired[e] to han matere ofgouernaunce ouer comunalites. ¶ For vertue stille ne1488sholde not elden. þat is to seyn. þat list þat or he wexolde ¶ His uertue þat lay now ful stille. ne sholdenat perisshe vnexcercised ingouernaunce of comune.¶ For whiche men myÈten speke or writenof his1492goode gouernement.P.A love of glory is one of those things that may captivate minds naturally great, but not yet arrived at the perfection of virtue.¶Philosophie.¶ For soþe quodshe.andþat is a þing þat may drawen to gouernaunceswiche hertes as ben worþiandnoble of hir nature.but naþeles it may nat drawen or tollen swiche hertes as1496ben y-brouÈt to þe ful[le] perfecciounof vertue. þat isto seyn couetyse of glorieandrenounto han weladministred þe comune þinges. or doon goode decertesto profit of þe comune.But consider how small and void of weight is that glory.for se nowandconsidere how1500litelandhow voide of al prise is þilke glorie.Astronomy teaches us that this globe of earth is but a speck compared with the extent of the heavens, and is as nothing if compared with the magnitude of the celestial sphere.¶ Certeineþing is as þou hast lerned by demonstraciounofastronomye þat al þe envyronynge of þe erþe aboutene halt but þe resounof a prykke at regard of þe gretnesse1504of heuene. þat is to seye. þat yif þat þer weremaked comparisounof þe erþe to þe gretnesse ofheuene. men wolde Iugen in alle þat erþe [ne] heldeno spacePtolemy shows that only one-fourth of this earth is inhabited by living creatures.¶ Of þe whiche litel regiounof þis worlde1508þe ferþe partie is enhabitid wiþ lyuyng beestes þatwe knowen. as þou hast þi self lerned by tholome þatprouitħ it.Deduct from this the space occupied by seas, marshes, lakes, and deserts, and there remains but a small proportion left for the abode of man.¶ yif þou haddest wiþ drawenandabatedin þi þouÈte fro þilke ferþe partie as myche space as þe1512seeand[the] mareys contenenandouergonandasmyche space as þe regiounof droughte ouerstreccheþ.
FAME IS CIRCUMSCRIBED.
þat is to seye sandesanddesertes wel vnneþ sholde[* fol. 14b.]*þer dwellen a ryÈt streite place to þe habitaciounof1516men.And do you, who are confined to the least point of this point, think of nothing but of blazing far and wide your name and reputation?andÈe þan þat ben environedandclosed wiþinne þe leest[e] prikke of þilk prikke þenke Èe tomanifesten Èoure renounanddon Èoure name to benborn forþe.What is there great in a glory so circumscribed?but Èoureglorie þat is so narweandso1520streyt yþrongenin to so litel boundes. how mycheconteinþe it in largesseandin greet doynge.Even in this contracted circle, there is a great variety of nations, to whom not only the fame of particular men, but even of great cities, cannot extend.And alsosette þis þer to þat many a nacioundyuerse of tongeandof maneres.andeke of resounof hir lyuyng ben1524enhabitid in þe cloos of þilke litel habitacle. ¶ To þewhiche naciouns what for difficulte of weyes.andwhatfor diuersite of langages.andwhat for defaute ofvnusage entercomunynge of marchaundise. nat only þe1528names of singler men ne may [nat] strecchen. but ekeþe fame of Citees ne may nat strecchen.In the time of Marcus Tullius the fame of Rome did not reach beyond Mount Caucasus.¶ At þelast[e] Certis in þe tyme of Marcus tulyus as hymself writeþ in his book þat þe renounof þe comune of1532Rome ne hadde nat Èitte passed ne cloumben ouerþemountaigne þat hyÈt Caucasus.andÈitte was þilktyme rome wel wexenandgretly redouted of þe parthes.and eke of oþer folk enhabityng aboute.How narrow, then, is that glory which you labour to propagate.¶ Sest þou1536nat þan how streitandhow compressed is þilke glorieþat Èe trauailenaboute to shewandto multiplie.Shall the glory of a Roman citizen reach those places where the name even of Rome was never heard?Mayþan þe glorie of a singlere Romeyne strecchen þideras þe fame of þe name of Rome may nat clymben ne1540passen.Customs and institutions differ in different countries.¶ And eke sest þou nat þat þe maners ofdiuerse folkandeke hir lawes ben discordaunt amongehem self.What is praise-worthy in one is blame-worthy in another.so þat þilke þing þat sommen iugen worþi ofpreysynge. oþer folk iugen þat it is worþi of torment.1544It is not the interest of any man who desires renown to have his name spread through many countries.
FAME IS NOT ETERNAL.
¶ and þer of comeþ þat þouÈ a man delite hyminpreysyng of his renoun. he ne may nat inno wisebryngen furþe ne spredenhis name to many manerepeoples.He ought, therefore, to be satisfied with the glory he has acquired at home.¶ And þerfore euery manerman auÈte to ben1548paied of hys glorie þat is puplissed among hys owenneyÈbores.But of how many personages, illustrious in their times, have the memorials been lost through the carelessness and neglect of writers.¶ And þilke noble renounshal berestreyned wiþ-inne þe boundes of o maner folk but howmany a man þat was ful noble in his tyme. haþ þe1552nedyandwrecched forÈetynge of writers put oute ofmyndeanddon awey.But writings do not preserve the names of men for ever.¶ Al be it so þat certys þilkewritynges profiten litel. þe whiche writynges longeandderke elde doþ aweye boþe hemandeke her autours.But perhaps you suppose that you shall secure immortality if your names are transmitted to future ages.but1556Èe men semen to geten Èow a perdurablete whan Èeþenke þat in tyme comyng Èoure fame shal lasten.If you consider the infinite space of eternity you will have no reason to rejoice in this supposition.¶ Butnaþeles yif þou wilt maken comparisounto þe endelesspace of eternite what þing hast þou by whiche þou1560maist reioysen þe of long lastyng of þi name.If amomentbe compared with 10,000 years, there is a proportion between them, though a very small one.¶ Forif þer were maked comparysounof þe abidyng of amoment to ten þousand wynter. for as myche as boþeþo spaces ben endid. ¶ For Èit haþ þe moment some1564porciounof hit al þouÈ it a litel be.But this number of years, multiplied by whatever sum you please, vanishes when compared with the infinite extent of eternity.¶ But naþelesþilke self noumbre of Èeres. and eke as many Èeres asþer to may be multiplied. ne may nat certys be comparisoundto þe perdurablete þat is een[de]les.There may be comparison between finite things, but none between the infinite and finite.¶ For of1568þinges þat han ende may be mad comparisoun[but ofthinges that ben with-owtyn ende to thinges þat han endemay be maked nocomparysoun].Hence it is, that Fame (however lasting), compared with eternity, will seem absolutely nothing.¶ And for þi is it alþouÈ renounof as longe tyme as euer þe lyst to þinken1572were þouÈt by þe regard of eternite. þat is vnstauncheableandinfinit. it ne sholde nat oonly semen litel. butpleinliche ryÈt nouÈt.But yet you do good from no other view than to have the empty applause of the people, foregoing the pleasures of a good conscience in order to have the insignificant praises of other people.¶ But Èe men certys ne konnedon no þing aryÈt. but Èif it be for þe audience of poeple.1576andfor ydel rumours.andÈe forsaken þe grete worþinesseof conscienceandof vertue.andÈe sekenÈouregerdouns of þe smale wordes of strange folke.
VANITY REPROVED.
This silly vanity was once thus ingeniously and pleasantly rallied.¶ Haue now hereandvndirstonde inþe lyÈtnesse of whiche1580prideandveyne glorie. how a man scorned[e] festiualyandmyrily swiche vanite.A certain man, who had assumed the name of a philosopher through a love of vain-glory, was told by a man of humour that he could prove he was a philosopher by bearing patiently the injuries offered him.somtyme þere was a man þathad[de] assaied wiþ striuyng wordes an oþer man. ¶ þewhiche nat for vsage of verrey vertue. but for proude1584veyne glorie had[de] takenvpon hym falsly þe nameof a philosopher. ¶ þis raþer man þat I speke ofþouÈt[e] he wolde assay[e] where he þilke were aphilosopher or no. þat is to seyne yif he wolde han suffred1588[* fol. 15.]lyÈtly in pacience þe wronges *þat weren don vntohym.After counterfeiting patience for a while, the sophist said to the other, ‘You must surely confess that I am a philosopher.’¶ þis feined[e] philosophre took pacience alitel while.andwhan he hadde receiued wordes ofouterage he as in stryuynge aÈeineandreioysynge of1592hym self seide at þe last[e] ryÈt þus. ¶ vndirstondestþou nat þat I am a philosophere.‘I might have believed it,’ said the other, ‘had you held your tongue.’þat oþer man answered[e]aÈein ful bitynglyandseide. ¶ I had[de]wel vndirstonden [yt]. yif þou haddest holdenþi tonge1596stille.What advantage is it to great and worthy men to be extolled after death?¶ But what is it to þise noble worþi men.For certys of swyche folk speke .I. þat seken glorie wiþvertue. what is it quod she. what atteiniþ fame toswiche folk whan þe body is resolued by þe deeþ. atte1600þe last[e].If body and soul die, then there can be no glory; nor can there be when he (to whom it is ascribed) does not exist.¶ For yif so be þat men dien in al. þat isto seyne bodyandsoule. þe whiche þing oure resoundefendiþ vs to byleuen þanne is þere no glorie in nowyse. For what sholde þilke glorie ben. for he of1604whomþis glorie is seid to be nis ryÈt nouÈt in no wise.But if the soul is immortal when it leaves the body, it takes no thought of the joys of this world.and Èif þe soule whiche þat haþ in it self science ofgoode werkes vnbounden fro þe prisounof þe erþewendeþ frely to þe heuene. dispiseþ it nouÈt þan alle1608erþely occupaciouns.andbeynge inheuene reioiseþ þatit is exempt from alle erþely þinges [as wo seith /thanne rekketh the sowle of no glorye of renounof thisworld].1612
1487desired[e]—desyre1489wex olde—wax old1492whiche—whichspeke—spekyn1496tollen—MS. tellen, C. tollen1497ful[le]—fulle1501al prise—alle prys1505seye—seyn1507wolde—woldynalle—al[ne]—from C.1510lerned—ylerned1512þouÈte—thowhtmyche—moche1513 [the]—from C.1514myche space—moche spaces1515seye—seyn1516streite—streyt1517þan—thanne1518inne—inleest[e]—lesteþilk—thilkeþenke Èe—thinken ye1520born forþe—MS. borne, C. born, forthnarwe—narwh1521streyt—streytemyche—mochel1522conteinþe—coueyteth1525habitacle—MS. habitache, C. habytacule1529 [nat]—from C.1531last[e]—laste1532writeþ—writ1533hadde—haddenÈitte—omitted1534hyÈt—hyhteþilk—thikke1535wexen—waxen1536Sest þou—sestow1538shew—shewe1539singlere—singler1545comeþ—comth it1547furþe—forthmanere—maner1548þerfore—ther-forauÈte—owhte1549paied—apayedhys owen—hise owne1550neyÈbores—nessheboursbe—ben1552haþ—MS. haþe1553put(MS.putte)oute—put owt1556derke—derkdoþ aweye—MS. doþe, C. doth a-weyher autours—hir actorros1557Èe—yowsemen—semeth1558comyng—to comynge1559wilt—wolt1560whiche—which1563myche—mochel1564þo—thehaþ—MS. haþesome—som1566self—selue1567be(2)—ben1568een[de]les—endeles1569mad—MS. made, C. maked[but——comparysoun]—from C.1573by—to1580whiche—swych1581scorned[e]—scornede1582swiche—swychsomtyme—whilom1583had[de]—hadde1584whiche—whichproude—prowd1586speke—spak1587þouÈt[e]—thowhteassay[e]—assaye1588seyne—seyn1590feined[e]—feynede1592aÈeine—ayein1593last[e]—lastevndirstondest þou—vndyrstondow1594answered[e]—answerde1595had[de]—hadde1596 [yt]—from C.1601last[e]—laste1602seyne—seyn1604for(2)—whan1605þis—thilkeseid—MS. seide, C. seydnouÈt—nawht1606haþ—MS. haþe1608nouÈt þan—nat thanne1610from—fro1610-1612 [as——world]—from C.
1487desired[e]—desyre
1489wex olde—wax old
1492whiche—whichspeke—spekyn
1496tollen—MS. tellen, C. tollen
1497ful[le]—fulle
1501al prise—alle prys
1505seye—seyn
1507wolde—woldynalle—al[ne]—from C.
1510lerned—ylerned
1512þouÈte—thowhtmyche—moche
1513 [the]—from C.
1514myche space—moche spaces
1515seye—seyn
1516streite—streyt
1517þan—thanne
1518inne—inleest[e]—lesteþilk—thilkeþenke Èe—thinken ye
1520born forþe—MS. borne, C. born, forthnarwe—narwh
1521streyt—streytemyche—mochel
1522conteinþe—coueyteth
1525habitacle—MS. habitache, C. habytacule
1529 [nat]—from C.
1531last[e]—laste
1532writeþ—writ
1533hadde—haddenÈitte—omitted
1534hyÈt—hyhteþilk—thikke
1535wexen—waxen
1536Sest þou—sestow
1538shew—shewe
1539singlere—singler
1545comeþ—comth it
1547furþe—forthmanere—maner
1548þerfore—ther-forauÈte—owhte
1549paied—apayedhys owen—hise owne
1550neyÈbores—nessheboursbe—ben
1552haþ—MS. haþe
1553put(MS.putte)oute—put owt
1556derke—derkdoþ aweye—MS. doþe, C. doth a-weyher autours—hir actorros
1557Èe—yowsemen—semeth
1558comyng—to comynge
1559wilt—wolt
1560whiche—which
1563myche—mochel
1564þo—thehaþ—MS. haþesome—som
1566self—selue
1567be(2)—ben
1568een[de]les—endeles
1569mad—MS. made, C. maked[but——comparysoun]—from C.
1573by—to
1580whiche—swych
1581scorned[e]—scornede
1582swiche—swychsomtyme—whilom
1583had[de]—hadde
1584whiche—whichproude—prowd
1586speke—spak
1587þouÈt[e]—thowhteassay[e]—assaye
1588seyne—seyn
1590feined[e]—feynede
1592aÈeine—ayein
1593last[e]—lastevndirstondest þou—vndyrstondow
1594answered[e]—answerde
1595had[de]—hadde
1596 [yt]—from C.
1601last[e]—laste
1602seyne—seyn
1604for(2)—whan
1605þis—thilkeseid—MS. seide, C. seydnouÈt—nawht
1606haþ—MS. haþe
1608nouÈt þan—nat thanne
1610from—fro
1610-1612 [as——world]—from C.
DEATH PUTS AN END TO RENOWN.
Who so þatLet him who seeks fame, thinking it to be the sovereign good, look upon the broad universe and this circumscribed earth; and he will then despise a glorious name limited to such a confined space.wiþ ouerþrowyng þouÈt only sekeþ glorieof fame.andweniþ þat it be souereyne good¶ Lete hym loke vpon þe brode shewyng contreys ofþe heuen.andvponþe streite sete of þis erþe.and1616he shal be ashamed of þe encres of his name. þat maynat fulfille þe litel compas of þe erþe. ¶ O whatcoueiten proude folke to liften vpon hire nekkes inydelanddedely Èok of þis worlde.Will splendid titles and renown prolong a man’s life?¶ For al þouÈ1620[þat] renoune y-spradde passynge to ferne poeples goþby dyuerse tonges. and al þouÈ grete housesandkynredesshyne wiþ clere titles of honours.In the grave there is no distinction between high and low.Èit naþelesdeeþ dispiseþ al heye glorie of fame.anddeeþ wrappeþ1624to gidre þe heye heuedesandþe loweandmakeþ egalandeuene þe heyest[e] to þe lowest[e].Where is the good Fabricius now?¶ wherewonennow þe bones of trewe fabricius.Where the noble Brutus, or stern Cato?what isnow brutus or stiern Caton þe þinne fame Èit lastynge1628of hir ydel names is markid wiþ a fewe lettres.Their empty names still live, but of their persons we know nothing.butal þouÈ we han knowenþe faire wordes of þe fames ofhem. it is nat Èeuen to knowe hemþat ben dedeandconsumpt.Fame cannot make you known.Liggiþ þanne stille al vtterly vnknowable1632ne fame ne makeþ Èow nat knowe. and yif Èe weneto lyuen þe lengerfor wynde of Èoure mortal name.whan o cruel day shal rauyshe Èow. þan is þe secundedeeþ dwellyng in Èow.It will be effaced by conquering Time, so that death will be doubly victorious.Glosa.þe first deeþ he clepiþ1636here þe departynge of þe bodyandþe soule. ¶ andþe secunde deeþ he clepeþ as here. þe styntynge ofþe renoune of fame.33The next three chapters are from the Camb. MS.
1615Lete—Latloke—looken1616sete—Cyte1617be—ben1619vpon—vp1620and dedely—in the dedly1621y-spradde—ysprad[þat]—from C.ferne—MS. serue, C. fernegoþ—MS. goþe, C. goth1622and(2)—or1623shyne—shynenclere—cler1624al—alle1626heyest[e]—heyostelowest[e]—loweste1628stiern—MS. sciern, C. stierne1632consumpt—consumpte1634lenger—longere1637þe(1)—omitted1639renoune—renoun
1615Lete—Latloke—looken
1616sete—Cyte
1617be—ben
1619vpon—vp
1620and dedely—in the dedly
1621y-spradde—ysprad[þat]—from C.ferne—MS. serue, C. fernegoþ—MS. goþe, C. goth
1622and(2)—or
1623shyne—shynenclere—cler
1624al—alle
1626heyest[e]—heyostelowest[e]—loweste
1628stiern—MS. sciern, C. stierne
1632consumpt—consumpte
1634lenger—longere
1637þe(1)—omitted
1639renoune—renoun
ADVERSE FORTUNE IS BENEFICIAL.
BVt‘But do not believe,’ said Philosophy, ‘that I am an implacable enemy to Fortune.for-as-mochel as thow shalt nat wenen quodshe1640þat I bere vntretable batayle ayenis fortune //This inconstant dame sometimes deserves well of men, when she appears in her true colours.yitsom-tyme it by-falleth þat she desseyuable desseruethto han ryht good thank of men //Andþat is whan shehireself opneth /andwhan she descouereth hir frownt /1644andsheweth hir maneres par-auentureyit vndirstondesthownat þat .I. shal seye //And what I say may perhaps appear paradoxical.it is a wondyr þat .I.desyreto telle /That is, that adverse fortune is more beneficial than prosperous fortune.andforthi vnnethe may I. vnpleyten mysentense withwordes for I. deme þat contraryos fortune1648profiteth moreto men than fortune debonayre//The latter lies and deceives us, the former displays her natural inconstancy.Foral-wey whan fortune semeth debonayrethan she lyethfalsly in by-hetynge the hope of welefulnesse // but forsothecontraryos fortune is alwey sothfast / whan she1652sheweth hir self vnstable thorw hyr chaungynge //That deceives us, this instructs us; that, by a fallacious show of good, enslaves the mind; this, by the knowledge of her fickleness, frees and absolves it.theamyable fortune desseyueth folk / the contrarye fortunetecheth // the amyable fortune byndeth withthe beauteof false goodys the hertes of folk þat vsen hem/ the1656contrarye fortune vnbyndeth hemby þeknowynge offreele welefulnesse //The one is wavering and incapable of reflection, the other is staid and wise through experience of adversity.the amyable fortune maysthow senalwey wyndyngeandflowynge /andeuere mysknowyngeof hir self // the contrarye fortune is a-tempreandrestreynyd1660andwys thorw excersyse of hir aduersyte //Lastly, prosperous fortune leads men astray. Adversity teaches them wherein real happiness consists.atthe laste amyable fortune withhir flaterynges drawethmys wandrynge men fro the souereyne good // the contraryosfortune ledith ofte folk ayein to sothfast goodes /1664andhaleth hem ayein as withan hooke /It renders us no inconsiderable service in enabling us to recognize our true friends.weenesthowthanne þat thow owhtest to leten this a lytel thing / þatthis aspreandhorible fortune hath discoueryd to the / thethowhtes of thy trewe frendes // For-why this ilke fortune1668hath departydandvncoueryd to the bothe thecerteyn vysagesandek the dowtos visages of thyfelawes // whanshe departyd awey fro the / she tookawey hyr frendesandlafte the thyne frendes //At what price would you not have bought this knowledge in your prosperity?now1672whan thow wererycheandweleful as the semede / withhow mochel woldesthow han bowht the fulle knowyngeof this // þat is to seyn the knowynge of thyverray freendes //Complain not, then, of loss of wealth, since thou hast found infinitely greater riches in your true friends.now pleyne the nat thanne of Rychesse1676.I.-lorn syn thow hast fowndyn the moste presyos kyndeof Rychesses þat is to seyn thy verray frendes.
ALL THINGS BOUND BY THE CHAIN OF LOVE.
THatThis world, by an invariable order, suffers change.þeworld withstable feith / varieth acordablechaungynges //Elements, that by nature disagree, are restrained by concord.þat the contraryos qualite of elementÈ1680holden amongehem self aliaunce perdurable / þat phebusthe sonne withhis goldene chariet / bryngeth forth therosene day / þat the mone hathcommaundement ouerthenyhtes // whiche nyhtes hesperus the eue sterre hat browt //1684The sea is thus kept within its proper bounds.þat þese gredy to flowen constreyneth witha certeyn endehise floodes / so þat it is nat l[e]ueful to strechche hisebrode termes or bowndes vp-on the erthes // þat is to seynto couere alle the erthe //This concord is produced by love, which governeth earth and sea, and extends its influence to the heavens.Al this a-cordaunce of thinges1688is bownden withlooue / þat gouerneth ertheandsee /andhath alsocommaundementÈ to the heuenes /If this chain of love were broken all things would be in perpetual strife, and the world would go to ruin.andyifthis looue slakede the brydelis / alle thinges þat nowlouen hem to gederes / wolden maken a batayle contynuely1692andstryuen to fordoon the fasounof this worlde /the which they now leden in acordable feith by fayremoeuynges //Love binds nations together, it ties the nuptial knot, and dictates binding laws to friendship.this looue halt to gideres poeples Ioygnedwithan hooly bond /andknytteth sacrement of maryages1696of chaste looues // And loue enditeth lawes totrewe felawes //Men were truly blest if governed by this celestial love!’O weleful weeremankynde / yif thilkeloue þat gouerneth heuene gouerned[e] yowrecorages /
EXPLICIT LIBER2us.
1690hath—H. he hath
1690hath—H. he hath
BOETHIUS IS COMFORTED BY PHILOSOPHY’S SONG.
By this shePhilosophy now ended her song.hadde endid hiresonge/ whan the swetnesse1700of hireditee hadde thorw perced me þat was desirousof herkninge /I was so charmed that I kept a listening as if she were still speaking.and.I. astoned hadde yit streyhte mynEres / þat is to seyn to herkne the bet / what she woldeseye //At last I said, O sovereign comforter of dejected minds, how much hast thou refreshed me with the energy of thy discourse, so that I now think myself almost an equal match for Fortune and able to resist her blows.so þat a litel hereafter.I. seyde thus // O thow1704þat art souereyn comfort of Angwissos corages // So thowhast remountedandnorysshed me withthe weyhte of thysentensesandwithdelit of thy syngynge // so þat .I. trowenat now þat .I. be vnparygal to the strokes of fortune / as1708whoseyth. I.dar wel now suffren al the assautes of fortuneandwel deffende me fro hyr //I fear not, therefore, thy remedies, but earnestly desire to hear what they are.andtho remedieswhyche þat thow seydest hirebyforn weren ryht sharpeNat oonly pat .I. am nat agrysen of hem now // but .I. desiros1712of herynge axe gretely to heeren tho remedyes //P.When I perceived that, silent and attentive, you received my words, I expected to find such a state of mind in you, or rather, I created in you such an one.than seyde she thus // þat feelede .I. ful wel quodshe //whan þat thow ententyfandstylle rauysshedest mywordes //and.I. abood til þat thow haddest swych habyte1716of thy thowght as thow hast now // or elles tyl þat .I.my self had[de] maked to the the same habyt / whichþat is a moore verray thinge//What remains to be said is of such a nature that when it is first tasted it is pungent and unpleasant, but when once swallowed it turns sweet, and is grateful to the stomach.And certes the remenauntof thinges þat ben yit to seye / ben swyche // þat fyrst1720whan men tasten hem they ben bytynge / but whanthey ben resseyuyd with-inne a whyht than ben theyswete //But because you say you would now gladly hear, with what desire would you burn if you could imagine whither I am going to lead you?but for thow seyst þat thow art so desirous toherkne hem // wit[h] how gret brennynge woldesthow1724glowen / yif thow wystest whyder .I. wol leden the //B.Whither is that, I pray?whydyreis þat quod.I. //P.To that true felicity, of which you seem to have but a faint foretaste.to thilke verray welefulnessequodshe // of whyche thynge herte dremeth //But your sight is clouded with false forms, so that it cannot yet behold this same felicity.butfor as moche as thy syhte is ocupiedanddistorbed / by1728Imagynasyon of herthely thynges / thow mayst nat yitsen thilke selue welefulnesse //B.Show me, I pray, that true happiness without delay.do quod.I.andsheweme / what is thilke verray welefulnesse / .I. preye thewith-howte tarynge //P.I will gladly do so at your desire, but I will first describe that false cause (of happiness), so that you may be better able to comprehend the exact model.þat wole .I. gladly don quodshe /1732for the cause of the // but .I. wol fyrst marken the bywordes /andI wol enforcen me to enformen the //thilke false cause of blysfulnesse þat thow more knowest /so þat whan thow hast fully by-holden thilke false1736goodesandtorned thyne eyen to þat oother syde / thowmowe knowe the clernesse of verray blysfulnesse //]
1702streyhte—H. strenghed1712am nat—H. nam nought1718had[de]—H. hade1734wol—H. shalle1739wil—wolefelde—feeld
1702streyhte—H. strenghed
1712am nat—H. nam nought
1718had[de]—H. hade
1734wol—H. shalle
1739wil—wolefelde—feeld
AWAY WITH FALSE FELICITY!
He who would sow seed must first clear the ground of useless weeds, so that he may reap an abundant harvest.¶ Who so wil sowe a felde plentiuous. lat hym firstdelyuer it of þornesandkerue asondre wiþ his hooke1740þe bushesandþe ferne so þat þe corne may comenheuyof eresandof greins.Honey tastes all the sweeter to a palate disgusted by offensive flavours.hony is þe more swete yif mouþeshan firste tastid sauoures þat ben wikke.The stars shine all the clearer when the southern showery blasts cease to blow.¶ þe sterresshynen more agreably whan þe wynde Nothus letiþ his1744ploungy blastes.When Lucifer has chased away the dark night, then PhÅ“bus mounts his gay chariot.andaftir þat lucifer þe day sterre haþchased awey þe derke nyÈt. þe day þe feirer lediþ þerosene horse of þe sonne.So you, beholding the false felicity, and withdrawing your neck from the yoke of earthly affections, will soon see the sovereign good.¶ RyÈt so þou byholdyngfirst þe fals[e] goodes. bygynne to wiþdrawe þi nek[ke]1748fro þe Èok of erþely affecciouns.andafterwarde þeverrey goodes shollenentre into þi corage.
1740delyuer—delyuereof—frohooke—hook1741bushes—bossesferne—ferncorne—korn1743firste—fyrstwikke—wyckyd1744wynde—wyndhis—hise1745haþ—MS. haþe1746feirer—fayrere1747horse—horsRyÈt—And Ryht1748fals[e]—falsebygynne—bygynwiþdrawe—withdrawennek[ke]—nekke1749afterwarde—affterward1750entre—entren
1740delyuer—delyuereof—frohooke—hook
1741bushes—bossesferne—ferncorne—korn
1743firste—fyrstwikke—wyckyd
1744wynde—wyndhis—hise
1745haþ—MS. haþe
1746feirer—fayrere
1747horse—horsRyÈt—And Ryht
1748fals[e]—falsebygynne—bygynwiþdrawe—withdrawennek[ke]—nekke
1749afterwarde—affterward
1750entre—entren
THE DESIRE OF THE TRUE GOOD.
ÞO fastned[e]Philosophy, with a serious air, and appearing to recollect herself, and to rouse up all her faculties, thus began.she a lytel þe syÈt of hir eyenandwiþdrowhir ryÈt as it were in to þe streite sete of hir1752þouÈt.andbygan to speke ryÈt þus.All the cares and desires of men seek one end—happiness.Alle þe curesquod she of mortal folk whiche þat trauaylen hem inmany manere studies gon certys by diuerse weies.[* fol. 15b.]¶ But naþeles þei enforced hem *to comen oonly to on1756ende of blisfulnesseTrue happiness is that complete good which, once obtained, leaves nothing more to be desired.[And blysfulnesse] is swiche a goodeþat who so haþ geten it he ne may ouer þat no þing moredesiire.It is the sovereign good, and comprehends all others. It lacks nothing, otherwise it could not be the supreme good.and þis þing for soþe is þe souereyne good þat conteiniþin hym self al manere goodes. to þe whiche goode1760yif þere failed[e] any þing. it myÈt[e] nat ben souereynegoode. ¶ For þan were þere som goode out of þis ilke souereynegoode þat myÈt[e] ben desired.Happiness is, therefore, that perfect state, in which all other goods meet and centre.Now is it clereandcerteyne þanþat blisfulnesse is a perfit estat by þe congregacioun1764of alle goodes.It is the object which all men strive after.¶ þe whiche blisfulnesse asI haue seid alle mortal folke enforcen hem to geten bydyuerse weyes.A desire of the true good is a natural instinct, but error misleads them to pursue false joys.¶ For-whi þe couetise of verray goodeis naturely y-plaunted in þe hertys of men. ¶ But þe1768myswandryng errourmyslediþ hem in to fals[e] goodes.Some, imagining the supreme good to consist in lacking nothing, labour for an abundance ofriches; others, supposing that this good lies in thereverenceandesteemof their fellow men, strive to acquire honourable positions.¶ of þe whiche men some of hem wenen þat souereygnegoode is to lyue wiþ outen nede of any þing.andtraueilenhem to ben habundaunt of rycchesse.1772and some oþer men demen. þat souerein goode be fortobe ryÈt digne of reuerences.andenforcenhem to benreuerenced among hir neyÈbours. by þe honours þat þeihan ygetenThere are some, again, who place it in supremepower, and seek to rule, or to be favoured by the ruling powers.¶andsome folk þer ben þat halden þat1776ryÈt heyÈe power to be souereyn goode.andenforcenhemforto regnen or ellys to ioignenhemto hem þatregnen.There are those who fancyfameto be the height of happiness, and seek by the arts of war or peace to get renown.¶ And it semeþ to some oþer folk þat noblesseof renounbe þe souerein goode.andhasten hem to1780geten glorious name by þe artes of werre or of pees.Many there are who believe nothing to be better thanjoyandgladness, and think it delightful to plunge into luxury.and many folke mesurenandgessen þat souerein goodebe ioyeandgladnesseandwenen þat it be ryÈt blisful[thynge] to ploungen hem inuoluptuous delit.Some there are who use these causes and ends interchangeably, as those who desire riches as a means of getting power; or who desire power in order to get money or renown.¶ And1784þer ben folk þat enterchaungen þe causesandþe endesof þise forseide goodes as þei þat desirenrycchesse tohan poweranddelices. Or ellis þei desiren power fortohan moneye or for cause of renoun.In all they do they have a particular end in view.¶ In þise þinges1788andinswyche oþer þinges is tourned al þe entenciounof desiryngesand[of] werkes of men. ¶ As þus.
FRIENDSHIP A SACRED THING.
Nobility and popular favour are sought after by some in order to become famous.¶ Noblesseandfauourof poeple whiche þat Èiueþ as itsemeþ a manere clernesse of renoun.By others, wives and children are only desired as sources of pleasure.¶ and wijfand1792children þat men desiren for cause of delitandmirinesse.Friendship must not be reckoned among the goods of fortune, but among those of virtue, for it is a very sacred thing.¶ But forsoþe frendes ne shollen nat benrekkenedamong þe goodes of fortune but of vertue. for itis a ful holy manere þing.All else are desired either for the power or pleasure they afford.alle þise oþer þinges forsoþe1796ben taken for cause of power. or ellis for cause ofdelit.The goods of the body fall under the same predicament.¶ Certis now am I redy to referen þe goodes ofþe body to þise forseide þinges abouen.Strength and a good stature seem to give power and worthiness.¶ For it semeþþat strengþeandgretnesse of body Èeuen powerand1800worþinesse.Beauty and swiftness give glory and fame; and health gives delight.¶ and þat beauteandswiftenesse Èeuennoblesseandglorie of renoun.andhele of body semeþÈiuen delit.In all these happiness alone is sought.¶ In alle þise þingusit semeþ oonly þatblisfulnesse is desired.What a man most wishes for, that he esteems the supreme good, which, as we have defined, is happiness.¶ For-whi þilke þing þat euery1804man desireþ moost ouer alle þinges. he demiþ þat be þesouereyne goode. ¶ But I haue diffined þat blisfulnesseis þe souereyne goode. for whiche euery wyÈtdemiþ þat þilke estat þat he desireþ ouer alle þinges þat1808it be þe blisfulnesse.Thou hast now before thee a view of human felicity (falsely so called), that is, riches, honours, power, glory, and delight, which lastEpicurusconsidered as the sovereign good.¶ Now hast þou þan byforne[thy eyen] almost al þe purposed forme of þe welfulnesseof mankynde. þat is to seyne rycchesse. honours.power. glorie.anddelitÈ. þe whiche delit oonly considered1812Epicurus Iugedandestablissed. þat delit is þesouereyne goode. for as myche as alle oþer þinges ashym þouÈt[e] by-refte awey ioieandmyrþe fromþeherte.I now return to the inclinations and pursuits of mankind.¶ But I retourne aÈeyne to þe studies of meen.1816of whiche men þe corage alwey rehersiþandseekeþ þesouereyne goode of alle be it so þat it be wiþ a derkememorie [but he not by whiche paath].Their minds are bent upon the chief good, and are ever seeking it with a darkened understanding, like a drunken man, who cannot find his way home.¶ RyÈt as adronke mannot nat by whiche paþe he may retourne1820home to hys house.Do they go astray who strive to keep themselves from want?¶ Semeþ it þanne þat folk folyenanderren þat enforcen hemto haue nede of no þing
ALL SEEK THE CHIEF GOOD.
By no means. No state is happier than that in which a man is above want, and independent of others.¶ Certys þer nys non oþer þing þat may so weel perfourny[* fol. 16.]blisfulnesse as an estat plenteuous*of alle1824goodes þat ne haþ nede of none oþer þing. but þat it issuffisant of hymself. vnto hym self.Are they guilty of folly that seek esteem and reverence?and foleyenswyche folk þanne. þat wenen þat þilk þing þat isryÈt goode. þat it be eke ryÈt worþi of honourandof1828reuerence.No; for that is not contemptible for which all men strive.¶ Certis nay. for þat þing nys neyþer foulene worþi to ben dispised þat al þe entenciounof mortelfolke trauaille forto geten it.Is not power to be reckoned amongst desirable goods?¶ And power auÈt[e]nat þat eke to be rekened amonges goodesWhy not? For that is not an insignificant good which invests a man with authority and command.what ellis.1832for it nys nat to wene þat þilke þing þat is mostworþi of alle þinges be febleandwiþ out strengþeandclernesse of renounauÈte þat to ben dispised.Fame also is to be regarded, for everything excellent is also shining and renowned.¶ Certysþer may no man forsake þat al þing þat is ryÈt excellent1836andnoble. þat it ne semeþ to be ryÈt clereandrenomed.We hardly need say that happiness is not an unjoyous and melancholy state, for in the pursuit of the smallest matters men seek only pleasure.¶ For certis it nediþ nat to seie. þat blisfulnessebe anguissous ne dreri ne subgit to greuances neto sorwes. syn þat in ryÈt litel þingusfolk seken to1840haueandto vsen þat may deliten hem.Hence it is that mankind seek riches, &c., because by them they hope to get independence, honour, &c.¶ Certys þiseben þe þinges þat men wolenanddesyren to geten.and for þis cause desiren þei rycches. dignites. regnes.glorieanddelices ¶ For þerby wenen þei to han suffisaunce1844honourpower. renounandgladnesse.However varied their desires,happinessis their sole pursuit.¶ þanneis it goode. þat men seken þus by so many dyuersestudies. In whiche desijr it may lyÈtly be shewed.how grete is þe strengþe of nature.However various men’s opinions are respecting happiness, all agree in pursuing it as the end of their actions and desires.¶ For how so þat1848men han dyuerse sentencesanddiscordyng algates menaccordyn alle in lyuynge þe ende of goode.