[Love rules the World.]P. i. 41i.Naturatus amor nature legibus orbemSubdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras:Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur,Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope.Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecasPlebis ad insidias vertit vterque rotas.Est amor egra salus, vexata quies, pius error,Bellica pax, vulnus dulce, suaue malum.I may noght strecche up to the hevene213Min hand, ne setten al in eveneThis world, which evere is in balance:It stant noght in my sufficanceSo grete thinges to compasse,Bot I mot lete it overpasseAnd treten upon othre thinges.Forthi the Stile of my writinges214Postquam in Prologo tractatum hactenus existit, qualiter hodierne condicionis diuisio caritatis dileccionem superauit, intendit216auctor ad presens suum libellum, cuius nomen Confessio Amantis nuncupatur, componere de illo amore, a quo non solum humanum genus, sed eciam cuncta animancia naturaliter subiciuntur. Et quia non nulli amantes ultra quam expedit desiderii passionibus crebro217stimulantur, materia libri per totum super hiis specialius diffunditur.218Fro this day forth I thenke changeAnd speke of thing is noght so strange,21510P. i. 42Which every kinde hath upon honde,And wherupon the world mot stonde,And hath don sithen it began,And schal whil ther is any man;And that is love, of which I meneTo trete, as after schal be sene.In which ther can noman him reule,For loves lawe is out of reule,That of tomoche or of toliteWelnyh is every man to wyte,20And natheles ther is nomanIn al this world so wys, that canOf love tempre the mesure,Bot as it falth in aventure:For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,And he which elles wolde him yelpeIs rathest throwen under fote,Ther can no wiht therof do bote.For yet was nevere such covine,That couthe ordeine a medicine30To thing which god in lawe of kindeHath set, for ther may noman findeThe rihte salve of such a Sor.It hath and schal ben everemorThat love is maister wher he wile,Ther can no lif make other skile;For wher as evere him lest to sette,219Ther is no myht which him may lette.Bot what schal fallen ate laste,The sothe can no wisdom caste,40P. i. 43Bot as it falleth upon chance;For if ther evere was balanceWhich of fortune stant governed,I may wel lieve as I am lernedThat love hath that balance on honde,Which wol no reson understonde.For love is blind and may noght se,Forthi may no certeineteBe set upon his jugement,Bot as the whiel aboute went22050He yifth his graces undeserved,221And fro that man which hath him servedFulofte he takth aweye his fees,As he that pleieth ate Dees,222And therupon what schal befalleHe not, til that the chance falle,Wher he schal lese or he schal winne.[Example of the Author.]Hic quasi in persona aliorum, quos amor alligat, fingens se auctor esse Amantem, varias eorum passiones variis huius libri distinccionibus per singula scribere proponit.And thus fulofte men beginne,That if thei wisten what it mente,Thei wolde change al here entente.60And forto proven it is so,I am miselven on of tho,Which to this Scole am underfonge.For it is siththe go noght longe,As forto speke of this matiere,I may you telle, if ye woll hiere,A wonder hap which me befell,That was to me bothe hard and fell,Touchende of love and his fortune,The which me liketh to comune70P. i. 44And pleinly forto telle it oute.To hem that ben lovers abouteFro point to point I wol declareAnd wryten of my woful care,Mi wofull day, my wofull chance,That men mowe take remembrance223Of that thei schall hierafter rede:For in good feith this wolde I rede,That every man ensample takeOf wisdom which him is betake,22480And that he wot of good apriseTo teche it forth, for such empriseIs forto preise; and therfore IWoll wryte and schewe al openlyHow love and I togedre mette,Wherof the world ensample fetteMai after this, whan I am go,Of thilke unsely jolif wo,Whos reule stant out of the weie,Nou glad and nou gladnesse aweie,90And yet it may noght be withstondeFor oght that men may understonde.[His woful case.]ii.Non ego Sampsonis vires, non Herculis armaVinco, sum sed vt hii victus amore pari.Vt discant alii, docet experiencia facti,Rebus in ambiguis que sit habenda via.Deuius ordo ducis temptata pericla sequentem225Instruit a tergo, ne simul ille cadat.Me quibus ergo Venus, casus, laqueauit amantem,226Orbis in exemplum scribere tendo palam.Upon the point that is befalleOf love, in which that I am falle,P. i. 45I thenke telle my matiere:Now herkne, who that wol it hiere,Of my fortune how that it ferde.Hic declarat materiam, dicens qualiter Cupido quodam ignito iaculo sui cordis memoriam graui vlcere perforauit, quod Venus percipiens ipsum, vt dicit, quasi in mortis articulo spasmatum, ad confitendum se Genio sacerdoti super amoris causa sic semiuiuum specialiter commendauit.This enderday, as I forthferdeTo walke, as I yow telle may,—And that was in the Monthe of Maii,100Whan every brid hath chose his makeAnd thenkth his merthes forto make227Of love that he hath achieved;Bot so was I nothing relieved,For I was further fro my loveThan Erthe is fro the hevene above,As forto speke of eny sped:228So wiste I me non other red,Bot as it were a man forfare229Unto the wode I gan to fare,230110Noght forto singe with the briddes,For whanne I was the wode amiddes,I fond a swote grene pleine,And ther I gan my wo compleigneWisshinge and wepinge al myn one,For other merthes made I none.231So hard me was that ilke throwe,That ofte sithes overthroweTo grounde I was withoute breth;And evere I wisshide after deth,232120Whanne I out of my peine awok,[His complaint to Cupid and Venus.]And caste up many a pitous lokUnto the hevene, and seide thus:‘O thou Cupide, O thou Venus,P. i. 46Thou god of love and thou goddesse,Wher is pite? wher is meknesse?Now doth me pleinly live or dye,For certes such a maladieAs I now have and longe have hadd,It myhte make a wisman madd,233130If that it scholde longe endure.O Venus, queene of loves cure,Thou lif, thou lust, thou mannes hele,Behold my cause and my querele,And yif me som part of thi grace,So that I may finde in this placeIf thou be gracious or non.’And with that word I sawh anonThe kyng of love and qweene bothe;Bot he that kyng with yhen wrothe140His chiere aweiward fro me caste,And forth he passede ate laste.[The Fiery Dart.]Bot natheles er he forth wenteA firy Dart me thoghte he henteAnd threw it thurgh myn herte rote:In him fond I non other bote,For lenger list him noght to duelle.[Venus Queen of Love.]Bot sche that is the Source and WelleOf wel or wo, that schal betideTo hem that loven, at that tide150Abod, bot forto tellen hiereSche cast on me no goodly chiere:Thus natheles to me sche seide,‘What art thou, Sone?’ and I abreideP. i. 47Riht as a man doth out of slep,And therof tok sche riht good kepAnd bad me nothing ben adrad:Bot for al that I was noght glad,For I ne sawh no cause why.And eft scheo asketh, what was I:234160I seide, ‘A Caitif that lith hiere:235What wolde ye, my Ladi diere?236Schal I ben hol or elles dye?’237Sche seide, ‘Tell thi maladie:238What is thi Sor of which thou pleignest?239Ne hyd it noght, for if thou feignest,I can do the no medicine.’‘Ma dame, I am a man of thyne,That in thi Court have longe served,And aske that I have deserved,170Som wele after my longe wo.’And sche began to loure tho,And seide, ‘Ther is manye of yowFaitours, and so may be that thowArt riht such on, and be feintiseSeist that thou hast me do servise.’And natheles sche wiste wel,Mi world stod on an other whielWithouten eny faiterie:Bot algate of my maladie180Sche bad me telle and seie hir trowthe.‘Ma dame, if ye wolde have rowthe,’Quod I, ‘than wolde I telle yow.’240‘Sey forth,’ quod sche, ‘and tell me how;P. i. 48Schew me thi seknesse everydiel.’‘Ma dame, that can I do wel,Be so my lif therto wol laste.’With that hir lok on me sche caste,And seide: ‘In aunter if thou live,Mi will is ferst that thou be schrive;190And natheles how that it isI wot miself, bot for al this[Genius, the Priest of Love.]Unto my prest, which comth anon,I woll thou telle it on and on,Bothe all thi thoght and al thi werk.O Genius myn oghne Clerk,Com forth and hier this mannes schrifte,’Quod Venus tho; and I uplifteMin hefd with that, and gan beholdeThe selve Prest, which as sche wolde241200Was redy there and sette him dounTo hiere my confessioun.iii.Confessus Genio si sit medicina salutisExperiar morbis, quos tulit ipsa Venus.Lesa quidem ferro medicantur membra saluti,Raro tamen medicum vulnus amoris habet.[The Lover’s Shrift.]This worthi Prest, this holy manTo me spekende thus began,And seide: ‘Benedicite,Mi Sone, of the feliciteOf love and ek of all the woThou schalt thee schrive of bothe tuo.242Hic dicit qualiter Genio pro Confessore sedenti prouolutus Amans ad confitendum se flexis genibus incuruatur, supplicans tamen, vt ad sui sensus informacionem confessor ille in dicendis opponere sibi benignius dignaretur.What thou er this for loves sakeHast felt, let nothing be forsake,210P. i. 49Tell pleinliche as it is befalle.’And with that word I gan doun falleOn knees, and with devocioun243And with full gret contriciounI seide thanne: ‘Dominus,Min holi fader Genius,So as thou hast experienceOf love, for whos reverenceThou schalt me schriven at this time,I prai the let me noght mistime220Mi schrifte, for I am destourbedIn al myn herte, and so contourbed,That I ne may my wittes gete,So schal I moche thing foryete:244Bot if thou wolt my schrifte opposeFro point to point, thanne I suppose,Ther schal nothing be left behinde.245Bot now my wittes ben so blinde,That I ne can miselven teche.’Tho he began anon to preche,230And with his wordes debonaireHe seide tome softe and faire:246‘Thi schrifte to oppose and hiere,Sermo Genii sacerdotis247super confessione ad Amantem.My Sone, I am assigned hiereBe Venus the godesse above,Whos Prest I am touchende of love.Bot natheles for certein skileI mot algate and nedes wileNoght only make my spekyngesOf love, bot of othre thinges,240P. i. 50That touchen to the cause of vice.For that belongeth to thofficeOf Prest, whos ordre that I bere,So that I wol nothing forbere,That I the vices on and onNe schal thee schewen everychon;Wherof thou myht take evidenceTo reule with thi conscience.Bot of conclusion finalConclude I wol in special250For love, whos servant I am,And why the cause is that I cam.So thenke I to don bothe tuo,Ferst that myn ordre longeth to,The vices forto telle arewe,Bot next above alle othre scheweOf love I wol the propretes,How that thei stonde be degreesAfter the disposiciounOf Venus, whos condicioun260I moste folwe, as I am holde.For I with love am al withholde,So that the lasse I am to wyte,Thogh I ne conne bot a lyte248Of othre thinges that ben wise:I am noght tawht in such a wise;249For it is noght my comun usTo speke of vices and vertus,Bot al of love and of his lore,For Venus bokes of nomore270P. i. 51Me techen nowther text ne glose.Bot for als moche as I supposeIt sit a prest to be wel thewed,And schame it is if he be lewed,Of my Presthode after the formeI wol thi schrifte so enforme,That ate leste thou schalt hiere250The vices, and to thi matiere251Of love I schal hem so remene,That thou schalt knowe what thei mene.280For what a man schal axe or sein252Touchende of schrifte, it mot be plein,It nedeth noght to make it queinte,For trowthe hise wordes wol noght peinte:That I wole axe of the forthi,My Sone, it schal be so pleinly,That thou schalt knowe and understondeThe pointz of schrifte how that thei stonde.’253[The Five Senses.]iv.Visus et auditus fragilis sunt ostia mentis,Que viciosa manus claudere nulla potest.Est ibi larga via, graditur qua cordis ad antrumHostis, et ingrediens fossa talenta rapit.Hec michi confessor Genius primordia profert,Dum sit in extremis vita remorsa malis.Nunc tamen vt poterit semiviua loquela fateri,Verba per os timide conscia mentis agam.Betwen the lif and deth I herdeThis Prestes tale er I answerde,290And thanne I preide him forto seieHis will, and I it wolde obeieAfter the forme of his apprise.254Hic incipit confessio Amantis, cui de duobus precipue quinque sensuum, hoc est de visu et auditu, confessor pre ceteris opponit.Tho spak he tome in such a wise,255P. i. 52And bad me that I scholde schrive256As touchende of my wittes fyve,And schape that thei were amendedOf that I hadde hem misdispended.257For tho be proprely the gates,Thurgh whiche as to the herte algates300Comth alle thing unto the feire,Which may the mannes Soule empeire.And now this matiere is broght inne,Mi Sone, I thenke ferst beginneTo wite how that thin yhe hath stonde,[Seeing.]The which is, as I understonde,The moste principal of alle,Thurgh whom that peril mai befalle.And forto speke in loves kinde,Ful manye suche a man mai finde,258310Whiche evere caste aboute here yhe,To loke if that thei myhte aspieFulofte thing which hem ne toucheth,Bot only that here herte souchethIn hindringe of an other wiht;And thus ful many a worthi knyhtAnd many a lusti lady botheHave be fulofte sythe wrothe.259So that an yhe is as a thiefTo love, and doth ful gret meschief;320And also for his oghne partFulofte thilke firy DartOf love, which that evere brenneth,Thurgh him into the herte renneth:P. i. 53And thus a mannes yhe ferstHimselve grieveth alther werst,And many a time that he knowethUnto his oghne harm it groweth.Mi Sone, herkne now forthiA tale, to be war therby330Thin yhe forto kepe and warde,So that it passe noght his warde.[Tale of Acteon.]Hic narrat Confessor exemplum260de visu ab illicitis preseruando, dicens qualiter Acteon Cadmi Regis Thebarum nepos, dum in quadam Foresta venacionis causa spaciaretur,262maccidit vt ipse quendam fontem nemorosa arborum pulcritudine circumuentum superueniens, vidit ibi Dianam cum suis Nimphis nudam in flumine balneantem; quam diligencius intuens oculos suos a muliebri nuditate nullatenus auertere volebat. Vnde indignata Diana ipsum in cerui figuram transformauit; quem canes proprii apprehendentes mortiferis dentibus penitus dilaniarunt.Ovide telleth in his bokEnsample touchende of mislok,And seith hou whilom ther was on,261A worthi lord, which ActeonWas hote, and he was cousin nyhTo him that Thebes ferst on hyhUp sette, which king Cadme hyhte.262This Acteon, as he wel myhte,340Above alle othre caste his chiere,And used it fro yer to yere,With Houndes and with grete HornesAmong the wodes and the thornesTo make his hunting and his chace:Where him best thoghte in every placeTo finde gamen in his weie,Ther rod he forto hunte and pleie.So him befell upon a tide263On his hunting as he cam ride,350In a Forest al one he was:He syh upon the grene grasThe faire freisshe floures springe,264He herde among the leves singeP. i. 54The Throstle with the nyhtingale:265Thus er he wiste into a DaleHe cam, wher was a litel plein,266All round aboute wel beseinWith buisshes grene and Cedres hyhe;And ther withinne he caste his yhe.360Amidd the plein he syh a welle,So fair ther myhte noman telle,In which Diana naked stodTo bathe and pleie hire in the flodWith many a Nimphe, which hire serveth.267Bot he his yhe awey ne swervethFro hire, which was naked al,And sche was wonder wroth withal,268And him, as sche which was godesse,Forschop anon, and the liknesse269370Sche made him taken of an Hert,270Which was tofore hise houndes stert,That ronne besiliche abouteWith many an horn and many a route,271That maden mochel noise and cry:And ate laste unhappelyThis Hert his oghne houndes slowhe272And him for vengance al todrowhe.Confessor.Lo now, my Sone, what it isA man to caste his yhe amis,380Which Acteon hath dere aboght;Be war forthi and do it noght.For ofte, who that hiede toke,Betre is to winke than to loke.P. i. 55And forto proven it is so,Ovide the Poete alsoA tale which to this matiereAcordeth seith, as thou schalt hiere.273[Tale of Medusa.]Hic ponit aliud exemplum de eodem, vbi dicit quod quidam princeps nomine Phorceus tres progenuit filias, Gorgones a vulgo nuncupatas, que uno partu exorte deformitatem Monstrorum serpentinam obtinuerunt; quibus, cum in etatem peruenerant, talis destinata fuerat natura, quod quicumque in eas aspiceret in lapidem subito mutabatur. Et sic quam plures incaute respicientes visis illis perierunt. Set Perseus miles clipeo Palladis gladioque Mercurii munitus eas extra montem Athlantis cohabitantes animo audaci absque sui periculo interfecit.In Metamor it telleth thus,How that a lord which Phorceüs390Was hote, hadde dowhtres thre.274Bot upon here nativiteSuch was the constellacion,That out of mannes nacionFro kynde thei be so miswent,That to the liknesse of SerpentThei were bore, and so that on275Of hem was cleped Stellibon,That other soster Suriale,The thridde, as telleth in the tale,400Medusa hihte, and nathelesOf comun name GorgonesIn every contre ther aboute,As Monstres whiche that men doute,Men clepen hem; and bot on yheAmong hem thre in pourpartieThei hadde, of which thei myhte se,Now hath it this, now hath it sche;After that cause and nede it ladde,Be throwes ech of hem it hadde.410A wonder thing yet more amisTher was, wherof I telle al this:What man on hem his chiere casteAnd hem behield, he was als fasteP. i. 56Out of a man into a StonForschape, and thus ful manyonDeceived were, of that thei woldeMisloke, wher that thei ne scholde.Bot Perseüs that worthi knyht,Whom Pallas of hir grete myht420Halp, and tok him a Schield therto,And ek the god Mercurie alsoLente him a swerd, he, as it fell,276Beyende Athlans the hihe hellThese Monstres soghte, and there he fond277Diverse men of thilke londThurgh sihte of hem mistorned were,Stondende as Stones hiere and there.Bot he, which wisdom and prouesseHadde of the god and the godesse,278430The Schield of Pallas gan enbrace,With which he covereth sauf his face,Mercuries Swerd and out he drowh,And so he bar him that he slowhThese dredful Monstres alle thre.Confessor.Lo now, my Sone, avise the,That thou thi sihte noght misuse:Cast noght thin yhe upon Meduse,That thou be torned into Ston:For so wys man was nevere non,440Bot if he wel his yhe kepe279And take of fol delit no kepe,That he with lust nys ofte nome,Thurgh strengthe of love and overcome.P. i. 57Of mislokynge how it hath ferd,As I have told, now hast thou herd,My goode Sone, and tak good hiede.280[Hearing.]And overthis yet I thee redeThat thou be war of thin heringe,Which to the Herte the tidinge450Of many a vanite hath broght,To tarie with a mannes thoght.And natheles good is to hiereSuch thing wherof a man may lere281That to vertu is acordant,And toward al the remenantGood is to torne his Ere fro;For elles, bot a man do so,Him may fulofte mysbefalle.I rede ensample amonges alle,460Wherof to kepe wel an EreIt oghte pute a man in fere.
[Love rules the World.]P. i. 41i.Naturatus amor nature legibus orbemSubdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras:Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur,Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope.Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecasPlebis ad insidias vertit vterque rotas.Est amor egra salus, vexata quies, pius error,Bellica pax, vulnus dulce, suaue malum.I may noght strecche up to the hevene213Min hand, ne setten al in eveneThis world, which evere is in balance:It stant noght in my sufficanceSo grete thinges to compasse,Bot I mot lete it overpasseAnd treten upon othre thinges.Forthi the Stile of my writinges214Postquam in Prologo tractatum hactenus existit, qualiter hodierne condicionis diuisio caritatis dileccionem superauit, intendit216auctor ad presens suum libellum, cuius nomen Confessio Amantis nuncupatur, componere de illo amore, a quo non solum humanum genus, sed eciam cuncta animancia naturaliter subiciuntur. Et quia non nulli amantes ultra quam expedit desiderii passionibus crebro217stimulantur, materia libri per totum super hiis specialius diffunditur.218Fro this day forth I thenke changeAnd speke of thing is noght so strange,21510P. i. 42Which every kinde hath upon honde,And wherupon the world mot stonde,And hath don sithen it began,And schal whil ther is any man;And that is love, of which I meneTo trete, as after schal be sene.In which ther can noman him reule,For loves lawe is out of reule,That of tomoche or of toliteWelnyh is every man to wyte,20And natheles ther is nomanIn al this world so wys, that canOf love tempre the mesure,Bot as it falth in aventure:For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,And he which elles wolde him yelpeIs rathest throwen under fote,Ther can no wiht therof do bote.For yet was nevere such covine,That couthe ordeine a medicine30To thing which god in lawe of kindeHath set, for ther may noman findeThe rihte salve of such a Sor.It hath and schal ben everemorThat love is maister wher he wile,Ther can no lif make other skile;For wher as evere him lest to sette,219Ther is no myht which him may lette.Bot what schal fallen ate laste,The sothe can no wisdom caste,40P. i. 43Bot as it falleth upon chance;For if ther evere was balanceWhich of fortune stant governed,I may wel lieve as I am lernedThat love hath that balance on honde,Which wol no reson understonde.For love is blind and may noght se,Forthi may no certeineteBe set upon his jugement,Bot as the whiel aboute went22050He yifth his graces undeserved,221And fro that man which hath him servedFulofte he takth aweye his fees,As he that pleieth ate Dees,222And therupon what schal befalleHe not, til that the chance falle,Wher he schal lese or he schal winne.[Example of the Author.]Hic quasi in persona aliorum, quos amor alligat, fingens se auctor esse Amantem, varias eorum passiones variis huius libri distinccionibus per singula scribere proponit.And thus fulofte men beginne,That if thei wisten what it mente,Thei wolde change al here entente.60And forto proven it is so,I am miselven on of tho,Which to this Scole am underfonge.For it is siththe go noght longe,As forto speke of this matiere,I may you telle, if ye woll hiere,A wonder hap which me befell,That was to me bothe hard and fell,Touchende of love and his fortune,The which me liketh to comune70P. i. 44And pleinly forto telle it oute.To hem that ben lovers abouteFro point to point I wol declareAnd wryten of my woful care,Mi wofull day, my wofull chance,That men mowe take remembrance223Of that thei schall hierafter rede:For in good feith this wolde I rede,That every man ensample takeOf wisdom which him is betake,22480And that he wot of good apriseTo teche it forth, for such empriseIs forto preise; and therfore IWoll wryte and schewe al openlyHow love and I togedre mette,Wherof the world ensample fetteMai after this, whan I am go,Of thilke unsely jolif wo,Whos reule stant out of the weie,Nou glad and nou gladnesse aweie,90And yet it may noght be withstondeFor oght that men may understonde.[His woful case.]ii.Non ego Sampsonis vires, non Herculis armaVinco, sum sed vt hii victus amore pari.Vt discant alii, docet experiencia facti,Rebus in ambiguis que sit habenda via.Deuius ordo ducis temptata pericla sequentem225Instruit a tergo, ne simul ille cadat.Me quibus ergo Venus, casus, laqueauit amantem,226Orbis in exemplum scribere tendo palam.Upon the point that is befalleOf love, in which that I am falle,P. i. 45I thenke telle my matiere:Now herkne, who that wol it hiere,Of my fortune how that it ferde.Hic declarat materiam, dicens qualiter Cupido quodam ignito iaculo sui cordis memoriam graui vlcere perforauit, quod Venus percipiens ipsum, vt dicit, quasi in mortis articulo spasmatum, ad confitendum se Genio sacerdoti super amoris causa sic semiuiuum specialiter commendauit.This enderday, as I forthferdeTo walke, as I yow telle may,—And that was in the Monthe of Maii,100Whan every brid hath chose his makeAnd thenkth his merthes forto make227Of love that he hath achieved;Bot so was I nothing relieved,For I was further fro my loveThan Erthe is fro the hevene above,As forto speke of eny sped:228So wiste I me non other red,Bot as it were a man forfare229Unto the wode I gan to fare,230110Noght forto singe with the briddes,For whanne I was the wode amiddes,I fond a swote grene pleine,And ther I gan my wo compleigneWisshinge and wepinge al myn one,For other merthes made I none.231So hard me was that ilke throwe,That ofte sithes overthroweTo grounde I was withoute breth;And evere I wisshide after deth,232120Whanne I out of my peine awok,[His complaint to Cupid and Venus.]And caste up many a pitous lokUnto the hevene, and seide thus:‘O thou Cupide, O thou Venus,P. i. 46Thou god of love and thou goddesse,Wher is pite? wher is meknesse?Now doth me pleinly live or dye,For certes such a maladieAs I now have and longe have hadd,It myhte make a wisman madd,233130If that it scholde longe endure.O Venus, queene of loves cure,Thou lif, thou lust, thou mannes hele,Behold my cause and my querele,And yif me som part of thi grace,So that I may finde in this placeIf thou be gracious or non.’And with that word I sawh anonThe kyng of love and qweene bothe;Bot he that kyng with yhen wrothe140His chiere aweiward fro me caste,And forth he passede ate laste.[The Fiery Dart.]Bot natheles er he forth wenteA firy Dart me thoghte he henteAnd threw it thurgh myn herte rote:In him fond I non other bote,For lenger list him noght to duelle.[Venus Queen of Love.]Bot sche that is the Source and WelleOf wel or wo, that schal betideTo hem that loven, at that tide150Abod, bot forto tellen hiereSche cast on me no goodly chiere:Thus natheles to me sche seide,‘What art thou, Sone?’ and I abreideP. i. 47Riht as a man doth out of slep,And therof tok sche riht good kepAnd bad me nothing ben adrad:Bot for al that I was noght glad,For I ne sawh no cause why.And eft scheo asketh, what was I:234160I seide, ‘A Caitif that lith hiere:235What wolde ye, my Ladi diere?236Schal I ben hol or elles dye?’237Sche seide, ‘Tell thi maladie:238What is thi Sor of which thou pleignest?239Ne hyd it noght, for if thou feignest,I can do the no medicine.’‘Ma dame, I am a man of thyne,That in thi Court have longe served,And aske that I have deserved,170Som wele after my longe wo.’And sche began to loure tho,And seide, ‘Ther is manye of yowFaitours, and so may be that thowArt riht such on, and be feintiseSeist that thou hast me do servise.’And natheles sche wiste wel,Mi world stod on an other whielWithouten eny faiterie:Bot algate of my maladie180Sche bad me telle and seie hir trowthe.‘Ma dame, if ye wolde have rowthe,’Quod I, ‘than wolde I telle yow.’240‘Sey forth,’ quod sche, ‘and tell me how;P. i. 48Schew me thi seknesse everydiel.’‘Ma dame, that can I do wel,Be so my lif therto wol laste.’With that hir lok on me sche caste,And seide: ‘In aunter if thou live,Mi will is ferst that thou be schrive;190And natheles how that it isI wot miself, bot for al this[Genius, the Priest of Love.]Unto my prest, which comth anon,I woll thou telle it on and on,Bothe all thi thoght and al thi werk.O Genius myn oghne Clerk,Com forth and hier this mannes schrifte,’Quod Venus tho; and I uplifteMin hefd with that, and gan beholdeThe selve Prest, which as sche wolde241200Was redy there and sette him dounTo hiere my confessioun.iii.Confessus Genio si sit medicina salutisExperiar morbis, quos tulit ipsa Venus.Lesa quidem ferro medicantur membra saluti,Raro tamen medicum vulnus amoris habet.[The Lover’s Shrift.]This worthi Prest, this holy manTo me spekende thus began,And seide: ‘Benedicite,Mi Sone, of the feliciteOf love and ek of all the woThou schalt thee schrive of bothe tuo.242Hic dicit qualiter Genio pro Confessore sedenti prouolutus Amans ad confitendum se flexis genibus incuruatur, supplicans tamen, vt ad sui sensus informacionem confessor ille in dicendis opponere sibi benignius dignaretur.What thou er this for loves sakeHast felt, let nothing be forsake,210P. i. 49Tell pleinliche as it is befalle.’And with that word I gan doun falleOn knees, and with devocioun243And with full gret contriciounI seide thanne: ‘Dominus,Min holi fader Genius,So as thou hast experienceOf love, for whos reverenceThou schalt me schriven at this time,I prai the let me noght mistime220Mi schrifte, for I am destourbedIn al myn herte, and so contourbed,That I ne may my wittes gete,So schal I moche thing foryete:244Bot if thou wolt my schrifte opposeFro point to point, thanne I suppose,Ther schal nothing be left behinde.245Bot now my wittes ben so blinde,That I ne can miselven teche.’Tho he began anon to preche,230And with his wordes debonaireHe seide tome softe and faire:246‘Thi schrifte to oppose and hiere,Sermo Genii sacerdotis247super confessione ad Amantem.My Sone, I am assigned hiereBe Venus the godesse above,Whos Prest I am touchende of love.Bot natheles for certein skileI mot algate and nedes wileNoght only make my spekyngesOf love, bot of othre thinges,240P. i. 50That touchen to the cause of vice.For that belongeth to thofficeOf Prest, whos ordre that I bere,So that I wol nothing forbere,That I the vices on and onNe schal thee schewen everychon;Wherof thou myht take evidenceTo reule with thi conscience.Bot of conclusion finalConclude I wol in special250For love, whos servant I am,And why the cause is that I cam.So thenke I to don bothe tuo,Ferst that myn ordre longeth to,The vices forto telle arewe,Bot next above alle othre scheweOf love I wol the propretes,How that thei stonde be degreesAfter the disposiciounOf Venus, whos condicioun260I moste folwe, as I am holde.For I with love am al withholde,So that the lasse I am to wyte,Thogh I ne conne bot a lyte248Of othre thinges that ben wise:I am noght tawht in such a wise;249For it is noght my comun usTo speke of vices and vertus,Bot al of love and of his lore,For Venus bokes of nomore270P. i. 51Me techen nowther text ne glose.Bot for als moche as I supposeIt sit a prest to be wel thewed,And schame it is if he be lewed,Of my Presthode after the formeI wol thi schrifte so enforme,That ate leste thou schalt hiere250The vices, and to thi matiere251Of love I schal hem so remene,That thou schalt knowe what thei mene.280For what a man schal axe or sein252Touchende of schrifte, it mot be plein,It nedeth noght to make it queinte,For trowthe hise wordes wol noght peinte:That I wole axe of the forthi,My Sone, it schal be so pleinly,That thou schalt knowe and understondeThe pointz of schrifte how that thei stonde.’253[The Five Senses.]iv.Visus et auditus fragilis sunt ostia mentis,Que viciosa manus claudere nulla potest.Est ibi larga via, graditur qua cordis ad antrumHostis, et ingrediens fossa talenta rapit.Hec michi confessor Genius primordia profert,Dum sit in extremis vita remorsa malis.Nunc tamen vt poterit semiviua loquela fateri,Verba per os timide conscia mentis agam.Betwen the lif and deth I herdeThis Prestes tale er I answerde,290And thanne I preide him forto seieHis will, and I it wolde obeieAfter the forme of his apprise.254Hic incipit confessio Amantis, cui de duobus precipue quinque sensuum, hoc est de visu et auditu, confessor pre ceteris opponit.Tho spak he tome in such a wise,255P. i. 52And bad me that I scholde schrive256As touchende of my wittes fyve,And schape that thei were amendedOf that I hadde hem misdispended.257For tho be proprely the gates,Thurgh whiche as to the herte algates300Comth alle thing unto the feire,Which may the mannes Soule empeire.And now this matiere is broght inne,Mi Sone, I thenke ferst beginneTo wite how that thin yhe hath stonde,[Seeing.]The which is, as I understonde,The moste principal of alle,Thurgh whom that peril mai befalle.And forto speke in loves kinde,Ful manye suche a man mai finde,258310Whiche evere caste aboute here yhe,To loke if that thei myhte aspieFulofte thing which hem ne toucheth,Bot only that here herte souchethIn hindringe of an other wiht;And thus ful many a worthi knyhtAnd many a lusti lady botheHave be fulofte sythe wrothe.259So that an yhe is as a thiefTo love, and doth ful gret meschief;320And also for his oghne partFulofte thilke firy DartOf love, which that evere brenneth,Thurgh him into the herte renneth:P. i. 53And thus a mannes yhe ferstHimselve grieveth alther werst,And many a time that he knowethUnto his oghne harm it groweth.Mi Sone, herkne now forthiA tale, to be war therby330Thin yhe forto kepe and warde,So that it passe noght his warde.[Tale of Acteon.]Hic narrat Confessor exemplum260de visu ab illicitis preseruando, dicens qualiter Acteon Cadmi Regis Thebarum nepos, dum in quadam Foresta venacionis causa spaciaretur,262maccidit vt ipse quendam fontem nemorosa arborum pulcritudine circumuentum superueniens, vidit ibi Dianam cum suis Nimphis nudam in flumine balneantem; quam diligencius intuens oculos suos a muliebri nuditate nullatenus auertere volebat. Vnde indignata Diana ipsum in cerui figuram transformauit; quem canes proprii apprehendentes mortiferis dentibus penitus dilaniarunt.Ovide telleth in his bokEnsample touchende of mislok,And seith hou whilom ther was on,261A worthi lord, which ActeonWas hote, and he was cousin nyhTo him that Thebes ferst on hyhUp sette, which king Cadme hyhte.262This Acteon, as he wel myhte,340Above alle othre caste his chiere,And used it fro yer to yere,With Houndes and with grete HornesAmong the wodes and the thornesTo make his hunting and his chace:Where him best thoghte in every placeTo finde gamen in his weie,Ther rod he forto hunte and pleie.So him befell upon a tide263On his hunting as he cam ride,350In a Forest al one he was:He syh upon the grene grasThe faire freisshe floures springe,264He herde among the leves singeP. i. 54The Throstle with the nyhtingale:265Thus er he wiste into a DaleHe cam, wher was a litel plein,266All round aboute wel beseinWith buisshes grene and Cedres hyhe;And ther withinne he caste his yhe.360Amidd the plein he syh a welle,So fair ther myhte noman telle,In which Diana naked stodTo bathe and pleie hire in the flodWith many a Nimphe, which hire serveth.267Bot he his yhe awey ne swervethFro hire, which was naked al,And sche was wonder wroth withal,268And him, as sche which was godesse,Forschop anon, and the liknesse269370Sche made him taken of an Hert,270Which was tofore hise houndes stert,That ronne besiliche abouteWith many an horn and many a route,271That maden mochel noise and cry:And ate laste unhappelyThis Hert his oghne houndes slowhe272And him for vengance al todrowhe.Confessor.Lo now, my Sone, what it isA man to caste his yhe amis,380Which Acteon hath dere aboght;Be war forthi and do it noght.For ofte, who that hiede toke,Betre is to winke than to loke.P. i. 55And forto proven it is so,Ovide the Poete alsoA tale which to this matiereAcordeth seith, as thou schalt hiere.273[Tale of Medusa.]Hic ponit aliud exemplum de eodem, vbi dicit quod quidam princeps nomine Phorceus tres progenuit filias, Gorgones a vulgo nuncupatas, que uno partu exorte deformitatem Monstrorum serpentinam obtinuerunt; quibus, cum in etatem peruenerant, talis destinata fuerat natura, quod quicumque in eas aspiceret in lapidem subito mutabatur. Et sic quam plures incaute respicientes visis illis perierunt. Set Perseus miles clipeo Palladis gladioque Mercurii munitus eas extra montem Athlantis cohabitantes animo audaci absque sui periculo interfecit.In Metamor it telleth thus,How that a lord which Phorceüs390Was hote, hadde dowhtres thre.274Bot upon here nativiteSuch was the constellacion,That out of mannes nacionFro kynde thei be so miswent,That to the liknesse of SerpentThei were bore, and so that on275Of hem was cleped Stellibon,That other soster Suriale,The thridde, as telleth in the tale,400Medusa hihte, and nathelesOf comun name GorgonesIn every contre ther aboute,As Monstres whiche that men doute,Men clepen hem; and bot on yheAmong hem thre in pourpartieThei hadde, of which thei myhte se,Now hath it this, now hath it sche;After that cause and nede it ladde,Be throwes ech of hem it hadde.410A wonder thing yet more amisTher was, wherof I telle al this:What man on hem his chiere casteAnd hem behield, he was als fasteP. i. 56Out of a man into a StonForschape, and thus ful manyonDeceived were, of that thei woldeMisloke, wher that thei ne scholde.Bot Perseüs that worthi knyht,Whom Pallas of hir grete myht420Halp, and tok him a Schield therto,And ek the god Mercurie alsoLente him a swerd, he, as it fell,276Beyende Athlans the hihe hellThese Monstres soghte, and there he fond277Diverse men of thilke londThurgh sihte of hem mistorned were,Stondende as Stones hiere and there.Bot he, which wisdom and prouesseHadde of the god and the godesse,278430The Schield of Pallas gan enbrace,With which he covereth sauf his face,Mercuries Swerd and out he drowh,And so he bar him that he slowhThese dredful Monstres alle thre.Confessor.Lo now, my Sone, avise the,That thou thi sihte noght misuse:Cast noght thin yhe upon Meduse,That thou be torned into Ston:For so wys man was nevere non,440Bot if he wel his yhe kepe279And take of fol delit no kepe,That he with lust nys ofte nome,Thurgh strengthe of love and overcome.P. i. 57Of mislokynge how it hath ferd,As I have told, now hast thou herd,My goode Sone, and tak good hiede.280[Hearing.]And overthis yet I thee redeThat thou be war of thin heringe,Which to the Herte the tidinge450Of many a vanite hath broght,To tarie with a mannes thoght.And natheles good is to hiereSuch thing wherof a man may lere281That to vertu is acordant,And toward al the remenantGood is to torne his Ere fro;For elles, bot a man do so,Him may fulofte mysbefalle.I rede ensample amonges alle,460Wherof to kepe wel an EreIt oghte pute a man in fere.
[Love rules the World.]P. i. 41i.Naturatus amor nature legibus orbemSubdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras:Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur,Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope.Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecasPlebis ad insidias vertit vterque rotas.Est amor egra salus, vexata quies, pius error,Bellica pax, vulnus dulce, suaue malum.
[Love rules the World.]
P. i. 41
i.Naturatus amor nature legibus orbem
Subdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras:
Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur,
Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope.
Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecas
Plebis ad insidias vertit vterque rotas.
Est amor egra salus, vexata quies, pius error,
Bellica pax, vulnus dulce, suaue malum.
I may noght strecche up to the hevene213Min hand, ne setten al in eveneThis world, which evere is in balance:It stant noght in my sufficanceSo grete thinges to compasse,Bot I mot lete it overpasseAnd treten upon othre thinges.Forthi the Stile of my writinges214Postquam in Prologo tractatum hactenus existit, qualiter hodierne condicionis diuisio caritatis dileccionem superauit, intendit216auctor ad presens suum libellum, cuius nomen Confessio Amantis nuncupatur, componere de illo amore, a quo non solum humanum genus, sed eciam cuncta animancia naturaliter subiciuntur. Et quia non nulli amantes ultra quam expedit desiderii passionibus crebro217stimulantur, materia libri per totum super hiis specialius diffunditur.218Fro this day forth I thenke changeAnd speke of thing is noght so strange,21510P. i. 42Which every kinde hath upon honde,And wherupon the world mot stonde,And hath don sithen it began,And schal whil ther is any man;And that is love, of which I meneTo trete, as after schal be sene.In which ther can noman him reule,For loves lawe is out of reule,That of tomoche or of toliteWelnyh is every man to wyte,20And natheles ther is nomanIn al this world so wys, that canOf love tempre the mesure,Bot as it falth in aventure:For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,And he which elles wolde him yelpeIs rathest throwen under fote,Ther can no wiht therof do bote.For yet was nevere such covine,That couthe ordeine a medicine30To thing which god in lawe of kindeHath set, for ther may noman findeThe rihte salve of such a Sor.It hath and schal ben everemorThat love is maister wher he wile,Ther can no lif make other skile;For wher as evere him lest to sette,219Ther is no myht which him may lette.Bot what schal fallen ate laste,The sothe can no wisdom caste,40P. i. 43Bot as it falleth upon chance;For if ther evere was balanceWhich of fortune stant governed,I may wel lieve as I am lernedThat love hath that balance on honde,Which wol no reson understonde.For love is blind and may noght se,Forthi may no certeineteBe set upon his jugement,Bot as the whiel aboute went22050He yifth his graces undeserved,221And fro that man which hath him servedFulofte he takth aweye his fees,As he that pleieth ate Dees,222And therupon what schal befalleHe not, til that the chance falle,Wher he schal lese or he schal winne.[Example of the Author.]Hic quasi in persona aliorum, quos amor alligat, fingens se auctor esse Amantem, varias eorum passiones variis huius libri distinccionibus per singula scribere proponit.And thus fulofte men beginne,That if thei wisten what it mente,Thei wolde change al here entente.60And forto proven it is so,I am miselven on of tho,Which to this Scole am underfonge.For it is siththe go noght longe,As forto speke of this matiere,I may you telle, if ye woll hiere,A wonder hap which me befell,That was to me bothe hard and fell,Touchende of love and his fortune,The which me liketh to comune70P. i. 44And pleinly forto telle it oute.To hem that ben lovers abouteFro point to point I wol declareAnd wryten of my woful care,Mi wofull day, my wofull chance,That men mowe take remembrance223Of that thei schall hierafter rede:For in good feith this wolde I rede,That every man ensample takeOf wisdom which him is betake,22480And that he wot of good apriseTo teche it forth, for such empriseIs forto preise; and therfore IWoll wryte and schewe al openlyHow love and I togedre mette,Wherof the world ensample fetteMai after this, whan I am go,Of thilke unsely jolif wo,Whos reule stant out of the weie,Nou glad and nou gladnesse aweie,90And yet it may noght be withstondeFor oght that men may understonde.
I may noght strecche up to the hevene213
Min hand, ne setten al in evene
This world, which evere is in balance:
It stant noght in my sufficance
So grete thinges to compasse,
Bot I mot lete it overpasse
And treten upon othre thinges.
Forthi the Stile of my writinges214
Postquam in Prologo tractatum hactenus existit, qualiter hodierne condicionis diuisio caritatis dileccionem superauit, intendit216auctor ad presens suum libellum, cuius nomen Confessio Amantis nuncupatur, componere de illo amore, a quo non solum humanum genus, sed eciam cuncta animancia naturaliter subiciuntur. Et quia non nulli amantes ultra quam expedit desiderii passionibus crebro217stimulantur, materia libri per totum super hiis specialius diffunditur.218
Fro this day forth I thenke change
And speke of thing is noght so strange,21510
P. i. 42
Which every kinde hath upon honde,
And wherupon the world mot stonde,
And hath don sithen it began,
And schal whil ther is any man;
And that is love, of which I mene
To trete, as after schal be sene.
In which ther can noman him reule,
For loves lawe is out of reule,
That of tomoche or of tolite
Welnyh is every man to wyte,20
And natheles ther is noman
In al this world so wys, that can
Of love tempre the mesure,
Bot as it falth in aventure:
For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,
And he which elles wolde him yelpe
Is rathest throwen under fote,
Ther can no wiht therof do bote.
For yet was nevere such covine,
That couthe ordeine a medicine30
To thing which god in lawe of kinde
Hath set, for ther may noman finde
The rihte salve of such a Sor.
It hath and schal ben everemor
That love is maister wher he wile,
Ther can no lif make other skile;
For wher as evere him lest to sette,219
Ther is no myht which him may lette.
Bot what schal fallen ate laste,
The sothe can no wisdom caste,40
P. i. 43
Bot as it falleth upon chance;
For if ther evere was balance
Which of fortune stant governed,
I may wel lieve as I am lerned
That love hath that balance on honde,
Which wol no reson understonde.
For love is blind and may noght se,
Forthi may no certeinete
Be set upon his jugement,
Bot as the whiel aboute went22050
He yifth his graces undeserved,221
And fro that man which hath him served
Fulofte he takth aweye his fees,
As he that pleieth ate Dees,222
And therupon what schal befalle
He not, til that the chance falle,
Wher he schal lese or he schal winne.
[Example of the Author.]
Hic quasi in persona aliorum, quos amor alligat, fingens se auctor esse Amantem, varias eorum passiones variis huius libri distinccionibus per singula scribere proponit.
And thus fulofte men beginne,
That if thei wisten what it mente,
Thei wolde change al here entente.60
And forto proven it is so,
I am miselven on of tho,
Which to this Scole am underfonge.
For it is siththe go noght longe,
As forto speke of this matiere,
I may you telle, if ye woll hiere,
A wonder hap which me befell,
That was to me bothe hard and fell,
Touchende of love and his fortune,
The which me liketh to comune70
P. i. 44
And pleinly forto telle it oute.
To hem that ben lovers aboute
Fro point to point I wol declare
And wryten of my woful care,
Mi wofull day, my wofull chance,
That men mowe take remembrance223
Of that thei schall hierafter rede:
For in good feith this wolde I rede,
That every man ensample take
Of wisdom which him is betake,22480
And that he wot of good aprise
To teche it forth, for such emprise
Is forto preise; and therfore I
Woll wryte and schewe al openly
How love and I togedre mette,
Wherof the world ensample fette
Mai after this, whan I am go,
Of thilke unsely jolif wo,
Whos reule stant out of the weie,
Nou glad and nou gladnesse aweie,90
And yet it may noght be withstonde
For oght that men may understonde.
[His woful case.]ii.Non ego Sampsonis vires, non Herculis armaVinco, sum sed vt hii victus amore pari.Vt discant alii, docet experiencia facti,Rebus in ambiguis que sit habenda via.Deuius ordo ducis temptata pericla sequentem225Instruit a tergo, ne simul ille cadat.Me quibus ergo Venus, casus, laqueauit amantem,226Orbis in exemplum scribere tendo palam.
[His woful case.]
ii.Non ego Sampsonis vires, non Herculis arma
Vinco, sum sed vt hii victus amore pari.
Vt discant alii, docet experiencia facti,
Rebus in ambiguis que sit habenda via.
Deuius ordo ducis temptata pericla sequentem225
Instruit a tergo, ne simul ille cadat.
Me quibus ergo Venus, casus, laqueauit amantem,226
Orbis in exemplum scribere tendo palam.
Upon the point that is befalleOf love, in which that I am falle,P. i. 45I thenke telle my matiere:Now herkne, who that wol it hiere,Of my fortune how that it ferde.Hic declarat materiam, dicens qualiter Cupido quodam ignito iaculo sui cordis memoriam graui vlcere perforauit, quod Venus percipiens ipsum, vt dicit, quasi in mortis articulo spasmatum, ad confitendum se Genio sacerdoti super amoris causa sic semiuiuum specialiter commendauit.This enderday, as I forthferdeTo walke, as I yow telle may,—And that was in the Monthe of Maii,100Whan every brid hath chose his makeAnd thenkth his merthes forto make227Of love that he hath achieved;Bot so was I nothing relieved,For I was further fro my loveThan Erthe is fro the hevene above,As forto speke of eny sped:228So wiste I me non other red,Bot as it were a man forfare229Unto the wode I gan to fare,230110Noght forto singe with the briddes,For whanne I was the wode amiddes,I fond a swote grene pleine,And ther I gan my wo compleigneWisshinge and wepinge al myn one,For other merthes made I none.231So hard me was that ilke throwe,That ofte sithes overthroweTo grounde I was withoute breth;And evere I wisshide after deth,232120Whanne I out of my peine awok,[His complaint to Cupid and Venus.]And caste up many a pitous lokUnto the hevene, and seide thus:‘O thou Cupide, O thou Venus,P. i. 46Thou god of love and thou goddesse,Wher is pite? wher is meknesse?Now doth me pleinly live or dye,For certes such a maladieAs I now have and longe have hadd,It myhte make a wisman madd,233130If that it scholde longe endure.O Venus, queene of loves cure,Thou lif, thou lust, thou mannes hele,Behold my cause and my querele,And yif me som part of thi grace,So that I may finde in this placeIf thou be gracious or non.’And with that word I sawh anonThe kyng of love and qweene bothe;Bot he that kyng with yhen wrothe140His chiere aweiward fro me caste,And forth he passede ate laste.[The Fiery Dart.]Bot natheles er he forth wenteA firy Dart me thoghte he henteAnd threw it thurgh myn herte rote:In him fond I non other bote,For lenger list him noght to duelle.[Venus Queen of Love.]Bot sche that is the Source and WelleOf wel or wo, that schal betideTo hem that loven, at that tide150Abod, bot forto tellen hiereSche cast on me no goodly chiere:Thus natheles to me sche seide,‘What art thou, Sone?’ and I abreideP. i. 47Riht as a man doth out of slep,And therof tok sche riht good kepAnd bad me nothing ben adrad:Bot for al that I was noght glad,For I ne sawh no cause why.And eft scheo asketh, what was I:234160I seide, ‘A Caitif that lith hiere:235What wolde ye, my Ladi diere?236Schal I ben hol or elles dye?’237Sche seide, ‘Tell thi maladie:238What is thi Sor of which thou pleignest?239Ne hyd it noght, for if thou feignest,I can do the no medicine.’‘Ma dame, I am a man of thyne,That in thi Court have longe served,And aske that I have deserved,170Som wele after my longe wo.’And sche began to loure tho,And seide, ‘Ther is manye of yowFaitours, and so may be that thowArt riht such on, and be feintiseSeist that thou hast me do servise.’And natheles sche wiste wel,Mi world stod on an other whielWithouten eny faiterie:Bot algate of my maladie180Sche bad me telle and seie hir trowthe.‘Ma dame, if ye wolde have rowthe,’Quod I, ‘than wolde I telle yow.’240‘Sey forth,’ quod sche, ‘and tell me how;P. i. 48Schew me thi seknesse everydiel.’‘Ma dame, that can I do wel,Be so my lif therto wol laste.’With that hir lok on me sche caste,And seide: ‘In aunter if thou live,Mi will is ferst that thou be schrive;190And natheles how that it isI wot miself, bot for al this[Genius, the Priest of Love.]Unto my prest, which comth anon,I woll thou telle it on and on,Bothe all thi thoght and al thi werk.O Genius myn oghne Clerk,Com forth and hier this mannes schrifte,’Quod Venus tho; and I uplifteMin hefd with that, and gan beholdeThe selve Prest, which as sche wolde241200Was redy there and sette him dounTo hiere my confessioun.
Upon the point that is befalle
Of love, in which that I am falle,
P. i. 45
I thenke telle my matiere:
Now herkne, who that wol it hiere,
Of my fortune how that it ferde.
Hic declarat materiam, dicens qualiter Cupido quodam ignito iaculo sui cordis memoriam graui vlcere perforauit, quod Venus percipiens ipsum, vt dicit, quasi in mortis articulo spasmatum, ad confitendum se Genio sacerdoti super amoris causa sic semiuiuum specialiter commendauit.
This enderday, as I forthferde
To walke, as I yow telle may,—
And that was in the Monthe of Maii,100
Whan every brid hath chose his make
And thenkth his merthes forto make227
Of love that he hath achieved;
Bot so was I nothing relieved,
For I was further fro my love
Than Erthe is fro the hevene above,
As forto speke of eny sped:228
So wiste I me non other red,
Bot as it were a man forfare229
Unto the wode I gan to fare,230110
Noght forto singe with the briddes,
For whanne I was the wode amiddes,
I fond a swote grene pleine,
And ther I gan my wo compleigne
Wisshinge and wepinge al myn one,
For other merthes made I none.231
So hard me was that ilke throwe,
That ofte sithes overthrowe
To grounde I was withoute breth;
And evere I wisshide after deth,232120
Whanne I out of my peine awok,
[His complaint to Cupid and Venus.]
And caste up many a pitous lok
Unto the hevene, and seide thus:
‘O thou Cupide, O thou Venus,
P. i. 46
Thou god of love and thou goddesse,
Wher is pite? wher is meknesse?
Now doth me pleinly live or dye,
For certes such a maladie
As I now have and longe have hadd,
It myhte make a wisman madd,233130
If that it scholde longe endure.
O Venus, queene of loves cure,
Thou lif, thou lust, thou mannes hele,
Behold my cause and my querele,
And yif me som part of thi grace,
So that I may finde in this place
If thou be gracious or non.’
And with that word I sawh anon
The kyng of love and qweene bothe;
Bot he that kyng with yhen wrothe140
His chiere aweiward fro me caste,
And forth he passede ate laste.
[The Fiery Dart.]
Bot natheles er he forth wente
A firy Dart me thoghte he hente
And threw it thurgh myn herte rote:
In him fond I non other bote,
For lenger list him noght to duelle.
[Venus Queen of Love.]
Bot sche that is the Source and Welle
Of wel or wo, that schal betide
To hem that loven, at that tide150
Abod, bot forto tellen hiere
Sche cast on me no goodly chiere:
Thus natheles to me sche seide,
‘What art thou, Sone?’ and I abreide
P. i. 47
Riht as a man doth out of slep,
And therof tok sche riht good kep
And bad me nothing ben adrad:
Bot for al that I was noght glad,
For I ne sawh no cause why.
And eft scheo asketh, what was I:234160
I seide, ‘A Caitif that lith hiere:235
What wolde ye, my Ladi diere?236
Schal I ben hol or elles dye?’237
Sche seide, ‘Tell thi maladie:238
What is thi Sor of which thou pleignest?239
Ne hyd it noght, for if thou feignest,
I can do the no medicine.’
‘Ma dame, I am a man of thyne,
That in thi Court have longe served,
And aske that I have deserved,170
Som wele after my longe wo.’
And sche began to loure tho,
And seide, ‘Ther is manye of yow
Faitours, and so may be that thow
Art riht such on, and be feintise
Seist that thou hast me do servise.’
And natheles sche wiste wel,
Mi world stod on an other whiel
Withouten eny faiterie:
Bot algate of my maladie180
Sche bad me telle and seie hir trowthe.
‘Ma dame, if ye wolde have rowthe,’
Quod I, ‘than wolde I telle yow.’240
‘Sey forth,’ quod sche, ‘and tell me how;
P. i. 48
Schew me thi seknesse everydiel.’
‘Ma dame, that can I do wel,
Be so my lif therto wol laste.’
With that hir lok on me sche caste,
And seide: ‘In aunter if thou live,
Mi will is ferst that thou be schrive;190
And natheles how that it is
I wot miself, bot for al this
[Genius, the Priest of Love.]
Unto my prest, which comth anon,
I woll thou telle it on and on,
Bothe all thi thoght and al thi werk.
O Genius myn oghne Clerk,
Com forth and hier this mannes schrifte,’
Quod Venus tho; and I uplifte
Min hefd with that, and gan beholde
The selve Prest, which as sche wolde241200
Was redy there and sette him doun
To hiere my confessioun.
iii.Confessus Genio si sit medicina salutisExperiar morbis, quos tulit ipsa Venus.Lesa quidem ferro medicantur membra saluti,Raro tamen medicum vulnus amoris habet.
iii.Confessus Genio si sit medicina salutis
Experiar morbis, quos tulit ipsa Venus.
Lesa quidem ferro medicantur membra saluti,
Raro tamen medicum vulnus amoris habet.
[The Lover’s Shrift.]This worthi Prest, this holy manTo me spekende thus began,And seide: ‘Benedicite,Mi Sone, of the feliciteOf love and ek of all the woThou schalt thee schrive of bothe tuo.242Hic dicit qualiter Genio pro Confessore sedenti prouolutus Amans ad confitendum se flexis genibus incuruatur, supplicans tamen, vt ad sui sensus informacionem confessor ille in dicendis opponere sibi benignius dignaretur.What thou er this for loves sakeHast felt, let nothing be forsake,210P. i. 49Tell pleinliche as it is befalle.’And with that word I gan doun falleOn knees, and with devocioun243And with full gret contriciounI seide thanne: ‘Dominus,Min holi fader Genius,So as thou hast experienceOf love, for whos reverenceThou schalt me schriven at this time,I prai the let me noght mistime220Mi schrifte, for I am destourbedIn al myn herte, and so contourbed,That I ne may my wittes gete,So schal I moche thing foryete:244Bot if thou wolt my schrifte opposeFro point to point, thanne I suppose,Ther schal nothing be left behinde.245Bot now my wittes ben so blinde,That I ne can miselven teche.’Tho he began anon to preche,230And with his wordes debonaireHe seide tome softe and faire:246‘Thi schrifte to oppose and hiere,Sermo Genii sacerdotis247super confessione ad Amantem.My Sone, I am assigned hiereBe Venus the godesse above,Whos Prest I am touchende of love.Bot natheles for certein skileI mot algate and nedes wileNoght only make my spekyngesOf love, bot of othre thinges,240P. i. 50That touchen to the cause of vice.For that belongeth to thofficeOf Prest, whos ordre that I bere,So that I wol nothing forbere,That I the vices on and onNe schal thee schewen everychon;Wherof thou myht take evidenceTo reule with thi conscience.Bot of conclusion finalConclude I wol in special250For love, whos servant I am,And why the cause is that I cam.So thenke I to don bothe tuo,Ferst that myn ordre longeth to,The vices forto telle arewe,Bot next above alle othre scheweOf love I wol the propretes,How that thei stonde be degreesAfter the disposiciounOf Venus, whos condicioun260I moste folwe, as I am holde.For I with love am al withholde,So that the lasse I am to wyte,Thogh I ne conne bot a lyte248Of othre thinges that ben wise:I am noght tawht in such a wise;249For it is noght my comun usTo speke of vices and vertus,Bot al of love and of his lore,For Venus bokes of nomore270P. i. 51Me techen nowther text ne glose.Bot for als moche as I supposeIt sit a prest to be wel thewed,And schame it is if he be lewed,Of my Presthode after the formeI wol thi schrifte so enforme,That ate leste thou schalt hiere250The vices, and to thi matiere251Of love I schal hem so remene,That thou schalt knowe what thei mene.280For what a man schal axe or sein252Touchende of schrifte, it mot be plein,It nedeth noght to make it queinte,For trowthe hise wordes wol noght peinte:That I wole axe of the forthi,My Sone, it schal be so pleinly,That thou schalt knowe and understondeThe pointz of schrifte how that thei stonde.’253
[The Lover’s Shrift.]
This worthi Prest, this holy man
To me spekende thus began,
And seide: ‘Benedicite,
Mi Sone, of the felicite
Of love and ek of all the wo
Thou schalt thee schrive of bothe tuo.242
Hic dicit qualiter Genio pro Confessore sedenti prouolutus Amans ad confitendum se flexis genibus incuruatur, supplicans tamen, vt ad sui sensus informacionem confessor ille in dicendis opponere sibi benignius dignaretur.
What thou er this for loves sake
Hast felt, let nothing be forsake,210
P. i. 49
Tell pleinliche as it is befalle.’
And with that word I gan doun falle
On knees, and with devocioun243
And with full gret contricioun
I seide thanne: ‘Dominus,
Min holi fader Genius,
So as thou hast experience
Of love, for whos reverence
Thou schalt me schriven at this time,
I prai the let me noght mistime220
Mi schrifte, for I am destourbed
In al myn herte, and so contourbed,
That I ne may my wittes gete,
So schal I moche thing foryete:244
Bot if thou wolt my schrifte oppose
Fro point to point, thanne I suppose,
Ther schal nothing be left behinde.245
Bot now my wittes ben so blinde,
That I ne can miselven teche.’
Tho he began anon to preche,230
And with his wordes debonaire
He seide tome softe and faire:246
‘Thi schrifte to oppose and hiere,
Sermo Genii sacerdotis247super confessione ad Amantem.
My Sone, I am assigned hiere
Be Venus the godesse above,
Whos Prest I am touchende of love.
Bot natheles for certein skile
I mot algate and nedes wile
Noght only make my spekynges
Of love, bot of othre thinges,240
P. i. 50
That touchen to the cause of vice.
For that belongeth to thoffice
Of Prest, whos ordre that I bere,
So that I wol nothing forbere,
That I the vices on and on
Ne schal thee schewen everychon;
Wherof thou myht take evidence
To reule with thi conscience.
Bot of conclusion final
Conclude I wol in special250
For love, whos servant I am,
And why the cause is that I cam.
So thenke I to don bothe tuo,
Ferst that myn ordre longeth to,
The vices forto telle arewe,
Bot next above alle othre schewe
Of love I wol the propretes,
How that thei stonde be degrees
After the disposicioun
Of Venus, whos condicioun260
I moste folwe, as I am holde.
For I with love am al withholde,
So that the lasse I am to wyte,
Thogh I ne conne bot a lyte248
Of othre thinges that ben wise:
I am noght tawht in such a wise;249
For it is noght my comun us
To speke of vices and vertus,
Bot al of love and of his lore,
For Venus bokes of nomore270
P. i. 51
Me techen nowther text ne glose.
Bot for als moche as I suppose
It sit a prest to be wel thewed,
And schame it is if he be lewed,
Of my Presthode after the forme
I wol thi schrifte so enforme,
That ate leste thou schalt hiere250
The vices, and to thi matiere251
Of love I schal hem so remene,
That thou schalt knowe what thei mene.280
For what a man schal axe or sein252
Touchende of schrifte, it mot be plein,
It nedeth noght to make it queinte,
For trowthe hise wordes wol noght peinte:
That I wole axe of the forthi,
My Sone, it schal be so pleinly,
That thou schalt knowe and understonde
The pointz of schrifte how that thei stonde.’253
[The Five Senses.]iv.Visus et auditus fragilis sunt ostia mentis,Que viciosa manus claudere nulla potest.Est ibi larga via, graditur qua cordis ad antrumHostis, et ingrediens fossa talenta rapit.Hec michi confessor Genius primordia profert,Dum sit in extremis vita remorsa malis.Nunc tamen vt poterit semiviua loquela fateri,Verba per os timide conscia mentis agam.
[The Five Senses.]
iv.Visus et auditus fragilis sunt ostia mentis,
Que viciosa manus claudere nulla potest.
Est ibi larga via, graditur qua cordis ad antrum
Hostis, et ingrediens fossa talenta rapit.
Hec michi confessor Genius primordia profert,
Dum sit in extremis vita remorsa malis.
Nunc tamen vt poterit semiviua loquela fateri,
Verba per os timide conscia mentis agam.
Betwen the lif and deth I herdeThis Prestes tale er I answerde,290And thanne I preide him forto seieHis will, and I it wolde obeieAfter the forme of his apprise.254Hic incipit confessio Amantis, cui de duobus precipue quinque sensuum, hoc est de visu et auditu, confessor pre ceteris opponit.Tho spak he tome in such a wise,255P. i. 52And bad me that I scholde schrive256As touchende of my wittes fyve,And schape that thei were amendedOf that I hadde hem misdispended.257For tho be proprely the gates,Thurgh whiche as to the herte algates300Comth alle thing unto the feire,Which may the mannes Soule empeire.And now this matiere is broght inne,Mi Sone, I thenke ferst beginneTo wite how that thin yhe hath stonde,[Seeing.]The which is, as I understonde,The moste principal of alle,Thurgh whom that peril mai befalle.And forto speke in loves kinde,Ful manye suche a man mai finde,258310Whiche evere caste aboute here yhe,To loke if that thei myhte aspieFulofte thing which hem ne toucheth,Bot only that here herte souchethIn hindringe of an other wiht;And thus ful many a worthi knyhtAnd many a lusti lady botheHave be fulofte sythe wrothe.259So that an yhe is as a thiefTo love, and doth ful gret meschief;320And also for his oghne partFulofte thilke firy DartOf love, which that evere brenneth,Thurgh him into the herte renneth:P. i. 53And thus a mannes yhe ferstHimselve grieveth alther werst,And many a time that he knowethUnto his oghne harm it groweth.Mi Sone, herkne now forthiA tale, to be war therby330Thin yhe forto kepe and warde,So that it passe noght his warde.[Tale of Acteon.]Hic narrat Confessor exemplum260de visu ab illicitis preseruando, dicens qualiter Acteon Cadmi Regis Thebarum nepos, dum in quadam Foresta venacionis causa spaciaretur,262maccidit vt ipse quendam fontem nemorosa arborum pulcritudine circumuentum superueniens, vidit ibi Dianam cum suis Nimphis nudam in flumine balneantem; quam diligencius intuens oculos suos a muliebri nuditate nullatenus auertere volebat. Vnde indignata Diana ipsum in cerui figuram transformauit; quem canes proprii apprehendentes mortiferis dentibus penitus dilaniarunt.Ovide telleth in his bokEnsample touchende of mislok,And seith hou whilom ther was on,261A worthi lord, which ActeonWas hote, and he was cousin nyhTo him that Thebes ferst on hyhUp sette, which king Cadme hyhte.262This Acteon, as he wel myhte,340Above alle othre caste his chiere,And used it fro yer to yere,With Houndes and with grete HornesAmong the wodes and the thornesTo make his hunting and his chace:Where him best thoghte in every placeTo finde gamen in his weie,Ther rod he forto hunte and pleie.So him befell upon a tide263On his hunting as he cam ride,350In a Forest al one he was:He syh upon the grene grasThe faire freisshe floures springe,264He herde among the leves singeP. i. 54The Throstle with the nyhtingale:265Thus er he wiste into a DaleHe cam, wher was a litel plein,266All round aboute wel beseinWith buisshes grene and Cedres hyhe;And ther withinne he caste his yhe.360Amidd the plein he syh a welle,So fair ther myhte noman telle,In which Diana naked stodTo bathe and pleie hire in the flodWith many a Nimphe, which hire serveth.267Bot he his yhe awey ne swervethFro hire, which was naked al,And sche was wonder wroth withal,268And him, as sche which was godesse,Forschop anon, and the liknesse269370Sche made him taken of an Hert,270Which was tofore hise houndes stert,That ronne besiliche abouteWith many an horn and many a route,271That maden mochel noise and cry:And ate laste unhappelyThis Hert his oghne houndes slowhe272And him for vengance al todrowhe.Confessor.Lo now, my Sone, what it isA man to caste his yhe amis,380Which Acteon hath dere aboght;Be war forthi and do it noght.For ofte, who that hiede toke,Betre is to winke than to loke.P. i. 55And forto proven it is so,Ovide the Poete alsoA tale which to this matiereAcordeth seith, as thou schalt hiere.273
Betwen the lif and deth I herde
This Prestes tale er I answerde,290
And thanne I preide him forto seie
His will, and I it wolde obeie
After the forme of his apprise.254
Hic incipit confessio Amantis, cui de duobus precipue quinque sensuum, hoc est de visu et auditu, confessor pre ceteris opponit.
Tho spak he tome in such a wise,255
P. i. 52
And bad me that I scholde schrive256
As touchende of my wittes fyve,
And schape that thei were amended
Of that I hadde hem misdispended.257
For tho be proprely the gates,
Thurgh whiche as to the herte algates300
Comth alle thing unto the feire,
Which may the mannes Soule empeire.
And now this matiere is broght inne,
Mi Sone, I thenke ferst beginne
To wite how that thin yhe hath stonde,
[Seeing.]
The which is, as I understonde,
The moste principal of alle,
Thurgh whom that peril mai befalle.
And forto speke in loves kinde,
Ful manye suche a man mai finde,258310
Whiche evere caste aboute here yhe,
To loke if that thei myhte aspie
Fulofte thing which hem ne toucheth,
Bot only that here herte soucheth
In hindringe of an other wiht;
And thus ful many a worthi knyht
And many a lusti lady bothe
Have be fulofte sythe wrothe.259
So that an yhe is as a thief
To love, and doth ful gret meschief;320
And also for his oghne part
Fulofte thilke firy Dart
Of love, which that evere brenneth,
Thurgh him into the herte renneth:
P. i. 53
And thus a mannes yhe ferst
Himselve grieveth alther werst,
And many a time that he knoweth
Unto his oghne harm it groweth.
Mi Sone, herkne now forthi
A tale, to be war therby330
Thin yhe forto kepe and warde,
So that it passe noght his warde.
[Tale of Acteon.]
Hic narrat Confessor exemplum260de visu ab illicitis preseruando, dicens qualiter Acteon Cadmi Regis Thebarum nepos, dum in quadam Foresta venacionis causa spaciaretur,262maccidit vt ipse quendam fontem nemorosa arborum pulcritudine circumuentum superueniens, vidit ibi Dianam cum suis Nimphis nudam in flumine balneantem; quam diligencius intuens oculos suos a muliebri nuditate nullatenus auertere volebat. Vnde indignata Diana ipsum in cerui figuram transformauit; quem canes proprii apprehendentes mortiferis dentibus penitus dilaniarunt.
Ovide telleth in his bok
Ensample touchende of mislok,
And seith hou whilom ther was on,261
A worthi lord, which Acteon
Was hote, and he was cousin nyh
To him that Thebes ferst on hyh
Up sette, which king Cadme hyhte.262
This Acteon, as he wel myhte,340
Above alle othre caste his chiere,
And used it fro yer to yere,
With Houndes and with grete Hornes
Among the wodes and the thornes
To make his hunting and his chace:
Where him best thoghte in every place
To finde gamen in his weie,
Ther rod he forto hunte and pleie.
So him befell upon a tide263
On his hunting as he cam ride,350
In a Forest al one he was:
He syh upon the grene gras
The faire freisshe floures springe,264
He herde among the leves singe
P. i. 54
The Throstle with the nyhtingale:265
Thus er he wiste into a Dale
He cam, wher was a litel plein,266
All round aboute wel besein
With buisshes grene and Cedres hyhe;
And ther withinne he caste his yhe.360
Amidd the plein he syh a welle,
So fair ther myhte noman telle,
In which Diana naked stod
To bathe and pleie hire in the flod
With many a Nimphe, which hire serveth.267
Bot he his yhe awey ne swerveth
Fro hire, which was naked al,
And sche was wonder wroth withal,268
And him, as sche which was godesse,
Forschop anon, and the liknesse269370
Sche made him taken of an Hert,270
Which was tofore hise houndes stert,
That ronne besiliche aboute
With many an horn and many a route,271
That maden mochel noise and cry:
And ate laste unhappely
This Hert his oghne houndes slowhe272
And him for vengance al todrowhe.
Confessor.
Lo now, my Sone, what it is
A man to caste his yhe amis,380
Which Acteon hath dere aboght;
Be war forthi and do it noght.
For ofte, who that hiede toke,
Betre is to winke than to loke.
P. i. 55
And forto proven it is so,
Ovide the Poete also
A tale which to this matiere
Acordeth seith, as thou schalt hiere.273
[Tale of Medusa.]Hic ponit aliud exemplum de eodem, vbi dicit quod quidam princeps nomine Phorceus tres progenuit filias, Gorgones a vulgo nuncupatas, que uno partu exorte deformitatem Monstrorum serpentinam obtinuerunt; quibus, cum in etatem peruenerant, talis destinata fuerat natura, quod quicumque in eas aspiceret in lapidem subito mutabatur. Et sic quam plures incaute respicientes visis illis perierunt. Set Perseus miles clipeo Palladis gladioque Mercurii munitus eas extra montem Athlantis cohabitantes animo audaci absque sui periculo interfecit.In Metamor it telleth thus,How that a lord which Phorceüs390Was hote, hadde dowhtres thre.274Bot upon here nativiteSuch was the constellacion,That out of mannes nacionFro kynde thei be so miswent,That to the liknesse of SerpentThei were bore, and so that on275Of hem was cleped Stellibon,That other soster Suriale,The thridde, as telleth in the tale,400Medusa hihte, and nathelesOf comun name GorgonesIn every contre ther aboute,As Monstres whiche that men doute,Men clepen hem; and bot on yheAmong hem thre in pourpartieThei hadde, of which thei myhte se,Now hath it this, now hath it sche;After that cause and nede it ladde,Be throwes ech of hem it hadde.410A wonder thing yet more amisTher was, wherof I telle al this:What man on hem his chiere casteAnd hem behield, he was als fasteP. i. 56Out of a man into a StonForschape, and thus ful manyonDeceived were, of that thei woldeMisloke, wher that thei ne scholde.Bot Perseüs that worthi knyht,Whom Pallas of hir grete myht420Halp, and tok him a Schield therto,And ek the god Mercurie alsoLente him a swerd, he, as it fell,276Beyende Athlans the hihe hellThese Monstres soghte, and there he fond277Diverse men of thilke londThurgh sihte of hem mistorned were,Stondende as Stones hiere and there.Bot he, which wisdom and prouesseHadde of the god and the godesse,278430The Schield of Pallas gan enbrace,With which he covereth sauf his face,Mercuries Swerd and out he drowh,And so he bar him that he slowhThese dredful Monstres alle thre.Confessor.Lo now, my Sone, avise the,That thou thi sihte noght misuse:Cast noght thin yhe upon Meduse,That thou be torned into Ston:For so wys man was nevere non,440Bot if he wel his yhe kepe279And take of fol delit no kepe,That he with lust nys ofte nome,Thurgh strengthe of love and overcome.P. i. 57Of mislokynge how it hath ferd,As I have told, now hast thou herd,My goode Sone, and tak good hiede.280[Hearing.]And overthis yet I thee redeThat thou be war of thin heringe,Which to the Herte the tidinge450Of many a vanite hath broght,To tarie with a mannes thoght.And natheles good is to hiereSuch thing wherof a man may lere281That to vertu is acordant,And toward al the remenantGood is to torne his Ere fro;For elles, bot a man do so,Him may fulofte mysbefalle.I rede ensample amonges alle,460Wherof to kepe wel an EreIt oghte pute a man in fere.
[Tale of Medusa.]
Hic ponit aliud exemplum de eodem, vbi dicit quod quidam princeps nomine Phorceus tres progenuit filias, Gorgones a vulgo nuncupatas, que uno partu exorte deformitatem Monstrorum serpentinam obtinuerunt; quibus, cum in etatem peruenerant, talis destinata fuerat natura, quod quicumque in eas aspiceret in lapidem subito mutabatur. Et sic quam plures incaute respicientes visis illis perierunt. Set Perseus miles clipeo Palladis gladioque Mercurii munitus eas extra montem Athlantis cohabitantes animo audaci absque sui periculo interfecit.
In Metamor it telleth thus,
How that a lord which Phorceüs390
Was hote, hadde dowhtres thre.274
Bot upon here nativite
Such was the constellacion,
That out of mannes nacion
Fro kynde thei be so miswent,
That to the liknesse of Serpent
Thei were bore, and so that on275
Of hem was cleped Stellibon,
That other soster Suriale,
The thridde, as telleth in the tale,400
Medusa hihte, and natheles
Of comun name Gorgones
In every contre ther aboute,
As Monstres whiche that men doute,
Men clepen hem; and bot on yhe
Among hem thre in pourpartie
Thei hadde, of which thei myhte se,
Now hath it this, now hath it sche;
After that cause and nede it ladde,
Be throwes ech of hem it hadde.410
A wonder thing yet more amis
Ther was, wherof I telle al this:
What man on hem his chiere caste
And hem behield, he was als faste
P. i. 56
Out of a man into a Ston
Forschape, and thus ful manyon
Deceived were, of that thei wolde
Misloke, wher that thei ne scholde.
Bot Perseüs that worthi knyht,
Whom Pallas of hir grete myht420
Halp, and tok him a Schield therto,
And ek the god Mercurie also
Lente him a swerd, he, as it fell,276
Beyende Athlans the hihe hell
These Monstres soghte, and there he fond277
Diverse men of thilke lond
Thurgh sihte of hem mistorned were,
Stondende as Stones hiere and there.
Bot he, which wisdom and prouesse
Hadde of the god and the godesse,278430
The Schield of Pallas gan enbrace,
With which he covereth sauf his face,
Mercuries Swerd and out he drowh,
And so he bar him that he slowh
These dredful Monstres alle thre.
Confessor.
Lo now, my Sone, avise the,
That thou thi sihte noght misuse:
Cast noght thin yhe upon Meduse,
That thou be torned into Ston:
For so wys man was nevere non,440
Bot if he wel his yhe kepe279
And take of fol delit no kepe,
That he with lust nys ofte nome,
Thurgh strengthe of love and overcome.
P. i. 57
Of mislokynge how it hath ferd,
As I have told, now hast thou herd,
My goode Sone, and tak good hiede.280
[Hearing.]
And overthis yet I thee rede
That thou be war of thin heringe,
Which to the Herte the tidinge450
Of many a vanite hath broght,
To tarie with a mannes thoght.
And natheles good is to hiere
Such thing wherof a man may lere281
That to vertu is acordant,
And toward al the remenant
Good is to torne his Ere fro;
For elles, bot a man do so,
Him may fulofte mysbefalle.
I rede ensample amonges alle,460
Wherof to kepe wel an Ere
It oghte pute a man in fere.