[Sloth.]P. ii. 1i.Dicunt accidiam fore nutricem viciorum,Torpet et in cunctis tarda que lenta bonis:Que fieri possent hodie transfert piger in cras,Furatoque prius ostia claudit equo.Poscenti tardo negat emolumenta Cupido,Set Venus in celeri ludit amore viri.1091[i.Lachesse.]Upon the vices to procedeAfter the cause of mannes dede,The ferste point of Slowthe I calleHic in quarto libro loquitur Confessor de speciebus Accidie, quarum primam Tardacionem vocat, cuius condicionem pertractans Amanti super hoc consequenter opponit.Lachesce, and is the chief of alle,And hath this propreliche of kinde,To leven alle thing behinde.Of that he mihte do now hierHe tarieth al the longe yer,And everemore he seith, ‘Tomorwe’;And so he wol his time borwe,10P. ii. 2And wissheth after ‘God me sende,’That whan he weneth have an ende,1092Thanne is he ferthest to beginne.Thus bringth he many a meschief inneUnwar, til that he be meschieved,And may noght thanne be relieved.And riht so nowther mor ne lesseIt stant of love and of lachesce:Som time he slowtheth in a dayThat he nevere after gete mai.20Now, Sone, as of this ilke thing,If thou have eny knowleching,That thou to love hast don er this,Tell on.Confessio Amantis.Mi goode fader, yis.As of lachesce I am beknoweThat I mai stonde upon his rowe,As I that am clad of his suite:For whanne I thoghte mi poursuiteTo make, and therto sette a dayTo speke unto the swete May,109330Lachesce bad abide yit,And bar on hond it was no witNe time forto speke as tho.Thus with his tales to and froMi time in tariinge he drowh:Whan ther was time good ynowh,He seide, ‘An other time is bettre;Thou schalt mowe senden hire a lettre,And per cas wryte more pleinThan thou be Mowthe durstest sein.’40P. ii. 3Thus have I lete time slydeFor Slowthe, and kepte noght my tide,So that lachesce with his viceFulofte hath mad my wit so nyce,That what I thoghte speke or do1094With tariinge he hield me so,1095Til whanne I wolde and mihte noght.I not what thing was in my thoght,Or it was drede, or it was schame;Bot evere in ernest and in game50I wot ther is long time passed.Bot yit is noght the love lassed,Which I unto mi ladi have;For thogh my tunge is slowh to craveAt alle time, as I have bede,Min herte stant evere in o stedeAnd axeth besiliche grace,The which I mai noght yit embrace.And god wot that is malgre myn;1096For this I wot riht wel a fin,60Mi grace comth so selde aboute,That is the Slowthe of which I douteMor than of al the remenantWhich is to love appourtenant.And thus as touchende of lachesce,As I have told, I me confesseTo you, mi fader, and besecheThat furthermor ye wol me teche;And if ther be to this matiere1097Som goodly tale forto liere109870P. ii. 4How I mai do lachesce aweie,That ye it wolden telle I preie.Confessor.To wisse thee, my Sone, and rede,Among the tales whiche I rede,An old ensample theruponNow herkne, and I wol tellen on.[Eneas and Dido.]Ayein Lachesce in loves casI finde how whilom Eneas,Whom Anchises to Sone hadde,Hic ponit Confessor exemplum contra istos qui in amoris causa tardantes delinquunt. Et narrat qualiter Dido Regina Cartaginis Eneam ab incendiis Troie fugitiuum in amorem suum gauisa suscepit: qui cum postea in partes Ytalie a Cartagine bellaturum se transtulit, nimiamque ibidem moram faciens tempus reditus sui ad Didonem vltra modum tardauit, ipsa intollerabili dolore concussa sui cordis intima mortali gladio transfodit.With gret navie, which he ladde80Fro Troie, aryveth at Cartage,Wher for a while his herbergageHe tok: and it betidde so,With hire which was qweene tho1099Of the Cite his aqueintanceHe wan, whos name in remembranceIs yit, and Dido sche was hote;Which loveth Eneas so hoteUpon the wordes whiche he seide,That al hire herte on him sche leide90And dede al holi what he wolde.Bot after that, as it be scholde,Fro thenne he goth toward YtaileBe Schipe, and there his arivaileHath take, and schop him forto ryde.Bot sche, which mai noght longe abideThe hote peine of loves throwe,Anon withinne a litel throweA lettre unto hir kniht hath write,And dede him pleinly forto wite,100P. ii. 5If he made eny tariinge,To drecche of his ayeincomynge,That sche ne mihte him fiele and se,Sche scholde stonde in such degreAs whilom stod a Swan tofore,Of that sche hadde hire make lore;For sorwe a fethere into hire brainShe schof and hath hireselve slain;As king Menander in a lay1100The sothe hath founde, wher sche lay110Sprantlende with hire wynges tweie,1101As sche which scholde thanne deieFor love of him which was hire make.‘And so schal I do for thi sake,’This qweene seide, ‘wel I wot.’Lo, to Enee thus sche wrotWith many an other word of pleinte:Bot he, which hadde hise thoghtes feinteTowardes love and full of Slowthe,His time lette, and that was rowthe:120For sche, which loveth him tofore,Desireth evere more and more,And whan sche sih him tarie so,Hire herte was so full of wo,That compleignende manyfoldSche hath hire oghne tale told,Unto hirself and thus sche spak:‘Ha, who fond evere such a lakOf Slowthe in eny worthi kniht?Now wot I wel my deth is diht130P. ii. 6Thurgh him which scholde have be mi lif.’Bot forto stinten al this strif,Thus whan sche sih non other bote,Riht evene unto hire herte roteA naked swerd anon sche threste,And thus sche gat hireselve resteIn remembrance of alle slowe.Confessor.Wherof, my Sone, thou miht knowe1102How tariinge upon the nedeIn loves cause is forto drede;140And that hath Dido sore aboght,Whos deth schal evere be bethoght.And overmore if I schal seche1103In this matiere an other spieche,In a Cronique I finde writeA tale which is good to wite.[Ulysses and Penelope.]At Troie whan king UlixesUpon the Siege among the presOf hem that worthi knihtes wereAbod long time stille there,150Hic loquitur super eodem qualiter Penolope Vlixem maritum suum, in obsidione Troie diucius morantem, ob ipsius ibidem tardacionem Epistola sua redarguit.In thilke time a man mai seHow goodli that Penolope,Which was to him his trewe wif,Of his lachesce was pleintif;Wherof to Troie sche him sendeHire will be lettre, thus spekende:‘Mi worthi love and lord also,It is and hath ben evere so,That wher a womman is al one,It makth a man in his persone160P. ii. 7The more hardi forto wowe,In hope that sche wolde boweTo such thing as his wille were,Whil that hire lord were elleswhere.And of miself I telle this;For it so longe passed is,Sithe ferst than ye fro home wente,That welnyh every man his wente1104To there I am, whil ye ben oute,Hath mad, and ech of hem aboute,1105170Which love can, my love secheth,With gret preiere and me besecheth:And some maken gret manace,That if thei mihten come in place,Wher that thei mihte here wille have,Ther is nothing me scholde save,That thei ne wolde werche thinges;And some tellen me tidyngesThat ye ben ded, and some seinThat certeinly ye ben besein180To love a newe and leve me.Bot hou as evere that it be,I thonke unto the goddes alle,As yit for oght that is befalle1106Mai noman do my chekes rede:Bot natheles it is to drede,That Lachesse in continuanceFortune mihte such a chance,Which noman after scholde amende.’1107Lo, thus this ladi compleignende190P. ii. 8A lettre unto hire lord hath write,And preyde him that he wolde witeAnd thenke hou that sche was al his,And that he tarie noght in this,Bot that he wolde his love aquite,To hire ayeinward and noght wryte,Bot come himself in alle haste,That he non other paper waste;So that he kepe and holde his trowtheWithoute lette of eny Slowthe.200Unto hire lord and love liegeTo Troie, wher the grete SiegeWas leid, this lettre was conveied.And he, which wisdom hath pourveiedOf al that to reson belongeth,1108With gentil herte it underfongeth:And whan he hath it overrad,In part he was riht inly glad,1109And ek in part he was desesed:Bot love his herte hath so thorghsesed210With pure ymaginacioun,That for non occupaciounWhich he can take on other side,He mai noght flitt his herte aside1110Fro that his wif him hadde enformed;1111Wherof he hath himself conformedWith al the wille of his corageTo schape and take the viageHomward, what time that he mai:So that him thenketh of a day220P. ii. 9A thousand yer, til he mai seThe visage of Penolope,Which he desireth most of alle.And whan the time is so befalleThat Troie wasdestruid and brent,He made non delaiement,1112Bot goth him home in alle hihe,Wher that he fond tofore his yheHis worthi wif in good astat:And thus was cessed the debat230Of love, and Slowthe was excused,Which doth gret harm, where it is used,And hindreth many a cause honeste.[Grosteste.]For of the grete Clerc Grossteste1113Nota adhuc super eodem de quodam Astrologo, qui quoddam opus ingeniosum quasi ad complementum septennio perducens, vnius momenti tardacione omnem sui operis diligenciam penitus frustrauit.I rede how besy that he wasUpon clergie an Hed of brasTo forge, and make it forto telleOf suche thinges as befelle.And sevene yeres besinesseHe leyde, bot for the lachesse240Of half a Minut of an houre,Fro ferst that he began laboure1114He loste all that he hadde do.And otherwhile it fareth so,In loves cause who is slow,That he withoute under the wowBe nyhte stant fulofte acold,Which mihte, if that he hadde woldHis time kept, have be withinne.[The Foolish Virgins.]Bot Slowthe mai no profit winne,250P. ii. 10Bot he mai singe in his karoleNota adhuc contra tardacionem de v. virginibus fatuis, que nimiam moram facientes intrante sponso ad nupcias cum ipso non introierunt.How Latewar cam to the Dole,Wher he no good receive mihte.And that was proved wel be nyhte1115Whilom of the Maidenes fyve,1116Whan thilke lord cam forto wyve:For that here oyle was aweieTo lihte here lampes in his weie,Here Slowthe broghte it so aboute,Fro him that thei ben schet withoute.260Confessor.Wherof, my Sone, be thou war,1117Als ferforth as I telle dar.For love moste ben awaited:1118And if thou be noght wel affaitedIn love to eschuie Slowthe,Mi Sone, forto telle trowthe,Thou miht noght of thiself ben ableTo winne love or make it stable,All thogh thou mihtest love achieve.Confessio AmantisMi fader, that I mai wel lieve.270Bot me was nevere assigned place,Wher yit to geten eny grace,Ne me was non such time apointed;For thanne I wolde I were unjoyntedOf every lime that I have,If I ne scholde kepe and save1119Min houre bothe and ek my stede,1120If my ladi it hadde bede.Bot sche is otherwise avisedThan grante such a time assised;280P. ii. 11And natheles of mi lachesseTher hath be no defalte I gesseOf time lost, if that I mihte:1121Bot yit hire liketh noght alyhte[Lachesse.]Upon no lure which I caste;For ay the more I crie faste,The lasse hire liketh forto hiere.So forto speke of this matiere,I seche that I mai noght finde,I haste and evere I am behinde,290And wot noght what it mai amounte.Bot, fader, upon myn acompte,Which ye be sett to examineOf Schrifte after the discipline,Sey what your beste conseil is.Confessor.Mi Sone, my conseil is this:1122Hou so it stonde of time go,1123Do forth thi besinesse so,That no Lachesce in the be founde:For Slowthe is mihti to confounde300The spied of every mannes werk.For many a vice, as seith the clerk,Ther hongen upon Slowthes lappeOf suche as make a man mishappe,To pleigne and telle of hadde I wist.And therupon if that thee listTo knowe of Slowthes cause more,In special yit overmoreTher is a vice full grevableTo him which is therof coupable,1124310P. ii. 12And stant of alle vertu bare,Hierafter as I schal declare.[ii.Pusillanimity.]ii.Qui nichil attemptat, nichil expedit, oreque mutoMunus Amicicie vir sibi raro capit.Est modus in verbis, set ei qui parcit amori1125Verba referre sua, non fauet vllus amor.1126Touchende of Slowthe in his degre,Ther is yit Pusillamite,Which is to seie in this langage,Hic loquitur Confessor de quadam specie Accidie, que pusillanimitas dicta est, cuius ymaginatiua formido neque virtutes aggredi neque vicia fugere audet; sicque vtriusque vite, tam actiue quam contemplatiue, premium non attingit.He that hath litel of corageAnd dar no mannes werk beginne:So mai he noght be resoun winne;For who that noght dar undertake,Be riht he schal no profit take.320Bot of this vice the natureDar nothing sette in aventure,Him lacketh bothe word and dede,Wherof he scholde his cause spede:He woll no manhed understonde,For evere he hath drede upon honde:Al is peril that he schal seie,Him thenkth the wolf is in the weie,1127And of ymaginaciounHe makth his excusacioun330And feigneth cause of pure drede,And evere he faileth ate nede,Til al be spilt that he with deleth.He hath the sor which noman heleth,The which is cleped lack of herte;Thogh every grace aboute him sterte,P. ii. 13He wol noght ones stere his fot;So that be resoun lese he mot,That wol noght auntre forto winne.Confessor.And so forth, Sone, if we beginne340To speke of love and his servise,Ther ben truantz in such a wise,1128That lacken herte, whan best wereTo speke of love, and riht for fereThei wexen doumb and dar noght telle,Withoute soun as doth the belle,Which hath no claper forto chyme;And riht so thei as for the tymeBen herteles withoute specheOf love, and dar nothing beseche;350And thus thei lese and winne noght.Forthi, my Sone, if thou art oghtCoupable as touchende of this Slowthe,Schrif thee therof and tell me trowthe.Amans.Mi fader, I am al beknoweThat I have ben on of tho slowe,1129As forto telle in loves cas.Min herte is yit and evere was,As thogh the world scholde al tobreke,1130So ferful, that I dar noght speke360Of what pourpos that I have nome,Whan I toward mi ladi come,Bot let it passe and overgo.1131Confessor.Mi Sone, do nomore so:For after that a man poursuiethTo love, so fortune suieth,P. ii. 14Fulofte and yifth hire happi chanceTo him which makth continuanceTo preie love and to beseche;As be ensample I schal thee teche.370[Pygmaleon and the Statue.]I finde hou whilom ther was on,Whos name was Pymaleon,1132Which was a lusti man of yowthe:Hic in amoris causa loquitur contra pusillanimes, et dicit quod Amans pre timore verbis obmutescere non debet, set continuando preces sui amoris expedicionem tucius prosequatur. Et ponit Confessor exemplum, qualiter Pigmaleon, pro eo quod preces continuauit, quandam ymaginem eburneam, cuius pulcritudinis concupiscencia illaqueatus extitit, in carnem et sanguinem ad latus suum transformatam senciit.The werkes of entaile he cowtheAbove alle othre men as tho;And thurgh fortune it fell him so,As he whom love schal travaile,He made an ymage of entaileLich to a womman in semblanceOf feture and of contienance,380So fair yit nevere was figure.Riht as a lyves creatureSche semeth, for of yvor whytHe hath hire wroght of such delit,1133That sche was rody on the chekeAnd red on bothe hire lippes eke;Wherof that he himself beguileth.For with a goodly lok sche smyleth,So that thurgh pure impressionOf his ymaginacion390With al the herte of his corageHis love upon this faire ymageHe sette, and hire of love preide;Bot sche no word ayeinward seide.The longe day, what thing he dede,This ymage in the same stedeP. ii. 15Was evere bi, that ate meteHe wolde hire serve and preide hire ete,And putte unto hire mowth the cuppe;And whan the bord was taken uppe,400He hath hire into chambre nome,1134And after, whan the nyht was come,He leide hire in his bed al nakid.1135He was forwept, he was forwakid,He keste hire colde lippes ofte,And wissheth that thei weren softe,And ofte he rouneth in hire Ere,And ofte his arm now hier now thereHe leide, as he hir wolde embrace,And evere among he axeth grace,410As thogh sche wiste what he mente:1136And thus himself he gan tormenteWith such desese of loves peine,That noman mihte him more peine.Bot how it were, of his penanceHe made such continuanceFro dai to nyht, and preith so longe,That his preiere is underfonge,Which Venus of hire grace herde;Be nyhte and whan that he worst ferde,420And it lay in his nakede arm,The colde ymage he fieleth warmOf fleissh and bon and full of lif.Lo, thus he wan a lusti wif,Which obeissant was at his wille;And if he wolde have holde him stilleP. ii. 16And nothing spoke, he scholde have failed:Bot for he hath his word travailedAnd dorste speke, his love he spedde,And hadde al that he wolde abedde.430For er thei wente thanne atwo,A knave child betwen hem twoThei gete, which was after hotePaphus, of whom yit hath the noteA certein yle, which PaphosMen clepe, and of his name it ros.Confessor.Be this ensample thou miht findeThat word mai worche above kinde.Forthi, my Sone, if that thou spareTo speke, lost is al thi fare,440For Slowthe bringth in alle wo.And over this to loke also,The god of love is favorableTo hem that ben of love stable,And many a wonder hath befalle:Wherof to speke amonges alle,If that thee list to taken hede,Therof a solein tale I rede,Which I schal telle in remembraunceUpon the sort of loves chaunce.450[Tale of Iphis.]The king Ligdus upon a strifSpak unto Thelacuse his wif,Which thanne was with childe grete;1137He swor it scholde noght be lete,Hic ponit exemplum super eodem, qualiter Rex Ligdus vxori sue Thelacuse pregnanti minabatur, quod si filiam pareret, infans occideretur: que tamen postea cum filiam ediderat, Isis1138dea partus tunc presens filiam nomine filii Yphim appellari ipsamque more masculi educari admonuit: quam pater filium credens, ipsam in maritagium filie cuiusdam principis etate solita copulauit. Set cum Yphis debitum sue coniugi vnde soluere non habuit, deos in sui adiutorium interpellabat; qui super hoc miserti femininum genus in masculinum ob affectum nature in Yphe per omnia transmutarunt.That if sche have a dowhter bore,That it ne scholde be forloreP. ii. 17And slain, wherof sche sory was.So it befell upon this cas,Whan sche delivered scholde be,Isis be nyhte in privete,460Which of childinge is the goddesse,Cam forto helpe in that destresse,Til that this lady was al smal,And hadde a dowhter forth withal;Which the goddesse in alle weieBad kepe, and that thei scholden seieIt were a Sone: and thus IphisThei namede him, and upon thisThe fader was mad so to wene.And thus in chambre with the qweene1139470This Iphis was forthdrawe tho,And clothed and arraied soRiht as a kinges Sone scholde.Til after, as fortune it wolde,Whan it was of a ten yer age,Him was betake in mariageA Duckes dowhter forto wedde,Which Iante hihte, and ofte abeddeThese children leien, sche and sche,1140Whiche of on age bothe be.480So that withinne time of yeeres,1141Togedre as thei ben pleiefieres,Liggende abedde upon a nyht,Nature, which doth every wihtUpon hire lawe forto muse,Constreigneth hem, so that thei useP. ii. 18Thing which to hem was al unknowe;Wherof Cupide thilke throweTok pite for the grete love,And let do sette kinde above,490So that hir lawe mai ben used,And thei upon here lust excused.For love hateth nothing moreThan thing which stant ayein the loreOf that nature in kinde hath sett:Forthi Cupide hath so besettHis grace upon this aventure,1142That heacordant to nature,1143Whan that he syh the time best,1144That ech of hem hath other kest,500Transformeth Iphe into a man,Wherof the kinde love he wanOf lusti yonge Iante his wif;And tho thei ladde a merie lif,Which was to kinde non offence.Confessor.And thus to take an evidence,It semeth love is welwillendeTo hem that ben continuendeWith besy herte to poursuieThing which that is to love due.510Wherof, my Sone, in this matiereThou miht ensample taken hiere,That with thi grete besinesseThou miht atteigne the richesse1145Of love, if that ther be no Slowthe.1146Amans.I dar wel seie be mi trowthe,P. ii. 19Als fer as I my witt can seche,1147Mi fader, as for lacke of speche,Bot so as I me schrof tofore,Ther is non other time lore,520Wherof ther mihte ben obstacle1148To lette love of his miracle,Which I beseche day and nyht.Bot, fader, so as it is rihtIn forme of schrifte to beknoweWhat thing belongeth to the slowe,Your faderhode I wolde preie,If ther be forthere eny weieTouchende unto this ilke vice.Confessor.Mi Sone, ye, of this office530Ther serveth on in special,Which lost hath his memorial,So that he can no wit withholdeIn thing which he to kepe is holde,Wherof fulofte himself he grieveth:1149And who that most upon him lieveth,Whan that hise wittes ben so weyved,He mai full lihtly be deceived.
[Sloth.]P. ii. 1i.Dicunt accidiam fore nutricem viciorum,Torpet et in cunctis tarda que lenta bonis:Que fieri possent hodie transfert piger in cras,Furatoque prius ostia claudit equo.Poscenti tardo negat emolumenta Cupido,Set Venus in celeri ludit amore viri.1091[i.Lachesse.]Upon the vices to procedeAfter the cause of mannes dede,The ferste point of Slowthe I calleHic in quarto libro loquitur Confessor de speciebus Accidie, quarum primam Tardacionem vocat, cuius condicionem pertractans Amanti super hoc consequenter opponit.Lachesce, and is the chief of alle,And hath this propreliche of kinde,To leven alle thing behinde.Of that he mihte do now hierHe tarieth al the longe yer,And everemore he seith, ‘Tomorwe’;And so he wol his time borwe,10P. ii. 2And wissheth after ‘God me sende,’That whan he weneth have an ende,1092Thanne is he ferthest to beginne.Thus bringth he many a meschief inneUnwar, til that he be meschieved,And may noght thanne be relieved.And riht so nowther mor ne lesseIt stant of love and of lachesce:Som time he slowtheth in a dayThat he nevere after gete mai.20Now, Sone, as of this ilke thing,If thou have eny knowleching,That thou to love hast don er this,Tell on.Confessio Amantis.Mi goode fader, yis.As of lachesce I am beknoweThat I mai stonde upon his rowe,As I that am clad of his suite:For whanne I thoghte mi poursuiteTo make, and therto sette a dayTo speke unto the swete May,109330Lachesce bad abide yit,And bar on hond it was no witNe time forto speke as tho.Thus with his tales to and froMi time in tariinge he drowh:Whan ther was time good ynowh,He seide, ‘An other time is bettre;Thou schalt mowe senden hire a lettre,And per cas wryte more pleinThan thou be Mowthe durstest sein.’40P. ii. 3Thus have I lete time slydeFor Slowthe, and kepte noght my tide,So that lachesce with his viceFulofte hath mad my wit so nyce,That what I thoghte speke or do1094With tariinge he hield me so,1095Til whanne I wolde and mihte noght.I not what thing was in my thoght,Or it was drede, or it was schame;Bot evere in ernest and in game50I wot ther is long time passed.Bot yit is noght the love lassed,Which I unto mi ladi have;For thogh my tunge is slowh to craveAt alle time, as I have bede,Min herte stant evere in o stedeAnd axeth besiliche grace,The which I mai noght yit embrace.And god wot that is malgre myn;1096For this I wot riht wel a fin,60Mi grace comth so selde aboute,That is the Slowthe of which I douteMor than of al the remenantWhich is to love appourtenant.And thus as touchende of lachesce,As I have told, I me confesseTo you, mi fader, and besecheThat furthermor ye wol me teche;And if ther be to this matiere1097Som goodly tale forto liere109870P. ii. 4How I mai do lachesce aweie,That ye it wolden telle I preie.Confessor.To wisse thee, my Sone, and rede,Among the tales whiche I rede,An old ensample theruponNow herkne, and I wol tellen on.[Eneas and Dido.]Ayein Lachesce in loves casI finde how whilom Eneas,Whom Anchises to Sone hadde,Hic ponit Confessor exemplum contra istos qui in amoris causa tardantes delinquunt. Et narrat qualiter Dido Regina Cartaginis Eneam ab incendiis Troie fugitiuum in amorem suum gauisa suscepit: qui cum postea in partes Ytalie a Cartagine bellaturum se transtulit, nimiamque ibidem moram faciens tempus reditus sui ad Didonem vltra modum tardauit, ipsa intollerabili dolore concussa sui cordis intima mortali gladio transfodit.With gret navie, which he ladde80Fro Troie, aryveth at Cartage,Wher for a while his herbergageHe tok: and it betidde so,With hire which was qweene tho1099Of the Cite his aqueintanceHe wan, whos name in remembranceIs yit, and Dido sche was hote;Which loveth Eneas so hoteUpon the wordes whiche he seide,That al hire herte on him sche leide90And dede al holi what he wolde.Bot after that, as it be scholde,Fro thenne he goth toward YtaileBe Schipe, and there his arivaileHath take, and schop him forto ryde.Bot sche, which mai noght longe abideThe hote peine of loves throwe,Anon withinne a litel throweA lettre unto hir kniht hath write,And dede him pleinly forto wite,100P. ii. 5If he made eny tariinge,To drecche of his ayeincomynge,That sche ne mihte him fiele and se,Sche scholde stonde in such degreAs whilom stod a Swan tofore,Of that sche hadde hire make lore;For sorwe a fethere into hire brainShe schof and hath hireselve slain;As king Menander in a lay1100The sothe hath founde, wher sche lay110Sprantlende with hire wynges tweie,1101As sche which scholde thanne deieFor love of him which was hire make.‘And so schal I do for thi sake,’This qweene seide, ‘wel I wot.’Lo, to Enee thus sche wrotWith many an other word of pleinte:Bot he, which hadde hise thoghtes feinteTowardes love and full of Slowthe,His time lette, and that was rowthe:120For sche, which loveth him tofore,Desireth evere more and more,And whan sche sih him tarie so,Hire herte was so full of wo,That compleignende manyfoldSche hath hire oghne tale told,Unto hirself and thus sche spak:‘Ha, who fond evere such a lakOf Slowthe in eny worthi kniht?Now wot I wel my deth is diht130P. ii. 6Thurgh him which scholde have be mi lif.’Bot forto stinten al this strif,Thus whan sche sih non other bote,Riht evene unto hire herte roteA naked swerd anon sche threste,And thus sche gat hireselve resteIn remembrance of alle slowe.Confessor.Wherof, my Sone, thou miht knowe1102How tariinge upon the nedeIn loves cause is forto drede;140And that hath Dido sore aboght,Whos deth schal evere be bethoght.And overmore if I schal seche1103In this matiere an other spieche,In a Cronique I finde writeA tale which is good to wite.[Ulysses and Penelope.]At Troie whan king UlixesUpon the Siege among the presOf hem that worthi knihtes wereAbod long time stille there,150Hic loquitur super eodem qualiter Penolope Vlixem maritum suum, in obsidione Troie diucius morantem, ob ipsius ibidem tardacionem Epistola sua redarguit.In thilke time a man mai seHow goodli that Penolope,Which was to him his trewe wif,Of his lachesce was pleintif;Wherof to Troie sche him sendeHire will be lettre, thus spekende:‘Mi worthi love and lord also,It is and hath ben evere so,That wher a womman is al one,It makth a man in his persone160P. ii. 7The more hardi forto wowe,In hope that sche wolde boweTo such thing as his wille were,Whil that hire lord were elleswhere.And of miself I telle this;For it so longe passed is,Sithe ferst than ye fro home wente,That welnyh every man his wente1104To there I am, whil ye ben oute,Hath mad, and ech of hem aboute,1105170Which love can, my love secheth,With gret preiere and me besecheth:And some maken gret manace,That if thei mihten come in place,Wher that thei mihte here wille have,Ther is nothing me scholde save,That thei ne wolde werche thinges;And some tellen me tidyngesThat ye ben ded, and some seinThat certeinly ye ben besein180To love a newe and leve me.Bot hou as evere that it be,I thonke unto the goddes alle,As yit for oght that is befalle1106Mai noman do my chekes rede:Bot natheles it is to drede,That Lachesse in continuanceFortune mihte such a chance,Which noman after scholde amende.’1107Lo, thus this ladi compleignende190P. ii. 8A lettre unto hire lord hath write,And preyde him that he wolde witeAnd thenke hou that sche was al his,And that he tarie noght in this,Bot that he wolde his love aquite,To hire ayeinward and noght wryte,Bot come himself in alle haste,That he non other paper waste;So that he kepe and holde his trowtheWithoute lette of eny Slowthe.200Unto hire lord and love liegeTo Troie, wher the grete SiegeWas leid, this lettre was conveied.And he, which wisdom hath pourveiedOf al that to reson belongeth,1108With gentil herte it underfongeth:And whan he hath it overrad,In part he was riht inly glad,1109And ek in part he was desesed:Bot love his herte hath so thorghsesed210With pure ymaginacioun,That for non occupaciounWhich he can take on other side,He mai noght flitt his herte aside1110Fro that his wif him hadde enformed;1111Wherof he hath himself conformedWith al the wille of his corageTo schape and take the viageHomward, what time that he mai:So that him thenketh of a day220P. ii. 9A thousand yer, til he mai seThe visage of Penolope,Which he desireth most of alle.And whan the time is so befalleThat Troie wasdestruid and brent,He made non delaiement,1112Bot goth him home in alle hihe,Wher that he fond tofore his yheHis worthi wif in good astat:And thus was cessed the debat230Of love, and Slowthe was excused,Which doth gret harm, where it is used,And hindreth many a cause honeste.[Grosteste.]For of the grete Clerc Grossteste1113Nota adhuc super eodem de quodam Astrologo, qui quoddam opus ingeniosum quasi ad complementum septennio perducens, vnius momenti tardacione omnem sui operis diligenciam penitus frustrauit.I rede how besy that he wasUpon clergie an Hed of brasTo forge, and make it forto telleOf suche thinges as befelle.And sevene yeres besinesseHe leyde, bot for the lachesse240Of half a Minut of an houre,Fro ferst that he began laboure1114He loste all that he hadde do.And otherwhile it fareth so,In loves cause who is slow,That he withoute under the wowBe nyhte stant fulofte acold,Which mihte, if that he hadde woldHis time kept, have be withinne.[The Foolish Virgins.]Bot Slowthe mai no profit winne,250P. ii. 10Bot he mai singe in his karoleNota adhuc contra tardacionem de v. virginibus fatuis, que nimiam moram facientes intrante sponso ad nupcias cum ipso non introierunt.How Latewar cam to the Dole,Wher he no good receive mihte.And that was proved wel be nyhte1115Whilom of the Maidenes fyve,1116Whan thilke lord cam forto wyve:For that here oyle was aweieTo lihte here lampes in his weie,Here Slowthe broghte it so aboute,Fro him that thei ben schet withoute.260Confessor.Wherof, my Sone, be thou war,1117Als ferforth as I telle dar.For love moste ben awaited:1118And if thou be noght wel affaitedIn love to eschuie Slowthe,Mi Sone, forto telle trowthe,Thou miht noght of thiself ben ableTo winne love or make it stable,All thogh thou mihtest love achieve.Confessio AmantisMi fader, that I mai wel lieve.270Bot me was nevere assigned place,Wher yit to geten eny grace,Ne me was non such time apointed;For thanne I wolde I were unjoyntedOf every lime that I have,If I ne scholde kepe and save1119Min houre bothe and ek my stede,1120If my ladi it hadde bede.Bot sche is otherwise avisedThan grante such a time assised;280P. ii. 11And natheles of mi lachesseTher hath be no defalte I gesseOf time lost, if that I mihte:1121Bot yit hire liketh noght alyhte[Lachesse.]Upon no lure which I caste;For ay the more I crie faste,The lasse hire liketh forto hiere.So forto speke of this matiere,I seche that I mai noght finde,I haste and evere I am behinde,290And wot noght what it mai amounte.Bot, fader, upon myn acompte,Which ye be sett to examineOf Schrifte after the discipline,Sey what your beste conseil is.Confessor.Mi Sone, my conseil is this:1122Hou so it stonde of time go,1123Do forth thi besinesse so,That no Lachesce in the be founde:For Slowthe is mihti to confounde300The spied of every mannes werk.For many a vice, as seith the clerk,Ther hongen upon Slowthes lappeOf suche as make a man mishappe,To pleigne and telle of hadde I wist.And therupon if that thee listTo knowe of Slowthes cause more,In special yit overmoreTher is a vice full grevableTo him which is therof coupable,1124310P. ii. 12And stant of alle vertu bare,Hierafter as I schal declare.[ii.Pusillanimity.]ii.Qui nichil attemptat, nichil expedit, oreque mutoMunus Amicicie vir sibi raro capit.Est modus in verbis, set ei qui parcit amori1125Verba referre sua, non fauet vllus amor.1126Touchende of Slowthe in his degre,Ther is yit Pusillamite,Which is to seie in this langage,Hic loquitur Confessor de quadam specie Accidie, que pusillanimitas dicta est, cuius ymaginatiua formido neque virtutes aggredi neque vicia fugere audet; sicque vtriusque vite, tam actiue quam contemplatiue, premium non attingit.He that hath litel of corageAnd dar no mannes werk beginne:So mai he noght be resoun winne;For who that noght dar undertake,Be riht he schal no profit take.320Bot of this vice the natureDar nothing sette in aventure,Him lacketh bothe word and dede,Wherof he scholde his cause spede:He woll no manhed understonde,For evere he hath drede upon honde:Al is peril that he schal seie,Him thenkth the wolf is in the weie,1127And of ymaginaciounHe makth his excusacioun330And feigneth cause of pure drede,And evere he faileth ate nede,Til al be spilt that he with deleth.He hath the sor which noman heleth,The which is cleped lack of herte;Thogh every grace aboute him sterte,P. ii. 13He wol noght ones stere his fot;So that be resoun lese he mot,That wol noght auntre forto winne.Confessor.And so forth, Sone, if we beginne340To speke of love and his servise,Ther ben truantz in such a wise,1128That lacken herte, whan best wereTo speke of love, and riht for fereThei wexen doumb and dar noght telle,Withoute soun as doth the belle,Which hath no claper forto chyme;And riht so thei as for the tymeBen herteles withoute specheOf love, and dar nothing beseche;350And thus thei lese and winne noght.Forthi, my Sone, if thou art oghtCoupable as touchende of this Slowthe,Schrif thee therof and tell me trowthe.Amans.Mi fader, I am al beknoweThat I have ben on of tho slowe,1129As forto telle in loves cas.Min herte is yit and evere was,As thogh the world scholde al tobreke,1130So ferful, that I dar noght speke360Of what pourpos that I have nome,Whan I toward mi ladi come,Bot let it passe and overgo.1131Confessor.Mi Sone, do nomore so:For after that a man poursuiethTo love, so fortune suieth,P. ii. 14Fulofte and yifth hire happi chanceTo him which makth continuanceTo preie love and to beseche;As be ensample I schal thee teche.370[Pygmaleon and the Statue.]I finde hou whilom ther was on,Whos name was Pymaleon,1132Which was a lusti man of yowthe:Hic in amoris causa loquitur contra pusillanimes, et dicit quod Amans pre timore verbis obmutescere non debet, set continuando preces sui amoris expedicionem tucius prosequatur. Et ponit Confessor exemplum, qualiter Pigmaleon, pro eo quod preces continuauit, quandam ymaginem eburneam, cuius pulcritudinis concupiscencia illaqueatus extitit, in carnem et sanguinem ad latus suum transformatam senciit.The werkes of entaile he cowtheAbove alle othre men as tho;And thurgh fortune it fell him so,As he whom love schal travaile,He made an ymage of entaileLich to a womman in semblanceOf feture and of contienance,380So fair yit nevere was figure.Riht as a lyves creatureSche semeth, for of yvor whytHe hath hire wroght of such delit,1133That sche was rody on the chekeAnd red on bothe hire lippes eke;Wherof that he himself beguileth.For with a goodly lok sche smyleth,So that thurgh pure impressionOf his ymaginacion390With al the herte of his corageHis love upon this faire ymageHe sette, and hire of love preide;Bot sche no word ayeinward seide.The longe day, what thing he dede,This ymage in the same stedeP. ii. 15Was evere bi, that ate meteHe wolde hire serve and preide hire ete,And putte unto hire mowth the cuppe;And whan the bord was taken uppe,400He hath hire into chambre nome,1134And after, whan the nyht was come,He leide hire in his bed al nakid.1135He was forwept, he was forwakid,He keste hire colde lippes ofte,And wissheth that thei weren softe,And ofte he rouneth in hire Ere,And ofte his arm now hier now thereHe leide, as he hir wolde embrace,And evere among he axeth grace,410As thogh sche wiste what he mente:1136And thus himself he gan tormenteWith such desese of loves peine,That noman mihte him more peine.Bot how it were, of his penanceHe made such continuanceFro dai to nyht, and preith so longe,That his preiere is underfonge,Which Venus of hire grace herde;Be nyhte and whan that he worst ferde,420And it lay in his nakede arm,The colde ymage he fieleth warmOf fleissh and bon and full of lif.Lo, thus he wan a lusti wif,Which obeissant was at his wille;And if he wolde have holde him stilleP. ii. 16And nothing spoke, he scholde have failed:Bot for he hath his word travailedAnd dorste speke, his love he spedde,And hadde al that he wolde abedde.430For er thei wente thanne atwo,A knave child betwen hem twoThei gete, which was after hotePaphus, of whom yit hath the noteA certein yle, which PaphosMen clepe, and of his name it ros.Confessor.Be this ensample thou miht findeThat word mai worche above kinde.Forthi, my Sone, if that thou spareTo speke, lost is al thi fare,440For Slowthe bringth in alle wo.And over this to loke also,The god of love is favorableTo hem that ben of love stable,And many a wonder hath befalle:Wherof to speke amonges alle,If that thee list to taken hede,Therof a solein tale I rede,Which I schal telle in remembraunceUpon the sort of loves chaunce.450[Tale of Iphis.]The king Ligdus upon a strifSpak unto Thelacuse his wif,Which thanne was with childe grete;1137He swor it scholde noght be lete,Hic ponit exemplum super eodem, qualiter Rex Ligdus vxori sue Thelacuse pregnanti minabatur, quod si filiam pareret, infans occideretur: que tamen postea cum filiam ediderat, Isis1138dea partus tunc presens filiam nomine filii Yphim appellari ipsamque more masculi educari admonuit: quam pater filium credens, ipsam in maritagium filie cuiusdam principis etate solita copulauit. Set cum Yphis debitum sue coniugi vnde soluere non habuit, deos in sui adiutorium interpellabat; qui super hoc miserti femininum genus in masculinum ob affectum nature in Yphe per omnia transmutarunt.That if sche have a dowhter bore,That it ne scholde be forloreP. ii. 17And slain, wherof sche sory was.So it befell upon this cas,Whan sche delivered scholde be,Isis be nyhte in privete,460Which of childinge is the goddesse,Cam forto helpe in that destresse,Til that this lady was al smal,And hadde a dowhter forth withal;Which the goddesse in alle weieBad kepe, and that thei scholden seieIt were a Sone: and thus IphisThei namede him, and upon thisThe fader was mad so to wene.And thus in chambre with the qweene1139470This Iphis was forthdrawe tho,And clothed and arraied soRiht as a kinges Sone scholde.Til after, as fortune it wolde,Whan it was of a ten yer age,Him was betake in mariageA Duckes dowhter forto wedde,Which Iante hihte, and ofte abeddeThese children leien, sche and sche,1140Whiche of on age bothe be.480So that withinne time of yeeres,1141Togedre as thei ben pleiefieres,Liggende abedde upon a nyht,Nature, which doth every wihtUpon hire lawe forto muse,Constreigneth hem, so that thei useP. ii. 18Thing which to hem was al unknowe;Wherof Cupide thilke throweTok pite for the grete love,And let do sette kinde above,490So that hir lawe mai ben used,And thei upon here lust excused.For love hateth nothing moreThan thing which stant ayein the loreOf that nature in kinde hath sett:Forthi Cupide hath so besettHis grace upon this aventure,1142That heacordant to nature,1143Whan that he syh the time best,1144That ech of hem hath other kest,500Transformeth Iphe into a man,Wherof the kinde love he wanOf lusti yonge Iante his wif;And tho thei ladde a merie lif,Which was to kinde non offence.Confessor.And thus to take an evidence,It semeth love is welwillendeTo hem that ben continuendeWith besy herte to poursuieThing which that is to love due.510Wherof, my Sone, in this matiereThou miht ensample taken hiere,That with thi grete besinesseThou miht atteigne the richesse1145Of love, if that ther be no Slowthe.1146Amans.I dar wel seie be mi trowthe,P. ii. 19Als fer as I my witt can seche,1147Mi fader, as for lacke of speche,Bot so as I me schrof tofore,Ther is non other time lore,520Wherof ther mihte ben obstacle1148To lette love of his miracle,Which I beseche day and nyht.Bot, fader, so as it is rihtIn forme of schrifte to beknoweWhat thing belongeth to the slowe,Your faderhode I wolde preie,If ther be forthere eny weieTouchende unto this ilke vice.Confessor.Mi Sone, ye, of this office530Ther serveth on in special,Which lost hath his memorial,So that he can no wit withholdeIn thing which he to kepe is holde,Wherof fulofte himself he grieveth:1149And who that most upon him lieveth,Whan that hise wittes ben so weyved,He mai full lihtly be deceived.
[Sloth.]P. ii. 1i.Dicunt accidiam fore nutricem viciorum,Torpet et in cunctis tarda que lenta bonis:Que fieri possent hodie transfert piger in cras,Furatoque prius ostia claudit equo.Poscenti tardo negat emolumenta Cupido,Set Venus in celeri ludit amore viri.1091
[Sloth.]
P. ii. 1
i.Dicunt accidiam fore nutricem viciorum,
Torpet et in cunctis tarda que lenta bonis:
Que fieri possent hodie transfert piger in cras,
Furatoque prius ostia claudit equo.
Poscenti tardo negat emolumenta Cupido,
Set Venus in celeri ludit amore viri.1091
[i.Lachesse.]Upon the vices to procedeAfter the cause of mannes dede,The ferste point of Slowthe I calleHic in quarto libro loquitur Confessor de speciebus Accidie, quarum primam Tardacionem vocat, cuius condicionem pertractans Amanti super hoc consequenter opponit.Lachesce, and is the chief of alle,And hath this propreliche of kinde,To leven alle thing behinde.Of that he mihte do now hierHe tarieth al the longe yer,And everemore he seith, ‘Tomorwe’;And so he wol his time borwe,10P. ii. 2And wissheth after ‘God me sende,’That whan he weneth have an ende,1092Thanne is he ferthest to beginne.Thus bringth he many a meschief inneUnwar, til that he be meschieved,And may noght thanne be relieved.And riht so nowther mor ne lesseIt stant of love and of lachesce:Som time he slowtheth in a dayThat he nevere after gete mai.20Now, Sone, as of this ilke thing,If thou have eny knowleching,That thou to love hast don er this,Tell on.Confessio Amantis.Mi goode fader, yis.As of lachesce I am beknoweThat I mai stonde upon his rowe,As I that am clad of his suite:For whanne I thoghte mi poursuiteTo make, and therto sette a dayTo speke unto the swete May,109330Lachesce bad abide yit,And bar on hond it was no witNe time forto speke as tho.Thus with his tales to and froMi time in tariinge he drowh:Whan ther was time good ynowh,He seide, ‘An other time is bettre;Thou schalt mowe senden hire a lettre,And per cas wryte more pleinThan thou be Mowthe durstest sein.’40P. ii. 3Thus have I lete time slydeFor Slowthe, and kepte noght my tide,So that lachesce with his viceFulofte hath mad my wit so nyce,That what I thoghte speke or do1094With tariinge he hield me so,1095Til whanne I wolde and mihte noght.I not what thing was in my thoght,Or it was drede, or it was schame;Bot evere in ernest and in game50I wot ther is long time passed.Bot yit is noght the love lassed,Which I unto mi ladi have;For thogh my tunge is slowh to craveAt alle time, as I have bede,Min herte stant evere in o stedeAnd axeth besiliche grace,The which I mai noght yit embrace.And god wot that is malgre myn;1096For this I wot riht wel a fin,60Mi grace comth so selde aboute,That is the Slowthe of which I douteMor than of al the remenantWhich is to love appourtenant.And thus as touchende of lachesce,As I have told, I me confesseTo you, mi fader, and besecheThat furthermor ye wol me teche;And if ther be to this matiere1097Som goodly tale forto liere109870P. ii. 4How I mai do lachesce aweie,That ye it wolden telle I preie.Confessor.To wisse thee, my Sone, and rede,Among the tales whiche I rede,An old ensample theruponNow herkne, and I wol tellen on.
[i.Lachesse.]
Upon the vices to procede
After the cause of mannes dede,
The ferste point of Slowthe I calle
Hic in quarto libro loquitur Confessor de speciebus Accidie, quarum primam Tardacionem vocat, cuius condicionem pertractans Amanti super hoc consequenter opponit.
Lachesce, and is the chief of alle,
And hath this propreliche of kinde,
To leven alle thing behinde.
Of that he mihte do now hier
He tarieth al the longe yer,
And everemore he seith, ‘Tomorwe’;
And so he wol his time borwe,10
P. ii. 2
And wissheth after ‘God me sende,’
That whan he weneth have an ende,1092
Thanne is he ferthest to beginne.
Thus bringth he many a meschief inne
Unwar, til that he be meschieved,
And may noght thanne be relieved.
And riht so nowther mor ne lesse
It stant of love and of lachesce:
Som time he slowtheth in a day
That he nevere after gete mai.20
Now, Sone, as of this ilke thing,
If thou have eny knowleching,
That thou to love hast don er this,
Tell on.
Confessio Amantis.
Mi goode fader, yis.
As of lachesce I am beknowe
That I mai stonde upon his rowe,
As I that am clad of his suite:
For whanne I thoghte mi poursuite
To make, and therto sette a day
To speke unto the swete May,109330
Lachesce bad abide yit,
And bar on hond it was no wit
Ne time forto speke as tho.
Thus with his tales to and fro
Mi time in tariinge he drowh:
Whan ther was time good ynowh,
He seide, ‘An other time is bettre;
Thou schalt mowe senden hire a lettre,
And per cas wryte more plein
Than thou be Mowthe durstest sein.’40
P. ii. 3
Thus have I lete time slyde
For Slowthe, and kepte noght my tide,
So that lachesce with his vice
Fulofte hath mad my wit so nyce,
That what I thoghte speke or do1094
With tariinge he hield me so,1095
Til whanne I wolde and mihte noght.
I not what thing was in my thoght,
Or it was drede, or it was schame;
Bot evere in ernest and in game50
I wot ther is long time passed.
Bot yit is noght the love lassed,
Which I unto mi ladi have;
For thogh my tunge is slowh to crave
At alle time, as I have bede,
Min herte stant evere in o stede
And axeth besiliche grace,
The which I mai noght yit embrace.
And god wot that is malgre myn;1096
For this I wot riht wel a fin,60
Mi grace comth so selde aboute,
That is the Slowthe of which I doute
Mor than of al the remenant
Which is to love appourtenant.
And thus as touchende of lachesce,
As I have told, I me confesse
To you, mi fader, and beseche
That furthermor ye wol me teche;
And if ther be to this matiere1097
Som goodly tale forto liere109870
P. ii. 4
How I mai do lachesce aweie,
That ye it wolden telle I preie.
Confessor.
To wisse thee, my Sone, and rede,
Among the tales whiche I rede,
An old ensample therupon
Now herkne, and I wol tellen on.
[Eneas and Dido.]Ayein Lachesce in loves casI finde how whilom Eneas,Whom Anchises to Sone hadde,Hic ponit Confessor exemplum contra istos qui in amoris causa tardantes delinquunt. Et narrat qualiter Dido Regina Cartaginis Eneam ab incendiis Troie fugitiuum in amorem suum gauisa suscepit: qui cum postea in partes Ytalie a Cartagine bellaturum se transtulit, nimiamque ibidem moram faciens tempus reditus sui ad Didonem vltra modum tardauit, ipsa intollerabili dolore concussa sui cordis intima mortali gladio transfodit.With gret navie, which he ladde80Fro Troie, aryveth at Cartage,Wher for a while his herbergageHe tok: and it betidde so,With hire which was qweene tho1099Of the Cite his aqueintanceHe wan, whos name in remembranceIs yit, and Dido sche was hote;Which loveth Eneas so hoteUpon the wordes whiche he seide,That al hire herte on him sche leide90And dede al holi what he wolde.Bot after that, as it be scholde,Fro thenne he goth toward YtaileBe Schipe, and there his arivaileHath take, and schop him forto ryde.Bot sche, which mai noght longe abideThe hote peine of loves throwe,Anon withinne a litel throweA lettre unto hir kniht hath write,And dede him pleinly forto wite,100P. ii. 5If he made eny tariinge,To drecche of his ayeincomynge,That sche ne mihte him fiele and se,Sche scholde stonde in such degreAs whilom stod a Swan tofore,Of that sche hadde hire make lore;For sorwe a fethere into hire brainShe schof and hath hireselve slain;As king Menander in a lay1100The sothe hath founde, wher sche lay110Sprantlende with hire wynges tweie,1101As sche which scholde thanne deieFor love of him which was hire make.‘And so schal I do for thi sake,’This qweene seide, ‘wel I wot.’Lo, to Enee thus sche wrotWith many an other word of pleinte:Bot he, which hadde hise thoghtes feinteTowardes love and full of Slowthe,His time lette, and that was rowthe:120For sche, which loveth him tofore,Desireth evere more and more,And whan sche sih him tarie so,Hire herte was so full of wo,That compleignende manyfoldSche hath hire oghne tale told,Unto hirself and thus sche spak:‘Ha, who fond evere such a lakOf Slowthe in eny worthi kniht?Now wot I wel my deth is diht130P. ii. 6Thurgh him which scholde have be mi lif.’Bot forto stinten al this strif,Thus whan sche sih non other bote,Riht evene unto hire herte roteA naked swerd anon sche threste,And thus sche gat hireselve resteIn remembrance of alle slowe.Confessor.Wherof, my Sone, thou miht knowe1102How tariinge upon the nedeIn loves cause is forto drede;140And that hath Dido sore aboght,Whos deth schal evere be bethoght.And overmore if I schal seche1103In this matiere an other spieche,In a Cronique I finde writeA tale which is good to wite.
[Eneas and Dido.]
Ayein Lachesce in loves cas
I finde how whilom Eneas,
Whom Anchises to Sone hadde,
Hic ponit Confessor exemplum contra istos qui in amoris causa tardantes delinquunt. Et narrat qualiter Dido Regina Cartaginis Eneam ab incendiis Troie fugitiuum in amorem suum gauisa suscepit: qui cum postea in partes Ytalie a Cartagine bellaturum se transtulit, nimiamque ibidem moram faciens tempus reditus sui ad Didonem vltra modum tardauit, ipsa intollerabili dolore concussa sui cordis intima mortali gladio transfodit.
With gret navie, which he ladde80
Fro Troie, aryveth at Cartage,
Wher for a while his herbergage
He tok: and it betidde so,
With hire which was qweene tho1099
Of the Cite his aqueintance
He wan, whos name in remembrance
Is yit, and Dido sche was hote;
Which loveth Eneas so hote
Upon the wordes whiche he seide,
That al hire herte on him sche leide90
And dede al holi what he wolde.
Bot after that, as it be scholde,
Fro thenne he goth toward Ytaile
Be Schipe, and there his arivaile
Hath take, and schop him forto ryde.
Bot sche, which mai noght longe abide
The hote peine of loves throwe,
Anon withinne a litel throwe
A lettre unto hir kniht hath write,
And dede him pleinly forto wite,100
P. ii. 5
If he made eny tariinge,
To drecche of his ayeincomynge,
That sche ne mihte him fiele and se,
Sche scholde stonde in such degre
As whilom stod a Swan tofore,
Of that sche hadde hire make lore;
For sorwe a fethere into hire brain
She schof and hath hireselve slain;
As king Menander in a lay1100
The sothe hath founde, wher sche lay110
Sprantlende with hire wynges tweie,1101
As sche which scholde thanne deie
For love of him which was hire make.
‘And so schal I do for thi sake,’
This qweene seide, ‘wel I wot.’
Lo, to Enee thus sche wrot
With many an other word of pleinte:
Bot he, which hadde hise thoghtes feinte
Towardes love and full of Slowthe,
His time lette, and that was rowthe:120
For sche, which loveth him tofore,
Desireth evere more and more,
And whan sche sih him tarie so,
Hire herte was so full of wo,
That compleignende manyfold
Sche hath hire oghne tale told,
Unto hirself and thus sche spak:
‘Ha, who fond evere such a lak
Of Slowthe in eny worthi kniht?
Now wot I wel my deth is diht130
P. ii. 6
Thurgh him which scholde have be mi lif.’
Bot forto stinten al this strif,
Thus whan sche sih non other bote,
Riht evene unto hire herte rote
A naked swerd anon sche threste,
And thus sche gat hireselve reste
In remembrance of alle slowe.
Confessor.
Wherof, my Sone, thou miht knowe1102
How tariinge upon the nede
In loves cause is forto drede;140
And that hath Dido sore aboght,
Whos deth schal evere be bethoght.
And overmore if I schal seche1103
In this matiere an other spieche,
In a Cronique I finde write
A tale which is good to wite.
[Ulysses and Penelope.]At Troie whan king UlixesUpon the Siege among the presOf hem that worthi knihtes wereAbod long time stille there,150Hic loquitur super eodem qualiter Penolope Vlixem maritum suum, in obsidione Troie diucius morantem, ob ipsius ibidem tardacionem Epistola sua redarguit.In thilke time a man mai seHow goodli that Penolope,Which was to him his trewe wif,Of his lachesce was pleintif;Wherof to Troie sche him sendeHire will be lettre, thus spekende:‘Mi worthi love and lord also,It is and hath ben evere so,That wher a womman is al one,It makth a man in his persone160P. ii. 7The more hardi forto wowe,In hope that sche wolde boweTo such thing as his wille were,Whil that hire lord were elleswhere.And of miself I telle this;For it so longe passed is,Sithe ferst than ye fro home wente,That welnyh every man his wente1104To there I am, whil ye ben oute,Hath mad, and ech of hem aboute,1105170Which love can, my love secheth,With gret preiere and me besecheth:And some maken gret manace,That if thei mihten come in place,Wher that thei mihte here wille have,Ther is nothing me scholde save,That thei ne wolde werche thinges;And some tellen me tidyngesThat ye ben ded, and some seinThat certeinly ye ben besein180To love a newe and leve me.Bot hou as evere that it be,I thonke unto the goddes alle,As yit for oght that is befalle1106Mai noman do my chekes rede:Bot natheles it is to drede,That Lachesse in continuanceFortune mihte such a chance,Which noman after scholde amende.’1107Lo, thus this ladi compleignende190P. ii. 8A lettre unto hire lord hath write,And preyde him that he wolde witeAnd thenke hou that sche was al his,And that he tarie noght in this,Bot that he wolde his love aquite,To hire ayeinward and noght wryte,Bot come himself in alle haste,That he non other paper waste;So that he kepe and holde his trowtheWithoute lette of eny Slowthe.200Unto hire lord and love liegeTo Troie, wher the grete SiegeWas leid, this lettre was conveied.And he, which wisdom hath pourveiedOf al that to reson belongeth,1108With gentil herte it underfongeth:And whan he hath it overrad,In part he was riht inly glad,1109And ek in part he was desesed:Bot love his herte hath so thorghsesed210With pure ymaginacioun,That for non occupaciounWhich he can take on other side,He mai noght flitt his herte aside1110Fro that his wif him hadde enformed;1111Wherof he hath himself conformedWith al the wille of his corageTo schape and take the viageHomward, what time that he mai:So that him thenketh of a day220P. ii. 9A thousand yer, til he mai seThe visage of Penolope,Which he desireth most of alle.And whan the time is so befalleThat Troie wasdestruid and brent,He made non delaiement,1112Bot goth him home in alle hihe,Wher that he fond tofore his yheHis worthi wif in good astat:And thus was cessed the debat230Of love, and Slowthe was excused,Which doth gret harm, where it is used,And hindreth many a cause honeste.[Grosteste.]For of the grete Clerc Grossteste1113Nota adhuc super eodem de quodam Astrologo, qui quoddam opus ingeniosum quasi ad complementum septennio perducens, vnius momenti tardacione omnem sui operis diligenciam penitus frustrauit.I rede how besy that he wasUpon clergie an Hed of brasTo forge, and make it forto telleOf suche thinges as befelle.And sevene yeres besinesseHe leyde, bot for the lachesse240Of half a Minut of an houre,Fro ferst that he began laboure1114He loste all that he hadde do.And otherwhile it fareth so,In loves cause who is slow,That he withoute under the wowBe nyhte stant fulofte acold,Which mihte, if that he hadde woldHis time kept, have be withinne.[The Foolish Virgins.]Bot Slowthe mai no profit winne,250P. ii. 10Bot he mai singe in his karoleNota adhuc contra tardacionem de v. virginibus fatuis, que nimiam moram facientes intrante sponso ad nupcias cum ipso non introierunt.How Latewar cam to the Dole,Wher he no good receive mihte.And that was proved wel be nyhte1115Whilom of the Maidenes fyve,1116Whan thilke lord cam forto wyve:For that here oyle was aweieTo lihte here lampes in his weie,Here Slowthe broghte it so aboute,Fro him that thei ben schet withoute.260Confessor.Wherof, my Sone, be thou war,1117Als ferforth as I telle dar.For love moste ben awaited:1118And if thou be noght wel affaitedIn love to eschuie Slowthe,Mi Sone, forto telle trowthe,Thou miht noght of thiself ben ableTo winne love or make it stable,All thogh thou mihtest love achieve.Confessio AmantisMi fader, that I mai wel lieve.270Bot me was nevere assigned place,Wher yit to geten eny grace,Ne me was non such time apointed;For thanne I wolde I were unjoyntedOf every lime that I have,If I ne scholde kepe and save1119Min houre bothe and ek my stede,1120If my ladi it hadde bede.Bot sche is otherwise avisedThan grante such a time assised;280P. ii. 11And natheles of mi lachesseTher hath be no defalte I gesseOf time lost, if that I mihte:1121Bot yit hire liketh noght alyhte[Lachesse.]Upon no lure which I caste;For ay the more I crie faste,The lasse hire liketh forto hiere.So forto speke of this matiere,I seche that I mai noght finde,I haste and evere I am behinde,290And wot noght what it mai amounte.Bot, fader, upon myn acompte,Which ye be sett to examineOf Schrifte after the discipline,Sey what your beste conseil is.Confessor.Mi Sone, my conseil is this:1122Hou so it stonde of time go,1123Do forth thi besinesse so,That no Lachesce in the be founde:For Slowthe is mihti to confounde300The spied of every mannes werk.For many a vice, as seith the clerk,Ther hongen upon Slowthes lappeOf suche as make a man mishappe,To pleigne and telle of hadde I wist.And therupon if that thee listTo knowe of Slowthes cause more,In special yit overmoreTher is a vice full grevableTo him which is therof coupable,1124310P. ii. 12And stant of alle vertu bare,Hierafter as I schal declare.
[Ulysses and Penelope.]
At Troie whan king Ulixes
Upon the Siege among the pres
Of hem that worthi knihtes were
Abod long time stille there,150
Hic loquitur super eodem qualiter Penolope Vlixem maritum suum, in obsidione Troie diucius morantem, ob ipsius ibidem tardacionem Epistola sua redarguit.
In thilke time a man mai se
How goodli that Penolope,
Which was to him his trewe wif,
Of his lachesce was pleintif;
Wherof to Troie sche him sende
Hire will be lettre, thus spekende:
‘Mi worthi love and lord also,
It is and hath ben evere so,
That wher a womman is al one,
It makth a man in his persone160
P. ii. 7
The more hardi forto wowe,
In hope that sche wolde bowe
To such thing as his wille were,
Whil that hire lord were elleswhere.
And of miself I telle this;
For it so longe passed is,
Sithe ferst than ye fro home wente,
That welnyh every man his wente1104
To there I am, whil ye ben oute,
Hath mad, and ech of hem aboute,1105170
Which love can, my love secheth,
With gret preiere and me besecheth:
And some maken gret manace,
That if thei mihten come in place,
Wher that thei mihte here wille have,
Ther is nothing me scholde save,
That thei ne wolde werche thinges;
And some tellen me tidynges
That ye ben ded, and some sein
That certeinly ye ben besein180
To love a newe and leve me.
Bot hou as evere that it be,
I thonke unto the goddes alle,
As yit for oght that is befalle1106
Mai noman do my chekes rede:
Bot natheles it is to drede,
That Lachesse in continuance
Fortune mihte such a chance,
Which noman after scholde amende.’1107
Lo, thus this ladi compleignende190
P. ii. 8
A lettre unto hire lord hath write,
And preyde him that he wolde wite
And thenke hou that sche was al his,
And that he tarie noght in this,
Bot that he wolde his love aquite,
To hire ayeinward and noght wryte,
Bot come himself in alle haste,
That he non other paper waste;
So that he kepe and holde his trowthe
Withoute lette of eny Slowthe.200
Unto hire lord and love liege
To Troie, wher the grete Siege
Was leid, this lettre was conveied.
And he, which wisdom hath pourveied
Of al that to reson belongeth,1108
With gentil herte it underfongeth:
And whan he hath it overrad,
In part he was riht inly glad,1109
And ek in part he was desesed:
Bot love his herte hath so thorghsesed210
With pure ymaginacioun,
That for non occupacioun
Which he can take on other side,
He mai noght flitt his herte aside1110
Fro that his wif him hadde enformed;1111
Wherof he hath himself conformed
With al the wille of his corage
To schape and take the viage
Homward, what time that he mai:
So that him thenketh of a day220
P. ii. 9
A thousand yer, til he mai se
The visage of Penolope,
Which he desireth most of alle.
And whan the time is so befalle
That Troie wasdestruid and brent,
He made non delaiement,1112
Bot goth him home in alle hihe,
Wher that he fond tofore his yhe
His worthi wif in good astat:
And thus was cessed the debat230
Of love, and Slowthe was excused,
Which doth gret harm, where it is used,
And hindreth many a cause honeste.
[Grosteste.]
For of the grete Clerc Grossteste1113
Nota adhuc super eodem de quodam Astrologo, qui quoddam opus ingeniosum quasi ad complementum septennio perducens, vnius momenti tardacione omnem sui operis diligenciam penitus frustrauit.
I rede how besy that he was
Upon clergie an Hed of bras
To forge, and make it forto telle
Of suche thinges as befelle.
And sevene yeres besinesse
He leyde, bot for the lachesse240
Of half a Minut of an houre,
Fro ferst that he began laboure1114
He loste all that he hadde do.
And otherwhile it fareth so,
In loves cause who is slow,
That he withoute under the wow
Be nyhte stant fulofte acold,
Which mihte, if that he hadde wold
His time kept, have be withinne.
[The Foolish Virgins.]
Bot Slowthe mai no profit winne,250
P. ii. 10
Bot he mai singe in his karole
Nota adhuc contra tardacionem de v. virginibus fatuis, que nimiam moram facientes intrante sponso ad nupcias cum ipso non introierunt.
How Latewar cam to the Dole,
Wher he no good receive mihte.
And that was proved wel be nyhte1115
Whilom of the Maidenes fyve,1116
Whan thilke lord cam forto wyve:
For that here oyle was aweie
To lihte here lampes in his weie,
Here Slowthe broghte it so aboute,
Fro him that thei ben schet withoute.260
Confessor.
Wherof, my Sone, be thou war,1117
Als ferforth as I telle dar.
For love moste ben awaited:1118
And if thou be noght wel affaited
In love to eschuie Slowthe,
Mi Sone, forto telle trowthe,
Thou miht noght of thiself ben able
To winne love or make it stable,
All thogh thou mihtest love achieve.
Confessio Amantis
Mi fader, that I mai wel lieve.270
Bot me was nevere assigned place,
Wher yit to geten eny grace,
Ne me was non such time apointed;
For thanne I wolde I were unjoynted
Of every lime that I have,
If I ne scholde kepe and save1119
Min houre bothe and ek my stede,1120
If my ladi it hadde bede.
Bot sche is otherwise avised
Than grante such a time assised;280
P. ii. 11
And natheles of mi lachesse
Ther hath be no defalte I gesse
Of time lost, if that I mihte:1121
Bot yit hire liketh noght alyhte
[Lachesse.]
Upon no lure which I caste;
For ay the more I crie faste,
The lasse hire liketh forto hiere.
So forto speke of this matiere,
I seche that I mai noght finde,
I haste and evere I am behinde,290
And wot noght what it mai amounte.
Bot, fader, upon myn acompte,
Which ye be sett to examine
Of Schrifte after the discipline,
Sey what your beste conseil is.
Confessor.
Mi Sone, my conseil is this:1122
Hou so it stonde of time go,1123
Do forth thi besinesse so,
That no Lachesce in the be founde:
For Slowthe is mihti to confounde300
The spied of every mannes werk.
For many a vice, as seith the clerk,
Ther hongen upon Slowthes lappe
Of suche as make a man mishappe,
To pleigne and telle of hadde I wist.
And therupon if that thee list
To knowe of Slowthes cause more,
In special yit overmore
Ther is a vice full grevable
To him which is therof coupable,1124310
P. ii. 12
And stant of alle vertu bare,
Hierafter as I schal declare.
[ii.Pusillanimity.]ii.Qui nichil attemptat, nichil expedit, oreque mutoMunus Amicicie vir sibi raro capit.Est modus in verbis, set ei qui parcit amori1125Verba referre sua, non fauet vllus amor.1126
[ii.Pusillanimity.]
ii.Qui nichil attemptat, nichil expedit, oreque muto
Munus Amicicie vir sibi raro capit.
Est modus in verbis, set ei qui parcit amori1125
Verba referre sua, non fauet vllus amor.1126
Touchende of Slowthe in his degre,Ther is yit Pusillamite,Which is to seie in this langage,Hic loquitur Confessor de quadam specie Accidie, que pusillanimitas dicta est, cuius ymaginatiua formido neque virtutes aggredi neque vicia fugere audet; sicque vtriusque vite, tam actiue quam contemplatiue, premium non attingit.He that hath litel of corageAnd dar no mannes werk beginne:So mai he noght be resoun winne;For who that noght dar undertake,Be riht he schal no profit take.320Bot of this vice the natureDar nothing sette in aventure,Him lacketh bothe word and dede,Wherof he scholde his cause spede:He woll no manhed understonde,For evere he hath drede upon honde:Al is peril that he schal seie,Him thenkth the wolf is in the weie,1127And of ymaginaciounHe makth his excusacioun330And feigneth cause of pure drede,And evere he faileth ate nede,Til al be spilt that he with deleth.He hath the sor which noman heleth,The which is cleped lack of herte;Thogh every grace aboute him sterte,P. ii. 13He wol noght ones stere his fot;So that be resoun lese he mot,That wol noght auntre forto winne.Confessor.And so forth, Sone, if we beginne340To speke of love and his servise,Ther ben truantz in such a wise,1128That lacken herte, whan best wereTo speke of love, and riht for fereThei wexen doumb and dar noght telle,Withoute soun as doth the belle,Which hath no claper forto chyme;And riht so thei as for the tymeBen herteles withoute specheOf love, and dar nothing beseche;350And thus thei lese and winne noght.Forthi, my Sone, if thou art oghtCoupable as touchende of this Slowthe,Schrif thee therof and tell me trowthe.Amans.Mi fader, I am al beknoweThat I have ben on of tho slowe,1129As forto telle in loves cas.Min herte is yit and evere was,As thogh the world scholde al tobreke,1130So ferful, that I dar noght speke360Of what pourpos that I have nome,Whan I toward mi ladi come,Bot let it passe and overgo.1131Confessor.Mi Sone, do nomore so:For after that a man poursuiethTo love, so fortune suieth,P. ii. 14Fulofte and yifth hire happi chanceTo him which makth continuanceTo preie love and to beseche;As be ensample I schal thee teche.370
Touchende of Slowthe in his degre,
Ther is yit Pusillamite,
Which is to seie in this langage,
Hic loquitur Confessor de quadam specie Accidie, que pusillanimitas dicta est, cuius ymaginatiua formido neque virtutes aggredi neque vicia fugere audet; sicque vtriusque vite, tam actiue quam contemplatiue, premium non attingit.
He that hath litel of corage
And dar no mannes werk beginne:
So mai he noght be resoun winne;
For who that noght dar undertake,
Be riht he schal no profit take.320
Bot of this vice the nature
Dar nothing sette in aventure,
Him lacketh bothe word and dede,
Wherof he scholde his cause spede:
He woll no manhed understonde,
For evere he hath drede upon honde:
Al is peril that he schal seie,
Him thenkth the wolf is in the weie,1127
And of ymaginacioun
He makth his excusacioun330
And feigneth cause of pure drede,
And evere he faileth ate nede,
Til al be spilt that he with deleth.
He hath the sor which noman heleth,
The which is cleped lack of herte;
Thogh every grace aboute him sterte,
P. ii. 13
He wol noght ones stere his fot;
So that be resoun lese he mot,
That wol noght auntre forto winne.
Confessor.
And so forth, Sone, if we beginne340
To speke of love and his servise,
Ther ben truantz in such a wise,1128
That lacken herte, whan best were
To speke of love, and riht for fere
Thei wexen doumb and dar noght telle,
Withoute soun as doth the belle,
Which hath no claper forto chyme;
And riht so thei as for the tyme
Ben herteles withoute speche
Of love, and dar nothing beseche;350
And thus thei lese and winne noght.
Forthi, my Sone, if thou art oght
Coupable as touchende of this Slowthe,
Schrif thee therof and tell me trowthe.
Amans.
Mi fader, I am al beknowe
That I have ben on of tho slowe,1129
As forto telle in loves cas.
Min herte is yit and evere was,
As thogh the world scholde al tobreke,1130
So ferful, that I dar noght speke360
Of what pourpos that I have nome,
Whan I toward mi ladi come,
Bot let it passe and overgo.1131
Confessor.
Mi Sone, do nomore so:
For after that a man poursuieth
To love, so fortune suieth,
P. ii. 14
Fulofte and yifth hire happi chance
To him which makth continuance
To preie love and to beseche;
As be ensample I schal thee teche.370
[Pygmaleon and the Statue.]I finde hou whilom ther was on,Whos name was Pymaleon,1132Which was a lusti man of yowthe:Hic in amoris causa loquitur contra pusillanimes, et dicit quod Amans pre timore verbis obmutescere non debet, set continuando preces sui amoris expedicionem tucius prosequatur. Et ponit Confessor exemplum, qualiter Pigmaleon, pro eo quod preces continuauit, quandam ymaginem eburneam, cuius pulcritudinis concupiscencia illaqueatus extitit, in carnem et sanguinem ad latus suum transformatam senciit.The werkes of entaile he cowtheAbove alle othre men as tho;And thurgh fortune it fell him so,As he whom love schal travaile,He made an ymage of entaileLich to a womman in semblanceOf feture and of contienance,380So fair yit nevere was figure.Riht as a lyves creatureSche semeth, for of yvor whytHe hath hire wroght of such delit,1133That sche was rody on the chekeAnd red on bothe hire lippes eke;Wherof that he himself beguileth.For with a goodly lok sche smyleth,So that thurgh pure impressionOf his ymaginacion390With al the herte of his corageHis love upon this faire ymageHe sette, and hire of love preide;Bot sche no word ayeinward seide.The longe day, what thing he dede,This ymage in the same stedeP. ii. 15Was evere bi, that ate meteHe wolde hire serve and preide hire ete,And putte unto hire mowth the cuppe;And whan the bord was taken uppe,400He hath hire into chambre nome,1134And after, whan the nyht was come,He leide hire in his bed al nakid.1135He was forwept, he was forwakid,He keste hire colde lippes ofte,And wissheth that thei weren softe,And ofte he rouneth in hire Ere,And ofte his arm now hier now thereHe leide, as he hir wolde embrace,And evere among he axeth grace,410As thogh sche wiste what he mente:1136And thus himself he gan tormenteWith such desese of loves peine,That noman mihte him more peine.Bot how it were, of his penanceHe made such continuanceFro dai to nyht, and preith so longe,That his preiere is underfonge,Which Venus of hire grace herde;Be nyhte and whan that he worst ferde,420And it lay in his nakede arm,The colde ymage he fieleth warmOf fleissh and bon and full of lif.Lo, thus he wan a lusti wif,Which obeissant was at his wille;And if he wolde have holde him stilleP. ii. 16And nothing spoke, he scholde have failed:Bot for he hath his word travailedAnd dorste speke, his love he spedde,And hadde al that he wolde abedde.430For er thei wente thanne atwo,A knave child betwen hem twoThei gete, which was after hotePaphus, of whom yit hath the noteA certein yle, which PaphosMen clepe, and of his name it ros.Confessor.Be this ensample thou miht findeThat word mai worche above kinde.Forthi, my Sone, if that thou spareTo speke, lost is al thi fare,440For Slowthe bringth in alle wo.And over this to loke also,The god of love is favorableTo hem that ben of love stable,And many a wonder hath befalle:Wherof to speke amonges alle,If that thee list to taken hede,Therof a solein tale I rede,Which I schal telle in remembraunceUpon the sort of loves chaunce.450
[Pygmaleon and the Statue.]
I finde hou whilom ther was on,
Whos name was Pymaleon,1132
Which was a lusti man of yowthe:
Hic in amoris causa loquitur contra pusillanimes, et dicit quod Amans pre timore verbis obmutescere non debet, set continuando preces sui amoris expedicionem tucius prosequatur. Et ponit Confessor exemplum, qualiter Pigmaleon, pro eo quod preces continuauit, quandam ymaginem eburneam, cuius pulcritudinis concupiscencia illaqueatus extitit, in carnem et sanguinem ad latus suum transformatam senciit.
The werkes of entaile he cowthe
Above alle othre men as tho;
And thurgh fortune it fell him so,
As he whom love schal travaile,
He made an ymage of entaile
Lich to a womman in semblance
Of feture and of contienance,380
So fair yit nevere was figure.
Riht as a lyves creature
Sche semeth, for of yvor whyt
He hath hire wroght of such delit,1133
That sche was rody on the cheke
And red on bothe hire lippes eke;
Wherof that he himself beguileth.
For with a goodly lok sche smyleth,
So that thurgh pure impression
Of his ymaginacion390
With al the herte of his corage
His love upon this faire ymage
He sette, and hire of love preide;
Bot sche no word ayeinward seide.
The longe day, what thing he dede,
This ymage in the same stede
P. ii. 15
Was evere bi, that ate mete
He wolde hire serve and preide hire ete,
And putte unto hire mowth the cuppe;
And whan the bord was taken uppe,400
He hath hire into chambre nome,1134
And after, whan the nyht was come,
He leide hire in his bed al nakid.1135
He was forwept, he was forwakid,
He keste hire colde lippes ofte,
And wissheth that thei weren softe,
And ofte he rouneth in hire Ere,
And ofte his arm now hier now there
He leide, as he hir wolde embrace,
And evere among he axeth grace,410
As thogh sche wiste what he mente:1136
And thus himself he gan tormente
With such desese of loves peine,
That noman mihte him more peine.
Bot how it were, of his penance
He made such continuance
Fro dai to nyht, and preith so longe,
That his preiere is underfonge,
Which Venus of hire grace herde;
Be nyhte and whan that he worst ferde,420
And it lay in his nakede arm,
The colde ymage he fieleth warm
Of fleissh and bon and full of lif.
Lo, thus he wan a lusti wif,
Which obeissant was at his wille;
And if he wolde have holde him stille
P. ii. 16
And nothing spoke, he scholde have failed:
Bot for he hath his word travailed
And dorste speke, his love he spedde,
And hadde al that he wolde abedde.430
For er thei wente thanne atwo,
A knave child betwen hem two
Thei gete, which was after hote
Paphus, of whom yit hath the note
A certein yle, which Paphos
Men clepe, and of his name it ros.
Confessor.
Be this ensample thou miht finde
That word mai worche above kinde.
Forthi, my Sone, if that thou spare
To speke, lost is al thi fare,440
For Slowthe bringth in alle wo.
And over this to loke also,
The god of love is favorable
To hem that ben of love stable,
And many a wonder hath befalle:
Wherof to speke amonges alle,
If that thee list to taken hede,
Therof a solein tale I rede,
Which I schal telle in remembraunce
Upon the sort of loves chaunce.450
[Tale of Iphis.]The king Ligdus upon a strifSpak unto Thelacuse his wif,Which thanne was with childe grete;1137He swor it scholde noght be lete,Hic ponit exemplum super eodem, qualiter Rex Ligdus vxori sue Thelacuse pregnanti minabatur, quod si filiam pareret, infans occideretur: que tamen postea cum filiam ediderat, Isis1138dea partus tunc presens filiam nomine filii Yphim appellari ipsamque more masculi educari admonuit: quam pater filium credens, ipsam in maritagium filie cuiusdam principis etate solita copulauit. Set cum Yphis debitum sue coniugi vnde soluere non habuit, deos in sui adiutorium interpellabat; qui super hoc miserti femininum genus in masculinum ob affectum nature in Yphe per omnia transmutarunt.That if sche have a dowhter bore,That it ne scholde be forloreP. ii. 17And slain, wherof sche sory was.So it befell upon this cas,Whan sche delivered scholde be,Isis be nyhte in privete,460Which of childinge is the goddesse,Cam forto helpe in that destresse,Til that this lady was al smal,And hadde a dowhter forth withal;Which the goddesse in alle weieBad kepe, and that thei scholden seieIt were a Sone: and thus IphisThei namede him, and upon thisThe fader was mad so to wene.And thus in chambre with the qweene1139470This Iphis was forthdrawe tho,And clothed and arraied soRiht as a kinges Sone scholde.Til after, as fortune it wolde,Whan it was of a ten yer age,Him was betake in mariageA Duckes dowhter forto wedde,Which Iante hihte, and ofte abeddeThese children leien, sche and sche,1140Whiche of on age bothe be.480So that withinne time of yeeres,1141Togedre as thei ben pleiefieres,Liggende abedde upon a nyht,Nature, which doth every wihtUpon hire lawe forto muse,Constreigneth hem, so that thei useP. ii. 18Thing which to hem was al unknowe;Wherof Cupide thilke throweTok pite for the grete love,And let do sette kinde above,490So that hir lawe mai ben used,And thei upon here lust excused.For love hateth nothing moreThan thing which stant ayein the loreOf that nature in kinde hath sett:Forthi Cupide hath so besettHis grace upon this aventure,1142That heacordant to nature,1143Whan that he syh the time best,1144That ech of hem hath other kest,500Transformeth Iphe into a man,Wherof the kinde love he wanOf lusti yonge Iante his wif;And tho thei ladde a merie lif,Which was to kinde non offence.Confessor.And thus to take an evidence,It semeth love is welwillendeTo hem that ben continuendeWith besy herte to poursuieThing which that is to love due.510Wherof, my Sone, in this matiereThou miht ensample taken hiere,That with thi grete besinesseThou miht atteigne the richesse1145Of love, if that ther be no Slowthe.1146Amans.I dar wel seie be mi trowthe,P. ii. 19Als fer as I my witt can seche,1147Mi fader, as for lacke of speche,Bot so as I me schrof tofore,Ther is non other time lore,520Wherof ther mihte ben obstacle1148To lette love of his miracle,Which I beseche day and nyht.Bot, fader, so as it is rihtIn forme of schrifte to beknoweWhat thing belongeth to the slowe,Your faderhode I wolde preie,If ther be forthere eny weieTouchende unto this ilke vice.Confessor.Mi Sone, ye, of this office530Ther serveth on in special,Which lost hath his memorial,So that he can no wit withholdeIn thing which he to kepe is holde,Wherof fulofte himself he grieveth:1149And who that most upon him lieveth,Whan that hise wittes ben so weyved,He mai full lihtly be deceived.
[Tale of Iphis.]
The king Ligdus upon a strif
Spak unto Thelacuse his wif,
Which thanne was with childe grete;1137
He swor it scholde noght be lete,
Hic ponit exemplum super eodem, qualiter Rex Ligdus vxori sue Thelacuse pregnanti minabatur, quod si filiam pareret, infans occideretur: que tamen postea cum filiam ediderat, Isis1138dea partus tunc presens filiam nomine filii Yphim appellari ipsamque more masculi educari admonuit: quam pater filium credens, ipsam in maritagium filie cuiusdam principis etate solita copulauit. Set cum Yphis debitum sue coniugi vnde soluere non habuit, deos in sui adiutorium interpellabat; qui super hoc miserti femininum genus in masculinum ob affectum nature in Yphe per omnia transmutarunt.
That if sche have a dowhter bore,
That it ne scholde be forlore
P. ii. 17
And slain, wherof sche sory was.
So it befell upon this cas,
Whan sche delivered scholde be,
Isis be nyhte in privete,460
Which of childinge is the goddesse,
Cam forto helpe in that destresse,
Til that this lady was al smal,
And hadde a dowhter forth withal;
Which the goddesse in alle weie
Bad kepe, and that thei scholden seie
It were a Sone: and thus Iphis
Thei namede him, and upon this
The fader was mad so to wene.
And thus in chambre with the qweene1139470
This Iphis was forthdrawe tho,
And clothed and arraied so
Riht as a kinges Sone scholde.
Til after, as fortune it wolde,
Whan it was of a ten yer age,
Him was betake in mariage
A Duckes dowhter forto wedde,
Which Iante hihte, and ofte abedde
These children leien, sche and sche,1140
Whiche of on age bothe be.480
So that withinne time of yeeres,1141
Togedre as thei ben pleiefieres,
Liggende abedde upon a nyht,
Nature, which doth every wiht
Upon hire lawe forto muse,
Constreigneth hem, so that thei use
P. ii. 18
Thing which to hem was al unknowe;
Wherof Cupide thilke throwe
Tok pite for the grete love,
And let do sette kinde above,490
So that hir lawe mai ben used,
And thei upon here lust excused.
For love hateth nothing more
Than thing which stant ayein the lore
Of that nature in kinde hath sett:
Forthi Cupide hath so besett
His grace upon this aventure,1142
That heacordant to nature,1143
Whan that he syh the time best,1144
That ech of hem hath other kest,500
Transformeth Iphe into a man,
Wherof the kinde love he wan
Of lusti yonge Iante his wif;
And tho thei ladde a merie lif,
Which was to kinde non offence.
Confessor.
And thus to take an evidence,
It semeth love is welwillende
To hem that ben continuende
With besy herte to poursuie
Thing which that is to love due.510
Wherof, my Sone, in this matiere
Thou miht ensample taken hiere,
That with thi grete besinesse
Thou miht atteigne the richesse1145
Of love, if that ther be no Slowthe.1146
Amans.
I dar wel seie be mi trowthe,
P. ii. 19
Als fer as I my witt can seche,1147
Mi fader, as for lacke of speche,
Bot so as I me schrof tofore,
Ther is non other time lore,520
Wherof ther mihte ben obstacle1148
To lette love of his miracle,
Which I beseche day and nyht.
Bot, fader, so as it is riht
In forme of schrifte to beknowe
What thing belongeth to the slowe,
Your faderhode I wolde preie,
If ther be forthere eny weie
Touchende unto this ilke vice.
Confessor.
Mi Sone, ye, of this office530
Ther serveth on in special,
Which lost hath his memorial,
So that he can no wit withholde
In thing which he to kepe is holde,
Wherof fulofte himself he grieveth:1149
And who that most upon him lieveth,
Whan that hise wittes ben so weyved,
He mai full lihtly be deceived.