[iii.Forgetfulness.]iii.Mentibus oblitus alienis labitur ille,Quem probat accidia non meminisse sui.Sic amor incautus, qui non memoratur ad horas,1150Perdit et offendit, quod cuperare nequit.To serve Accidie in his office,Ther is of Slowthe an other vice,540Which cleped is Foryetelnesse;Hic tractat Confessor de vicio Obliuionis, quam mater eius Accidia ad omnes virtutum memorias necnon et in amoris causa immemorem constituit.1151That noght mai in his herte impresseP. ii. 20Of vertu which reson hath sett,So clene his wittes he foryet.For in the tellinge of his taleNomore his herte thanne his maleHath remembrance of thilke forme,Wherof he scholde his wit enforme1152As thanne, and yit ne wot he why.Thus is his pourpos noght forthi550Forlore of that he wolde bidde,And skarsly if he seith the thriddeTo love of that he hadde ment:Thus many a lovere hath be schent.Tell on therfore, hast thou be oon1153Of hem that Slowthe hath so begon?Confessio Amantis.Ye, fader, ofte it hath be so,That whanne I am mi ladi froAnd thenke untoward hire drawe,Than cast I many a newe lawe1154560And al the world torne up so doun,And so recorde I mi lecounAnd wryte in my memorialWhat I to hire telle schal,Riht al the matiere of mi tale:Bot al nys worth a note schale;For whanne I come ther sche is,I have it al foryete ywiss;Of that I thoghte forto telleI can noght thanne unethes spelle570That I wende altherbest have rad,So sore I am of hire adrad.P. ii. 21For as a man that sodeinliA gost behelde, so fare I;1155So that for feere I can noght geteMi witt, bot I miself foryete,That I wot nevere what I am,Ne whider I schal, ne whenne I cam,Bot muse as he that were amased.Lich to the bok in which is rased580The lettre, and mai nothing be rad,So ben my wittes overlad,That what as evere I thoghte have spoken,It is out fro myn herte stoken,1156And stonde, as who seith, doumb and def,That all nys worth an yvy lef,Of that I wende wel have seid.And ate laste I make abreid,1157Caste up myn hed and loke aboute,Riht as a man that were in doute590And wot noght wher he schal become.Thus am I ofte al overcome,Ther as I wende best to stonde:Bot after, whanne I understonde,And am in other place al one,I make many a wofull moneUnto miself, and speke so:‘Ha fol, wher was thin herte tho,Whan thou thi worthi ladi syhe?Were thou afered of hire yhe?600For of hire hand ther is no drede:So wel I knowe hir wommanhede,P. ii. 22That in hire is nomore oultrageThan in a child of thre yeer age.Whi hast thou drede of so good on,Whom alle vertu hath begon,That in hire is no violenceBot goodlihiede and innocenceWithouten spot of eny blame?Ha, nyce herte, fy for schame!610Ha, couard herte of love unlered,Wherof art thou so sore afered,That thou thi tunge soffrest frese,And wolt thi goode wordes lese,Whan thou hast founde time and space?How scholdest thou deserve grace,Whan thou thiself darst axe non,Bot al thou hast foryete anon?’1158And thus despute I loves lore,Bot help ne finde I noght the more,620Bot stomble upon myn oghne treineAnd make an ekinge of my peine.For evere whan I thenke amongHow al is on miself along,1159I seie, ‘O fol of alle foles,Thou farst as he betwen tuo stolesThat wolde sitte and goth to grounde.1160It was ne nevere schal be founde,1161Betwen foryetelnesse and dredeThat man scholde any cause spede.’630And thus, myn holi fader diere,Toward miself, as ye mai hiere,P. ii. 23I pleigne of my foryetelnesse;Bot elles al the besinesse,That mai be take of mannes thoght,Min herte takth, and is thorghsoghtTo thenken evere upon that sweteWithoute Slowthe, I you behete.For what so falle, or wel or wo,That thoght foryete I neveremo,640Wher so I lawhe or so I loure:1162Noght half the Minut of an houre1163Ne mihte I lete out of my mende,Bot if I thoghte upon that hende.Therof me schal no Slowthe lette,Til deth out of this world me fette,Althogh I hadde on such a Ring,As Moises thurgh his enchantingSom time in Ethiope made,Whan that he Tharbis weddid hade.650Which Ring bar of OblivionThe name, and that was be resounThat where it on a finger sat,Anon his love he so foryat,As thogh he hadde it nevere knowe:And so it fell that ilke throwe,Whan Tharbis hadde it on hire hond,No knowlechinge of him sche fond,Bot al was clene out of memoire,As men mai rede in his histoire;660And thus he wente quit away,That nevere after that ilke dayP. ii. 24Sche thoghte that ther was such on;Al was foryete and overgon.Bot in good feith so mai noght I:For sche is evere faste by,So nyh that sche myn herte toucheth,That for nothing that Slowthe vouchethI mai foryete hire, lief ne loth;For overal, where as sche goth,670Min herte folwith hire aboute.Thus mai I seie withoute doute,1164For bet, for wers, for oght, for noght,Sche passeth nevere fro my thoght;Bot whanne I am ther as sche is,Min herte, as I you saide er this,1165Som time of hire is sore adrad,And som time it is overglad,Al out of reule and out of space.For whan I se hir goodli face680And thenke upon hire hihe pris,As thogh I were in Paradis,I am so ravisht of the syhte,That speke unto hire I ne myhte1166As for the time, thogh I wolde:For I ne mai my wit unfoldeTo finde o word of that I mene,Bot al it is foryete clene;And thogh I stonde there a myle,Al is foryete for the while,690A tunge I have and wordes none.And thus I stonde and thenke al oneP. ii. 25Of thing that helpeth ofte noght;Bot what I hadde afore thoghtTo speke, whanne I come there,It is foryete, as noght ne were,And stonde amased and assoted,That of nothing which I have noted1167I can noght thanne a note singe,Bot al is out of knowlechinge:700Thus, what for joie and what for drede,Al is foryeten ate nede.So that, mi fader, of this SlowtheI have you said the pleine trowthe;Ye mai it as you list redresce:For thus stant my foryetelnesseAnd ek my pusillamite.Sey now forth what you list to me,1168For I wol only do be you.Confessor.Mi Sone, I have wel herd how thou710Hast seid, and that thou most amende:For love his grace wol noght sendeTo that man which dar axe non.1169For this we knowen everichon,A mannes thoght withoute specheGod wot, and yit that men besecheHis will is; for withoute bedesHe doth his grace in fewe stedes:And what man that foryet himselve,Among a thousand be noght tuelve,720That wol him take in remembraunce,Bot lete him falle and take his chaunce.P. ii. 26Forthi pull up a besi herte,Mi Sone, and let nothing asterteOf love fro thi besinesse:For touchinge of foryetelnesse,Which many a love hath set behinde,A tale of gret ensample I finde,Wherof it is pite to witeIn the manere as it is write.730[Demephon and Phillis.]King Demephon, whan he be SchipeTo Troieward with felaschipeHic in amoris causa contra obliuiosos ponit Confessor exemplum, qualiter Demephon versus bellum Troianum itinerando a Phillide Rodopeie Regina non tantum in hospicium, set eciam in amorem, gaudio magno susceptus est: qui postea ab ipsa1170Troie discedens rediturum infra certum tempus fidelissime se compromisit. Set quia huiusmodi promissionis diem statutum postmodum oblitus est, Phillis obliuionem Demephontis lacrimis primo deplangens, tandem cordula collo suo circumligata in quadam corulo pre dolore se mortuam suspendit.Sailende goth, upon his weieIt hapneth him at Rodopeie,As Eolus him hadde blowe,To londe, and rested for a throwe.And fell that ilke time thus,The dowhter of Ligurgius,Which qweene was of the contre,Was sojournende in that Cite740Withinne a Castell nyh the stronde,Wher Demephon cam up to londe.Phillis sche hihte, and of yong ageAnd of stature and of visageSche hadde al that hire best besemeth.Of Demephon riht wel hire qwemeth,Whan he was come, and made him chiere;And he, that was of his manereA lusti knyht, ne myhte asterteThat he ne sette on hire his herte;750So that withinne a day or tuoHe thoghte, how evere that it go,P. ii. 27He wolde assaie the fortune,And gan his herte to communeWith goodly wordes in hire Ere;And forto put hire out of fere,He swor and hath his trowthe plihtTo be for evere hire oghne knyht.And thus with hire he stille abod,Ther while his Schip on Anker rod,1171760And hadde ynowh of time and spaceTo speke of love and seche grace.This ladi herde al that he seide,And hou he swor and hou he preide,Which was as an enchantementTo hire, that was innocent:1172As thogh it were trowthe and feith,Sche lieveth al that evere he seith,And as hire infortune scholde,Sche granteth him al that he wolde.770Thus was he for the time in joie,Til that he scholde go to Troie;Bot tho sche made mochel sorwe,And he his trowthe leith to borweTo come, if that he live may,Ayein withinne a Monthe day,And therupon thei kisten bothe:Bot were hem lieve or were hem lothe,To Schipe he goth and forth he wenteTo Troie, as was his ferste entente.780The daies gon, the Monthe passeth,Hire love encresceth and his lasseth,P. ii. 28For him sche lefte slep and mete,And he his time hath al foryete;So that this wofull yonge qweene,Which wot noght what it mihte meene,A lettre sende and preide him come,And seith how sche is overcomeWith strengthe of love in such a wise,That sche noght longe mai suffise1173790To liven out of his presence;And putte upon his conscienceThe trowthe which he hath behote,Wherof sche loveth him so hote,Sche seith, that if he lengere letteOf such a day as sche him sette,Sche scholde sterven in his Slowthe,1174Which were a schame unto his trowthe.This lettre is forth upon hire sonde,Wherof somdiel confort on honde800Sche tok, as sche that wolde abideAnd waite upon that ilke tydeWhich sche hath in hire lettre write.Bot now is pite forto wite,As he dede erst, so he foryatHis time eftsone and oversat.Bot sche, which mihte noght do so,The tyde awayteth everemo,And caste hire yhe upon the See:Somtime nay, somtime yee,810Somtime he cam, somtime noght,Thus sche desputeth in hire thoghtP. ii. 29And wot noght what sche thenke mai;Bot fastende al the longe daySche was into the derke nyht,And tho sche hath do set up lyhtIn a lanterne on hih alofteUpon a Tour, wher sche goth ofte,In hope that in his comingeHe scholde se the liht brenninge,820Wherof he mihte his weies rihteTo come wher sche was be nyhte.Bot al for noght, sche was deceived,For Venus hath hire hope weyved,And schewede hire upon the SkyHow that the day was faste by,So that withinne a litel throweThe daies lyht sche mihte knowe.Tho sche behield the See at large;And whan sche sih ther was no barge830Ne Schip, als ferr as sche may kenne,Doun fro the Tour sche gan to renneInto an Herber all hire one,Wher many a wonder woful moneSche made, that no lif it wiste,As sche which all hire joie miste,That now sche swouneth, now sche pleigneth,And al hire face sche desteignethWith teres, whiche, as of a welleThe stremes, from hire yhen felle;840So as sche mihte and evere in onSche clepede upon Demephon,P. ii. 30And seide, ‘Helas, thou slowe wiht,Wher was ther evere such a knyht,That so thurgh his ungentilesceOf Slowthe and of foryetelnesseAyein his trowthe brak his stevene?’And tho hire yhe up to the heveneSche caste, and seide, ‘O thou unkinde,Hier schalt thou thurgh thi Slowthe finde,850If that thee list to come and se,A ladi ded for love of thee,So as I schal myselve spille;Whom, if it hadde be thi wille,Thou mihtest save wel ynowh.’With that upon a grene bowhA Ceinte of Selk, which sche ther hadde,Sche knette, and so hireself sche ladde,That sche aboute hire whyte swereIt dede, and hyng hirselven there.860Wherof the goddes were amoeved,And Demephon was so reproeved,That of the goddes providenceWas schape such an evidenceEvere afterward ayein the slowe,That Phillis in the same throweWas schape into a Notetre,That alle men it mihte se,And after Phillis PhilliberdThis tre was cleped in the yerd,870And yit for Demephon to schameInto this dai it berth the name.P. ii. 31This wofull chance how that it ferdeAnon as Demephon it herde,And every man it hadde in speche,His sorwe was noght tho to seche;He gan his Slowthe forto banne,Bot it was al to late thanne.Confessor.Lo thus, my Sone, miht thou witeAyein this vice how it is write;880For noman mai the harmes gesse,That fallen thurgh foryetelnesse,Wherof that I thi schrifte have herd.Bot yit of Slowthe hou it hath ferdIn other wise I thenke oppose,If thou have gult, as I suppose.[iv.Negligence.]iv.Dum plantare licet, cultor qui necgligit ortum,Si desint fructus, imputet ipse sibi.Preterit ista dies bona, nec valet illa secunda,Hoc caret exemplo lentus amore suo.1175Fulfild of Slowthes essamplaireTher is yit on, his Secretaire,And he is cleped Negligence:Hic tractat Confessor de vicio Necgligencie, cuius condicio Accidiam amplectens omnes artes sciencie, tam in amoris causa quam aliter, ignominiosa pretermittens, cum nullum poterit eminere remedium, sui ministerii diligenciam expostfacto in vacuum attemptare presumit.Which wol noght loke his evidence,890Wherof he mai be war tofore;Bot whanne he hath his cause lore,Thanne is he wys after the hond:Whanne helpe may no maner bond,Thanne ate ferste wolde he binde:Thus everemore he stant behinde.Whanne he the thing mai noght amende,Thanne is he war, and seith at ende,P. ii. 32‘Ha, wolde god I hadde knowe!’Wherof bejaped with a mowe900He goth, for whan the grete StiedeIs stole, thanne he taketh hiede,And makth the stable dore fast:Thus evere he pleith an aftercastOf al that he schal seie or do.He hath a manere eke also,Him list noght lerne to be wys,For he set of no vertu prisBot as him liketh for the while;So fieleth he fulofte guile,910Whan that he weneth siker stonde.And thus thou miht wel understonde,Mi Sone, if thou art such in love,Thou miht noght come at thin aboveOf that thou woldest wel achieve.Confessio Amantis.Mi holi fader, as I lieve,I mai wel with sauf conscienceExcuse me of necgligenceTowardes love in alle wise:For thogh I be non of the wise,920I am so trewly amerous,That I am evere curiousOf hem that conne best enformeTo knowe and witen al the forme,What falleth unto loves craft.Bot yit ne fond I noght the haft,Which mihte unto that bladd acorde;1176For nevere herde I man recordeP. ii. 33What thing it is that myhte availeTo winne love withoute faile.930Yit so fer cowthe I nevere findeMan that be resoun ne be kindeMe cowthe teche such an art,That he ne failede of a part;And as toward myn oghne wit,Controeve cowthe I nevere yitTo finden eny sikernesse,That me myhte outher more or lesseOf love make forto spede:For lieveth wel withoute drede,940If that ther were such a weie,As certeinliche as I schal deieI hadde it lerned longe ago.Bot I wot wel ther is non so:And natheles it may wel be,I am so rude in my degreeAnd ek mi wittes ben so dulle,That I ne mai noght to the fulleAtteigne to so hih a lore.Bot this I dar seie overmore,950Althogh mi wit ne be noght strong,It is noght on mi will along,For that is besi nyht and dayTo lerne al that he lerne may,How that I mihte love winne:1177Bot yit I am as to beginneOf that I wolde make an ende,And for I not how it schal wende,P. ii. 34That is to me mi moste sorwe.Bot I dar take god to borwe,960As after min entendement,Non other wise necgligentThanne I yow seie have I noght be:Forthi per seinte chariteTell me, mi fader, what you semeth.Confessor.In good feith, Sone, wel me qwemeth,That thou thiself hast thus aquitToward this vice, in which no wit1178Abide mai, for in an houreHe lest al that he mai laboure970The longe yer, so that men sein,What evere he doth it is in vein.For thurgh the Slowthe of NegligenceTher was yit nevere such science1179Ne vertu, which was bodely,That nys destruid and lost therby.Ensample that it hath be soIn boke I finde write also.[Tale of Phaeton.]Phebus, which is the Sonne hote,That schyneth upon Erthe hote980And causeth every lyves helthe,Hic contra vicium necgligencie ponit Confessor exemplum; et narrat quod cum1180Pheton filius Solis currum patris sui per aera regere debuerat, admonitus a patre vt equos ne deuiarent equa manu diligencius refrenaret, ipse consilium patris sua negligencia preteriens, equos cum curru nimis basse errare permisit; vnde non solum incendio orbem inflammauit, set et seipsum de curru cadentem in quoddam fluuium demergi ad interitum causauit.He hadde a Sone in al his welthe,Which Pheton hihte, and he desirethAnd with his Moder he conspireth,The which was cleped Clemenee,1181For help and conseil, so that he1182His fader carte lede myhteUpon the faire daies brihte.1183P. ii. 35And for this thing thei bothe preideUnto the fader, and he seide990He wolde wel, bot forth withalThre pointz he bad in specialUnto his Sone in alle wise,That he him scholde wel aviseAnd take it as be weie of lore.Ferst was, that he his hors to soreNe prike, and over that he toldeThat he the renes faste holde;And also that he be riht warIn what manere he lede his charr,1000That he mistake noght his gate,Bot up avisement algate1184He scholde here a siker yhe,That he to lowe ne to hyheHis carte dryve at eny throwe,Wherof that he mihte overthrowe.And thus be Phebus ordinanceTok Pheton into governanceThe Sonnes carte, which he ladde:Bot he such veine gloire hadde1010Of that he was set upon hyh,That he his oghne astat ne syhThurgh negligence and tok non hiede;So mihte he wel noght longe spede.1185For he the hors withoute laweThe carte let aboute draweWher as hem liketh wantounly,That ate laste sodeinly,P. ii. 36For he no reson wolde knowe,This fyri carte he drof to lowe,1020And fyreth al the world aboute;Wherof thei weren alle in doubte,And to the god for helpe cridenOf suche unhappes as betyden.Phebus, which syh the necgligence,How Pheton ayein his defenceHis charr hath drive out of the weie,Ordeigneth that he fell aweieOut of the carte into a flod1186And dreynte. Lo now, hou it stod1030With him that was so necgligent,That fro the hyhe firmament,For that he wolde go to lowe,He was anon doun overthrowe.[Tale of Icarus.]In hih astat it is a vice1187To go to lowe, and in serviceExemplum super eodem de Icharo Dedali filio in carcere Minotauri existente, cui Dedalus, vt inde euolaret, alas componens, firmiter iniunxit ne nimis alte propter Solis ardorem ascenderet: quod Icharus sua negligencia postponens, cum alcius sublimatus fuisset, subito ad terram corruens expirauit.It grieveth forto go to hye,Wherof a tale in poesieI finde, how whilom Dedalus,Which hadde a Sone, and Icharus1040He hihte, and thogh hem thoghte lothe,In such prison thei weren botheWith Minotaurus, that abouteThei mihten nawher wenden oute;So thei begonne forto schapeHow thei the prison mihte ascape.This Dedalus, which fro his yowtheWas tawht and manye craftes cowthe,P. ii. 37Of fetheres and of othre thingesHath mad to fle diverse wynges1050For him and for his Sone also;To whom he yaf in charge thoAnd bad him thenke therupon,How that his wynges ben set onWith wex, and if he toke his flyhteTo hyhe, al sodeinliche he mihteMake it to melte with the Sonne.And thus thei have her flyht begonneOut of the prison faire and softe;And whan thei weren bothe alofte,1060This Icharus began to monte,And of the conseil non accompteHe sette, which his fader tawhte,Til that the Sonne his wynges cawhte,Wherof it malt, and fro the heihteWithouten help of eny sleihteHe fell to his destruccion.And lich to that condicionTher fallen ofte times feleFor lacke of governance in wele,1070Als wel in love as other weie.Amans.Now goode fader, I you preie,If ther be more in the matiere1188Of Slowthe, that I mihte it hiere.1189Confessor.Mi Sone, and for thi diligence,1190Which every mannes conscienceBe resoun scholde reule and kepe,If that thee list to taken kepe,P. ii. 38I wol thee telle, aboven alleIn whom no vertu mai befalle,1080Which yifth unto the vices resteAnd is of slowe the sloweste.1191
[iii.Forgetfulness.]iii.Mentibus oblitus alienis labitur ille,Quem probat accidia non meminisse sui.Sic amor incautus, qui non memoratur ad horas,1150Perdit et offendit, quod cuperare nequit.To serve Accidie in his office,Ther is of Slowthe an other vice,540Which cleped is Foryetelnesse;Hic tractat Confessor de vicio Obliuionis, quam mater eius Accidia ad omnes virtutum memorias necnon et in amoris causa immemorem constituit.1151That noght mai in his herte impresseP. ii. 20Of vertu which reson hath sett,So clene his wittes he foryet.For in the tellinge of his taleNomore his herte thanne his maleHath remembrance of thilke forme,Wherof he scholde his wit enforme1152As thanne, and yit ne wot he why.Thus is his pourpos noght forthi550Forlore of that he wolde bidde,And skarsly if he seith the thriddeTo love of that he hadde ment:Thus many a lovere hath be schent.Tell on therfore, hast thou be oon1153Of hem that Slowthe hath so begon?Confessio Amantis.Ye, fader, ofte it hath be so,That whanne I am mi ladi froAnd thenke untoward hire drawe,Than cast I many a newe lawe1154560And al the world torne up so doun,And so recorde I mi lecounAnd wryte in my memorialWhat I to hire telle schal,Riht al the matiere of mi tale:Bot al nys worth a note schale;For whanne I come ther sche is,I have it al foryete ywiss;Of that I thoghte forto telleI can noght thanne unethes spelle570That I wende altherbest have rad,So sore I am of hire adrad.P. ii. 21For as a man that sodeinliA gost behelde, so fare I;1155So that for feere I can noght geteMi witt, bot I miself foryete,That I wot nevere what I am,Ne whider I schal, ne whenne I cam,Bot muse as he that were amased.Lich to the bok in which is rased580The lettre, and mai nothing be rad,So ben my wittes overlad,That what as evere I thoghte have spoken,It is out fro myn herte stoken,1156And stonde, as who seith, doumb and def,That all nys worth an yvy lef,Of that I wende wel have seid.And ate laste I make abreid,1157Caste up myn hed and loke aboute,Riht as a man that were in doute590And wot noght wher he schal become.Thus am I ofte al overcome,Ther as I wende best to stonde:Bot after, whanne I understonde,And am in other place al one,I make many a wofull moneUnto miself, and speke so:‘Ha fol, wher was thin herte tho,Whan thou thi worthi ladi syhe?Were thou afered of hire yhe?600For of hire hand ther is no drede:So wel I knowe hir wommanhede,P. ii. 22That in hire is nomore oultrageThan in a child of thre yeer age.Whi hast thou drede of so good on,Whom alle vertu hath begon,That in hire is no violenceBot goodlihiede and innocenceWithouten spot of eny blame?Ha, nyce herte, fy for schame!610Ha, couard herte of love unlered,Wherof art thou so sore afered,That thou thi tunge soffrest frese,And wolt thi goode wordes lese,Whan thou hast founde time and space?How scholdest thou deserve grace,Whan thou thiself darst axe non,Bot al thou hast foryete anon?’1158And thus despute I loves lore,Bot help ne finde I noght the more,620Bot stomble upon myn oghne treineAnd make an ekinge of my peine.For evere whan I thenke amongHow al is on miself along,1159I seie, ‘O fol of alle foles,Thou farst as he betwen tuo stolesThat wolde sitte and goth to grounde.1160It was ne nevere schal be founde,1161Betwen foryetelnesse and dredeThat man scholde any cause spede.’630And thus, myn holi fader diere,Toward miself, as ye mai hiere,P. ii. 23I pleigne of my foryetelnesse;Bot elles al the besinesse,That mai be take of mannes thoght,Min herte takth, and is thorghsoghtTo thenken evere upon that sweteWithoute Slowthe, I you behete.For what so falle, or wel or wo,That thoght foryete I neveremo,640Wher so I lawhe or so I loure:1162Noght half the Minut of an houre1163Ne mihte I lete out of my mende,Bot if I thoghte upon that hende.Therof me schal no Slowthe lette,Til deth out of this world me fette,Althogh I hadde on such a Ring,As Moises thurgh his enchantingSom time in Ethiope made,Whan that he Tharbis weddid hade.650Which Ring bar of OblivionThe name, and that was be resounThat where it on a finger sat,Anon his love he so foryat,As thogh he hadde it nevere knowe:And so it fell that ilke throwe,Whan Tharbis hadde it on hire hond,No knowlechinge of him sche fond,Bot al was clene out of memoire,As men mai rede in his histoire;660And thus he wente quit away,That nevere after that ilke dayP. ii. 24Sche thoghte that ther was such on;Al was foryete and overgon.Bot in good feith so mai noght I:For sche is evere faste by,So nyh that sche myn herte toucheth,That for nothing that Slowthe vouchethI mai foryete hire, lief ne loth;For overal, where as sche goth,670Min herte folwith hire aboute.Thus mai I seie withoute doute,1164For bet, for wers, for oght, for noght,Sche passeth nevere fro my thoght;Bot whanne I am ther as sche is,Min herte, as I you saide er this,1165Som time of hire is sore adrad,And som time it is overglad,Al out of reule and out of space.For whan I se hir goodli face680And thenke upon hire hihe pris,As thogh I were in Paradis,I am so ravisht of the syhte,That speke unto hire I ne myhte1166As for the time, thogh I wolde:For I ne mai my wit unfoldeTo finde o word of that I mene,Bot al it is foryete clene;And thogh I stonde there a myle,Al is foryete for the while,690A tunge I have and wordes none.And thus I stonde and thenke al oneP. ii. 25Of thing that helpeth ofte noght;Bot what I hadde afore thoghtTo speke, whanne I come there,It is foryete, as noght ne were,And stonde amased and assoted,That of nothing which I have noted1167I can noght thanne a note singe,Bot al is out of knowlechinge:700Thus, what for joie and what for drede,Al is foryeten ate nede.So that, mi fader, of this SlowtheI have you said the pleine trowthe;Ye mai it as you list redresce:For thus stant my foryetelnesseAnd ek my pusillamite.Sey now forth what you list to me,1168For I wol only do be you.Confessor.Mi Sone, I have wel herd how thou710Hast seid, and that thou most amende:For love his grace wol noght sendeTo that man which dar axe non.1169For this we knowen everichon,A mannes thoght withoute specheGod wot, and yit that men besecheHis will is; for withoute bedesHe doth his grace in fewe stedes:And what man that foryet himselve,Among a thousand be noght tuelve,720That wol him take in remembraunce,Bot lete him falle and take his chaunce.P. ii. 26Forthi pull up a besi herte,Mi Sone, and let nothing asterteOf love fro thi besinesse:For touchinge of foryetelnesse,Which many a love hath set behinde,A tale of gret ensample I finde,Wherof it is pite to witeIn the manere as it is write.730[Demephon and Phillis.]King Demephon, whan he be SchipeTo Troieward with felaschipeHic in amoris causa contra obliuiosos ponit Confessor exemplum, qualiter Demephon versus bellum Troianum itinerando a Phillide Rodopeie Regina non tantum in hospicium, set eciam in amorem, gaudio magno susceptus est: qui postea ab ipsa1170Troie discedens rediturum infra certum tempus fidelissime se compromisit. Set quia huiusmodi promissionis diem statutum postmodum oblitus est, Phillis obliuionem Demephontis lacrimis primo deplangens, tandem cordula collo suo circumligata in quadam corulo pre dolore se mortuam suspendit.Sailende goth, upon his weieIt hapneth him at Rodopeie,As Eolus him hadde blowe,To londe, and rested for a throwe.And fell that ilke time thus,The dowhter of Ligurgius,Which qweene was of the contre,Was sojournende in that Cite740Withinne a Castell nyh the stronde,Wher Demephon cam up to londe.Phillis sche hihte, and of yong ageAnd of stature and of visageSche hadde al that hire best besemeth.Of Demephon riht wel hire qwemeth,Whan he was come, and made him chiere;And he, that was of his manereA lusti knyht, ne myhte asterteThat he ne sette on hire his herte;750So that withinne a day or tuoHe thoghte, how evere that it go,P. ii. 27He wolde assaie the fortune,And gan his herte to communeWith goodly wordes in hire Ere;And forto put hire out of fere,He swor and hath his trowthe plihtTo be for evere hire oghne knyht.And thus with hire he stille abod,Ther while his Schip on Anker rod,1171760And hadde ynowh of time and spaceTo speke of love and seche grace.This ladi herde al that he seide,And hou he swor and hou he preide,Which was as an enchantementTo hire, that was innocent:1172As thogh it were trowthe and feith,Sche lieveth al that evere he seith,And as hire infortune scholde,Sche granteth him al that he wolde.770Thus was he for the time in joie,Til that he scholde go to Troie;Bot tho sche made mochel sorwe,And he his trowthe leith to borweTo come, if that he live may,Ayein withinne a Monthe day,And therupon thei kisten bothe:Bot were hem lieve or were hem lothe,To Schipe he goth and forth he wenteTo Troie, as was his ferste entente.780The daies gon, the Monthe passeth,Hire love encresceth and his lasseth,P. ii. 28For him sche lefte slep and mete,And he his time hath al foryete;So that this wofull yonge qweene,Which wot noght what it mihte meene,A lettre sende and preide him come,And seith how sche is overcomeWith strengthe of love in such a wise,That sche noght longe mai suffise1173790To liven out of his presence;And putte upon his conscienceThe trowthe which he hath behote,Wherof sche loveth him so hote,Sche seith, that if he lengere letteOf such a day as sche him sette,Sche scholde sterven in his Slowthe,1174Which were a schame unto his trowthe.This lettre is forth upon hire sonde,Wherof somdiel confort on honde800Sche tok, as sche that wolde abideAnd waite upon that ilke tydeWhich sche hath in hire lettre write.Bot now is pite forto wite,As he dede erst, so he foryatHis time eftsone and oversat.Bot sche, which mihte noght do so,The tyde awayteth everemo,And caste hire yhe upon the See:Somtime nay, somtime yee,810Somtime he cam, somtime noght,Thus sche desputeth in hire thoghtP. ii. 29And wot noght what sche thenke mai;Bot fastende al the longe daySche was into the derke nyht,And tho sche hath do set up lyhtIn a lanterne on hih alofteUpon a Tour, wher sche goth ofte,In hope that in his comingeHe scholde se the liht brenninge,820Wherof he mihte his weies rihteTo come wher sche was be nyhte.Bot al for noght, sche was deceived,For Venus hath hire hope weyved,And schewede hire upon the SkyHow that the day was faste by,So that withinne a litel throweThe daies lyht sche mihte knowe.Tho sche behield the See at large;And whan sche sih ther was no barge830Ne Schip, als ferr as sche may kenne,Doun fro the Tour sche gan to renneInto an Herber all hire one,Wher many a wonder woful moneSche made, that no lif it wiste,As sche which all hire joie miste,That now sche swouneth, now sche pleigneth,And al hire face sche desteignethWith teres, whiche, as of a welleThe stremes, from hire yhen felle;840So as sche mihte and evere in onSche clepede upon Demephon,P. ii. 30And seide, ‘Helas, thou slowe wiht,Wher was ther evere such a knyht,That so thurgh his ungentilesceOf Slowthe and of foryetelnesseAyein his trowthe brak his stevene?’And tho hire yhe up to the heveneSche caste, and seide, ‘O thou unkinde,Hier schalt thou thurgh thi Slowthe finde,850If that thee list to come and se,A ladi ded for love of thee,So as I schal myselve spille;Whom, if it hadde be thi wille,Thou mihtest save wel ynowh.’With that upon a grene bowhA Ceinte of Selk, which sche ther hadde,Sche knette, and so hireself sche ladde,That sche aboute hire whyte swereIt dede, and hyng hirselven there.860Wherof the goddes were amoeved,And Demephon was so reproeved,That of the goddes providenceWas schape such an evidenceEvere afterward ayein the slowe,That Phillis in the same throweWas schape into a Notetre,That alle men it mihte se,And after Phillis PhilliberdThis tre was cleped in the yerd,870And yit for Demephon to schameInto this dai it berth the name.P. ii. 31This wofull chance how that it ferdeAnon as Demephon it herde,And every man it hadde in speche,His sorwe was noght tho to seche;He gan his Slowthe forto banne,Bot it was al to late thanne.Confessor.Lo thus, my Sone, miht thou witeAyein this vice how it is write;880For noman mai the harmes gesse,That fallen thurgh foryetelnesse,Wherof that I thi schrifte have herd.Bot yit of Slowthe hou it hath ferdIn other wise I thenke oppose,If thou have gult, as I suppose.[iv.Negligence.]iv.Dum plantare licet, cultor qui necgligit ortum,Si desint fructus, imputet ipse sibi.Preterit ista dies bona, nec valet illa secunda,Hoc caret exemplo lentus amore suo.1175Fulfild of Slowthes essamplaireTher is yit on, his Secretaire,And he is cleped Negligence:Hic tractat Confessor de vicio Necgligencie, cuius condicio Accidiam amplectens omnes artes sciencie, tam in amoris causa quam aliter, ignominiosa pretermittens, cum nullum poterit eminere remedium, sui ministerii diligenciam expostfacto in vacuum attemptare presumit.Which wol noght loke his evidence,890Wherof he mai be war tofore;Bot whanne he hath his cause lore,Thanne is he wys after the hond:Whanne helpe may no maner bond,Thanne ate ferste wolde he binde:Thus everemore he stant behinde.Whanne he the thing mai noght amende,Thanne is he war, and seith at ende,P. ii. 32‘Ha, wolde god I hadde knowe!’Wherof bejaped with a mowe900He goth, for whan the grete StiedeIs stole, thanne he taketh hiede,And makth the stable dore fast:Thus evere he pleith an aftercastOf al that he schal seie or do.He hath a manere eke also,Him list noght lerne to be wys,For he set of no vertu prisBot as him liketh for the while;So fieleth he fulofte guile,910Whan that he weneth siker stonde.And thus thou miht wel understonde,Mi Sone, if thou art such in love,Thou miht noght come at thin aboveOf that thou woldest wel achieve.Confessio Amantis.Mi holi fader, as I lieve,I mai wel with sauf conscienceExcuse me of necgligenceTowardes love in alle wise:For thogh I be non of the wise,920I am so trewly amerous,That I am evere curiousOf hem that conne best enformeTo knowe and witen al the forme,What falleth unto loves craft.Bot yit ne fond I noght the haft,Which mihte unto that bladd acorde;1176For nevere herde I man recordeP. ii. 33What thing it is that myhte availeTo winne love withoute faile.930Yit so fer cowthe I nevere findeMan that be resoun ne be kindeMe cowthe teche such an art,That he ne failede of a part;And as toward myn oghne wit,Controeve cowthe I nevere yitTo finden eny sikernesse,That me myhte outher more or lesseOf love make forto spede:For lieveth wel withoute drede,940If that ther were such a weie,As certeinliche as I schal deieI hadde it lerned longe ago.Bot I wot wel ther is non so:And natheles it may wel be,I am so rude in my degreeAnd ek mi wittes ben so dulle,That I ne mai noght to the fulleAtteigne to so hih a lore.Bot this I dar seie overmore,950Althogh mi wit ne be noght strong,It is noght on mi will along,For that is besi nyht and dayTo lerne al that he lerne may,How that I mihte love winne:1177Bot yit I am as to beginneOf that I wolde make an ende,And for I not how it schal wende,P. ii. 34That is to me mi moste sorwe.Bot I dar take god to borwe,960As after min entendement,Non other wise necgligentThanne I yow seie have I noght be:Forthi per seinte chariteTell me, mi fader, what you semeth.Confessor.In good feith, Sone, wel me qwemeth,That thou thiself hast thus aquitToward this vice, in which no wit1178Abide mai, for in an houreHe lest al that he mai laboure970The longe yer, so that men sein,What evere he doth it is in vein.For thurgh the Slowthe of NegligenceTher was yit nevere such science1179Ne vertu, which was bodely,That nys destruid and lost therby.Ensample that it hath be soIn boke I finde write also.[Tale of Phaeton.]Phebus, which is the Sonne hote,That schyneth upon Erthe hote980And causeth every lyves helthe,Hic contra vicium necgligencie ponit Confessor exemplum; et narrat quod cum1180Pheton filius Solis currum patris sui per aera regere debuerat, admonitus a patre vt equos ne deuiarent equa manu diligencius refrenaret, ipse consilium patris sua negligencia preteriens, equos cum curru nimis basse errare permisit; vnde non solum incendio orbem inflammauit, set et seipsum de curru cadentem in quoddam fluuium demergi ad interitum causauit.He hadde a Sone in al his welthe,Which Pheton hihte, and he desirethAnd with his Moder he conspireth,The which was cleped Clemenee,1181For help and conseil, so that he1182His fader carte lede myhteUpon the faire daies brihte.1183P. ii. 35And for this thing thei bothe preideUnto the fader, and he seide990He wolde wel, bot forth withalThre pointz he bad in specialUnto his Sone in alle wise,That he him scholde wel aviseAnd take it as be weie of lore.Ferst was, that he his hors to soreNe prike, and over that he toldeThat he the renes faste holde;And also that he be riht warIn what manere he lede his charr,1000That he mistake noght his gate,Bot up avisement algate1184He scholde here a siker yhe,That he to lowe ne to hyheHis carte dryve at eny throwe,Wherof that he mihte overthrowe.And thus be Phebus ordinanceTok Pheton into governanceThe Sonnes carte, which he ladde:Bot he such veine gloire hadde1010Of that he was set upon hyh,That he his oghne astat ne syhThurgh negligence and tok non hiede;So mihte he wel noght longe spede.1185For he the hors withoute laweThe carte let aboute draweWher as hem liketh wantounly,That ate laste sodeinly,P. ii. 36For he no reson wolde knowe,This fyri carte he drof to lowe,1020And fyreth al the world aboute;Wherof thei weren alle in doubte,And to the god for helpe cridenOf suche unhappes as betyden.Phebus, which syh the necgligence,How Pheton ayein his defenceHis charr hath drive out of the weie,Ordeigneth that he fell aweieOut of the carte into a flod1186And dreynte. Lo now, hou it stod1030With him that was so necgligent,That fro the hyhe firmament,For that he wolde go to lowe,He was anon doun overthrowe.[Tale of Icarus.]In hih astat it is a vice1187To go to lowe, and in serviceExemplum super eodem de Icharo Dedali filio in carcere Minotauri existente, cui Dedalus, vt inde euolaret, alas componens, firmiter iniunxit ne nimis alte propter Solis ardorem ascenderet: quod Icharus sua negligencia postponens, cum alcius sublimatus fuisset, subito ad terram corruens expirauit.It grieveth forto go to hye,Wherof a tale in poesieI finde, how whilom Dedalus,Which hadde a Sone, and Icharus1040He hihte, and thogh hem thoghte lothe,In such prison thei weren botheWith Minotaurus, that abouteThei mihten nawher wenden oute;So thei begonne forto schapeHow thei the prison mihte ascape.This Dedalus, which fro his yowtheWas tawht and manye craftes cowthe,P. ii. 37Of fetheres and of othre thingesHath mad to fle diverse wynges1050For him and for his Sone also;To whom he yaf in charge thoAnd bad him thenke therupon,How that his wynges ben set onWith wex, and if he toke his flyhteTo hyhe, al sodeinliche he mihteMake it to melte with the Sonne.And thus thei have her flyht begonneOut of the prison faire and softe;And whan thei weren bothe alofte,1060This Icharus began to monte,And of the conseil non accompteHe sette, which his fader tawhte,Til that the Sonne his wynges cawhte,Wherof it malt, and fro the heihteWithouten help of eny sleihteHe fell to his destruccion.And lich to that condicionTher fallen ofte times feleFor lacke of governance in wele,1070Als wel in love as other weie.Amans.Now goode fader, I you preie,If ther be more in the matiere1188Of Slowthe, that I mihte it hiere.1189Confessor.Mi Sone, and for thi diligence,1190Which every mannes conscienceBe resoun scholde reule and kepe,If that thee list to taken kepe,P. ii. 38I wol thee telle, aboven alleIn whom no vertu mai befalle,1080Which yifth unto the vices resteAnd is of slowe the sloweste.1191
[iii.Forgetfulness.]iii.Mentibus oblitus alienis labitur ille,Quem probat accidia non meminisse sui.Sic amor incautus, qui non memoratur ad horas,1150Perdit et offendit, quod cuperare nequit.
[iii.Forgetfulness.]
iii.Mentibus oblitus alienis labitur ille,
Quem probat accidia non meminisse sui.
Sic amor incautus, qui non memoratur ad horas,1150
Perdit et offendit, quod cuperare nequit.
To serve Accidie in his office,Ther is of Slowthe an other vice,540Which cleped is Foryetelnesse;Hic tractat Confessor de vicio Obliuionis, quam mater eius Accidia ad omnes virtutum memorias necnon et in amoris causa immemorem constituit.1151That noght mai in his herte impresseP. ii. 20Of vertu which reson hath sett,So clene his wittes he foryet.For in the tellinge of his taleNomore his herte thanne his maleHath remembrance of thilke forme,Wherof he scholde his wit enforme1152As thanne, and yit ne wot he why.Thus is his pourpos noght forthi550Forlore of that he wolde bidde,And skarsly if he seith the thriddeTo love of that he hadde ment:Thus many a lovere hath be schent.Tell on therfore, hast thou be oon1153Of hem that Slowthe hath so begon?Confessio Amantis.Ye, fader, ofte it hath be so,That whanne I am mi ladi froAnd thenke untoward hire drawe,Than cast I many a newe lawe1154560And al the world torne up so doun,And so recorde I mi lecounAnd wryte in my memorialWhat I to hire telle schal,Riht al the matiere of mi tale:Bot al nys worth a note schale;For whanne I come ther sche is,I have it al foryete ywiss;Of that I thoghte forto telleI can noght thanne unethes spelle570That I wende altherbest have rad,So sore I am of hire adrad.P. ii. 21For as a man that sodeinliA gost behelde, so fare I;1155So that for feere I can noght geteMi witt, bot I miself foryete,That I wot nevere what I am,Ne whider I schal, ne whenne I cam,Bot muse as he that were amased.Lich to the bok in which is rased580The lettre, and mai nothing be rad,So ben my wittes overlad,That what as evere I thoghte have spoken,It is out fro myn herte stoken,1156And stonde, as who seith, doumb and def,That all nys worth an yvy lef,Of that I wende wel have seid.And ate laste I make abreid,1157Caste up myn hed and loke aboute,Riht as a man that were in doute590And wot noght wher he schal become.Thus am I ofte al overcome,Ther as I wende best to stonde:Bot after, whanne I understonde,And am in other place al one,I make many a wofull moneUnto miself, and speke so:‘Ha fol, wher was thin herte tho,Whan thou thi worthi ladi syhe?Were thou afered of hire yhe?600For of hire hand ther is no drede:So wel I knowe hir wommanhede,P. ii. 22That in hire is nomore oultrageThan in a child of thre yeer age.Whi hast thou drede of so good on,Whom alle vertu hath begon,That in hire is no violenceBot goodlihiede and innocenceWithouten spot of eny blame?Ha, nyce herte, fy for schame!610Ha, couard herte of love unlered,Wherof art thou so sore afered,That thou thi tunge soffrest frese,And wolt thi goode wordes lese,Whan thou hast founde time and space?How scholdest thou deserve grace,Whan thou thiself darst axe non,Bot al thou hast foryete anon?’1158And thus despute I loves lore,Bot help ne finde I noght the more,620Bot stomble upon myn oghne treineAnd make an ekinge of my peine.For evere whan I thenke amongHow al is on miself along,1159I seie, ‘O fol of alle foles,Thou farst as he betwen tuo stolesThat wolde sitte and goth to grounde.1160It was ne nevere schal be founde,1161Betwen foryetelnesse and dredeThat man scholde any cause spede.’630And thus, myn holi fader diere,Toward miself, as ye mai hiere,P. ii. 23I pleigne of my foryetelnesse;Bot elles al the besinesse,That mai be take of mannes thoght,Min herte takth, and is thorghsoghtTo thenken evere upon that sweteWithoute Slowthe, I you behete.For what so falle, or wel or wo,That thoght foryete I neveremo,640Wher so I lawhe or so I loure:1162Noght half the Minut of an houre1163Ne mihte I lete out of my mende,Bot if I thoghte upon that hende.Therof me schal no Slowthe lette,Til deth out of this world me fette,Althogh I hadde on such a Ring,As Moises thurgh his enchantingSom time in Ethiope made,Whan that he Tharbis weddid hade.650Which Ring bar of OblivionThe name, and that was be resounThat where it on a finger sat,Anon his love he so foryat,As thogh he hadde it nevere knowe:And so it fell that ilke throwe,Whan Tharbis hadde it on hire hond,No knowlechinge of him sche fond,Bot al was clene out of memoire,As men mai rede in his histoire;660And thus he wente quit away,That nevere after that ilke dayP. ii. 24Sche thoghte that ther was such on;Al was foryete and overgon.Bot in good feith so mai noght I:For sche is evere faste by,So nyh that sche myn herte toucheth,That for nothing that Slowthe vouchethI mai foryete hire, lief ne loth;For overal, where as sche goth,670Min herte folwith hire aboute.Thus mai I seie withoute doute,1164For bet, for wers, for oght, for noght,Sche passeth nevere fro my thoght;Bot whanne I am ther as sche is,Min herte, as I you saide er this,1165Som time of hire is sore adrad,And som time it is overglad,Al out of reule and out of space.For whan I se hir goodli face680And thenke upon hire hihe pris,As thogh I were in Paradis,I am so ravisht of the syhte,That speke unto hire I ne myhte1166As for the time, thogh I wolde:For I ne mai my wit unfoldeTo finde o word of that I mene,Bot al it is foryete clene;And thogh I stonde there a myle,Al is foryete for the while,690A tunge I have and wordes none.And thus I stonde and thenke al oneP. ii. 25Of thing that helpeth ofte noght;Bot what I hadde afore thoghtTo speke, whanne I come there,It is foryete, as noght ne were,And stonde amased and assoted,That of nothing which I have noted1167I can noght thanne a note singe,Bot al is out of knowlechinge:700Thus, what for joie and what for drede,Al is foryeten ate nede.So that, mi fader, of this SlowtheI have you said the pleine trowthe;Ye mai it as you list redresce:For thus stant my foryetelnesseAnd ek my pusillamite.Sey now forth what you list to me,1168For I wol only do be you.Confessor.Mi Sone, I have wel herd how thou710Hast seid, and that thou most amende:For love his grace wol noght sendeTo that man which dar axe non.1169For this we knowen everichon,A mannes thoght withoute specheGod wot, and yit that men besecheHis will is; for withoute bedesHe doth his grace in fewe stedes:And what man that foryet himselve,Among a thousand be noght tuelve,720That wol him take in remembraunce,Bot lete him falle and take his chaunce.P. ii. 26Forthi pull up a besi herte,Mi Sone, and let nothing asterteOf love fro thi besinesse:For touchinge of foryetelnesse,Which many a love hath set behinde,A tale of gret ensample I finde,Wherof it is pite to witeIn the manere as it is write.730
To serve Accidie in his office,
Ther is of Slowthe an other vice,540
Which cleped is Foryetelnesse;
Hic tractat Confessor de vicio Obliuionis, quam mater eius Accidia ad omnes virtutum memorias necnon et in amoris causa immemorem constituit.1151
That noght mai in his herte impresse
P. ii. 20
Of vertu which reson hath sett,
So clene his wittes he foryet.
For in the tellinge of his tale
Nomore his herte thanne his male
Hath remembrance of thilke forme,
Wherof he scholde his wit enforme1152
As thanne, and yit ne wot he why.
Thus is his pourpos noght forthi550
Forlore of that he wolde bidde,
And skarsly if he seith the thridde
To love of that he hadde ment:
Thus many a lovere hath be schent.
Tell on therfore, hast thou be oon1153
Of hem that Slowthe hath so begon?
Confessio Amantis.
Ye, fader, ofte it hath be so,
That whanne I am mi ladi fro
And thenke untoward hire drawe,
Than cast I many a newe lawe1154560
And al the world torne up so doun,
And so recorde I mi lecoun
And wryte in my memorial
What I to hire telle schal,
Riht al the matiere of mi tale:
Bot al nys worth a note schale;
For whanne I come ther sche is,
I have it al foryete ywiss;
Of that I thoghte forto telle
I can noght thanne unethes spelle570
That I wende altherbest have rad,
So sore I am of hire adrad.
P. ii. 21
For as a man that sodeinli
A gost behelde, so fare I;1155
So that for feere I can noght gete
Mi witt, bot I miself foryete,
That I wot nevere what I am,
Ne whider I schal, ne whenne I cam,
Bot muse as he that were amased.
Lich to the bok in which is rased580
The lettre, and mai nothing be rad,
So ben my wittes overlad,
That what as evere I thoghte have spoken,
It is out fro myn herte stoken,1156
And stonde, as who seith, doumb and def,
That all nys worth an yvy lef,
Of that I wende wel have seid.
And ate laste I make abreid,1157
Caste up myn hed and loke aboute,
Riht as a man that were in doute590
And wot noght wher he schal become.
Thus am I ofte al overcome,
Ther as I wende best to stonde:
Bot after, whanne I understonde,
And am in other place al one,
I make many a wofull mone
Unto miself, and speke so:
‘Ha fol, wher was thin herte tho,
Whan thou thi worthi ladi syhe?
Were thou afered of hire yhe?600
For of hire hand ther is no drede:
So wel I knowe hir wommanhede,
P. ii. 22
That in hire is nomore oultrage
Than in a child of thre yeer age.
Whi hast thou drede of so good on,
Whom alle vertu hath begon,
That in hire is no violence
Bot goodlihiede and innocence
Withouten spot of eny blame?
Ha, nyce herte, fy for schame!610
Ha, couard herte of love unlered,
Wherof art thou so sore afered,
That thou thi tunge soffrest frese,
And wolt thi goode wordes lese,
Whan thou hast founde time and space?
How scholdest thou deserve grace,
Whan thou thiself darst axe non,
Bot al thou hast foryete anon?’1158
And thus despute I loves lore,
Bot help ne finde I noght the more,620
Bot stomble upon myn oghne treine
And make an ekinge of my peine.
For evere whan I thenke among
How al is on miself along,1159
I seie, ‘O fol of alle foles,
Thou farst as he betwen tuo stoles
That wolde sitte and goth to grounde.1160
It was ne nevere schal be founde,1161
Betwen foryetelnesse and drede
That man scholde any cause spede.’630
And thus, myn holi fader diere,
Toward miself, as ye mai hiere,
P. ii. 23
I pleigne of my foryetelnesse;
Bot elles al the besinesse,
That mai be take of mannes thoght,
Min herte takth, and is thorghsoght
To thenken evere upon that swete
Withoute Slowthe, I you behete.
For what so falle, or wel or wo,
That thoght foryete I neveremo,640
Wher so I lawhe or so I loure:1162
Noght half the Minut of an houre1163
Ne mihte I lete out of my mende,
Bot if I thoghte upon that hende.
Therof me schal no Slowthe lette,
Til deth out of this world me fette,
Althogh I hadde on such a Ring,
As Moises thurgh his enchanting
Som time in Ethiope made,
Whan that he Tharbis weddid hade.650
Which Ring bar of Oblivion
The name, and that was be resoun
That where it on a finger sat,
Anon his love he so foryat,
As thogh he hadde it nevere knowe:
And so it fell that ilke throwe,
Whan Tharbis hadde it on hire hond,
No knowlechinge of him sche fond,
Bot al was clene out of memoire,
As men mai rede in his histoire;660
And thus he wente quit away,
That nevere after that ilke day
P. ii. 24
Sche thoghte that ther was such on;
Al was foryete and overgon.
Bot in good feith so mai noght I:
For sche is evere faste by,
So nyh that sche myn herte toucheth,
That for nothing that Slowthe voucheth
I mai foryete hire, lief ne loth;
For overal, where as sche goth,670
Min herte folwith hire aboute.
Thus mai I seie withoute doute,1164
For bet, for wers, for oght, for noght,
Sche passeth nevere fro my thoght;
Bot whanne I am ther as sche is,
Min herte, as I you saide er this,1165
Som time of hire is sore adrad,
And som time it is overglad,
Al out of reule and out of space.
For whan I se hir goodli face680
And thenke upon hire hihe pris,
As thogh I were in Paradis,
I am so ravisht of the syhte,
That speke unto hire I ne myhte1166
As for the time, thogh I wolde:
For I ne mai my wit unfolde
To finde o word of that I mene,
Bot al it is foryete clene;
And thogh I stonde there a myle,
Al is foryete for the while,690
A tunge I have and wordes none.
And thus I stonde and thenke al one
P. ii. 25
Of thing that helpeth ofte noght;
Bot what I hadde afore thoght
To speke, whanne I come there,
It is foryete, as noght ne were,
And stonde amased and assoted,
That of nothing which I have noted1167
I can noght thanne a note singe,
Bot al is out of knowlechinge:700
Thus, what for joie and what for drede,
Al is foryeten ate nede.
So that, mi fader, of this Slowthe
I have you said the pleine trowthe;
Ye mai it as you list redresce:
For thus stant my foryetelnesse
And ek my pusillamite.
Sey now forth what you list to me,1168
For I wol only do be you.
Confessor.
Mi Sone, I have wel herd how thou710
Hast seid, and that thou most amende:
For love his grace wol noght sende
To that man which dar axe non.1169
For this we knowen everichon,
A mannes thoght withoute speche
God wot, and yit that men beseche
His will is; for withoute bedes
He doth his grace in fewe stedes:
And what man that foryet himselve,
Among a thousand be noght tuelve,720
That wol him take in remembraunce,
Bot lete him falle and take his chaunce.
P. ii. 26
Forthi pull up a besi herte,
Mi Sone, and let nothing asterte
Of love fro thi besinesse:
For touchinge of foryetelnesse,
Which many a love hath set behinde,
A tale of gret ensample I finde,
Wherof it is pite to wite
In the manere as it is write.730
[Demephon and Phillis.]King Demephon, whan he be SchipeTo Troieward with felaschipeHic in amoris causa contra obliuiosos ponit Confessor exemplum, qualiter Demephon versus bellum Troianum itinerando a Phillide Rodopeie Regina non tantum in hospicium, set eciam in amorem, gaudio magno susceptus est: qui postea ab ipsa1170Troie discedens rediturum infra certum tempus fidelissime se compromisit. Set quia huiusmodi promissionis diem statutum postmodum oblitus est, Phillis obliuionem Demephontis lacrimis primo deplangens, tandem cordula collo suo circumligata in quadam corulo pre dolore se mortuam suspendit.Sailende goth, upon his weieIt hapneth him at Rodopeie,As Eolus him hadde blowe,To londe, and rested for a throwe.And fell that ilke time thus,The dowhter of Ligurgius,Which qweene was of the contre,Was sojournende in that Cite740Withinne a Castell nyh the stronde,Wher Demephon cam up to londe.Phillis sche hihte, and of yong ageAnd of stature and of visageSche hadde al that hire best besemeth.Of Demephon riht wel hire qwemeth,Whan he was come, and made him chiere;And he, that was of his manereA lusti knyht, ne myhte asterteThat he ne sette on hire his herte;750So that withinne a day or tuoHe thoghte, how evere that it go,P. ii. 27He wolde assaie the fortune,And gan his herte to communeWith goodly wordes in hire Ere;And forto put hire out of fere,He swor and hath his trowthe plihtTo be for evere hire oghne knyht.And thus with hire he stille abod,Ther while his Schip on Anker rod,1171760And hadde ynowh of time and spaceTo speke of love and seche grace.This ladi herde al that he seide,And hou he swor and hou he preide,Which was as an enchantementTo hire, that was innocent:1172As thogh it were trowthe and feith,Sche lieveth al that evere he seith,And as hire infortune scholde,Sche granteth him al that he wolde.770Thus was he for the time in joie,Til that he scholde go to Troie;Bot tho sche made mochel sorwe,And he his trowthe leith to borweTo come, if that he live may,Ayein withinne a Monthe day,And therupon thei kisten bothe:Bot were hem lieve or were hem lothe,To Schipe he goth and forth he wenteTo Troie, as was his ferste entente.780The daies gon, the Monthe passeth,Hire love encresceth and his lasseth,P. ii. 28For him sche lefte slep and mete,And he his time hath al foryete;So that this wofull yonge qweene,Which wot noght what it mihte meene,A lettre sende and preide him come,And seith how sche is overcomeWith strengthe of love in such a wise,That sche noght longe mai suffise1173790To liven out of his presence;And putte upon his conscienceThe trowthe which he hath behote,Wherof sche loveth him so hote,Sche seith, that if he lengere letteOf such a day as sche him sette,Sche scholde sterven in his Slowthe,1174Which were a schame unto his trowthe.This lettre is forth upon hire sonde,Wherof somdiel confort on honde800Sche tok, as sche that wolde abideAnd waite upon that ilke tydeWhich sche hath in hire lettre write.Bot now is pite forto wite,As he dede erst, so he foryatHis time eftsone and oversat.Bot sche, which mihte noght do so,The tyde awayteth everemo,And caste hire yhe upon the See:Somtime nay, somtime yee,810Somtime he cam, somtime noght,Thus sche desputeth in hire thoghtP. ii. 29And wot noght what sche thenke mai;Bot fastende al the longe daySche was into the derke nyht,And tho sche hath do set up lyhtIn a lanterne on hih alofteUpon a Tour, wher sche goth ofte,In hope that in his comingeHe scholde se the liht brenninge,820Wherof he mihte his weies rihteTo come wher sche was be nyhte.Bot al for noght, sche was deceived,For Venus hath hire hope weyved,And schewede hire upon the SkyHow that the day was faste by,So that withinne a litel throweThe daies lyht sche mihte knowe.Tho sche behield the See at large;And whan sche sih ther was no barge830Ne Schip, als ferr as sche may kenne,Doun fro the Tour sche gan to renneInto an Herber all hire one,Wher many a wonder woful moneSche made, that no lif it wiste,As sche which all hire joie miste,That now sche swouneth, now sche pleigneth,And al hire face sche desteignethWith teres, whiche, as of a welleThe stremes, from hire yhen felle;840So as sche mihte and evere in onSche clepede upon Demephon,P. ii. 30And seide, ‘Helas, thou slowe wiht,Wher was ther evere such a knyht,That so thurgh his ungentilesceOf Slowthe and of foryetelnesseAyein his trowthe brak his stevene?’And tho hire yhe up to the heveneSche caste, and seide, ‘O thou unkinde,Hier schalt thou thurgh thi Slowthe finde,850If that thee list to come and se,A ladi ded for love of thee,So as I schal myselve spille;Whom, if it hadde be thi wille,Thou mihtest save wel ynowh.’With that upon a grene bowhA Ceinte of Selk, which sche ther hadde,Sche knette, and so hireself sche ladde,That sche aboute hire whyte swereIt dede, and hyng hirselven there.860Wherof the goddes were amoeved,And Demephon was so reproeved,That of the goddes providenceWas schape such an evidenceEvere afterward ayein the slowe,That Phillis in the same throweWas schape into a Notetre,That alle men it mihte se,And after Phillis PhilliberdThis tre was cleped in the yerd,870And yit for Demephon to schameInto this dai it berth the name.P. ii. 31This wofull chance how that it ferdeAnon as Demephon it herde,And every man it hadde in speche,His sorwe was noght tho to seche;He gan his Slowthe forto banne,Bot it was al to late thanne.Confessor.Lo thus, my Sone, miht thou witeAyein this vice how it is write;880For noman mai the harmes gesse,That fallen thurgh foryetelnesse,Wherof that I thi schrifte have herd.Bot yit of Slowthe hou it hath ferdIn other wise I thenke oppose,If thou have gult, as I suppose.
[Demephon and Phillis.]
King Demephon, whan he be Schipe
To Troieward with felaschipe
Hic in amoris causa contra obliuiosos ponit Confessor exemplum, qualiter Demephon versus bellum Troianum itinerando a Phillide Rodopeie Regina non tantum in hospicium, set eciam in amorem, gaudio magno susceptus est: qui postea ab ipsa1170Troie discedens rediturum infra certum tempus fidelissime se compromisit. Set quia huiusmodi promissionis diem statutum postmodum oblitus est, Phillis obliuionem Demephontis lacrimis primo deplangens, tandem cordula collo suo circumligata in quadam corulo pre dolore se mortuam suspendit.
Sailende goth, upon his weie
It hapneth him at Rodopeie,
As Eolus him hadde blowe,
To londe, and rested for a throwe.
And fell that ilke time thus,
The dowhter of Ligurgius,
Which qweene was of the contre,
Was sojournende in that Cite740
Withinne a Castell nyh the stronde,
Wher Demephon cam up to londe.
Phillis sche hihte, and of yong age
And of stature and of visage
Sche hadde al that hire best besemeth.
Of Demephon riht wel hire qwemeth,
Whan he was come, and made him chiere;
And he, that was of his manere
A lusti knyht, ne myhte asterte
That he ne sette on hire his herte;750
So that withinne a day or tuo
He thoghte, how evere that it go,
P. ii. 27
He wolde assaie the fortune,
And gan his herte to commune
With goodly wordes in hire Ere;
And forto put hire out of fere,
He swor and hath his trowthe pliht
To be for evere hire oghne knyht.
And thus with hire he stille abod,
Ther while his Schip on Anker rod,1171760
And hadde ynowh of time and space
To speke of love and seche grace.
This ladi herde al that he seide,
And hou he swor and hou he preide,
Which was as an enchantement
To hire, that was innocent:1172
As thogh it were trowthe and feith,
Sche lieveth al that evere he seith,
And as hire infortune scholde,
Sche granteth him al that he wolde.770
Thus was he for the time in joie,
Til that he scholde go to Troie;
Bot tho sche made mochel sorwe,
And he his trowthe leith to borwe
To come, if that he live may,
Ayein withinne a Monthe day,
And therupon thei kisten bothe:
Bot were hem lieve or were hem lothe,
To Schipe he goth and forth he wente
To Troie, as was his ferste entente.780
The daies gon, the Monthe passeth,
Hire love encresceth and his lasseth,
P. ii. 28
For him sche lefte slep and mete,
And he his time hath al foryete;
So that this wofull yonge qweene,
Which wot noght what it mihte meene,
A lettre sende and preide him come,
And seith how sche is overcome
With strengthe of love in such a wise,
That sche noght longe mai suffise1173790
To liven out of his presence;
And putte upon his conscience
The trowthe which he hath behote,
Wherof sche loveth him so hote,
Sche seith, that if he lengere lette
Of such a day as sche him sette,
Sche scholde sterven in his Slowthe,1174
Which were a schame unto his trowthe.
This lettre is forth upon hire sonde,
Wherof somdiel confort on honde800
Sche tok, as sche that wolde abide
And waite upon that ilke tyde
Which sche hath in hire lettre write.
Bot now is pite forto wite,
As he dede erst, so he foryat
His time eftsone and oversat.
Bot sche, which mihte noght do so,
The tyde awayteth everemo,
And caste hire yhe upon the See:
Somtime nay, somtime yee,810
Somtime he cam, somtime noght,
Thus sche desputeth in hire thoght
P. ii. 29
And wot noght what sche thenke mai;
Bot fastende al the longe day
Sche was into the derke nyht,
And tho sche hath do set up lyht
In a lanterne on hih alofte
Upon a Tour, wher sche goth ofte,
In hope that in his cominge
He scholde se the liht brenninge,820
Wherof he mihte his weies rihte
To come wher sche was be nyhte.
Bot al for noght, sche was deceived,
For Venus hath hire hope weyved,
And schewede hire upon the Sky
How that the day was faste by,
So that withinne a litel throwe
The daies lyht sche mihte knowe.
Tho sche behield the See at large;
And whan sche sih ther was no barge830
Ne Schip, als ferr as sche may kenne,
Doun fro the Tour sche gan to renne
Into an Herber all hire one,
Wher many a wonder woful mone
Sche made, that no lif it wiste,
As sche which all hire joie miste,
That now sche swouneth, now sche pleigneth,
And al hire face sche desteigneth
With teres, whiche, as of a welle
The stremes, from hire yhen felle;840
So as sche mihte and evere in on
Sche clepede upon Demephon,
P. ii. 30
And seide, ‘Helas, thou slowe wiht,
Wher was ther evere such a knyht,
That so thurgh his ungentilesce
Of Slowthe and of foryetelnesse
Ayein his trowthe brak his stevene?’
And tho hire yhe up to the hevene
Sche caste, and seide, ‘O thou unkinde,
Hier schalt thou thurgh thi Slowthe finde,850
If that thee list to come and se,
A ladi ded for love of thee,
So as I schal myselve spille;
Whom, if it hadde be thi wille,
Thou mihtest save wel ynowh.’
With that upon a grene bowh
A Ceinte of Selk, which sche ther hadde,
Sche knette, and so hireself sche ladde,
That sche aboute hire whyte swere
It dede, and hyng hirselven there.860
Wherof the goddes were amoeved,
And Demephon was so reproeved,
That of the goddes providence
Was schape such an evidence
Evere afterward ayein the slowe,
That Phillis in the same throwe
Was schape into a Notetre,
That alle men it mihte se,
And after Phillis Philliberd
This tre was cleped in the yerd,870
And yit for Demephon to schame
Into this dai it berth the name.
P. ii. 31
This wofull chance how that it ferde
Anon as Demephon it herde,
And every man it hadde in speche,
His sorwe was noght tho to seche;
He gan his Slowthe forto banne,
Bot it was al to late thanne.
Confessor.
Lo thus, my Sone, miht thou wite
Ayein this vice how it is write;880
For noman mai the harmes gesse,
That fallen thurgh foryetelnesse,
Wherof that I thi schrifte have herd.
Bot yit of Slowthe hou it hath ferd
In other wise I thenke oppose,
If thou have gult, as I suppose.
[iv.Negligence.]iv.Dum plantare licet, cultor qui necgligit ortum,Si desint fructus, imputet ipse sibi.Preterit ista dies bona, nec valet illa secunda,Hoc caret exemplo lentus amore suo.1175
[iv.Negligence.]
iv.Dum plantare licet, cultor qui necgligit ortum,
Si desint fructus, imputet ipse sibi.
Preterit ista dies bona, nec valet illa secunda,
Hoc caret exemplo lentus amore suo.1175
Fulfild of Slowthes essamplaireTher is yit on, his Secretaire,And he is cleped Negligence:Hic tractat Confessor de vicio Necgligencie, cuius condicio Accidiam amplectens omnes artes sciencie, tam in amoris causa quam aliter, ignominiosa pretermittens, cum nullum poterit eminere remedium, sui ministerii diligenciam expostfacto in vacuum attemptare presumit.Which wol noght loke his evidence,890Wherof he mai be war tofore;Bot whanne he hath his cause lore,Thanne is he wys after the hond:Whanne helpe may no maner bond,Thanne ate ferste wolde he binde:Thus everemore he stant behinde.Whanne he the thing mai noght amende,Thanne is he war, and seith at ende,P. ii. 32‘Ha, wolde god I hadde knowe!’Wherof bejaped with a mowe900He goth, for whan the grete StiedeIs stole, thanne he taketh hiede,And makth the stable dore fast:Thus evere he pleith an aftercastOf al that he schal seie or do.He hath a manere eke also,Him list noght lerne to be wys,For he set of no vertu prisBot as him liketh for the while;So fieleth he fulofte guile,910Whan that he weneth siker stonde.And thus thou miht wel understonde,Mi Sone, if thou art such in love,Thou miht noght come at thin aboveOf that thou woldest wel achieve.Confessio Amantis.Mi holi fader, as I lieve,I mai wel with sauf conscienceExcuse me of necgligenceTowardes love in alle wise:For thogh I be non of the wise,920I am so trewly amerous,That I am evere curiousOf hem that conne best enformeTo knowe and witen al the forme,What falleth unto loves craft.Bot yit ne fond I noght the haft,Which mihte unto that bladd acorde;1176For nevere herde I man recordeP. ii. 33What thing it is that myhte availeTo winne love withoute faile.930Yit so fer cowthe I nevere findeMan that be resoun ne be kindeMe cowthe teche such an art,That he ne failede of a part;And as toward myn oghne wit,Controeve cowthe I nevere yitTo finden eny sikernesse,That me myhte outher more or lesseOf love make forto spede:For lieveth wel withoute drede,940If that ther were such a weie,As certeinliche as I schal deieI hadde it lerned longe ago.Bot I wot wel ther is non so:And natheles it may wel be,I am so rude in my degreeAnd ek mi wittes ben so dulle,That I ne mai noght to the fulleAtteigne to so hih a lore.Bot this I dar seie overmore,950Althogh mi wit ne be noght strong,It is noght on mi will along,For that is besi nyht and dayTo lerne al that he lerne may,How that I mihte love winne:1177Bot yit I am as to beginneOf that I wolde make an ende,And for I not how it schal wende,P. ii. 34That is to me mi moste sorwe.Bot I dar take god to borwe,960As after min entendement,Non other wise necgligentThanne I yow seie have I noght be:Forthi per seinte chariteTell me, mi fader, what you semeth.Confessor.In good feith, Sone, wel me qwemeth,That thou thiself hast thus aquitToward this vice, in which no wit1178Abide mai, for in an houreHe lest al that he mai laboure970The longe yer, so that men sein,What evere he doth it is in vein.For thurgh the Slowthe of NegligenceTher was yit nevere such science1179Ne vertu, which was bodely,That nys destruid and lost therby.Ensample that it hath be soIn boke I finde write also.
Fulfild of Slowthes essamplaire
Ther is yit on, his Secretaire,
And he is cleped Negligence:
Hic tractat Confessor de vicio Necgligencie, cuius condicio Accidiam amplectens omnes artes sciencie, tam in amoris causa quam aliter, ignominiosa pretermittens, cum nullum poterit eminere remedium, sui ministerii diligenciam expostfacto in vacuum attemptare presumit.
Which wol noght loke his evidence,890
Wherof he mai be war tofore;
Bot whanne he hath his cause lore,
Thanne is he wys after the hond:
Whanne helpe may no maner bond,
Thanne ate ferste wolde he binde:
Thus everemore he stant behinde.
Whanne he the thing mai noght amende,
Thanne is he war, and seith at ende,
P. ii. 32
‘Ha, wolde god I hadde knowe!’
Wherof bejaped with a mowe900
He goth, for whan the grete Stiede
Is stole, thanne he taketh hiede,
And makth the stable dore fast:
Thus evere he pleith an aftercast
Of al that he schal seie or do.
He hath a manere eke also,
Him list noght lerne to be wys,
For he set of no vertu pris
Bot as him liketh for the while;
So fieleth he fulofte guile,910
Whan that he weneth siker stonde.
And thus thou miht wel understonde,
Mi Sone, if thou art such in love,
Thou miht noght come at thin above
Of that thou woldest wel achieve.
Confessio Amantis.
Mi holi fader, as I lieve,
I mai wel with sauf conscience
Excuse me of necgligence
Towardes love in alle wise:
For thogh I be non of the wise,920
I am so trewly amerous,
That I am evere curious
Of hem that conne best enforme
To knowe and witen al the forme,
What falleth unto loves craft.
Bot yit ne fond I noght the haft,
Which mihte unto that bladd acorde;1176
For nevere herde I man recorde
P. ii. 33
What thing it is that myhte availe
To winne love withoute faile.930
Yit so fer cowthe I nevere finde
Man that be resoun ne be kinde
Me cowthe teche such an art,
That he ne failede of a part;
And as toward myn oghne wit,
Controeve cowthe I nevere yit
To finden eny sikernesse,
That me myhte outher more or lesse
Of love make forto spede:
For lieveth wel withoute drede,940
If that ther were such a weie,
As certeinliche as I schal deie
I hadde it lerned longe ago.
Bot I wot wel ther is non so:
And natheles it may wel be,
I am so rude in my degree
And ek mi wittes ben so dulle,
That I ne mai noght to the fulle
Atteigne to so hih a lore.
Bot this I dar seie overmore,950
Althogh mi wit ne be noght strong,
It is noght on mi will along,
For that is besi nyht and day
To lerne al that he lerne may,
How that I mihte love winne:1177
Bot yit I am as to beginne
Of that I wolde make an ende,
And for I not how it schal wende,
P. ii. 34
That is to me mi moste sorwe.
Bot I dar take god to borwe,960
As after min entendement,
Non other wise necgligent
Thanne I yow seie have I noght be:
Forthi per seinte charite
Tell me, mi fader, what you semeth.
Confessor.
In good feith, Sone, wel me qwemeth,
That thou thiself hast thus aquit
Toward this vice, in which no wit1178
Abide mai, for in an houre
He lest al that he mai laboure970
The longe yer, so that men sein,
What evere he doth it is in vein.
For thurgh the Slowthe of Negligence
Ther was yit nevere such science1179
Ne vertu, which was bodely,
That nys destruid and lost therby.
Ensample that it hath be so
In boke I finde write also.
[Tale of Phaeton.]Phebus, which is the Sonne hote,That schyneth upon Erthe hote980And causeth every lyves helthe,Hic contra vicium necgligencie ponit Confessor exemplum; et narrat quod cum1180Pheton filius Solis currum patris sui per aera regere debuerat, admonitus a patre vt equos ne deuiarent equa manu diligencius refrenaret, ipse consilium patris sua negligencia preteriens, equos cum curru nimis basse errare permisit; vnde non solum incendio orbem inflammauit, set et seipsum de curru cadentem in quoddam fluuium demergi ad interitum causauit.He hadde a Sone in al his welthe,Which Pheton hihte, and he desirethAnd with his Moder he conspireth,The which was cleped Clemenee,1181For help and conseil, so that he1182His fader carte lede myhteUpon the faire daies brihte.1183P. ii. 35And for this thing thei bothe preideUnto the fader, and he seide990He wolde wel, bot forth withalThre pointz he bad in specialUnto his Sone in alle wise,That he him scholde wel aviseAnd take it as be weie of lore.Ferst was, that he his hors to soreNe prike, and over that he toldeThat he the renes faste holde;And also that he be riht warIn what manere he lede his charr,1000That he mistake noght his gate,Bot up avisement algate1184He scholde here a siker yhe,That he to lowe ne to hyheHis carte dryve at eny throwe,Wherof that he mihte overthrowe.And thus be Phebus ordinanceTok Pheton into governanceThe Sonnes carte, which he ladde:Bot he such veine gloire hadde1010Of that he was set upon hyh,That he his oghne astat ne syhThurgh negligence and tok non hiede;So mihte he wel noght longe spede.1185For he the hors withoute laweThe carte let aboute draweWher as hem liketh wantounly,That ate laste sodeinly,P. ii. 36For he no reson wolde knowe,This fyri carte he drof to lowe,1020And fyreth al the world aboute;Wherof thei weren alle in doubte,And to the god for helpe cridenOf suche unhappes as betyden.Phebus, which syh the necgligence,How Pheton ayein his defenceHis charr hath drive out of the weie,Ordeigneth that he fell aweieOut of the carte into a flod1186And dreynte. Lo now, hou it stod1030With him that was so necgligent,That fro the hyhe firmament,For that he wolde go to lowe,He was anon doun overthrowe.[Tale of Icarus.]In hih astat it is a vice1187To go to lowe, and in serviceExemplum super eodem de Icharo Dedali filio in carcere Minotauri existente, cui Dedalus, vt inde euolaret, alas componens, firmiter iniunxit ne nimis alte propter Solis ardorem ascenderet: quod Icharus sua negligencia postponens, cum alcius sublimatus fuisset, subito ad terram corruens expirauit.It grieveth forto go to hye,Wherof a tale in poesieI finde, how whilom Dedalus,Which hadde a Sone, and Icharus1040He hihte, and thogh hem thoghte lothe,In such prison thei weren botheWith Minotaurus, that abouteThei mihten nawher wenden oute;So thei begonne forto schapeHow thei the prison mihte ascape.This Dedalus, which fro his yowtheWas tawht and manye craftes cowthe,P. ii. 37Of fetheres and of othre thingesHath mad to fle diverse wynges1050For him and for his Sone also;To whom he yaf in charge thoAnd bad him thenke therupon,How that his wynges ben set onWith wex, and if he toke his flyhteTo hyhe, al sodeinliche he mihteMake it to melte with the Sonne.And thus thei have her flyht begonneOut of the prison faire and softe;And whan thei weren bothe alofte,1060This Icharus began to monte,And of the conseil non accompteHe sette, which his fader tawhte,Til that the Sonne his wynges cawhte,Wherof it malt, and fro the heihteWithouten help of eny sleihteHe fell to his destruccion.And lich to that condicionTher fallen ofte times feleFor lacke of governance in wele,1070Als wel in love as other weie.Amans.Now goode fader, I you preie,If ther be more in the matiere1188Of Slowthe, that I mihte it hiere.1189Confessor.Mi Sone, and for thi diligence,1190Which every mannes conscienceBe resoun scholde reule and kepe,If that thee list to taken kepe,P. ii. 38I wol thee telle, aboven alleIn whom no vertu mai befalle,1080Which yifth unto the vices resteAnd is of slowe the sloweste.1191
[Tale of Phaeton.]
Phebus, which is the Sonne hote,
That schyneth upon Erthe hote980
And causeth every lyves helthe,
Hic contra vicium necgligencie ponit Confessor exemplum; et narrat quod cum1180Pheton filius Solis currum patris sui per aera regere debuerat, admonitus a patre vt equos ne deuiarent equa manu diligencius refrenaret, ipse consilium patris sua negligencia preteriens, equos cum curru nimis basse errare permisit; vnde non solum incendio orbem inflammauit, set et seipsum de curru cadentem in quoddam fluuium demergi ad interitum causauit.
He hadde a Sone in al his welthe,
Which Pheton hihte, and he desireth
And with his Moder he conspireth,
The which was cleped Clemenee,1181
For help and conseil, so that he1182
His fader carte lede myhte
Upon the faire daies brihte.1183
P. ii. 35
And for this thing thei bothe preide
Unto the fader, and he seide990
He wolde wel, bot forth withal
Thre pointz he bad in special
Unto his Sone in alle wise,
That he him scholde wel avise
And take it as be weie of lore.
Ferst was, that he his hors to sore
Ne prike, and over that he tolde
That he the renes faste holde;
And also that he be riht war
In what manere he lede his charr,1000
That he mistake noght his gate,
Bot up avisement algate1184
He scholde here a siker yhe,
That he to lowe ne to hyhe
His carte dryve at eny throwe,
Wherof that he mihte overthrowe.
And thus be Phebus ordinance
Tok Pheton into governance
The Sonnes carte, which he ladde:
Bot he such veine gloire hadde1010
Of that he was set upon hyh,
That he his oghne astat ne syh
Thurgh negligence and tok non hiede;
So mihte he wel noght longe spede.1185
For he the hors withoute lawe
The carte let aboute drawe
Wher as hem liketh wantounly,
That ate laste sodeinly,
P. ii. 36
For he no reson wolde knowe,
This fyri carte he drof to lowe,1020
And fyreth al the world aboute;
Wherof thei weren alle in doubte,
And to the god for helpe criden
Of suche unhappes as betyden.
Phebus, which syh the necgligence,
How Pheton ayein his defence
His charr hath drive out of the weie,
Ordeigneth that he fell aweie
Out of the carte into a flod1186
And dreynte. Lo now, hou it stod1030
With him that was so necgligent,
That fro the hyhe firmament,
For that he wolde go to lowe,
He was anon doun overthrowe.
[Tale of Icarus.]
In hih astat it is a vice1187
To go to lowe, and in service
Exemplum super eodem de Icharo Dedali filio in carcere Minotauri existente, cui Dedalus, vt inde euolaret, alas componens, firmiter iniunxit ne nimis alte propter Solis ardorem ascenderet: quod Icharus sua negligencia postponens, cum alcius sublimatus fuisset, subito ad terram corruens expirauit.
It grieveth forto go to hye,
Wherof a tale in poesie
I finde, how whilom Dedalus,
Which hadde a Sone, and Icharus1040
He hihte, and thogh hem thoghte lothe,
In such prison thei weren bothe
With Minotaurus, that aboute
Thei mihten nawher wenden oute;
So thei begonne forto schape
How thei the prison mihte ascape.
This Dedalus, which fro his yowthe
Was tawht and manye craftes cowthe,
P. ii. 37
Of fetheres and of othre thinges
Hath mad to fle diverse wynges1050
For him and for his Sone also;
To whom he yaf in charge tho
And bad him thenke therupon,
How that his wynges ben set on
With wex, and if he toke his flyhte
To hyhe, al sodeinliche he mihte
Make it to melte with the Sonne.
And thus thei have her flyht begonne
Out of the prison faire and softe;
And whan thei weren bothe alofte,1060
This Icharus began to monte,
And of the conseil non accompte
He sette, which his fader tawhte,
Til that the Sonne his wynges cawhte,
Wherof it malt, and fro the heihte
Withouten help of eny sleihte
He fell to his destruccion.
And lich to that condicion
Ther fallen ofte times fele
For lacke of governance in wele,1070
Als wel in love as other weie.
Amans.
Now goode fader, I you preie,
If ther be more in the matiere1188
Of Slowthe, that I mihte it hiere.1189
Confessor.
Mi Sone, and for thi diligence,1190
Which every mannes conscience
Be resoun scholde reule and kepe,
If that thee list to taken kepe,
P. ii. 38
I wol thee telle, aboven alle
In whom no vertu mai befalle,1080
Which yifth unto the vices reste
And is of slowe the sloweste.1191