[v.Idleness.]v.Absque labore vagus vir inutilis ocia plectens,Nescio quid presens vita valebit ei.Non amor in tali misero viget, immo valorisQui faciunt opera clamat habere suos.Among these othre of Slowthes kinde,Which alle labour set behinde,And hateth alle besinesse,Hic loquitur Confessor super illa specie Accidie, que Ocium dicitur, cuius condicio in virtutum cultura nullius occupacionis diligenciam admittens, cuiuscumque expedicionem cause non attingit.Ther is yit on, which Ydelnesse1192Is cleped, and is the NorriceIn mannes kinde of every vice,Which secheth eases manyfold.In Wynter doth he noght for cold,1090In Somer mai he noght for hete;So whether that he frese or swete,Or he be inne, or he be oute,1193He wol ben ydel al aboute,Bot if he pleie oght ate Dees.1194For who as evere take feesAnd thenkth worschipe to deserve,Ther is no lord whom he wol serve,As forto duelle in his servise,Bot if it were in such a wise,1100Of that he seth per aventureThat be lordschipe and covertureHe mai the more stonde stille,And use his ydelnesse at wille.P. ii. 39For he ne wol no travail takeTo ryde for his ladi sake,Bot liveth al upon his wisshes;And as a cat wolde ete fisshesWithoute wetinge of his cles,So wolde he do, bot natheles1110He faileth ofte of that he wolde.Confessor.Mi Sone, if thou of such a moldeArt mad, now tell me plein thi schrifte.Amans.Nay, fader, god I yive a yifte,That toward love, as be mi wit,Al ydel was I nevere yit,Ne nevere schal, whil I mai go.Confessor.Now, Sone, tell me thanne so,What hast thou don of besischipeTo love and to the ladischipe1120Of hire which thi ladi is?Confessio Amantis.Mi fader, evere yit er thisIn every place, in every stede,What so mi lady hath me bede,With al myn herte obedientI have therto be diligent.And if so is sche bidde noght,What thing that thanne into my thoghtComth ferst of that I mai suffise,I bowe and profre my servise,1130Somtime in chambre, somtime in halle,Riht as I se the times falle.And whan sche goth to hiere masse,1195That time schal noght overpasse,P. ii. 40That I naproche hir ladihede,In aunter if I mai hire ledeUnto the chapelle and ayein.Thanne is noght al mi weie in vein,Somdiel I mai the betre fare,Whan I, that mai noght fiele hir bare,1140Mai lede hire clothed in myn arm:Bot afterward it doth me harmOf pure ymaginacioun;For thanne this collaciounI make unto miselven ofte,And seie, ‘Ha lord, hou sche is softe,How sche is round, hou sche is smal!Now wolde god I hadde hire alWithoute danger at mi wille!’And thanne I sike and sitte stille,1150Of that I se mi besi thoghtIs torned ydel into noght.Bot for al that lete I ne mai,Whanne I se time an other dai,That I ne do my besinesseUnto mi ladi worthinesse.For I therto mi wit afaiteTo se the times and awaiteWhat is to done and what to leve:And so, whan time is, be hir leve,1160What thing sche bit me don, I do,And wher sche bidt me gon, I go,1196And whanne hir list to clepe, I come.Thus hath sche fulliche overcomeP. ii. 41Min ydelnesse til I sterve,So that I mot hire nedes serve,For as men sein, nede hath no lawe.Thus mot I nedly to hire drawe,I serve, I bowe, I loke, I loute,Min yhe folweth hire aboute,1170What so sche wole so wol I,Whan sche wol sitte, I knele by,And whan sche stant, than wol I stonde:Bot whan sche takth hir werk on honde1197Of wevinge or enbrouderie,Than can I noght bot muse and prieUpon hir fingres longe and smale,And now I thenke, and now I tale,And now I singe, and now I sike,And thus mi contienance I pike.1180And if it falle, as for a timeHir liketh noght abide bime,Bot besien hire on other thinges,1198Than make I othre tariingesTo dreche forth the longe dai,For me is loth departe away.And thanne I am so simple of port,That forto feigne som desportI pleie with hire litel houndNow on the bedd, now on the ground,1190Now with hir briddes in the cage;For ther is non so litel page,Ne yit so simple a chamberere,That I ne make hem alle chere,P. ii. 42Al for thei scholde speke wel:Thus mow ye sen mi besi whiel,That goth noght ydeliche aboute.And if hir list to riden outeOn pelrinage or other stede,I come, thogh I be noght bede,1200And take hire in min arm alofteAnd sette hire in hire sadel softe,And so forth lede hire be the bridel,For that I wolde noght ben ydel.And if hire list to ride in Char,And thanne I mai therof be war,Anon I schape me to ryde1199Riht evene be the Chares side;And as I mai, I speke among,And otherwhile I singe a song,1210Which Ovide in his bokes made,And seide, ‘O whiche sorwes glade,1200O which wofull prosperiteBelongeth to the propreteOf love, who so wole him serve!And yit therfro mai noman swerve,That he ne mot his lawe obeie.’And thus I ryde forth mi weie,And am riht besi overalWith herte and with mi body al,1220As I have said you hier tofore.My goode fader, tell therfore,Of Ydelnesse if I have gilt.Confessor.Mi Sone, bot thou telle wilt1201P. ii. 43Oght elles than I mai now hiere,Thou schalt have no penance hiere.And natheles a man mai se,How now adayes that ther beFul manye of suche hertes slowe,That wol noght besien hem to knowe1230What thing love is, til ate laste,That he with strengthe hem overcaste,That malgre hem thei mote obeieAnd don al ydelschipe aweie,To serve wel and besiliche.Bot, Sone, thou art non of swiche,For love schal the wel excuse:Bot otherwise, if thou refuseTo love, thou miht so per casBen ydel, as somtime was1240A kinges dowhter unavised,Til that Cupide hire hath chastised:Wherof thou schalt a tale hiereAcordant unto this matiere.[Tale of Rosiphelee.]Of Armenye, I rede thus,Ther was a king, which HerupusWas hote, and he a lusti MaideHic ponit Confessor exemplum contra istos qui amoris1202occupacionem omittentes, grauioris infortunii casus expectant.1203Et narrat de quadam Armenie Regis filia, que huiusmodi condicionis in principio iuuentutis ociosa persistens, mirabili postea visione castigata in amoris obsequium pre ceteris diligencior1204efficitur.To dowhter hadde, and as men saideHire name was Rosiphelee;Which tho was of gret renomee,1250For sche was bothe wys and fairAnd scholde ben hire fader hair.Bot sche hadde o defalte of SlowtheTowardes love, and that was rowthe;P. ii. 44For so wel cowde noman seie,Which mihte sette hire in the weieOf loves occupacionThurgh non ymaginacion;That scole wolde sche noght knowe.And thus sche was on of the slowe1260As of such hertes besinesse,Til whanne Venus the goddesse,Which loves court hath forto reule,Hath broght hire into betre reule,Forth with Cupide and with his miht:For thei merveille how such a wiht,1205Which tho was in hir lusti age,Desireth nother MariageNe yit the love of paramours,Which evere hath be the comun cours1270Amonges hem that lusti were.So was it schewed after there:1206For he that hihe hertes lowethWith fyri Dartes whiche he throweth,Cupide, which of love is godd,1207In chastisinge hath mad a roddTo dryve awei hir wantounesse;So that withinne a while, I gesse,Sche hadde on such a chance sporned,That al hire mod was overtorned,1280Which ferst sche hadde of slow manere:For thus it fell, as thou schalt hiere.Whan come was the Monthe of Maii,Sche wolde walke upon a dai,P. ii. 45And that was er the Sonne Ariste;Of wommen bot a fewe it wiste,And forth sche wente privelyUnto the Park was faste by,Al softe walkende on the gras,Til sche cam ther the Launde was,1290Thurgh which ther ran a gret rivere.It thoghte hir fair, and seide, ‘HereI wole abide under the schawe’:And bad hire wommen to withdrawe,And ther sche stod al one stille,To thenke what was in hir wille.Sche sih the swote floures springe,Sche herde glade foules singe,Sche sih the bestes in her kinde,The buck, the do, the hert, the hinde,1300The madle go with the femele;And so began ther a quereleBetwen love and hir oghne herte,Fro which sche couthe noght asterte.And as sche caste hire yhe aboute,Sche syh clad in o suite a routeOf ladis, wher thei comen rydeAlong under the wodes syde:On faire amblende hors thei sete,That were al whyte, fatte and grete,12081310And everichon thei ride on side.The Sadles were of such a Pride,With Perle and gold so wel begon,So riche syh sche nevere non;P. ii. 46In kertles and in Copes richeThei weren clothed, alle liche,Departed evene of whyt and blew;With alle lustes that sche knewThei were enbrouded overal.Here bodies weren long and smal,1320The beaute faye upon her face1209Non erthly thing it may desface;Corones on here hed thei beere,As ech of hem a qweene weere,That al the gold of Cresus halleThe leste coronal of alleNe mihte have boght after the worth:Thus come thei ridende forth.The kinges dowhter, which this syh,For pure abaissht drowh hire adryh1330And hield hire clos under the bowh,And let hem passen stille ynowh;For as hire thoghte in hire avis,To hem that were of such a prisSche was noght worthi axen there,Fro when they come or what thei were:Bot levere than this worldes goodSche wolde have wist hou that it stod,And putte hire hed alitel oute;And as sche lokede hire aboute,1340Sche syh comende under the linde1210A womman up an hors behinde.1211The hors on which sche rod was blak,Al lene and galled on the back,P. ii. 47And haltede, as he were encluyed,Wherof the womman was annuied;Thus was the hors in sori plit,Bot for al that a sterre whit1212Amiddes in the front he hadde.Hir Sadel ek was wonder badde,1350In which the wofull womman sat,And natheles ther was with thatA riche bridel for the nonesOf gold and preciouse Stones.Hire cote was somdiel totore;Aboute hir middel twenty scoreOf horse haltres and wel moTher hyngen ate time tho.Thus whan sche cam the ladi nyh,Than tok sche betre hiede and syh1360This womman fair was of visage,1213Freyssh, lusti, yong and of tendre age;And so this ladi, ther sche stod,Bethoghte hire wel and understodThat this, which com ridende tho,Tidinges couthe telle of tho,Which as sche sih tofore ryde,1214And putte hir forth and preide abide,And seide, ‘Ha, Suster, let me hiere,What ben thei, that now riden hiere,1370And ben so richeliche arraied?’This womman, which com so esmaied,Ansuerde with ful softe speche,And seith, ‘Ma Dame, I schal you teche.P. ii. 48These ar of tho that whilom wereServantz to love, and trowthe beere,Ther as thei hadde here herte set.Fare wel, for I mai noght be let:Ma Dame, I go to mi servise,So moste I haste in alle wise;1380Forthi, ma Dame, yif me leve,I mai noght longe with you leve.’‘Ha, goode Soster, yit I preie,Tell me whi ye ben so beseieAnd with these haltres thus begon.’‘Ma Dame, whilom I was onThat to mi fader hadde a king;Bot I was slow, and for no thingMe liste noght to love obeie,And that I now ful sore abeie.1390For I whilom no love hadde,Min hors is now so fieble and badde,And al totore is myn arai,1215And every yeer this freisshe MaiiThese lusti ladis ryde aboute,And I mot nedes suie here routeIn this manere as ye now se,1216And trusse here haltres forth with me,And am bot as here horse knave.Non other office I ne have,1400Hem thenkth I am worthi nomore,For I was slow in loves lore,Whan I was able forto lere,And wolde noght the tales hiereP. ii. 49Of hem that couthen love teche.’‘Now tell me thanne, I you beseche,Wherof that riche bridel serveth.’With that hire chere awei sche swerveth,And gan to wepe, and thus sche tolde:‘This bridel, which ye nou beholde1410So riche upon myn horse hed,—Ma Dame, afore, er I was ded,Whan I was in mi lusti lif,Ther fel into myn herte a strifOf love, which me overcom,So that therafter hiede I nomAnd thoghte I wolde love a kniht:That laste wel a fourtenyht,For it no lengere mihte laste,1217So nyh my lif was ate laste.1420Bot now, allas, to late warThat I ne hadde him loved ar:For deth cam so in haste bime,Er I therto hadde eny time,That it ne mihte ben achieved.Bot for al that I am relieved,Of that mi will was good therto,That love soffreth it be soThat I schal swiche a bridel were.Now have ye herd al myn ansuere:1430To godd, ma Dame, I you betake,And warneth alle for mi sake,Of love that thei ben noght ydel,And bidd hem thenke upon mi brydel.’P. ii. 50And with that word al sodeinlySche passeth, as it were a Sky,Al clene out of this ladi sihte:And tho for fere hire herte afflihte,And seide to hirself, ‘Helas!I am riht in the same cas.1440Bot if I live after this day,I schal amende it, if I may.’And thus homward this lady wente,And changede al hire ferste entente,Withinne hire herte and gan to swereThat sche none haltres wolde bere.Confessor.Lo, Sone, hier miht thou taken hiede,How ydelnesse is forto drede,Namliche of love, as I have write.For thou miht understonde and wite,1450Among the gentil nacionLove is an occupacion,Which forto kepe hise lustes saveNon quia sic se habet veritas, set opinio Amantum.1218Scholde every gentil herte have:For as the ladi was chastised,Riht so the knyht mai ben avised,Which ydel is and wol noght serveTo love, he mai per cas deserveA grettere peine than sche hadde,Whan sche aboute with hire ladde1460The horse haltres; and forthiGood is to be wel war therbi.Bot forto loke aboven alle,[Idleness in Love.]These Maidens, hou so that it falle,P. ii. 51Thei scholden take ensample of thisWhich I have told, for soth it is.Mi ladi Venus, whom I serve,What womman wole hire thonk deserve,Sche mai noght thilke love eschuieOf paramours, bot sche mot suie1470Cupides lawe; and nathelesMen sen such love sielde in pes,That it nys evere upon aspieOf janglinge and of fals Envie,Fulofte medlid with disese:Bot thilke love is wel at ese,Which set is upon mariage;For that dar schewen the visageIn alle places openly.A gret mervaile it is forthi,1480How that a Maiden wolde lette,That sche hir time ne besetteTo haste unto that ilke feste,Wherof the love is al honeste.Men mai recovere lost of good,Bot so wys man yit nevere stod,Which mai recovere time lore:So mai a Maiden wel therforeEnsample take, of that sche strangethHir love, and longe er that sche changeth1490Hir herte upon hir lustes greeneTo mariage, as it is seene.For thus a yer or tuo or threSche lest, er that sche wedded be,P. ii. 52Whyl sche the charge myhte bereOf children, whiche the world forbereNe mai, bot if it scholde faile.Bot what Maiden hire esposaileWol tarie, whan sche take mai,Sche schal per chance an other dai1500Be let, whan that hire lievest were.1219Wherof a tale unto hire Ere,Which is coupable upon this dede,I thenke telle of that I rede.[Tale of Jephthah’s Daughter.]Among the Jewes, as men tolde,Ther was whilom be daies oldeA noble Duck, which Jepte hihte.1220Hic ponit exemplum super eodem: Et narrat de filia Iepte, que cum ex sui patris voto in holocaustum deo occidi et offerri deberet, ipsa pro eo quod virgo fuit et prolem ad augmentacionem populi dei nondum genuisset, xl. dierum spacium vt cum suis sodalibus virginibus suam defleret virginitatem, priusquam moreretur, in exemplum aliarum1221a patre postulauit.And fell, he scholde go to fyhteAyein Amon the cruel king:And forto speke upon this thing,1510Withinne his herte he made avou1222To god and seide, ‘Ha lord, if thouWolt grante unto thi man victoire,I schal in tokne of thi memoireThe ferste lif that I mai se,Of man or womman wher it be,Anon as I come hom ayein,To thee, which art god sovereign,Slen in thi name and sacrifie.’And thus with his chivalerie1520He goth him forth, wher that he scholde,1223And wan al that he winne woldeAnd overcam his fomen alle.Mai noman lette that schal falle.P. ii. 53This Duc a lusti dowhter hadde,1224And fame, which the wordes spradde,Hath broght unto this ladi EreHow that hire fader hath do there.Sche waiteth upon his comingeWith dansinge and with carolinge,1530As sche that wolde be toforeAl othre, and so sche was therfore1225In Masphat at hir fader gateThe ferste; and whan he com therate,And sih his douhter, he tobreideHise clothes and wepende he seide:‘O mihti god among ous hiere,Nou wot I that in no manereThis worldes joie mai be plein.I hadde al that I coude sein1540Ayein mi fomen be thi grace,1226So whan I cam toward this placeTher was non gladdere man than I:1227But now, mi lord, al sodeinliMi joie is torned into sorwe,For I mi dowhter schal tomorweTohewe and brenne in thi serviseTo loenge of thi sacrifiseThurgh min avou, so as it is.’The Maiden, whan sche wiste of this,1550And sih the sorwe hir fader made,So as sche mai with wordes gladeConforteth him, and bad him holdeThe covenant which he is holdeP. ii. 54Towardes god, as he behihte.1228Bot natheles hire herte aflihteOf that sche sih hire deth comende;And thanne unto the ground knelende1229Tofore hir fader sche is falle,And seith, so as it is befalle1560Upon this point that sche schal deie,Of o thing ferst sche wolde him preie,That fourty daies of respitHe wolde hir grante upon this plit,That sche the whyle mai bewepeHir maidenhod, which sche to kepeSo longe hath had and noght beset;1230Wherof her lusti youthe is let,That sche no children hath forthdraweIn Mariage after the lawe,1570So that the poeple is noght encressed.Bot that it mihte be relessed,That sche hir time hath lore so,Sche wolde be his leve goWith othre Maidens to compleigne,And afterward unto the peineOf deth sche wolde come ayein.The fader herde his douhter sein,And therupon of on assentThe Maidens were anon asent,1580That scholden with this Maiden wende.So forto speke unto this ende,Thei gon the dounes and the dalesWith wepinge and with wofull tales,P. ii. 55And every wyht hire maidenhiedeCompleigneth upon thilke nede,That sche no children hadde bore,Wherof sche hath hir youthe lore,Which nevere sche recovere mai:For so fell that hir laste dai1590Was come, in which sche scholde takeHir deth, which sche may noght forsake.Lo, thus sche deiede a wofull MaideFor thilke cause which I saide,As thou hast understonde above.Amans.Mi fader, as toward the LoveOf Maidens forto telle trowthe,Ye have thilke vice of Slowthe,Me thenkth, riht wonder wel declared,That ye the wommen have noght spared1600Of hem that tarien so behinde.Bot yit it falleth in my minde,Toward the men hou that ye spiekeOf hem that wole no travail siekeIn cause of love upon decerte:To speke in wordes so coverte,I not what travaill that ye mente.Confessor.Mi Sone, and after min ententeI woll thee telle what I thoghte,Hou whilom men here loves boghte1610Thurgh gret travaill in strange londes,Wher that thei wroghten with here hondesOf armes many a worthi dede,In sondri place as men mai rede.P. ii. 56vi.Quem probat armorum probitas Venus approbat, et quem[Lovers must approve themselves in arms.]Torpor habet reprobum reprobat illa virum.Vecors segnicies insignia nescit amoris,Nam piger ad brauium tardius ipse venit.That every love of pure kindeIs ferst forthdrawe, wel I finde:Bot natheles yit overthisDecerte doth so that it isHic loquitur quod in amoris causa milicie probitas ad armorum laboris excercicium nullatenus1231torpescat.The rather had in mani place.Forthi who secheth loves grace,1620Wher that these worthi wommen are,He mai noght thanne himselve spareUpon his travail forto serve,Wherof that he mai thonk deserve,There as these men of Armes be,1232Somtime over the grete Se:So that be londe and ek be SchipeHe mot travaile for worschipeAnd make manye hastyf rodes,Somtime in Prus, somtime in Rodes,1630And somtime into Tartarie;So that these heraldz on him crie,‘Vailant, vailant, lo, wher he goth!’And thanne he yifth hem gold and cloth,So that his fame mihte springe,And to his ladi Ere bringeSom tidinge of his worthinesse;1233So that sche mihte of his prouesceOf that sche herde men recorde,The betre unto his love acorde12341640And danger pute out of hire mod,Whanne alle men recorden good,P. ii. 57And that sche wot wel, for hir sakeThat he no travail wol forsake.Confessor.Mi Sone, of this travail I meene:Nou schrif thee, for it schal be seneIf thou art ydel in this cas.Confessio Amantis.My fader ye, and evere was:[Arguments to the Contrary.]For as me thenketh trewelyThat every man doth mor than I1650As of this point, and if so isThat I have oght so don er this,It is so litel ofacompte,As who seith, it mai noght amonteTo winne of love his lusti yifte.For this I telle you in schrifte,That me were levere hir love winneThan Kaire and al that is ther inne:And forto slen the hethen alle,I not what good ther mihte falle,1660So mochel blod thogh ther be schad.This finde I writen, hou Crist badThat noman other scholde sle.What scholde I winne over the Se,If I mi ladi loste at hom?Bot passe thei the salte fom,To whom Crist bad thei scholden precheToal the world and his feith teche:Bot now thei rucken in here nestAnd resten as hem liketh best12351670In all the swetnesse of delices.Thus thei defenden ous the vices,P. ii. 58And sitte hemselven al amidde;To slen and feihten thei ous biddeHem whom thei scholde, as the bok seith,Converten unto Cristes feith.Bot hierof have I gret mervaile,Hou thei wol bidde me travaile:A Sarazin if I sle schal,I sle the Soule forth withal,1680And that was nevere Cristes lore.Bot nou ho ther, I seie nomore.Bot I wol speke upon mi schrifte;And to Cupide I make a yifte,That who as evere pris deserveOf armes, I wol love serve;And thogh I scholde hem bothe kepe,Als wel yit wolde I take kepeWhan it were time to abide,As forto travaile and to ryde:12361690For how as evere a man laboure,Cupide appointed hath his houre.Hic allegat Amans in sui excusacionem, qualiter Achilles apud Troiam propter amorem Polixenen arma sua per aliquod tempus dimisit.For I have herd it telle also,1237Achilles lefte hise armes soBothe of himself and of his menAt Troie for Polixenen,Upon hire love whanne he fell,That for no chance that befellAmong the Grecs or up or doun,He wolde noght ayein the toun1700Ben armed, for the love of hire.1238And so me thenketh, lieve Sire,P. ii. 59A man of armes mai him resteSomtime in hope for the beste,If he mai finde a weie nerr.1239What scholde I thanne go so ferr1240In strange londes many a mileTo ryde, and lese at hom therwhile1241Mi love? It were a schort beyeteTo winne chaf and lese whete.1710Bot if mi ladi bidde wolde,That I for hire love scholdeTravaile, me thenkth trewelyI mihte fle thurghout the Sky,And go thurghout the depe Se,For al ne sette I at a streWhat thonk that I mihte elles gete.What helpeth it a man have mete,Wher drinke lacketh on the bord?What helpeth eny mannes word1720To seie hou I travaile faste,Wher as me faileth ate lasteThat thing which I travaile fore?O in good time were he bore,That mihte atteigne such a mede.Bot certes if I mihte spedeWith eny maner besinesseOf worldes travail, thanne I gesse,Ther scholde me non ydelschipeDeparten fro hir ladischipe.1730Bot this I se, on daies nouThe blinde god, I wot noght hou,P. ii. 60Cupido, which of love is lord,He set the thinges in discord,That thei that lest to love entendeFulofte he wole hem yive and sendeMost of his grace; and thus I findeThat he that scholde go behinde,1242Goth many a time ferr tofore:So wot I noght riht wel therfore,12431740On whether bord that I schal seile.Thus can I noght miself conseile,Bot al I sette on aventure,And am, as who seith, out of cureFor ought that I can seie or do:For everemore I finde it so,The more besinesse I leie,The more that I knele and preieWith goode wordes and with softe,The more I am refused ofte,1750With besinesse and mai noght winne.And in good feith that is gret Sinne;1244For I mai seie, of dede and thoghtThat ydel man have I be noght;For hou as evere I be deslaied,Yit evermore I have assaied.Bot thogh my besinesse laste,Al is bot ydel ate laste,For whan theffect is ydelnesse,I not what thing is besinesse.1760Sei, what availeth al the dede,Which nothing helpeth ate nede?P. ii. 61For the fortune of every fameSchal of his ende bere a name.And thus for oght is yit befalle,An ydel man I wol me calleAs after myn entendement:Bot upon youre amendement,[The Confessor replies.]Min holi fader, as you semeth,1245Mi reson and my cause demeth.1770Confessor.Mi Sone, I have herd thi matiere,Of that thou hast thee schriven hiere:And forto speke of ydel fare,Me semeth that thou tharst noght care,Bot only that thou miht noght spede.And therof, Sone, I wol thee rede,Abyd, and haste noght to faste;Thi dees ben every dai to caste,Thou nost what chance schal betyde.Betre is to wayte upon the tyde12461780Than rowe ayein the stremes stronge:For thogh so be thee thenketh longe,Per cas the revolucionOf hevene and thi condicionNe be noght yit of on acord.Bot I dar make this recordTo Venus, whos Prest that I am,That sithen that I hidir camTo hiere, as sche me bad, thi lif,Wherof thou elles be gultif,1790Thou miht hierof thi conscienceExcuse, and of gret diligence,P. ii. 62Which thou to love hast so despended,Thou oghtest wel to be comended.Bot if so be that ther oght faile,Of that thou slowthest to travaileIn armes forto ben absent,And for thou makst an argumentOf that thou seidest hiere above,Hou Achilles thurgh strengthe of love1800Hise armes lefte for a throwe,Thou schalt an other tale knowe,Which is contraire, as thou schalt wite.For this a man mai finde write,Whan that knyhthode schal be werred,1247Lust mai noght thanne be preferred;The bedd mot thanne be forsakeAnd Schield and spere on honde take,Which thing schal make hem after glade,Whan thei ben worthi knihtes made.1810Wherof, so as it comth to honde,A tale thou schalt understonde,Hou that a kniht schal armes suie,And for the while his ese eschuie.
[v.Idleness.]v.Absque labore vagus vir inutilis ocia plectens,Nescio quid presens vita valebit ei.Non amor in tali misero viget, immo valorisQui faciunt opera clamat habere suos.Among these othre of Slowthes kinde,Which alle labour set behinde,And hateth alle besinesse,Hic loquitur Confessor super illa specie Accidie, que Ocium dicitur, cuius condicio in virtutum cultura nullius occupacionis diligenciam admittens, cuiuscumque expedicionem cause non attingit.Ther is yit on, which Ydelnesse1192Is cleped, and is the NorriceIn mannes kinde of every vice,Which secheth eases manyfold.In Wynter doth he noght for cold,1090In Somer mai he noght for hete;So whether that he frese or swete,Or he be inne, or he be oute,1193He wol ben ydel al aboute,Bot if he pleie oght ate Dees.1194For who as evere take feesAnd thenkth worschipe to deserve,Ther is no lord whom he wol serve,As forto duelle in his servise,Bot if it were in such a wise,1100Of that he seth per aventureThat be lordschipe and covertureHe mai the more stonde stille,And use his ydelnesse at wille.P. ii. 39For he ne wol no travail takeTo ryde for his ladi sake,Bot liveth al upon his wisshes;And as a cat wolde ete fisshesWithoute wetinge of his cles,So wolde he do, bot natheles1110He faileth ofte of that he wolde.Confessor.Mi Sone, if thou of such a moldeArt mad, now tell me plein thi schrifte.Amans.Nay, fader, god I yive a yifte,That toward love, as be mi wit,Al ydel was I nevere yit,Ne nevere schal, whil I mai go.Confessor.Now, Sone, tell me thanne so,What hast thou don of besischipeTo love and to the ladischipe1120Of hire which thi ladi is?Confessio Amantis.Mi fader, evere yit er thisIn every place, in every stede,What so mi lady hath me bede,With al myn herte obedientI have therto be diligent.And if so is sche bidde noght,What thing that thanne into my thoghtComth ferst of that I mai suffise,I bowe and profre my servise,1130Somtime in chambre, somtime in halle,Riht as I se the times falle.And whan sche goth to hiere masse,1195That time schal noght overpasse,P. ii. 40That I naproche hir ladihede,In aunter if I mai hire ledeUnto the chapelle and ayein.Thanne is noght al mi weie in vein,Somdiel I mai the betre fare,Whan I, that mai noght fiele hir bare,1140Mai lede hire clothed in myn arm:Bot afterward it doth me harmOf pure ymaginacioun;For thanne this collaciounI make unto miselven ofte,And seie, ‘Ha lord, hou sche is softe,How sche is round, hou sche is smal!Now wolde god I hadde hire alWithoute danger at mi wille!’And thanne I sike and sitte stille,1150Of that I se mi besi thoghtIs torned ydel into noght.Bot for al that lete I ne mai,Whanne I se time an other dai,That I ne do my besinesseUnto mi ladi worthinesse.For I therto mi wit afaiteTo se the times and awaiteWhat is to done and what to leve:And so, whan time is, be hir leve,1160What thing sche bit me don, I do,And wher sche bidt me gon, I go,1196And whanne hir list to clepe, I come.Thus hath sche fulliche overcomeP. ii. 41Min ydelnesse til I sterve,So that I mot hire nedes serve,For as men sein, nede hath no lawe.Thus mot I nedly to hire drawe,I serve, I bowe, I loke, I loute,Min yhe folweth hire aboute,1170What so sche wole so wol I,Whan sche wol sitte, I knele by,And whan sche stant, than wol I stonde:Bot whan sche takth hir werk on honde1197Of wevinge or enbrouderie,Than can I noght bot muse and prieUpon hir fingres longe and smale,And now I thenke, and now I tale,And now I singe, and now I sike,And thus mi contienance I pike.1180And if it falle, as for a timeHir liketh noght abide bime,Bot besien hire on other thinges,1198Than make I othre tariingesTo dreche forth the longe dai,For me is loth departe away.And thanne I am so simple of port,That forto feigne som desportI pleie with hire litel houndNow on the bedd, now on the ground,1190Now with hir briddes in the cage;For ther is non so litel page,Ne yit so simple a chamberere,That I ne make hem alle chere,P. ii. 42Al for thei scholde speke wel:Thus mow ye sen mi besi whiel,That goth noght ydeliche aboute.And if hir list to riden outeOn pelrinage or other stede,I come, thogh I be noght bede,1200And take hire in min arm alofteAnd sette hire in hire sadel softe,And so forth lede hire be the bridel,For that I wolde noght ben ydel.And if hire list to ride in Char,And thanne I mai therof be war,Anon I schape me to ryde1199Riht evene be the Chares side;And as I mai, I speke among,And otherwhile I singe a song,1210Which Ovide in his bokes made,And seide, ‘O whiche sorwes glade,1200O which wofull prosperiteBelongeth to the propreteOf love, who so wole him serve!And yit therfro mai noman swerve,That he ne mot his lawe obeie.’And thus I ryde forth mi weie,And am riht besi overalWith herte and with mi body al,1220As I have said you hier tofore.My goode fader, tell therfore,Of Ydelnesse if I have gilt.Confessor.Mi Sone, bot thou telle wilt1201P. ii. 43Oght elles than I mai now hiere,Thou schalt have no penance hiere.And natheles a man mai se,How now adayes that ther beFul manye of suche hertes slowe,That wol noght besien hem to knowe1230What thing love is, til ate laste,That he with strengthe hem overcaste,That malgre hem thei mote obeieAnd don al ydelschipe aweie,To serve wel and besiliche.Bot, Sone, thou art non of swiche,For love schal the wel excuse:Bot otherwise, if thou refuseTo love, thou miht so per casBen ydel, as somtime was1240A kinges dowhter unavised,Til that Cupide hire hath chastised:Wherof thou schalt a tale hiereAcordant unto this matiere.[Tale of Rosiphelee.]Of Armenye, I rede thus,Ther was a king, which HerupusWas hote, and he a lusti MaideHic ponit Confessor exemplum contra istos qui amoris1202occupacionem omittentes, grauioris infortunii casus expectant.1203Et narrat de quadam Armenie Regis filia, que huiusmodi condicionis in principio iuuentutis ociosa persistens, mirabili postea visione castigata in amoris obsequium pre ceteris diligencior1204efficitur.To dowhter hadde, and as men saideHire name was Rosiphelee;Which tho was of gret renomee,1250For sche was bothe wys and fairAnd scholde ben hire fader hair.Bot sche hadde o defalte of SlowtheTowardes love, and that was rowthe;P. ii. 44For so wel cowde noman seie,Which mihte sette hire in the weieOf loves occupacionThurgh non ymaginacion;That scole wolde sche noght knowe.And thus sche was on of the slowe1260As of such hertes besinesse,Til whanne Venus the goddesse,Which loves court hath forto reule,Hath broght hire into betre reule,Forth with Cupide and with his miht:For thei merveille how such a wiht,1205Which tho was in hir lusti age,Desireth nother MariageNe yit the love of paramours,Which evere hath be the comun cours1270Amonges hem that lusti were.So was it schewed after there:1206For he that hihe hertes lowethWith fyri Dartes whiche he throweth,Cupide, which of love is godd,1207In chastisinge hath mad a roddTo dryve awei hir wantounesse;So that withinne a while, I gesse,Sche hadde on such a chance sporned,That al hire mod was overtorned,1280Which ferst sche hadde of slow manere:For thus it fell, as thou schalt hiere.Whan come was the Monthe of Maii,Sche wolde walke upon a dai,P. ii. 45And that was er the Sonne Ariste;Of wommen bot a fewe it wiste,And forth sche wente privelyUnto the Park was faste by,Al softe walkende on the gras,Til sche cam ther the Launde was,1290Thurgh which ther ran a gret rivere.It thoghte hir fair, and seide, ‘HereI wole abide under the schawe’:And bad hire wommen to withdrawe,And ther sche stod al one stille,To thenke what was in hir wille.Sche sih the swote floures springe,Sche herde glade foules singe,Sche sih the bestes in her kinde,The buck, the do, the hert, the hinde,1300The madle go with the femele;And so began ther a quereleBetwen love and hir oghne herte,Fro which sche couthe noght asterte.And as sche caste hire yhe aboute,Sche syh clad in o suite a routeOf ladis, wher thei comen rydeAlong under the wodes syde:On faire amblende hors thei sete,That were al whyte, fatte and grete,12081310And everichon thei ride on side.The Sadles were of such a Pride,With Perle and gold so wel begon,So riche syh sche nevere non;P. ii. 46In kertles and in Copes richeThei weren clothed, alle liche,Departed evene of whyt and blew;With alle lustes that sche knewThei were enbrouded overal.Here bodies weren long and smal,1320The beaute faye upon her face1209Non erthly thing it may desface;Corones on here hed thei beere,As ech of hem a qweene weere,That al the gold of Cresus halleThe leste coronal of alleNe mihte have boght after the worth:Thus come thei ridende forth.The kinges dowhter, which this syh,For pure abaissht drowh hire adryh1330And hield hire clos under the bowh,And let hem passen stille ynowh;For as hire thoghte in hire avis,To hem that were of such a prisSche was noght worthi axen there,Fro when they come or what thei were:Bot levere than this worldes goodSche wolde have wist hou that it stod,And putte hire hed alitel oute;And as sche lokede hire aboute,1340Sche syh comende under the linde1210A womman up an hors behinde.1211The hors on which sche rod was blak,Al lene and galled on the back,P. ii. 47And haltede, as he were encluyed,Wherof the womman was annuied;Thus was the hors in sori plit,Bot for al that a sterre whit1212Amiddes in the front he hadde.Hir Sadel ek was wonder badde,1350In which the wofull womman sat,And natheles ther was with thatA riche bridel for the nonesOf gold and preciouse Stones.Hire cote was somdiel totore;Aboute hir middel twenty scoreOf horse haltres and wel moTher hyngen ate time tho.Thus whan sche cam the ladi nyh,Than tok sche betre hiede and syh1360This womman fair was of visage,1213Freyssh, lusti, yong and of tendre age;And so this ladi, ther sche stod,Bethoghte hire wel and understodThat this, which com ridende tho,Tidinges couthe telle of tho,Which as sche sih tofore ryde,1214And putte hir forth and preide abide,And seide, ‘Ha, Suster, let me hiere,What ben thei, that now riden hiere,1370And ben so richeliche arraied?’This womman, which com so esmaied,Ansuerde with ful softe speche,And seith, ‘Ma Dame, I schal you teche.P. ii. 48These ar of tho that whilom wereServantz to love, and trowthe beere,Ther as thei hadde here herte set.Fare wel, for I mai noght be let:Ma Dame, I go to mi servise,So moste I haste in alle wise;1380Forthi, ma Dame, yif me leve,I mai noght longe with you leve.’‘Ha, goode Soster, yit I preie,Tell me whi ye ben so beseieAnd with these haltres thus begon.’‘Ma Dame, whilom I was onThat to mi fader hadde a king;Bot I was slow, and for no thingMe liste noght to love obeie,And that I now ful sore abeie.1390For I whilom no love hadde,Min hors is now so fieble and badde,And al totore is myn arai,1215And every yeer this freisshe MaiiThese lusti ladis ryde aboute,And I mot nedes suie here routeIn this manere as ye now se,1216And trusse here haltres forth with me,And am bot as here horse knave.Non other office I ne have,1400Hem thenkth I am worthi nomore,For I was slow in loves lore,Whan I was able forto lere,And wolde noght the tales hiereP. ii. 49Of hem that couthen love teche.’‘Now tell me thanne, I you beseche,Wherof that riche bridel serveth.’With that hire chere awei sche swerveth,And gan to wepe, and thus sche tolde:‘This bridel, which ye nou beholde1410So riche upon myn horse hed,—Ma Dame, afore, er I was ded,Whan I was in mi lusti lif,Ther fel into myn herte a strifOf love, which me overcom,So that therafter hiede I nomAnd thoghte I wolde love a kniht:That laste wel a fourtenyht,For it no lengere mihte laste,1217So nyh my lif was ate laste.1420Bot now, allas, to late warThat I ne hadde him loved ar:For deth cam so in haste bime,Er I therto hadde eny time,That it ne mihte ben achieved.Bot for al that I am relieved,Of that mi will was good therto,That love soffreth it be soThat I schal swiche a bridel were.Now have ye herd al myn ansuere:1430To godd, ma Dame, I you betake,And warneth alle for mi sake,Of love that thei ben noght ydel,And bidd hem thenke upon mi brydel.’P. ii. 50And with that word al sodeinlySche passeth, as it were a Sky,Al clene out of this ladi sihte:And tho for fere hire herte afflihte,And seide to hirself, ‘Helas!I am riht in the same cas.1440Bot if I live after this day,I schal amende it, if I may.’And thus homward this lady wente,And changede al hire ferste entente,Withinne hire herte and gan to swereThat sche none haltres wolde bere.Confessor.Lo, Sone, hier miht thou taken hiede,How ydelnesse is forto drede,Namliche of love, as I have write.For thou miht understonde and wite,1450Among the gentil nacionLove is an occupacion,Which forto kepe hise lustes saveNon quia sic se habet veritas, set opinio Amantum.1218Scholde every gentil herte have:For as the ladi was chastised,Riht so the knyht mai ben avised,Which ydel is and wol noght serveTo love, he mai per cas deserveA grettere peine than sche hadde,Whan sche aboute with hire ladde1460The horse haltres; and forthiGood is to be wel war therbi.Bot forto loke aboven alle,[Idleness in Love.]These Maidens, hou so that it falle,P. ii. 51Thei scholden take ensample of thisWhich I have told, for soth it is.Mi ladi Venus, whom I serve,What womman wole hire thonk deserve,Sche mai noght thilke love eschuieOf paramours, bot sche mot suie1470Cupides lawe; and nathelesMen sen such love sielde in pes,That it nys evere upon aspieOf janglinge and of fals Envie,Fulofte medlid with disese:Bot thilke love is wel at ese,Which set is upon mariage;For that dar schewen the visageIn alle places openly.A gret mervaile it is forthi,1480How that a Maiden wolde lette,That sche hir time ne besetteTo haste unto that ilke feste,Wherof the love is al honeste.Men mai recovere lost of good,Bot so wys man yit nevere stod,Which mai recovere time lore:So mai a Maiden wel therforeEnsample take, of that sche strangethHir love, and longe er that sche changeth1490Hir herte upon hir lustes greeneTo mariage, as it is seene.For thus a yer or tuo or threSche lest, er that sche wedded be,P. ii. 52Whyl sche the charge myhte bereOf children, whiche the world forbereNe mai, bot if it scholde faile.Bot what Maiden hire esposaileWol tarie, whan sche take mai,Sche schal per chance an other dai1500Be let, whan that hire lievest were.1219Wherof a tale unto hire Ere,Which is coupable upon this dede,I thenke telle of that I rede.[Tale of Jephthah’s Daughter.]Among the Jewes, as men tolde,Ther was whilom be daies oldeA noble Duck, which Jepte hihte.1220Hic ponit exemplum super eodem: Et narrat de filia Iepte, que cum ex sui patris voto in holocaustum deo occidi et offerri deberet, ipsa pro eo quod virgo fuit et prolem ad augmentacionem populi dei nondum genuisset, xl. dierum spacium vt cum suis sodalibus virginibus suam defleret virginitatem, priusquam moreretur, in exemplum aliarum1221a patre postulauit.And fell, he scholde go to fyhteAyein Amon the cruel king:And forto speke upon this thing,1510Withinne his herte he made avou1222To god and seide, ‘Ha lord, if thouWolt grante unto thi man victoire,I schal in tokne of thi memoireThe ferste lif that I mai se,Of man or womman wher it be,Anon as I come hom ayein,To thee, which art god sovereign,Slen in thi name and sacrifie.’And thus with his chivalerie1520He goth him forth, wher that he scholde,1223And wan al that he winne woldeAnd overcam his fomen alle.Mai noman lette that schal falle.P. ii. 53This Duc a lusti dowhter hadde,1224And fame, which the wordes spradde,Hath broght unto this ladi EreHow that hire fader hath do there.Sche waiteth upon his comingeWith dansinge and with carolinge,1530As sche that wolde be toforeAl othre, and so sche was therfore1225In Masphat at hir fader gateThe ferste; and whan he com therate,And sih his douhter, he tobreideHise clothes and wepende he seide:‘O mihti god among ous hiere,Nou wot I that in no manereThis worldes joie mai be plein.I hadde al that I coude sein1540Ayein mi fomen be thi grace,1226So whan I cam toward this placeTher was non gladdere man than I:1227But now, mi lord, al sodeinliMi joie is torned into sorwe,For I mi dowhter schal tomorweTohewe and brenne in thi serviseTo loenge of thi sacrifiseThurgh min avou, so as it is.’The Maiden, whan sche wiste of this,1550And sih the sorwe hir fader made,So as sche mai with wordes gladeConforteth him, and bad him holdeThe covenant which he is holdeP. ii. 54Towardes god, as he behihte.1228Bot natheles hire herte aflihteOf that sche sih hire deth comende;And thanne unto the ground knelende1229Tofore hir fader sche is falle,And seith, so as it is befalle1560Upon this point that sche schal deie,Of o thing ferst sche wolde him preie,That fourty daies of respitHe wolde hir grante upon this plit,That sche the whyle mai bewepeHir maidenhod, which sche to kepeSo longe hath had and noght beset;1230Wherof her lusti youthe is let,That sche no children hath forthdraweIn Mariage after the lawe,1570So that the poeple is noght encressed.Bot that it mihte be relessed,That sche hir time hath lore so,Sche wolde be his leve goWith othre Maidens to compleigne,And afterward unto the peineOf deth sche wolde come ayein.The fader herde his douhter sein,And therupon of on assentThe Maidens were anon asent,1580That scholden with this Maiden wende.So forto speke unto this ende,Thei gon the dounes and the dalesWith wepinge and with wofull tales,P. ii. 55And every wyht hire maidenhiedeCompleigneth upon thilke nede,That sche no children hadde bore,Wherof sche hath hir youthe lore,Which nevere sche recovere mai:For so fell that hir laste dai1590Was come, in which sche scholde takeHir deth, which sche may noght forsake.Lo, thus sche deiede a wofull MaideFor thilke cause which I saide,As thou hast understonde above.Amans.Mi fader, as toward the LoveOf Maidens forto telle trowthe,Ye have thilke vice of Slowthe,Me thenkth, riht wonder wel declared,That ye the wommen have noght spared1600Of hem that tarien so behinde.Bot yit it falleth in my minde,Toward the men hou that ye spiekeOf hem that wole no travail siekeIn cause of love upon decerte:To speke in wordes so coverte,I not what travaill that ye mente.Confessor.Mi Sone, and after min ententeI woll thee telle what I thoghte,Hou whilom men here loves boghte1610Thurgh gret travaill in strange londes,Wher that thei wroghten with here hondesOf armes many a worthi dede,In sondri place as men mai rede.P. ii. 56vi.Quem probat armorum probitas Venus approbat, et quem[Lovers must approve themselves in arms.]Torpor habet reprobum reprobat illa virum.Vecors segnicies insignia nescit amoris,Nam piger ad brauium tardius ipse venit.That every love of pure kindeIs ferst forthdrawe, wel I finde:Bot natheles yit overthisDecerte doth so that it isHic loquitur quod in amoris causa milicie probitas ad armorum laboris excercicium nullatenus1231torpescat.The rather had in mani place.Forthi who secheth loves grace,1620Wher that these worthi wommen are,He mai noght thanne himselve spareUpon his travail forto serve,Wherof that he mai thonk deserve,There as these men of Armes be,1232Somtime over the grete Se:So that be londe and ek be SchipeHe mot travaile for worschipeAnd make manye hastyf rodes,Somtime in Prus, somtime in Rodes,1630And somtime into Tartarie;So that these heraldz on him crie,‘Vailant, vailant, lo, wher he goth!’And thanne he yifth hem gold and cloth,So that his fame mihte springe,And to his ladi Ere bringeSom tidinge of his worthinesse;1233So that sche mihte of his prouesceOf that sche herde men recorde,The betre unto his love acorde12341640And danger pute out of hire mod,Whanne alle men recorden good,P. ii. 57And that sche wot wel, for hir sakeThat he no travail wol forsake.Confessor.Mi Sone, of this travail I meene:Nou schrif thee, for it schal be seneIf thou art ydel in this cas.Confessio Amantis.My fader ye, and evere was:[Arguments to the Contrary.]For as me thenketh trewelyThat every man doth mor than I1650As of this point, and if so isThat I have oght so don er this,It is so litel ofacompte,As who seith, it mai noght amonteTo winne of love his lusti yifte.For this I telle you in schrifte,That me were levere hir love winneThan Kaire and al that is ther inne:And forto slen the hethen alle,I not what good ther mihte falle,1660So mochel blod thogh ther be schad.This finde I writen, hou Crist badThat noman other scholde sle.What scholde I winne over the Se,If I mi ladi loste at hom?Bot passe thei the salte fom,To whom Crist bad thei scholden precheToal the world and his feith teche:Bot now thei rucken in here nestAnd resten as hem liketh best12351670In all the swetnesse of delices.Thus thei defenden ous the vices,P. ii. 58And sitte hemselven al amidde;To slen and feihten thei ous biddeHem whom thei scholde, as the bok seith,Converten unto Cristes feith.Bot hierof have I gret mervaile,Hou thei wol bidde me travaile:A Sarazin if I sle schal,I sle the Soule forth withal,1680And that was nevere Cristes lore.Bot nou ho ther, I seie nomore.Bot I wol speke upon mi schrifte;And to Cupide I make a yifte,That who as evere pris deserveOf armes, I wol love serve;And thogh I scholde hem bothe kepe,Als wel yit wolde I take kepeWhan it were time to abide,As forto travaile and to ryde:12361690For how as evere a man laboure,Cupide appointed hath his houre.Hic allegat Amans in sui excusacionem, qualiter Achilles apud Troiam propter amorem Polixenen arma sua per aliquod tempus dimisit.For I have herd it telle also,1237Achilles lefte hise armes soBothe of himself and of his menAt Troie for Polixenen,Upon hire love whanne he fell,That for no chance that befellAmong the Grecs or up or doun,He wolde noght ayein the toun1700Ben armed, for the love of hire.1238And so me thenketh, lieve Sire,P. ii. 59A man of armes mai him resteSomtime in hope for the beste,If he mai finde a weie nerr.1239What scholde I thanne go so ferr1240In strange londes many a mileTo ryde, and lese at hom therwhile1241Mi love? It were a schort beyeteTo winne chaf and lese whete.1710Bot if mi ladi bidde wolde,That I for hire love scholdeTravaile, me thenkth trewelyI mihte fle thurghout the Sky,And go thurghout the depe Se,For al ne sette I at a streWhat thonk that I mihte elles gete.What helpeth it a man have mete,Wher drinke lacketh on the bord?What helpeth eny mannes word1720To seie hou I travaile faste,Wher as me faileth ate lasteThat thing which I travaile fore?O in good time were he bore,That mihte atteigne such a mede.Bot certes if I mihte spedeWith eny maner besinesseOf worldes travail, thanne I gesse,Ther scholde me non ydelschipeDeparten fro hir ladischipe.1730Bot this I se, on daies nouThe blinde god, I wot noght hou,P. ii. 60Cupido, which of love is lord,He set the thinges in discord,That thei that lest to love entendeFulofte he wole hem yive and sendeMost of his grace; and thus I findeThat he that scholde go behinde,1242Goth many a time ferr tofore:So wot I noght riht wel therfore,12431740On whether bord that I schal seile.Thus can I noght miself conseile,Bot al I sette on aventure,And am, as who seith, out of cureFor ought that I can seie or do:For everemore I finde it so,The more besinesse I leie,The more that I knele and preieWith goode wordes and with softe,The more I am refused ofte,1750With besinesse and mai noght winne.And in good feith that is gret Sinne;1244For I mai seie, of dede and thoghtThat ydel man have I be noght;For hou as evere I be deslaied,Yit evermore I have assaied.Bot thogh my besinesse laste,Al is bot ydel ate laste,For whan theffect is ydelnesse,I not what thing is besinesse.1760Sei, what availeth al the dede,Which nothing helpeth ate nede?P. ii. 61For the fortune of every fameSchal of his ende bere a name.And thus for oght is yit befalle,An ydel man I wol me calleAs after myn entendement:Bot upon youre amendement,[The Confessor replies.]Min holi fader, as you semeth,1245Mi reson and my cause demeth.1770Confessor.Mi Sone, I have herd thi matiere,Of that thou hast thee schriven hiere:And forto speke of ydel fare,Me semeth that thou tharst noght care,Bot only that thou miht noght spede.And therof, Sone, I wol thee rede,Abyd, and haste noght to faste;Thi dees ben every dai to caste,Thou nost what chance schal betyde.Betre is to wayte upon the tyde12461780Than rowe ayein the stremes stronge:For thogh so be thee thenketh longe,Per cas the revolucionOf hevene and thi condicionNe be noght yit of on acord.Bot I dar make this recordTo Venus, whos Prest that I am,That sithen that I hidir camTo hiere, as sche me bad, thi lif,Wherof thou elles be gultif,1790Thou miht hierof thi conscienceExcuse, and of gret diligence,P. ii. 62Which thou to love hast so despended,Thou oghtest wel to be comended.Bot if so be that ther oght faile,Of that thou slowthest to travaileIn armes forto ben absent,And for thou makst an argumentOf that thou seidest hiere above,Hou Achilles thurgh strengthe of love1800Hise armes lefte for a throwe,Thou schalt an other tale knowe,Which is contraire, as thou schalt wite.For this a man mai finde write,Whan that knyhthode schal be werred,1247Lust mai noght thanne be preferred;The bedd mot thanne be forsakeAnd Schield and spere on honde take,Which thing schal make hem after glade,Whan thei ben worthi knihtes made.1810Wherof, so as it comth to honde,A tale thou schalt understonde,Hou that a kniht schal armes suie,And for the while his ese eschuie.
[v.Idleness.]v.Absque labore vagus vir inutilis ocia plectens,Nescio quid presens vita valebit ei.Non amor in tali misero viget, immo valorisQui faciunt opera clamat habere suos.
[v.Idleness.]
v.Absque labore vagus vir inutilis ocia plectens,
Nescio quid presens vita valebit ei.
Non amor in tali misero viget, immo valoris
Qui faciunt opera clamat habere suos.
Among these othre of Slowthes kinde,Which alle labour set behinde,And hateth alle besinesse,Hic loquitur Confessor super illa specie Accidie, que Ocium dicitur, cuius condicio in virtutum cultura nullius occupacionis diligenciam admittens, cuiuscumque expedicionem cause non attingit.Ther is yit on, which Ydelnesse1192Is cleped, and is the NorriceIn mannes kinde of every vice,Which secheth eases manyfold.In Wynter doth he noght for cold,1090In Somer mai he noght for hete;So whether that he frese or swete,Or he be inne, or he be oute,1193He wol ben ydel al aboute,Bot if he pleie oght ate Dees.1194For who as evere take feesAnd thenkth worschipe to deserve,Ther is no lord whom he wol serve,As forto duelle in his servise,Bot if it were in such a wise,1100Of that he seth per aventureThat be lordschipe and covertureHe mai the more stonde stille,And use his ydelnesse at wille.P. ii. 39For he ne wol no travail takeTo ryde for his ladi sake,Bot liveth al upon his wisshes;And as a cat wolde ete fisshesWithoute wetinge of his cles,So wolde he do, bot natheles1110He faileth ofte of that he wolde.Confessor.Mi Sone, if thou of such a moldeArt mad, now tell me plein thi schrifte.Amans.Nay, fader, god I yive a yifte,That toward love, as be mi wit,Al ydel was I nevere yit,Ne nevere schal, whil I mai go.Confessor.Now, Sone, tell me thanne so,What hast thou don of besischipeTo love and to the ladischipe1120Of hire which thi ladi is?Confessio Amantis.Mi fader, evere yit er thisIn every place, in every stede,What so mi lady hath me bede,With al myn herte obedientI have therto be diligent.And if so is sche bidde noght,What thing that thanne into my thoghtComth ferst of that I mai suffise,I bowe and profre my servise,1130Somtime in chambre, somtime in halle,Riht as I se the times falle.And whan sche goth to hiere masse,1195That time schal noght overpasse,P. ii. 40That I naproche hir ladihede,In aunter if I mai hire ledeUnto the chapelle and ayein.Thanne is noght al mi weie in vein,Somdiel I mai the betre fare,Whan I, that mai noght fiele hir bare,1140Mai lede hire clothed in myn arm:Bot afterward it doth me harmOf pure ymaginacioun;For thanne this collaciounI make unto miselven ofte,And seie, ‘Ha lord, hou sche is softe,How sche is round, hou sche is smal!Now wolde god I hadde hire alWithoute danger at mi wille!’And thanne I sike and sitte stille,1150Of that I se mi besi thoghtIs torned ydel into noght.Bot for al that lete I ne mai,Whanne I se time an other dai,That I ne do my besinesseUnto mi ladi worthinesse.For I therto mi wit afaiteTo se the times and awaiteWhat is to done and what to leve:And so, whan time is, be hir leve,1160What thing sche bit me don, I do,And wher sche bidt me gon, I go,1196And whanne hir list to clepe, I come.Thus hath sche fulliche overcomeP. ii. 41Min ydelnesse til I sterve,So that I mot hire nedes serve,For as men sein, nede hath no lawe.Thus mot I nedly to hire drawe,I serve, I bowe, I loke, I loute,Min yhe folweth hire aboute,1170What so sche wole so wol I,Whan sche wol sitte, I knele by,And whan sche stant, than wol I stonde:Bot whan sche takth hir werk on honde1197Of wevinge or enbrouderie,Than can I noght bot muse and prieUpon hir fingres longe and smale,And now I thenke, and now I tale,And now I singe, and now I sike,And thus mi contienance I pike.1180And if it falle, as for a timeHir liketh noght abide bime,Bot besien hire on other thinges,1198Than make I othre tariingesTo dreche forth the longe dai,For me is loth departe away.And thanne I am so simple of port,That forto feigne som desportI pleie with hire litel houndNow on the bedd, now on the ground,1190Now with hir briddes in the cage;For ther is non so litel page,Ne yit so simple a chamberere,That I ne make hem alle chere,P. ii. 42Al for thei scholde speke wel:Thus mow ye sen mi besi whiel,That goth noght ydeliche aboute.And if hir list to riden outeOn pelrinage or other stede,I come, thogh I be noght bede,1200And take hire in min arm alofteAnd sette hire in hire sadel softe,And so forth lede hire be the bridel,For that I wolde noght ben ydel.And if hire list to ride in Char,And thanne I mai therof be war,Anon I schape me to ryde1199Riht evene be the Chares side;And as I mai, I speke among,And otherwhile I singe a song,1210Which Ovide in his bokes made,And seide, ‘O whiche sorwes glade,1200O which wofull prosperiteBelongeth to the propreteOf love, who so wole him serve!And yit therfro mai noman swerve,That he ne mot his lawe obeie.’And thus I ryde forth mi weie,And am riht besi overalWith herte and with mi body al,1220As I have said you hier tofore.My goode fader, tell therfore,Of Ydelnesse if I have gilt.Confessor.Mi Sone, bot thou telle wilt1201P. ii. 43Oght elles than I mai now hiere,Thou schalt have no penance hiere.And natheles a man mai se,How now adayes that ther beFul manye of suche hertes slowe,That wol noght besien hem to knowe1230What thing love is, til ate laste,That he with strengthe hem overcaste,That malgre hem thei mote obeieAnd don al ydelschipe aweie,To serve wel and besiliche.Bot, Sone, thou art non of swiche,For love schal the wel excuse:Bot otherwise, if thou refuseTo love, thou miht so per casBen ydel, as somtime was1240A kinges dowhter unavised,Til that Cupide hire hath chastised:Wherof thou schalt a tale hiereAcordant unto this matiere.[Tale of Rosiphelee.]Of Armenye, I rede thus,Ther was a king, which HerupusWas hote, and he a lusti MaideHic ponit Confessor exemplum contra istos qui amoris1202occupacionem omittentes, grauioris infortunii casus expectant.1203Et narrat de quadam Armenie Regis filia, que huiusmodi condicionis in principio iuuentutis ociosa persistens, mirabili postea visione castigata in amoris obsequium pre ceteris diligencior1204efficitur.To dowhter hadde, and as men saideHire name was Rosiphelee;Which tho was of gret renomee,1250For sche was bothe wys and fairAnd scholde ben hire fader hair.Bot sche hadde o defalte of SlowtheTowardes love, and that was rowthe;P. ii. 44For so wel cowde noman seie,Which mihte sette hire in the weieOf loves occupacionThurgh non ymaginacion;That scole wolde sche noght knowe.And thus sche was on of the slowe1260As of such hertes besinesse,Til whanne Venus the goddesse,Which loves court hath forto reule,Hath broght hire into betre reule,Forth with Cupide and with his miht:For thei merveille how such a wiht,1205Which tho was in hir lusti age,Desireth nother MariageNe yit the love of paramours,Which evere hath be the comun cours1270Amonges hem that lusti were.So was it schewed after there:1206For he that hihe hertes lowethWith fyri Dartes whiche he throweth,Cupide, which of love is godd,1207In chastisinge hath mad a roddTo dryve awei hir wantounesse;So that withinne a while, I gesse,Sche hadde on such a chance sporned,That al hire mod was overtorned,1280Which ferst sche hadde of slow manere:For thus it fell, as thou schalt hiere.Whan come was the Monthe of Maii,Sche wolde walke upon a dai,P. ii. 45And that was er the Sonne Ariste;Of wommen bot a fewe it wiste,And forth sche wente privelyUnto the Park was faste by,Al softe walkende on the gras,Til sche cam ther the Launde was,1290Thurgh which ther ran a gret rivere.It thoghte hir fair, and seide, ‘HereI wole abide under the schawe’:And bad hire wommen to withdrawe,And ther sche stod al one stille,To thenke what was in hir wille.Sche sih the swote floures springe,Sche herde glade foules singe,Sche sih the bestes in her kinde,The buck, the do, the hert, the hinde,1300The madle go with the femele;And so began ther a quereleBetwen love and hir oghne herte,Fro which sche couthe noght asterte.And as sche caste hire yhe aboute,Sche syh clad in o suite a routeOf ladis, wher thei comen rydeAlong under the wodes syde:On faire amblende hors thei sete,That were al whyte, fatte and grete,12081310And everichon thei ride on side.The Sadles were of such a Pride,With Perle and gold so wel begon,So riche syh sche nevere non;P. ii. 46In kertles and in Copes richeThei weren clothed, alle liche,Departed evene of whyt and blew;With alle lustes that sche knewThei were enbrouded overal.Here bodies weren long and smal,1320The beaute faye upon her face1209Non erthly thing it may desface;Corones on here hed thei beere,As ech of hem a qweene weere,That al the gold of Cresus halleThe leste coronal of alleNe mihte have boght after the worth:Thus come thei ridende forth.The kinges dowhter, which this syh,For pure abaissht drowh hire adryh1330And hield hire clos under the bowh,And let hem passen stille ynowh;For as hire thoghte in hire avis,To hem that were of such a prisSche was noght worthi axen there,Fro when they come or what thei were:Bot levere than this worldes goodSche wolde have wist hou that it stod,And putte hire hed alitel oute;And as sche lokede hire aboute,1340Sche syh comende under the linde1210A womman up an hors behinde.1211The hors on which sche rod was blak,Al lene and galled on the back,P. ii. 47And haltede, as he were encluyed,Wherof the womman was annuied;Thus was the hors in sori plit,Bot for al that a sterre whit1212Amiddes in the front he hadde.Hir Sadel ek was wonder badde,1350In which the wofull womman sat,And natheles ther was with thatA riche bridel for the nonesOf gold and preciouse Stones.Hire cote was somdiel totore;Aboute hir middel twenty scoreOf horse haltres and wel moTher hyngen ate time tho.Thus whan sche cam the ladi nyh,Than tok sche betre hiede and syh1360This womman fair was of visage,1213Freyssh, lusti, yong and of tendre age;And so this ladi, ther sche stod,Bethoghte hire wel and understodThat this, which com ridende tho,Tidinges couthe telle of tho,Which as sche sih tofore ryde,1214And putte hir forth and preide abide,And seide, ‘Ha, Suster, let me hiere,What ben thei, that now riden hiere,1370And ben so richeliche arraied?’This womman, which com so esmaied,Ansuerde with ful softe speche,And seith, ‘Ma Dame, I schal you teche.P. ii. 48These ar of tho that whilom wereServantz to love, and trowthe beere,Ther as thei hadde here herte set.Fare wel, for I mai noght be let:Ma Dame, I go to mi servise,So moste I haste in alle wise;1380Forthi, ma Dame, yif me leve,I mai noght longe with you leve.’‘Ha, goode Soster, yit I preie,Tell me whi ye ben so beseieAnd with these haltres thus begon.’‘Ma Dame, whilom I was onThat to mi fader hadde a king;Bot I was slow, and for no thingMe liste noght to love obeie,And that I now ful sore abeie.1390For I whilom no love hadde,Min hors is now so fieble and badde,And al totore is myn arai,1215And every yeer this freisshe MaiiThese lusti ladis ryde aboute,And I mot nedes suie here routeIn this manere as ye now se,1216And trusse here haltres forth with me,And am bot as here horse knave.Non other office I ne have,1400Hem thenkth I am worthi nomore,For I was slow in loves lore,Whan I was able forto lere,And wolde noght the tales hiereP. ii. 49Of hem that couthen love teche.’‘Now tell me thanne, I you beseche,Wherof that riche bridel serveth.’With that hire chere awei sche swerveth,And gan to wepe, and thus sche tolde:‘This bridel, which ye nou beholde1410So riche upon myn horse hed,—Ma Dame, afore, er I was ded,Whan I was in mi lusti lif,Ther fel into myn herte a strifOf love, which me overcom,So that therafter hiede I nomAnd thoghte I wolde love a kniht:That laste wel a fourtenyht,For it no lengere mihte laste,1217So nyh my lif was ate laste.1420Bot now, allas, to late warThat I ne hadde him loved ar:For deth cam so in haste bime,Er I therto hadde eny time,That it ne mihte ben achieved.Bot for al that I am relieved,Of that mi will was good therto,That love soffreth it be soThat I schal swiche a bridel were.Now have ye herd al myn ansuere:1430To godd, ma Dame, I you betake,And warneth alle for mi sake,Of love that thei ben noght ydel,And bidd hem thenke upon mi brydel.’P. ii. 50And with that word al sodeinlySche passeth, as it were a Sky,Al clene out of this ladi sihte:And tho for fere hire herte afflihte,And seide to hirself, ‘Helas!I am riht in the same cas.1440Bot if I live after this day,I schal amende it, if I may.’And thus homward this lady wente,And changede al hire ferste entente,Withinne hire herte and gan to swereThat sche none haltres wolde bere.Confessor.Lo, Sone, hier miht thou taken hiede,How ydelnesse is forto drede,Namliche of love, as I have write.For thou miht understonde and wite,1450Among the gentil nacionLove is an occupacion,Which forto kepe hise lustes saveNon quia sic se habet veritas, set opinio Amantum.1218Scholde every gentil herte have:For as the ladi was chastised,Riht so the knyht mai ben avised,Which ydel is and wol noght serveTo love, he mai per cas deserveA grettere peine than sche hadde,Whan sche aboute with hire ladde1460The horse haltres; and forthiGood is to be wel war therbi.Bot forto loke aboven alle,[Idleness in Love.]These Maidens, hou so that it falle,P. ii. 51Thei scholden take ensample of thisWhich I have told, for soth it is.Mi ladi Venus, whom I serve,What womman wole hire thonk deserve,Sche mai noght thilke love eschuieOf paramours, bot sche mot suie1470Cupides lawe; and nathelesMen sen such love sielde in pes,That it nys evere upon aspieOf janglinge and of fals Envie,Fulofte medlid with disese:Bot thilke love is wel at ese,Which set is upon mariage;For that dar schewen the visageIn alle places openly.A gret mervaile it is forthi,1480How that a Maiden wolde lette,That sche hir time ne besetteTo haste unto that ilke feste,Wherof the love is al honeste.Men mai recovere lost of good,Bot so wys man yit nevere stod,Which mai recovere time lore:So mai a Maiden wel therforeEnsample take, of that sche strangethHir love, and longe er that sche changeth1490Hir herte upon hir lustes greeneTo mariage, as it is seene.For thus a yer or tuo or threSche lest, er that sche wedded be,P. ii. 52Whyl sche the charge myhte bereOf children, whiche the world forbereNe mai, bot if it scholde faile.Bot what Maiden hire esposaileWol tarie, whan sche take mai,Sche schal per chance an other dai1500Be let, whan that hire lievest were.1219Wherof a tale unto hire Ere,Which is coupable upon this dede,I thenke telle of that I rede.
Among these othre of Slowthes kinde,
Which alle labour set behinde,
And hateth alle besinesse,
Hic loquitur Confessor super illa specie Accidie, que Ocium dicitur, cuius condicio in virtutum cultura nullius occupacionis diligenciam admittens, cuiuscumque expedicionem cause non attingit.
Ther is yit on, which Ydelnesse1192
Is cleped, and is the Norrice
In mannes kinde of every vice,
Which secheth eases manyfold.
In Wynter doth he noght for cold,1090
In Somer mai he noght for hete;
So whether that he frese or swete,
Or he be inne, or he be oute,1193
He wol ben ydel al aboute,
Bot if he pleie oght ate Dees.1194
For who as evere take fees
And thenkth worschipe to deserve,
Ther is no lord whom he wol serve,
As forto duelle in his servise,
Bot if it were in such a wise,1100
Of that he seth per aventure
That be lordschipe and coverture
He mai the more stonde stille,
And use his ydelnesse at wille.
P. ii. 39
For he ne wol no travail take
To ryde for his ladi sake,
Bot liveth al upon his wisshes;
And as a cat wolde ete fisshes
Withoute wetinge of his cles,
So wolde he do, bot natheles1110
He faileth ofte of that he wolde.
Confessor.
Mi Sone, if thou of such a molde
Art mad, now tell me plein thi schrifte.
Amans.
Nay, fader, god I yive a yifte,
That toward love, as be mi wit,
Al ydel was I nevere yit,
Ne nevere schal, whil I mai go.
Confessor.
Now, Sone, tell me thanne so,
What hast thou don of besischipe
To love and to the ladischipe1120
Of hire which thi ladi is?
Confessio Amantis.
Mi fader, evere yit er this
In every place, in every stede,
What so mi lady hath me bede,
With al myn herte obedient
I have therto be diligent.
And if so is sche bidde noght,
What thing that thanne into my thoght
Comth ferst of that I mai suffise,
I bowe and profre my servise,1130
Somtime in chambre, somtime in halle,
Riht as I se the times falle.
And whan sche goth to hiere masse,1195
That time schal noght overpasse,
P. ii. 40
That I naproche hir ladihede,
In aunter if I mai hire lede
Unto the chapelle and ayein.
Thanne is noght al mi weie in vein,
Somdiel I mai the betre fare,
Whan I, that mai noght fiele hir bare,1140
Mai lede hire clothed in myn arm:
Bot afterward it doth me harm
Of pure ymaginacioun;
For thanne this collacioun
I make unto miselven ofte,
And seie, ‘Ha lord, hou sche is softe,
How sche is round, hou sche is smal!
Now wolde god I hadde hire al
Withoute danger at mi wille!’
And thanne I sike and sitte stille,1150
Of that I se mi besi thoght
Is torned ydel into noght.
Bot for al that lete I ne mai,
Whanne I se time an other dai,
That I ne do my besinesse
Unto mi ladi worthinesse.
For I therto mi wit afaite
To se the times and awaite
What is to done and what to leve:
And so, whan time is, be hir leve,1160
What thing sche bit me don, I do,
And wher sche bidt me gon, I go,1196
And whanne hir list to clepe, I come.
Thus hath sche fulliche overcome
P. ii. 41
Min ydelnesse til I sterve,
So that I mot hire nedes serve,
For as men sein, nede hath no lawe.
Thus mot I nedly to hire drawe,
I serve, I bowe, I loke, I loute,
Min yhe folweth hire aboute,1170
What so sche wole so wol I,
Whan sche wol sitte, I knele by,
And whan sche stant, than wol I stonde:
Bot whan sche takth hir werk on honde1197
Of wevinge or enbrouderie,
Than can I noght bot muse and prie
Upon hir fingres longe and smale,
And now I thenke, and now I tale,
And now I singe, and now I sike,
And thus mi contienance I pike.1180
And if it falle, as for a time
Hir liketh noght abide bime,
Bot besien hire on other thinges,1198
Than make I othre tariinges
To dreche forth the longe dai,
For me is loth departe away.
And thanne I am so simple of port,
That forto feigne som desport
I pleie with hire litel hound
Now on the bedd, now on the ground,1190
Now with hir briddes in the cage;
For ther is non so litel page,
Ne yit so simple a chamberere,
That I ne make hem alle chere,
P. ii. 42
Al for thei scholde speke wel:
Thus mow ye sen mi besi whiel,
That goth noght ydeliche aboute.
And if hir list to riden oute
On pelrinage or other stede,
I come, thogh I be noght bede,1200
And take hire in min arm alofte
And sette hire in hire sadel softe,
And so forth lede hire be the bridel,
For that I wolde noght ben ydel.
And if hire list to ride in Char,
And thanne I mai therof be war,
Anon I schape me to ryde1199
Riht evene be the Chares side;
And as I mai, I speke among,
And otherwhile I singe a song,1210
Which Ovide in his bokes made,
And seide, ‘O whiche sorwes glade,1200
O which wofull prosperite
Belongeth to the proprete
Of love, who so wole him serve!
And yit therfro mai noman swerve,
That he ne mot his lawe obeie.’
And thus I ryde forth mi weie,
And am riht besi overal
With herte and with mi body al,1220
As I have said you hier tofore.
My goode fader, tell therfore,
Of Ydelnesse if I have gilt.
Confessor.
Mi Sone, bot thou telle wilt1201
P. ii. 43
Oght elles than I mai now hiere,
Thou schalt have no penance hiere.
And natheles a man mai se,
How now adayes that ther be
Ful manye of suche hertes slowe,
That wol noght besien hem to knowe1230
What thing love is, til ate laste,
That he with strengthe hem overcaste,
That malgre hem thei mote obeie
And don al ydelschipe aweie,
To serve wel and besiliche.
Bot, Sone, thou art non of swiche,
For love schal the wel excuse:
Bot otherwise, if thou refuse
To love, thou miht so per cas
Ben ydel, as somtime was1240
A kinges dowhter unavised,
Til that Cupide hire hath chastised:
Wherof thou schalt a tale hiere
Acordant unto this matiere.
[Tale of Rosiphelee.]
Of Armenye, I rede thus,
Ther was a king, which Herupus
Was hote, and he a lusti Maide
Hic ponit Confessor exemplum contra istos qui amoris1202occupacionem omittentes, grauioris infortunii casus expectant.1203Et narrat de quadam Armenie Regis filia, que huiusmodi condicionis in principio iuuentutis ociosa persistens, mirabili postea visione castigata in amoris obsequium pre ceteris diligencior1204efficitur.
To dowhter hadde, and as men saide
Hire name was Rosiphelee;
Which tho was of gret renomee,1250
For sche was bothe wys and fair
And scholde ben hire fader hair.
Bot sche hadde o defalte of Slowthe
Towardes love, and that was rowthe;
P. ii. 44
For so wel cowde noman seie,
Which mihte sette hire in the weie
Of loves occupacion
Thurgh non ymaginacion;
That scole wolde sche noght knowe.
And thus sche was on of the slowe1260
As of such hertes besinesse,
Til whanne Venus the goddesse,
Which loves court hath forto reule,
Hath broght hire into betre reule,
Forth with Cupide and with his miht:
For thei merveille how such a wiht,1205
Which tho was in hir lusti age,
Desireth nother Mariage
Ne yit the love of paramours,
Which evere hath be the comun cours1270
Amonges hem that lusti were.
So was it schewed after there:1206
For he that hihe hertes loweth
With fyri Dartes whiche he throweth,
Cupide, which of love is godd,1207
In chastisinge hath mad a rodd
To dryve awei hir wantounesse;
So that withinne a while, I gesse,
Sche hadde on such a chance sporned,
That al hire mod was overtorned,1280
Which ferst sche hadde of slow manere:
For thus it fell, as thou schalt hiere.
Whan come was the Monthe of Maii,
Sche wolde walke upon a dai,
P. ii. 45
And that was er the Sonne Ariste;
Of wommen bot a fewe it wiste,
And forth sche wente prively
Unto the Park was faste by,
Al softe walkende on the gras,
Til sche cam ther the Launde was,1290
Thurgh which ther ran a gret rivere.
It thoghte hir fair, and seide, ‘Here
I wole abide under the schawe’:
And bad hire wommen to withdrawe,
And ther sche stod al one stille,
To thenke what was in hir wille.
Sche sih the swote floures springe,
Sche herde glade foules singe,
Sche sih the bestes in her kinde,
The buck, the do, the hert, the hinde,1300
The madle go with the femele;
And so began ther a querele
Betwen love and hir oghne herte,
Fro which sche couthe noght asterte.
And as sche caste hire yhe aboute,
Sche syh clad in o suite a route
Of ladis, wher thei comen ryde
Along under the wodes syde:
On faire amblende hors thei sete,
That were al whyte, fatte and grete,12081310
And everichon thei ride on side.
The Sadles were of such a Pride,
With Perle and gold so wel begon,
So riche syh sche nevere non;
P. ii. 46
In kertles and in Copes riche
Thei weren clothed, alle liche,
Departed evene of whyt and blew;
With alle lustes that sche knew
Thei were enbrouded overal.
Here bodies weren long and smal,1320
The beaute faye upon her face1209
Non erthly thing it may desface;
Corones on here hed thei beere,
As ech of hem a qweene weere,
That al the gold of Cresus halle
The leste coronal of alle
Ne mihte have boght after the worth:
Thus come thei ridende forth.
The kinges dowhter, which this syh,
For pure abaissht drowh hire adryh1330
And hield hire clos under the bowh,
And let hem passen stille ynowh;
For as hire thoghte in hire avis,
To hem that were of such a pris
Sche was noght worthi axen there,
Fro when they come or what thei were:
Bot levere than this worldes good
Sche wolde have wist hou that it stod,
And putte hire hed alitel oute;
And as sche lokede hire aboute,1340
Sche syh comende under the linde1210
A womman up an hors behinde.1211
The hors on which sche rod was blak,
Al lene and galled on the back,
P. ii. 47
And haltede, as he were encluyed,
Wherof the womman was annuied;
Thus was the hors in sori plit,
Bot for al that a sterre whit1212
Amiddes in the front he hadde.
Hir Sadel ek was wonder badde,1350
In which the wofull womman sat,
And natheles ther was with that
A riche bridel for the nones
Of gold and preciouse Stones.
Hire cote was somdiel totore;
Aboute hir middel twenty score
Of horse haltres and wel mo
Ther hyngen ate time tho.
Thus whan sche cam the ladi nyh,
Than tok sche betre hiede and syh1360
This womman fair was of visage,1213
Freyssh, lusti, yong and of tendre age;
And so this ladi, ther sche stod,
Bethoghte hire wel and understod
That this, which com ridende tho,
Tidinges couthe telle of tho,
Which as sche sih tofore ryde,1214
And putte hir forth and preide abide,
And seide, ‘Ha, Suster, let me hiere,
What ben thei, that now riden hiere,1370
And ben so richeliche arraied?’
This womman, which com so esmaied,
Ansuerde with ful softe speche,
And seith, ‘Ma Dame, I schal you teche.
P. ii. 48
These ar of tho that whilom were
Servantz to love, and trowthe beere,
Ther as thei hadde here herte set.
Fare wel, for I mai noght be let:
Ma Dame, I go to mi servise,
So moste I haste in alle wise;1380
Forthi, ma Dame, yif me leve,
I mai noght longe with you leve.’
‘Ha, goode Soster, yit I preie,
Tell me whi ye ben so beseie
And with these haltres thus begon.’
‘Ma Dame, whilom I was on
That to mi fader hadde a king;
Bot I was slow, and for no thing
Me liste noght to love obeie,
And that I now ful sore abeie.1390
For I whilom no love hadde,
Min hors is now so fieble and badde,
And al totore is myn arai,1215
And every yeer this freisshe Maii
These lusti ladis ryde aboute,
And I mot nedes suie here route
In this manere as ye now se,1216
And trusse here haltres forth with me,
And am bot as here horse knave.
Non other office I ne have,1400
Hem thenkth I am worthi nomore,
For I was slow in loves lore,
Whan I was able forto lere,
And wolde noght the tales hiere
P. ii. 49
Of hem that couthen love teche.’
‘Now tell me thanne, I you beseche,
Wherof that riche bridel serveth.’
With that hire chere awei sche swerveth,
And gan to wepe, and thus sche tolde:
‘This bridel, which ye nou beholde1410
So riche upon myn horse hed,—
Ma Dame, afore, er I was ded,
Whan I was in mi lusti lif,
Ther fel into myn herte a strif
Of love, which me overcom,
So that therafter hiede I nom
And thoghte I wolde love a kniht:
That laste wel a fourtenyht,
For it no lengere mihte laste,1217
So nyh my lif was ate laste.1420
Bot now, allas, to late war
That I ne hadde him loved ar:
For deth cam so in haste bime,
Er I therto hadde eny time,
That it ne mihte ben achieved.
Bot for al that I am relieved,
Of that mi will was good therto,
That love soffreth it be so
That I schal swiche a bridel were.
Now have ye herd al myn ansuere:1430
To godd, ma Dame, I you betake,
And warneth alle for mi sake,
Of love that thei ben noght ydel,
And bidd hem thenke upon mi brydel.’
P. ii. 50
And with that word al sodeinly
Sche passeth, as it were a Sky,
Al clene out of this ladi sihte:
And tho for fere hire herte afflihte,
And seide to hirself, ‘Helas!
I am riht in the same cas.1440
Bot if I live after this day,
I schal amende it, if I may.’
And thus homward this lady wente,
And changede al hire ferste entente,
Withinne hire herte and gan to swere
That sche none haltres wolde bere.
Confessor.
Lo, Sone, hier miht thou taken hiede,
How ydelnesse is forto drede,
Namliche of love, as I have write.
For thou miht understonde and wite,1450
Among the gentil nacion
Love is an occupacion,
Which forto kepe hise lustes save
Non quia sic se habet veritas, set opinio Amantum.1218
Scholde every gentil herte have:
For as the ladi was chastised,
Riht so the knyht mai ben avised,
Which ydel is and wol noght serve
To love, he mai per cas deserve
A grettere peine than sche hadde,
Whan sche aboute with hire ladde1460
The horse haltres; and forthi
Good is to be wel war therbi.
Bot forto loke aboven alle,
[Idleness in Love.]
These Maidens, hou so that it falle,
P. ii. 51
Thei scholden take ensample of this
Which I have told, for soth it is.
Mi ladi Venus, whom I serve,
What womman wole hire thonk deserve,
Sche mai noght thilke love eschuie
Of paramours, bot sche mot suie1470
Cupides lawe; and natheles
Men sen such love sielde in pes,
That it nys evere upon aspie
Of janglinge and of fals Envie,
Fulofte medlid with disese:
Bot thilke love is wel at ese,
Which set is upon mariage;
For that dar schewen the visage
In alle places openly.
A gret mervaile it is forthi,1480
How that a Maiden wolde lette,
That sche hir time ne besette
To haste unto that ilke feste,
Wherof the love is al honeste.
Men mai recovere lost of good,
Bot so wys man yit nevere stod,
Which mai recovere time lore:
So mai a Maiden wel therfore
Ensample take, of that sche strangeth
Hir love, and longe er that sche changeth1490
Hir herte upon hir lustes greene
To mariage, as it is seene.
For thus a yer or tuo or thre
Sche lest, er that sche wedded be,
P. ii. 52
Whyl sche the charge myhte bere
Of children, whiche the world forbere
Ne mai, bot if it scholde faile.
Bot what Maiden hire esposaile
Wol tarie, whan sche take mai,
Sche schal per chance an other dai1500
Be let, whan that hire lievest were.1219
Wherof a tale unto hire Ere,
Which is coupable upon this dede,
I thenke telle of that I rede.
[Tale of Jephthah’s Daughter.]Among the Jewes, as men tolde,Ther was whilom be daies oldeA noble Duck, which Jepte hihte.1220Hic ponit exemplum super eodem: Et narrat de filia Iepte, que cum ex sui patris voto in holocaustum deo occidi et offerri deberet, ipsa pro eo quod virgo fuit et prolem ad augmentacionem populi dei nondum genuisset, xl. dierum spacium vt cum suis sodalibus virginibus suam defleret virginitatem, priusquam moreretur, in exemplum aliarum1221a patre postulauit.And fell, he scholde go to fyhteAyein Amon the cruel king:And forto speke upon this thing,1510Withinne his herte he made avou1222To god and seide, ‘Ha lord, if thouWolt grante unto thi man victoire,I schal in tokne of thi memoireThe ferste lif that I mai se,Of man or womman wher it be,Anon as I come hom ayein,To thee, which art god sovereign,Slen in thi name and sacrifie.’And thus with his chivalerie1520He goth him forth, wher that he scholde,1223And wan al that he winne woldeAnd overcam his fomen alle.Mai noman lette that schal falle.P. ii. 53This Duc a lusti dowhter hadde,1224And fame, which the wordes spradde,Hath broght unto this ladi EreHow that hire fader hath do there.Sche waiteth upon his comingeWith dansinge and with carolinge,1530As sche that wolde be toforeAl othre, and so sche was therfore1225In Masphat at hir fader gateThe ferste; and whan he com therate,And sih his douhter, he tobreideHise clothes and wepende he seide:‘O mihti god among ous hiere,Nou wot I that in no manereThis worldes joie mai be plein.I hadde al that I coude sein1540Ayein mi fomen be thi grace,1226So whan I cam toward this placeTher was non gladdere man than I:1227But now, mi lord, al sodeinliMi joie is torned into sorwe,For I mi dowhter schal tomorweTohewe and brenne in thi serviseTo loenge of thi sacrifiseThurgh min avou, so as it is.’The Maiden, whan sche wiste of this,1550And sih the sorwe hir fader made,So as sche mai with wordes gladeConforteth him, and bad him holdeThe covenant which he is holdeP. ii. 54Towardes god, as he behihte.1228Bot natheles hire herte aflihteOf that sche sih hire deth comende;And thanne unto the ground knelende1229Tofore hir fader sche is falle,And seith, so as it is befalle1560Upon this point that sche schal deie,Of o thing ferst sche wolde him preie,That fourty daies of respitHe wolde hir grante upon this plit,That sche the whyle mai bewepeHir maidenhod, which sche to kepeSo longe hath had and noght beset;1230Wherof her lusti youthe is let,That sche no children hath forthdraweIn Mariage after the lawe,1570So that the poeple is noght encressed.Bot that it mihte be relessed,That sche hir time hath lore so,Sche wolde be his leve goWith othre Maidens to compleigne,And afterward unto the peineOf deth sche wolde come ayein.The fader herde his douhter sein,And therupon of on assentThe Maidens were anon asent,1580That scholden with this Maiden wende.So forto speke unto this ende,Thei gon the dounes and the dalesWith wepinge and with wofull tales,P. ii. 55And every wyht hire maidenhiedeCompleigneth upon thilke nede,That sche no children hadde bore,Wherof sche hath hir youthe lore,Which nevere sche recovere mai:For so fell that hir laste dai1590Was come, in which sche scholde takeHir deth, which sche may noght forsake.Lo, thus sche deiede a wofull MaideFor thilke cause which I saide,As thou hast understonde above.Amans.Mi fader, as toward the LoveOf Maidens forto telle trowthe,Ye have thilke vice of Slowthe,Me thenkth, riht wonder wel declared,That ye the wommen have noght spared1600Of hem that tarien so behinde.Bot yit it falleth in my minde,Toward the men hou that ye spiekeOf hem that wole no travail siekeIn cause of love upon decerte:To speke in wordes so coverte,I not what travaill that ye mente.Confessor.Mi Sone, and after min ententeI woll thee telle what I thoghte,Hou whilom men here loves boghte1610Thurgh gret travaill in strange londes,Wher that thei wroghten with here hondesOf armes many a worthi dede,In sondri place as men mai rede.
[Tale of Jephthah’s Daughter.]
Among the Jewes, as men tolde,
Ther was whilom be daies olde
A noble Duck, which Jepte hihte.1220
Hic ponit exemplum super eodem: Et narrat de filia Iepte, que cum ex sui patris voto in holocaustum deo occidi et offerri deberet, ipsa pro eo quod virgo fuit et prolem ad augmentacionem populi dei nondum genuisset, xl. dierum spacium vt cum suis sodalibus virginibus suam defleret virginitatem, priusquam moreretur, in exemplum aliarum1221a patre postulauit.
And fell, he scholde go to fyhte
Ayein Amon the cruel king:
And forto speke upon this thing,1510
Withinne his herte he made avou1222
To god and seide, ‘Ha lord, if thou
Wolt grante unto thi man victoire,
I schal in tokne of thi memoire
The ferste lif that I mai se,
Of man or womman wher it be,
Anon as I come hom ayein,
To thee, which art god sovereign,
Slen in thi name and sacrifie.’
And thus with his chivalerie1520
He goth him forth, wher that he scholde,1223
And wan al that he winne wolde
And overcam his fomen alle.
Mai noman lette that schal falle.
P. ii. 53
This Duc a lusti dowhter hadde,1224
And fame, which the wordes spradde,
Hath broght unto this ladi Ere
How that hire fader hath do there.
Sche waiteth upon his cominge
With dansinge and with carolinge,1530
As sche that wolde be tofore
Al othre, and so sche was therfore1225
In Masphat at hir fader gate
The ferste; and whan he com therate,
And sih his douhter, he tobreide
Hise clothes and wepende he seide:
‘O mihti god among ous hiere,
Nou wot I that in no manere
This worldes joie mai be plein.
I hadde al that I coude sein1540
Ayein mi fomen be thi grace,1226
So whan I cam toward this place
Ther was non gladdere man than I:1227
But now, mi lord, al sodeinli
Mi joie is torned into sorwe,
For I mi dowhter schal tomorwe
Tohewe and brenne in thi servise
To loenge of thi sacrifise
Thurgh min avou, so as it is.’
The Maiden, whan sche wiste of this,1550
And sih the sorwe hir fader made,
So as sche mai with wordes glade
Conforteth him, and bad him holde
The covenant which he is holde
P. ii. 54
Towardes god, as he behihte.1228
Bot natheles hire herte aflihte
Of that sche sih hire deth comende;
And thanne unto the ground knelende1229
Tofore hir fader sche is falle,
And seith, so as it is befalle1560
Upon this point that sche schal deie,
Of o thing ferst sche wolde him preie,
That fourty daies of respit
He wolde hir grante upon this plit,
That sche the whyle mai bewepe
Hir maidenhod, which sche to kepe
So longe hath had and noght beset;1230
Wherof her lusti youthe is let,
That sche no children hath forthdrawe
In Mariage after the lawe,1570
So that the poeple is noght encressed.
Bot that it mihte be relessed,
That sche hir time hath lore so,
Sche wolde be his leve go
With othre Maidens to compleigne,
And afterward unto the peine
Of deth sche wolde come ayein.
The fader herde his douhter sein,
And therupon of on assent
The Maidens were anon asent,1580
That scholden with this Maiden wende.
So forto speke unto this ende,
Thei gon the dounes and the dales
With wepinge and with wofull tales,
P. ii. 55
And every wyht hire maidenhiede
Compleigneth upon thilke nede,
That sche no children hadde bore,
Wherof sche hath hir youthe lore,
Which nevere sche recovere mai:
For so fell that hir laste dai1590
Was come, in which sche scholde take
Hir deth, which sche may noght forsake.
Lo, thus sche deiede a wofull Maide
For thilke cause which I saide,
As thou hast understonde above.
Amans.
Mi fader, as toward the Love
Of Maidens forto telle trowthe,
Ye have thilke vice of Slowthe,
Me thenkth, riht wonder wel declared,
That ye the wommen have noght spared1600
Of hem that tarien so behinde.
Bot yit it falleth in my minde,
Toward the men hou that ye spieke
Of hem that wole no travail sieke
In cause of love upon decerte:
To speke in wordes so coverte,
I not what travaill that ye mente.
Confessor.
Mi Sone, and after min entente
I woll thee telle what I thoghte,
Hou whilom men here loves boghte1610
Thurgh gret travaill in strange londes,
Wher that thei wroghten with here hondes
Of armes many a worthi dede,
In sondri place as men mai rede.
P. ii. 56vi.Quem probat armorum probitas Venus approbat, et quem[Lovers must approve themselves in arms.]Torpor habet reprobum reprobat illa virum.Vecors segnicies insignia nescit amoris,Nam piger ad brauium tardius ipse venit.
P. ii. 56
vi.Quem probat armorum probitas Venus approbat, et quem
[Lovers must approve themselves in arms.]
Torpor habet reprobum reprobat illa virum.
Vecors segnicies insignia nescit amoris,
Nam piger ad brauium tardius ipse venit.
That every love of pure kindeIs ferst forthdrawe, wel I finde:Bot natheles yit overthisDecerte doth so that it isHic loquitur quod in amoris causa milicie probitas ad armorum laboris excercicium nullatenus1231torpescat.The rather had in mani place.Forthi who secheth loves grace,1620Wher that these worthi wommen are,He mai noght thanne himselve spareUpon his travail forto serve,Wherof that he mai thonk deserve,There as these men of Armes be,1232Somtime over the grete Se:So that be londe and ek be SchipeHe mot travaile for worschipeAnd make manye hastyf rodes,Somtime in Prus, somtime in Rodes,1630And somtime into Tartarie;So that these heraldz on him crie,‘Vailant, vailant, lo, wher he goth!’And thanne he yifth hem gold and cloth,So that his fame mihte springe,And to his ladi Ere bringeSom tidinge of his worthinesse;1233So that sche mihte of his prouesceOf that sche herde men recorde,The betre unto his love acorde12341640And danger pute out of hire mod,Whanne alle men recorden good,P. ii. 57And that sche wot wel, for hir sakeThat he no travail wol forsake.Confessor.Mi Sone, of this travail I meene:Nou schrif thee, for it schal be seneIf thou art ydel in this cas.Confessio Amantis.My fader ye, and evere was:[Arguments to the Contrary.]For as me thenketh trewelyThat every man doth mor than I1650As of this point, and if so isThat I have oght so don er this,It is so litel ofacompte,As who seith, it mai noght amonteTo winne of love his lusti yifte.For this I telle you in schrifte,That me were levere hir love winneThan Kaire and al that is ther inne:And forto slen the hethen alle,I not what good ther mihte falle,1660So mochel blod thogh ther be schad.This finde I writen, hou Crist badThat noman other scholde sle.What scholde I winne over the Se,If I mi ladi loste at hom?Bot passe thei the salte fom,To whom Crist bad thei scholden precheToal the world and his feith teche:Bot now thei rucken in here nestAnd resten as hem liketh best12351670In all the swetnesse of delices.Thus thei defenden ous the vices,P. ii. 58And sitte hemselven al amidde;To slen and feihten thei ous biddeHem whom thei scholde, as the bok seith,Converten unto Cristes feith.Bot hierof have I gret mervaile,Hou thei wol bidde me travaile:A Sarazin if I sle schal,I sle the Soule forth withal,1680And that was nevere Cristes lore.Bot nou ho ther, I seie nomore.Bot I wol speke upon mi schrifte;And to Cupide I make a yifte,That who as evere pris deserveOf armes, I wol love serve;And thogh I scholde hem bothe kepe,Als wel yit wolde I take kepeWhan it were time to abide,As forto travaile and to ryde:12361690For how as evere a man laboure,Cupide appointed hath his houre.Hic allegat Amans in sui excusacionem, qualiter Achilles apud Troiam propter amorem Polixenen arma sua per aliquod tempus dimisit.For I have herd it telle also,1237Achilles lefte hise armes soBothe of himself and of his menAt Troie for Polixenen,Upon hire love whanne he fell,That for no chance that befellAmong the Grecs or up or doun,He wolde noght ayein the toun1700Ben armed, for the love of hire.1238And so me thenketh, lieve Sire,P. ii. 59A man of armes mai him resteSomtime in hope for the beste,If he mai finde a weie nerr.1239What scholde I thanne go so ferr1240In strange londes many a mileTo ryde, and lese at hom therwhile1241Mi love? It were a schort beyeteTo winne chaf and lese whete.1710Bot if mi ladi bidde wolde,That I for hire love scholdeTravaile, me thenkth trewelyI mihte fle thurghout the Sky,And go thurghout the depe Se,For al ne sette I at a streWhat thonk that I mihte elles gete.What helpeth it a man have mete,Wher drinke lacketh on the bord?What helpeth eny mannes word1720To seie hou I travaile faste,Wher as me faileth ate lasteThat thing which I travaile fore?O in good time were he bore,That mihte atteigne such a mede.Bot certes if I mihte spedeWith eny maner besinesseOf worldes travail, thanne I gesse,Ther scholde me non ydelschipeDeparten fro hir ladischipe.1730Bot this I se, on daies nouThe blinde god, I wot noght hou,P. ii. 60Cupido, which of love is lord,He set the thinges in discord,That thei that lest to love entendeFulofte he wole hem yive and sendeMost of his grace; and thus I findeThat he that scholde go behinde,1242Goth many a time ferr tofore:So wot I noght riht wel therfore,12431740On whether bord that I schal seile.Thus can I noght miself conseile,Bot al I sette on aventure,And am, as who seith, out of cureFor ought that I can seie or do:For everemore I finde it so,The more besinesse I leie,The more that I knele and preieWith goode wordes and with softe,The more I am refused ofte,1750With besinesse and mai noght winne.And in good feith that is gret Sinne;1244For I mai seie, of dede and thoghtThat ydel man have I be noght;For hou as evere I be deslaied,Yit evermore I have assaied.Bot thogh my besinesse laste,Al is bot ydel ate laste,For whan theffect is ydelnesse,I not what thing is besinesse.1760Sei, what availeth al the dede,Which nothing helpeth ate nede?P. ii. 61For the fortune of every fameSchal of his ende bere a name.And thus for oght is yit befalle,An ydel man I wol me calleAs after myn entendement:Bot upon youre amendement,[The Confessor replies.]Min holi fader, as you semeth,1245Mi reson and my cause demeth.1770Confessor.Mi Sone, I have herd thi matiere,Of that thou hast thee schriven hiere:And forto speke of ydel fare,Me semeth that thou tharst noght care,Bot only that thou miht noght spede.And therof, Sone, I wol thee rede,Abyd, and haste noght to faste;Thi dees ben every dai to caste,Thou nost what chance schal betyde.Betre is to wayte upon the tyde12461780Than rowe ayein the stremes stronge:For thogh so be thee thenketh longe,Per cas the revolucionOf hevene and thi condicionNe be noght yit of on acord.Bot I dar make this recordTo Venus, whos Prest that I am,That sithen that I hidir camTo hiere, as sche me bad, thi lif,Wherof thou elles be gultif,1790Thou miht hierof thi conscienceExcuse, and of gret diligence,P. ii. 62Which thou to love hast so despended,Thou oghtest wel to be comended.Bot if so be that ther oght faile,Of that thou slowthest to travaileIn armes forto ben absent,And for thou makst an argumentOf that thou seidest hiere above,Hou Achilles thurgh strengthe of love1800Hise armes lefte for a throwe,Thou schalt an other tale knowe,Which is contraire, as thou schalt wite.For this a man mai finde write,Whan that knyhthode schal be werred,1247Lust mai noght thanne be preferred;The bedd mot thanne be forsakeAnd Schield and spere on honde take,Which thing schal make hem after glade,Whan thei ben worthi knihtes made.1810Wherof, so as it comth to honde,A tale thou schalt understonde,Hou that a kniht schal armes suie,And for the while his ese eschuie.
That every love of pure kinde
Is ferst forthdrawe, wel I finde:
Bot natheles yit overthis
Decerte doth so that it is
Hic loquitur quod in amoris causa milicie probitas ad armorum laboris excercicium nullatenus1231torpescat.
The rather had in mani place.
Forthi who secheth loves grace,1620
Wher that these worthi wommen are,
He mai noght thanne himselve spare
Upon his travail forto serve,
Wherof that he mai thonk deserve,
There as these men of Armes be,1232
Somtime over the grete Se:
So that be londe and ek be Schipe
He mot travaile for worschipe
And make manye hastyf rodes,
Somtime in Prus, somtime in Rodes,1630
And somtime into Tartarie;
So that these heraldz on him crie,
‘Vailant, vailant, lo, wher he goth!’
And thanne he yifth hem gold and cloth,
So that his fame mihte springe,
And to his ladi Ere bringe
Som tidinge of his worthinesse;1233
So that sche mihte of his prouesce
Of that sche herde men recorde,
The betre unto his love acorde12341640
And danger pute out of hire mod,
Whanne alle men recorden good,
P. ii. 57
And that sche wot wel, for hir sake
That he no travail wol forsake.
Confessor.
Mi Sone, of this travail I meene:
Nou schrif thee, for it schal be sene
If thou art ydel in this cas.
Confessio Amantis.
My fader ye, and evere was:
[Arguments to the Contrary.]
For as me thenketh trewely
That every man doth mor than I1650
As of this point, and if so is
That I have oght so don er this,
It is so litel ofacompte,
As who seith, it mai noght amonte
To winne of love his lusti yifte.
For this I telle you in schrifte,
That me were levere hir love winne
Than Kaire and al that is ther inne:
And forto slen the hethen alle,
I not what good ther mihte falle,1660
So mochel blod thogh ther be schad.
This finde I writen, hou Crist bad
That noman other scholde sle.
What scholde I winne over the Se,
If I mi ladi loste at hom?
Bot passe thei the salte fom,
To whom Crist bad thei scholden preche
Toal the world and his feith teche:
Bot now thei rucken in here nest
And resten as hem liketh best12351670
In all the swetnesse of delices.
Thus thei defenden ous the vices,
P. ii. 58
And sitte hemselven al amidde;
To slen and feihten thei ous bidde
Hem whom thei scholde, as the bok seith,
Converten unto Cristes feith.
Bot hierof have I gret mervaile,
Hou thei wol bidde me travaile:
A Sarazin if I sle schal,
I sle the Soule forth withal,1680
And that was nevere Cristes lore.
Bot nou ho ther, I seie nomore.
Bot I wol speke upon mi schrifte;
And to Cupide I make a yifte,
That who as evere pris deserve
Of armes, I wol love serve;
And thogh I scholde hem bothe kepe,
Als wel yit wolde I take kepe
Whan it were time to abide,
As forto travaile and to ryde:12361690
For how as evere a man laboure,
Cupide appointed hath his houre.
Hic allegat Amans in sui excusacionem, qualiter Achilles apud Troiam propter amorem Polixenen arma sua per aliquod tempus dimisit.
For I have herd it telle also,1237
Achilles lefte hise armes so
Bothe of himself and of his men
At Troie for Polixenen,
Upon hire love whanne he fell,
That for no chance that befell
Among the Grecs or up or doun,
He wolde noght ayein the toun1700
Ben armed, for the love of hire.1238
And so me thenketh, lieve Sire,
P. ii. 59
A man of armes mai him reste
Somtime in hope for the beste,
If he mai finde a weie nerr.1239
What scholde I thanne go so ferr1240
In strange londes many a mile
To ryde, and lese at hom therwhile1241
Mi love? It were a schort beyete
To winne chaf and lese whete.1710
Bot if mi ladi bidde wolde,
That I for hire love scholde
Travaile, me thenkth trewely
I mihte fle thurghout the Sky,
And go thurghout the depe Se,
For al ne sette I at a stre
What thonk that I mihte elles gete.
What helpeth it a man have mete,
Wher drinke lacketh on the bord?
What helpeth eny mannes word1720
To seie hou I travaile faste,
Wher as me faileth ate laste
That thing which I travaile fore?
O in good time were he bore,
That mihte atteigne such a mede.
Bot certes if I mihte spede
With eny maner besinesse
Of worldes travail, thanne I gesse,
Ther scholde me non ydelschipe
Departen fro hir ladischipe.1730
Bot this I se, on daies nou
The blinde god, I wot noght hou,
P. ii. 60
Cupido, which of love is lord,
He set the thinges in discord,
That thei that lest to love entende
Fulofte he wole hem yive and sende
Most of his grace; and thus I finde
That he that scholde go behinde,1242
Goth many a time ferr tofore:
So wot I noght riht wel therfore,12431740
On whether bord that I schal seile.
Thus can I noght miself conseile,
Bot al I sette on aventure,
And am, as who seith, out of cure
For ought that I can seie or do:
For everemore I finde it so,
The more besinesse I leie,
The more that I knele and preie
With goode wordes and with softe,
The more I am refused ofte,1750
With besinesse and mai noght winne.
And in good feith that is gret Sinne;1244
For I mai seie, of dede and thoght
That ydel man have I be noght;
For hou as evere I be deslaied,
Yit evermore I have assaied.
Bot thogh my besinesse laste,
Al is bot ydel ate laste,
For whan theffect is ydelnesse,
I not what thing is besinesse.1760
Sei, what availeth al the dede,
Which nothing helpeth ate nede?
P. ii. 61
For the fortune of every fame
Schal of his ende bere a name.
And thus for oght is yit befalle,
An ydel man I wol me calle
As after myn entendement:
Bot upon youre amendement,
[The Confessor replies.]
Min holi fader, as you semeth,1245
Mi reson and my cause demeth.1770
Confessor.
Mi Sone, I have herd thi matiere,
Of that thou hast thee schriven hiere:
And forto speke of ydel fare,
Me semeth that thou tharst noght care,
Bot only that thou miht noght spede.
And therof, Sone, I wol thee rede,
Abyd, and haste noght to faste;
Thi dees ben every dai to caste,
Thou nost what chance schal betyde.
Betre is to wayte upon the tyde12461780
Than rowe ayein the stremes stronge:
For thogh so be thee thenketh longe,
Per cas the revolucion
Of hevene and thi condicion
Ne be noght yit of on acord.
Bot I dar make this record
To Venus, whos Prest that I am,
That sithen that I hidir cam
To hiere, as sche me bad, thi lif,
Wherof thou elles be gultif,1790
Thou miht hierof thi conscience
Excuse, and of gret diligence,
P. ii. 62
Which thou to love hast so despended,
Thou oghtest wel to be comended.
Bot if so be that ther oght faile,
Of that thou slowthest to travaile
In armes forto ben absent,
And for thou makst an argument
Of that thou seidest hiere above,
Hou Achilles thurgh strengthe of love1800
Hise armes lefte for a throwe,
Thou schalt an other tale knowe,
Which is contraire, as thou schalt wite.
For this a man mai finde write,
Whan that knyhthode schal be werred,1247
Lust mai noght thanne be preferred;
The bedd mot thanne be forsake
And Schield and spere on honde take,
Which thing schal make hem after glade,
Whan thei ben worthi knihtes made.1810
Wherof, so as it comth to honde,
A tale thou schalt understonde,
Hou that a kniht schal armes suie,
And for the while his ese eschuie.