Chapter 52

[Tale of Ceix and Alceone.]P. ii. 100This finde I write in Poesie:Ceïx the king of TrocinieHic ponit exemplum, qualiter Sompnia prenostice veritatis quandoque certitudinem figurant. Et narrat quod, cum Ceix Rex Trocinie pro reformacione fratris sui Dedalionis in Ancipitrem transmutati peregre proficiscens in mari longius a patria dimersus1362fuerat, Iuno mittens Yridem nunciam suam in partes Chymerie ad domum Sompni, iussit quod ipse Alceone dicti Regis uxori huius rei euentum per Sompnia certificaret. Quo facto1363Alceona rem perscrutans corpus mariti sui, vbi super fluctus mortuus1364iactabatur, inuenit; que pre dolore angustiata cupiens corpus amplectere, in altum mare super ipsum prosiliit. Vnde dii miserti amborum corpora in aues, que adhuc Alceones dicte sunt, subito conuerterunt.Hadde Alceone to his wif,Which as hire oghne hertes lif2930Him loveth; and he hadde alsoA brother, which was cleped thoDedalion, and he per casFro kinde of man forschape wasInto a Goshauk of liknesse;Wherof the king gret hevynesseHath take, and thoghte in his corageTo gon upon a pelrinageInto a strange regioun,Wher he hath his devocioun2940To don his sacrifice and preie,If that he mihte in eny weieToward the goddes finde graceHis brother hele to pourchace,So that he mihte be reformedOf that he hadde be transformed.To this pourpos and to this endeThis king is redy forto wende,As he which wolde go be Schipe;And forto don him felaschipe2950His wif unto the See him broghte,With al hire herte and him besoghte,That he the time hire wolde sein,Whan that he thoghte come ayein:1365‘Withinne,’ he seith, ‘tuo Monthe day.’1366And thus in al the haste he mayP. ii. 101He tok his leve, and forth he seilethWepende, and sche hirself beweileth,And torneth hom, ther sche cam fro.Bot whan the Monthes were ago,2960The whiche he sette of his comynge,And that sche herde no tydinge,Ther was no care forto seche:Wherof the goddes to besecheTho sche began in many wise,And to Juno hire sacrifiseAbove alle othre most sche dede,And for hir lord sche hath so bedeTo wite and knowe hou that he ferde,That Juno the goddesse hire herde,2970Anon and upon this matiereSche bad Yris hir MessagereTo Slepes hous that sche schal wende,1367And bidde him that he make an endeBe swevene and schewen al the casUnto this ladi, hou it was.This Yris, fro the hihe stageWhich undertake hath the Message,Hire reyny Cope dede upon,The which was wonderli begon2980With colours of diverse hewe,An hundred mo than men it knewe;The hevene lich unto a boweSche bende, and so she cam doun lowe,1368The god of Slep wher that sche fond.And that was in a strange lond,P. ii. 102Which marcheth upon Chymerie:For ther, as seith the Poesie,The god of Slep hath mad his hous,Which of entaille is merveilous.2990Under an hell ther is a Cave,Which of the Sonne mai noght have,1369So that noman mai knowe arihtThe point betwen the dai and nyht:1370Ther is no fyr, ther is no sparke,Ther is no dore, which mai charke,Wherof an yhe scholde unschette,1371So that inward ther is no lette.And forto speke of that withoute,Ther stant no gret Tree nyh aboute3000Wher on ther myhte crowe or pieAlihte, forto clepe or crie:Ther is no cok to crowe day,Ne beste non which noise mayThe hell, bot al aboute roundTher is growende upon the groundPopi, which berth the sed of slep,With othre herbes suche an hep.A stille water for the nonesRennende upon the smale stones,3010Which hihte of Lethes the rivere,Under that hell in such manereTher is, which yifth gret appetitTo slepe. And thus full of delitSlep hath his hous; and of his coucheWithinne his chambre if I schal touche,P. ii. 103Of hebenus that slepi TreeThe bordes al aboute be,And for he scholde slepe softe,Upon a fethrebed alofte3020He lith with many a pilwe of doun:The chambre is strowed up and dounWith swevenes many thousendfold.1372Thus cam Yris into this hold,And to the bedd, which is al blak,Sche goth, and ther with Slep sche spak,And in the wise as sche was bede1373The Message of Juno sche dede.Fulofte hir wordes sche reherceth,Er sche his slepi Eres perceth;3030With mochel wo bot ate lasteHis slombrende yhen he upcasteAnd seide hir that it schal be do.1374Wherof among a thousend tho,Withinne his hous that slepi were,In special he ches out thereThre, whiche scholden do this dede:The ferste of hem, so as I rede,Was Morpheüs, the whos natureIs forto take the figure3040Of what persone that him liketh,Wherof that he fulofte entrikethThe lif which slepe schal be nyhte;And Ithecus that other hihte,Which hath the vois of every soun,The chiere and the condiciounP. ii. 104Of every lif, what so it is:The thridde suiende after thisIs Panthasas, which may transformeOf every thing the rihte forme,3050And change it in an other kinde.Upon hem thre, so as I finde,Of swevenes stant al thapparence,Which otherwhile is evidenceAnd otherwhile bot a jape.Bot natheles it is so schape,1375That Morpheüs be nyht al oneAppiereth until Alceone1376In liknesse of hir housebondeAl naked ded upon the stronde,3060And hou he dreynte in specialThese othre tuo it schewen al.The tempeste of the blake cloude,The wode See, the wyndes loude,Al this sche mette, and sih him dyen;Wherof that sche began to crien,Slepende abedde ther sche lay,And with that noise of hire affrayHir wommen sterten up aboute,Whiche of here ladi were in doute,3070And axen hire hou that sche ferde;And sche, riht as sche syh and herde,Hir swevene hath told hem everydel.And thei it halsen alle wel1377And sein it is a tokne of goode;Bot til sche wiste hou that it stode,P. ii. 105Sche hath no confort in hire herte,Upon the morwe and up sche sterte,And to the See, wher that sche mette1378The bodi lay, withoute lette3080Sche drowh, and whan that sche cam nyh,Stark ded, hise armes sprad, sche syh1379Hire lord flietende upon the wawe.Wherof hire wittes ben withdrawe,And sche, which tok of deth no kepe,Anon forth lepte into the depe1380And wolde have cawht him in hire arm.This infortune of double harmThe goddes fro the hevene aboveBehielde, and for the trowthe of love,3090Which in this worthi ladi stod,Thei have upon the salte flodHire dreinte lord and hire alsoFro deth to lyve torned so,That thei ben schapen into briddesSwimmende upon the wawe amiddes.And whan sche sih hire lord livendeIn liknesse of a bridd swimmende,And sche was of the same sort,So as sche mihte do desport,3100Upon the joie which sche haddeHire wynges bothe abrod sche spradde,And him, so as sche mai suffise,Beclipte and keste in such a wise,As sche was whilom wont to do:Hire wynges for hire armes tuoP. ii. 106Sche tok, and for hire lippes softeHire harde bile, and so fulofteSche fondeth in hire briddes forme,If that sche mihte hirself conforme3110To do the plesance of a wif,As sche dede in that other lif:For thogh sche hadde hir pouer lore,Hir will stod as it was tofore,And serveth him so as sche mai.Wherof into this ilke dayTogedre upon the See thei wone,Wher many a dowhter and a SoneThei bringen forth of briddes kinde;And for men scholden take in mynde3120This Alceoun the trewe queene,Hire briddes yit, as it is seene,Of Alceoun the name bere.Confessor.Lo thus, mi Sone, it mai thee stereOf swevenes forto take kepe,For ofte time a man aslepeMai se what after schal betide.Forthi it helpeth at som tydeA man to slepe, as it belongeth,1381Bot slowthe no lif underfongeth3130Which is to love appourtenant.Confessio Amantis.Mi fader, upon covenant1382I dar wel make this avou,Of all mi lif that into nou,Als fer as I can understonde,Yit tok I nevere Slep on honde,P. ii. 107Whan it was time forto wake;For thogh myn yhe it wolde take,1383Min herte is evere therayein.[Sleeping and Waking.]Bot natheles to speke it plein,13843140Al this that I have seid you hiere1385Of my wakinge, as ye mai hiere,1386It toucheth to mi lady swete;For otherwise, I you behiete,In strange place whanne I go,Me list nothing to wake so.For whan the wommen listen pleie,And I hir se noght in the weie,Of whom I scholde merthe take,Me list noght longe forto wake,3150Bot if it be for pure schame,Of that I wolde eschuie a name,That thei ne scholde have cause non1387To seie, ‘Ha, lo, wher goth such on,1388That hath forlore his contenaunce!’And thus among I singe and daunce,And feigne lust ther as non is.For ofte sithe I fiele this;Of thoght, which in mi herte falleth1389Whanne it is nyht, myn hed appalleth,3160And that is for I se hire noght,Which is the wakere of mi thoght:And thus as tymliche as I may,Fulofte whanne it is brod day,I take of all these othre leve1390And go my weie, and thei beleve,P. ii. 108That sen per cas here loves there;And I go forth as noght ne wereUnto mi bedd, so that al oneI mai ther ligge and sighe and grone3170And wisshen al the longe nyht,Til that I se the daies lyht.I not if that be Sompnolence,Bot upon youre conscience,Min holi fader, demeth ye.Confessor.My Sone, I am wel paid with thee,Of Slep that thou the SluggardieBe nyhte in loves compaignieEschuied hast, and do thi peineSo that thi love thar noght pleine:3180For love upon his lust wakendeIs evere, and wolde that non endeWere of the longe nyhtes set.Wherof that thou be war the bet,To telle a tale I am bethoght,Hou love and Slep acorden noght.[The Prayer of Cephalus.]For love who that list to wakeBe nyhte, he mai ensample takeOf Cephalus, whan that he layHic dicit quod vigilia in Amantibus et non Sompnolencia laudanda est. Et ponit exemplum de Cephalo filio Phebi, qui nocturno cilencio Auroram amicam suam diligencius amplectens, Solem et lunam interpellabat, videlicet quod Sol in circulo ab oriente distanciori currum cum luce sua1391retardaret, et quod luna spera sua longissima orbem circuiens noctem continuaret; ita vt1392ipsum Cephalum amplexibus Aurore volutum, priusquam dies illa1393illucesceret, suis deliciis adquiescere diucius permittere dignarentur.1394With Aurora that swete may13953190In armes all the longe nyht.Bot whanne it drogh toward the liht,That he withinne his herte sihThe dai which was amorwe nyh,Anon unto the Sonne he preideFor lust of love, and thus he seide:P. ii. 109‘O Phebus, which the daies lihtGovernest, til that it be nyht,And gladest every creatureAfter the lawe of thi nature,—3200Bot natheles ther is a thing,Which onli to the knoulechingBelongeth as in priveteTo love and to his duete,Which asketh noght to ben apert,Bot in cilence and in covert1396Desireth forto be beschaded:And thus whan that thi liht is fadedAnd Vesper scheweth him alofte,And that the nyht is long and softe,3210Under the cloudes derke and stilleThanne hath this thing most of his wille.Forthi unto thi myhtes hyhe,As thou which art the daies yhe,Of love and myht no conseil hyde,Upon this derke nyhtes tydeWith al myn herte I thee besecheThat I plesance myhte secheWith hire which lith in min armes.Withdrawgh the Banere of thin Armes,3220And let thi lyhtes ben unborn,1397And in the Signe of Capricorn,The hous appropred to Satorne,I preie that thou wolt sojorne,Wher ben the nihtes derke and longe:For I mi love have underfonge,P. ii. 110Which lith hier be mi syde naked,As sche which wolde ben awaked,And me lest nothing forto slepe.So were it good to take kepe3230Nou at this nede of mi preiere,And that the like forto stiereThi fyri Carte, and so ordeigne,1398That thou thi swifte hors restreigneLowe under Erthe in Occident,That thei towardes OrientBe Cercle go the longe weie.And ek to thee, Diane, I preie,Which cleped art of thi noblesseThe nyhtes Mone and the goddesse,3240That thou to me be gracious:And in Cancro thin oghne housAyein Phebus in oppositStond al this time, and of delit1399Behold Venus with a glad yhe.For thanne upon AstronomieOf due constellacionThou makst prolificacion,And dost that children ben begete:Which grace if that I mihte gete,14003250With al myn herte I wolde serveBe nyhte, and thi vigile observe.’1401Confessor.Lo, thus this lusti CephalusPreide unto Phebe and to PhebusThe nyht in lengthe forto drawe,1402So that he mihte do the laweP. ii. 111In thilke point of loves heste,Which cleped is the nyhtes feste,Withoute Slep of sluggardie;1403Which Venus out of compaignie3260Hath put awey, as thilke same,Which lustles ferr from alle gameIn chambre doth fulofte wo1404Abedde, whanne it falleth soThat love scholde ben awaited.But Slowthe, which is evele affaited,With Slep hath mad his retenue,That what thing is to love due,Of all his dette he paieth non:He wot noght how the nyht is gon3270Ne hou the day is come aboute,Bot onli forto slepe and routeTil hyh midday, that he arise.Bot Cephalus dede otherwise,As thou, my Sone, hast herd above.Amans.Mi fader, who that hath his loveAbedde naked be his syde,And wolde thanne hise yhen hydeWith Slep, I not what man is he:Bot certes as touchende of me,3280That fell me nevere yit er this.Bot otherwhile, whan so isThat I mai cacche Slep on hondeLiggende al one, thanne I fondeTo dreme a merie swevene er day;And if so falle that I mayP. ii. 112Mi thought with such a swevene plese,Me thenkth I am somdiel in ese,1405For I non other confort have.So nedeth noght that I schal crave3290The Sonnes Carte forto tarie,Ne yit the Mone, that sche carieHire cours along upon the hevene,For I am noght the more in eveneTowardes love in no degree:Bot in mi slep yit thanne I seSomwhat in swevene of that me liketh,Which afterward min herte entriketh,Whan that I finde it otherwise.So wot I noght of what servise3300That Slep to mannes ese doth.Confessor.Mi Sone, certes thou seist soth,Bot only that it helpeth kindeSomtyme, in Phisique as I finde,Whan it is take be mesure:Bot he which can no Slep mesureUpon the reule as it belongeth,Fulofte of sodein chance he fongeth1406Such infortune that him grieveth.Bot who these olde bokes lieveth,3310Of Sompnolence hou it is write,Ther may a man the sothe wite,If that he wolde ensample take,That otherwhile is good to wake:Wherof a tale in PoesieI thenke forto specefie.[Argus and Mercury.]P. ii. 113Ovide telleth in his sawes,How Jupiter be olde dawesHic loquitur in amoris causa contra istos qui Sompnolencie dediti ea que seruare tenentur amittunt. Et narrat quod, cum Yo puella pulcherima a Iunone in vaccam transformata et in Argi custodiam sic deposita fuisset, superueniens Mercurius Argum dormientem occidit, et ipsam vaccam a pastura rapiens, quo voluit secum perduxit.Lay be a Mayde, which YoWas cleped, wherof that Juno3320His wif was wroth, and the goddesseOf Yo torneth the liknesse1407Into a cow, to gon therouteThe large fieldes al abouteAnd gete hire mete upon the griene.And therupon this hyhe queeneBetok hire Argus forto kepe,For he was selden wont to slepe,And yit he hadde an hundred yhen,And alle alyche wel thei syhen.3330Now herkne hou that he was beguiled.Mercurie, which was al affiledThis Cow to stele, he cam desguised,And hadde a Pipe wel devisedUpon the notes of Musiqe,Wherof he mihte hise Eres like.And over that he hadde affaited1408Hise lusti tales, and awaitedHis time; and thus into the fieldHe cam, where Argus he behield3340With Yo, which beside him wente.1409With that his Pype on honde he hente,And gan to pipe in his manereThing which was slepi forto hiere;And in his pipinge evere amongHe tolde him such a lusti song,P. ii. 114That he the fol hath broght aslepe.Ther was non yhe mihte kepeHis hed, the which Mercurie of smot,1410And forth withal anon fot hot3350He stal the Cow which Argus kepte,And al this fell for that he slepte.Ensample it was to manye mo,That mochel Slep doth ofte wo,Whan it is time forto wake:1411For if a man this vice take,In Sompnolence and him delite,Men scholde upon his Dore wryteHis epitaphe, as on his grave;For he to spille and noght to save3360Is schape, as thogh he were ded.1412Confessor.Forthi, mi Sone, hold up thin hed,And let no Slep thin yhe englue,Bot whanne it is to resoun due.Amans.Mi fader, as touchende of this,Riht so as I you tolde it is,1413That ofte abedde, whanne I scholde,I mai noght slepe, thogh I wolde;For love is evere faste byme,Which takth no hiede of due time.14143370For whanne I schal myn yhen close,Anon min herte he wole opposeAnd holde his Scole in such a wise,Til it be day that I arise,That selde it is whan that I slepe.And thus fro Sompnolence I kepeP. ii. 115Min yhe: and forthi if ther beOght elles more in this degre,Now axeth forth.Confessor.Mi Sone, yis:For Slowthe, which as Moder is3380The forthdrawere and the NorriceTo man of many a dredful vice,Hath yit an other laste of alle,Which many a man hath mad to falle,Wher that he mihte nevere arise;Wherof for thou thee schalt avise,Er thou so with thiself misfare,What vice it is I wol declare.[vii.Tristesse or Despondency.]ix.Nil fortuna iuuat, vbi desperacio ledit;1415Quo desiccat humor, non viridescit humus.Magnanimus set amor spem ponit et inde salutemConsequitur, quod ei prospera fata fauent.Whan Slowthe hath don al that he mayHic loquitur super vltima specie Accidie, que Tristicia siue Desperacio dicitur, cuius obstinata condicio tocius consolacionis spem deponens, alicuius remedii, quo liberari poterit,1416fortunam sibi euenire impossibile credit.To dryve forth the longe day,3390Til it be come to the nede,Thanne ate laste upon the dedeHe loketh hou his time is lore,And is so wo begon therfore,That he withinne his thoght conceivethTristesce, and so himself deceiveth,That he wanhope bringeth inne,Wher is no confort to beginne,Bot every joie him is deslaied:So that withinne his herte affraied3400A thousend time with o breth1417Wepende he wissheth after deth,P. ii. 116Whan he fortune fint adverse.For thanne he wole his hap reherce,As thogh his world were al forlore,And seith, ‘Helas, that I was bore!Hou schal I live? hou schal I do?For nou fortune is thus mi fo,I wot wel god me wol noght helpe.What scholde I thanne of joies yelpe,3410Whan ther no bote is of mi care?So overcast is my welfare,That I am schapen al to strif.Helas, that I nere of this lif,Er I be fulliche overtake!’And thus he wol his sorwe make,As god him mihte noght availe:Bot yit ne wol he noght travaileTo helpe himself at such a nede,Bot slowtheth under such a drede,3420Which is affermed in his herte,Riht as he mihte noght asterteThe worldes wo which he is inne.Also whan he is falle in Sinne,Him thenkth he is so ferr coupable,That god wol noght be merciableSo gret a Sinne to foryive;1418And thus he leeveth to be schrive.And if a man in thilke throweWolde him consaile, he wol noght knowe3430The sothe, thogh a man it finde:For Tristesce is of such a kinde,P. ii. 117That forto meintiene his folie,Obstinacio est contradiccio veritatis agnite.He hath with him Obstinacie,Which is withinne of such a Slouthe,That he forsaketh alle trouthe,And wole unto no reson bowe;1419And yit ne can he noght avoweHis oghne skile bot of hed:Thus dwyneth he, til he be ded,3440In hindringe of his oghne astat.For where a man is obstinat,Wanhope folweth ate laste,1420Which mai noght after longe laste,Till Slouthe make of him an ende.Bot god wot whider he schal wende.Confessor.Mi Sone, and riht in such manereTher be lovers of hevy chiere,That sorwen mor than it is ned,1421Whan thei be taried of here sped3450And conne noght hemselven rede,Bot lesen hope forto spedeAnd stinten love to poursewe;And thus thei faden hyde and hewe,And lustles in here hertes waxe.Hierof it is that I wolde axe,If thou, mi Sone, art on of tho.Confessio Amantis.Ha, goode fader, it is so,Outake a point, I am beknowe;1422For elles I am overthrowe3460In al that evere ye have seid.Mi sorwe is everemore unteid,P. ii. 118And secheth overal my veines;Bot forto conseile of mi peines,I can no bote do therto;And thus withouten hope I go,So that mi wittes ben empeired,And I, as who seith, am despeiredTo winne love of thilke swete,Withoute whom, I you behiete,3470Min herte, that is so bestad,Riht inly nevere mai be glad.For be my trouthe I schal noght lie,Of pure sorwe, which I dryeFor that sche seith sche wol me noght,With drecchinge of myn oghne thoghtIn such a wanhope I am falle,That I ne can unethes calle,As forto speke of eny grace,1423Mi ladi merci to pourchace.3480Bot yit I seie noght for thisThat al in mi defalte it is;For I cam nevere yit in stede,Whan time was, that I my bede1424Ne seide, and as I dorste tolde:Bot nevere fond I that sche wolde,For oght sche knew of min entente,To speke a goodly word assente.And natheles this dar I seie,1425That if a sinful wolde preie3490To god of his foryivenesseWith half so gret a besinesseP. ii. 119As I have do to my ladi,In lacke of askinge of merciHe scholde nevere come in Helle.And thus I mai you sothli telle,Save only that I crie and bidde,I am in Tristesce al amiddeAnd fulfild of Desesperance:And therof yif me mi penance,3500Min holi fader, as you liketh.Confessor.Mi Sone, of that thin herte siketh1426With sorwe, miht thou noght amende,Til love his grace wol thee sende,For thou thin oghne cause empeirestWhat time as thou thiself despeirest.I not what otherthing availeth,Of hope whan the herte faileth,For such a Sor is incurable,And ek the goddes ben vengable:3510And that a man mai riht wel frede,These olde bokes who so rede,Of thing which hath befalle er this:Now hier of what ensample it is.

[Tale of Ceix and Alceone.]

P. ii. 100

This finde I write in Poesie:

Ceïx the king of Trocinie

Hic ponit exemplum, qualiter Sompnia prenostice veritatis quandoque certitudinem figurant. Et narrat quod, cum Ceix Rex Trocinie pro reformacione fratris sui Dedalionis in Ancipitrem transmutati peregre proficiscens in mari longius a patria dimersus1362fuerat, Iuno mittens Yridem nunciam suam in partes Chymerie ad domum Sompni, iussit quod ipse Alceone dicti Regis uxori huius rei euentum per Sompnia certificaret. Quo facto1363Alceona rem perscrutans corpus mariti sui, vbi super fluctus mortuus1364iactabatur, inuenit; que pre dolore angustiata cupiens corpus amplectere, in altum mare super ipsum prosiliit. Vnde dii miserti amborum corpora in aues, que adhuc Alceones dicte sunt, subito conuerterunt.

Hadde Alceone to his wif,

Which as hire oghne hertes lif2930

Him loveth; and he hadde also

A brother, which was cleped tho

Dedalion, and he per cas

Fro kinde of man forschape was

Into a Goshauk of liknesse;

Wherof the king gret hevynesse

Hath take, and thoghte in his corage

To gon upon a pelrinage

Into a strange regioun,

Wher he hath his devocioun2940

To don his sacrifice and preie,

If that he mihte in eny weie

Toward the goddes finde grace

His brother hele to pourchace,

So that he mihte be reformed

Of that he hadde be transformed.

To this pourpos and to this ende

This king is redy forto wende,

As he which wolde go be Schipe;

And forto don him felaschipe2950

His wif unto the See him broghte,

With al hire herte and him besoghte,

That he the time hire wolde sein,

Whan that he thoghte come ayein:1365

‘Withinne,’ he seith, ‘tuo Monthe day.’1366

And thus in al the haste he may

P. ii. 101

He tok his leve, and forth he seileth

Wepende, and sche hirself beweileth,

And torneth hom, ther sche cam fro.

Bot whan the Monthes were ago,2960

The whiche he sette of his comynge,

And that sche herde no tydinge,

Ther was no care forto seche:

Wherof the goddes to beseche

Tho sche began in many wise,

And to Juno hire sacrifise

Above alle othre most sche dede,

And for hir lord sche hath so bede

To wite and knowe hou that he ferde,

That Juno the goddesse hire herde,2970

Anon and upon this matiere

Sche bad Yris hir Messagere

To Slepes hous that sche schal wende,1367

And bidde him that he make an ende

Be swevene and schewen al the cas

Unto this ladi, hou it was.

This Yris, fro the hihe stage

Which undertake hath the Message,

Hire reyny Cope dede upon,

The which was wonderli begon2980

With colours of diverse hewe,

An hundred mo than men it knewe;

The hevene lich unto a bowe

Sche bende, and so she cam doun lowe,1368

The god of Slep wher that sche fond.

And that was in a strange lond,

P. ii. 102

Which marcheth upon Chymerie:

For ther, as seith the Poesie,

The god of Slep hath mad his hous,

Which of entaille is merveilous.2990

Under an hell ther is a Cave,

Which of the Sonne mai noght have,1369

So that noman mai knowe ariht

The point betwen the dai and nyht:1370

Ther is no fyr, ther is no sparke,

Ther is no dore, which mai charke,

Wherof an yhe scholde unschette,1371

So that inward ther is no lette.

And forto speke of that withoute,

Ther stant no gret Tree nyh aboute3000

Wher on ther myhte crowe or pie

Alihte, forto clepe or crie:

Ther is no cok to crowe day,

Ne beste non which noise may

The hell, bot al aboute round

Ther is growende upon the ground

Popi, which berth the sed of slep,

With othre herbes suche an hep.

A stille water for the nones

Rennende upon the smale stones,3010

Which hihte of Lethes the rivere,

Under that hell in such manere

Ther is, which yifth gret appetit

To slepe. And thus full of delit

Slep hath his hous; and of his couche

Withinne his chambre if I schal touche,

P. ii. 103

Of hebenus that slepi Tree

The bordes al aboute be,

And for he scholde slepe softe,

Upon a fethrebed alofte3020

He lith with many a pilwe of doun:

The chambre is strowed up and doun

With swevenes many thousendfold.1372

Thus cam Yris into this hold,

And to the bedd, which is al blak,

Sche goth, and ther with Slep sche spak,

And in the wise as sche was bede1373

The Message of Juno sche dede.

Fulofte hir wordes sche reherceth,

Er sche his slepi Eres perceth;3030

With mochel wo bot ate laste

His slombrende yhen he upcaste

And seide hir that it schal be do.1374

Wherof among a thousend tho,

Withinne his hous that slepi were,

In special he ches out there

Thre, whiche scholden do this dede:

The ferste of hem, so as I rede,

Was Morpheüs, the whos nature

Is forto take the figure3040

Of what persone that him liketh,

Wherof that he fulofte entriketh

The lif which slepe schal be nyhte;

And Ithecus that other hihte,

Which hath the vois of every soun,

The chiere and the condicioun

P. ii. 104

Of every lif, what so it is:

The thridde suiende after this

Is Panthasas, which may transforme

Of every thing the rihte forme,3050

And change it in an other kinde.

Upon hem thre, so as I finde,

Of swevenes stant al thapparence,

Which otherwhile is evidence

And otherwhile bot a jape.

Bot natheles it is so schape,1375

That Morpheüs be nyht al one

Appiereth until Alceone1376

In liknesse of hir housebonde

Al naked ded upon the stronde,3060

And hou he dreynte in special

These othre tuo it schewen al.

The tempeste of the blake cloude,

The wode See, the wyndes loude,

Al this sche mette, and sih him dyen;

Wherof that sche began to crien,

Slepende abedde ther sche lay,

And with that noise of hire affray

Hir wommen sterten up aboute,

Whiche of here ladi were in doute,3070

And axen hire hou that sche ferde;

And sche, riht as sche syh and herde,

Hir swevene hath told hem everydel.

And thei it halsen alle wel1377

And sein it is a tokne of goode;

Bot til sche wiste hou that it stode,

P. ii. 105

Sche hath no confort in hire herte,

Upon the morwe and up sche sterte,

And to the See, wher that sche mette1378

The bodi lay, withoute lette3080

Sche drowh, and whan that sche cam nyh,

Stark ded, hise armes sprad, sche syh1379

Hire lord flietende upon the wawe.

Wherof hire wittes ben withdrawe,

And sche, which tok of deth no kepe,

Anon forth lepte into the depe1380

And wolde have cawht him in hire arm.

This infortune of double harm

The goddes fro the hevene above

Behielde, and for the trowthe of love,3090

Which in this worthi ladi stod,

Thei have upon the salte flod

Hire dreinte lord and hire also

Fro deth to lyve torned so,

That thei ben schapen into briddes

Swimmende upon the wawe amiddes.

And whan sche sih hire lord livende

In liknesse of a bridd swimmende,

And sche was of the same sort,

So as sche mihte do desport,3100

Upon the joie which sche hadde

Hire wynges bothe abrod sche spradde,

And him, so as sche mai suffise,

Beclipte and keste in such a wise,

As sche was whilom wont to do:

Hire wynges for hire armes tuo

P. ii. 106

Sche tok, and for hire lippes softe

Hire harde bile, and so fulofte

Sche fondeth in hire briddes forme,

If that sche mihte hirself conforme3110

To do the plesance of a wif,

As sche dede in that other lif:

For thogh sche hadde hir pouer lore,

Hir will stod as it was tofore,

And serveth him so as sche mai.

Wherof into this ilke day

Togedre upon the See thei wone,

Wher many a dowhter and a Sone

Thei bringen forth of briddes kinde;

And for men scholden take in mynde3120

This Alceoun the trewe queene,

Hire briddes yit, as it is seene,

Of Alceoun the name bere.

Confessor.

Lo thus, mi Sone, it mai thee stere

Of swevenes forto take kepe,

For ofte time a man aslepe

Mai se what after schal betide.

Forthi it helpeth at som tyde

A man to slepe, as it belongeth,1381

Bot slowthe no lif underfongeth3130

Which is to love appourtenant.

Confessio Amantis.

Mi fader, upon covenant1382

I dar wel make this avou,

Of all mi lif that into nou,

Als fer as I can understonde,

Yit tok I nevere Slep on honde,

P. ii. 107

Whan it was time forto wake;

For thogh myn yhe it wolde take,1383

Min herte is evere therayein.

[Sleeping and Waking.]

Bot natheles to speke it plein,13843140

Al this that I have seid you hiere1385

Of my wakinge, as ye mai hiere,1386

It toucheth to mi lady swete;

For otherwise, I you behiete,

In strange place whanne I go,

Me list nothing to wake so.

For whan the wommen listen pleie,

And I hir se noght in the weie,

Of whom I scholde merthe take,

Me list noght longe forto wake,3150

Bot if it be for pure schame,

Of that I wolde eschuie a name,

That thei ne scholde have cause non1387

To seie, ‘Ha, lo, wher goth such on,1388

That hath forlore his contenaunce!’

And thus among I singe and daunce,

And feigne lust ther as non is.

For ofte sithe I fiele this;

Of thoght, which in mi herte falleth1389

Whanne it is nyht, myn hed appalleth,3160

And that is for I se hire noght,

Which is the wakere of mi thoght:

And thus as tymliche as I may,

Fulofte whanne it is brod day,

I take of all these othre leve1390

And go my weie, and thei beleve,

P. ii. 108

That sen per cas here loves there;

And I go forth as noght ne were

Unto mi bedd, so that al one

I mai ther ligge and sighe and grone3170

And wisshen al the longe nyht,

Til that I se the daies lyht.

I not if that be Sompnolence,

Bot upon youre conscience,

Min holi fader, demeth ye.

Confessor.

My Sone, I am wel paid with thee,

Of Slep that thou the Sluggardie

Be nyhte in loves compaignie

Eschuied hast, and do thi peine

So that thi love thar noght pleine:3180

For love upon his lust wakende

Is evere, and wolde that non ende

Were of the longe nyhtes set.

Wherof that thou be war the bet,

To telle a tale I am bethoght,

Hou love and Slep acorden noght.

[The Prayer of Cephalus.]For love who that list to wakeBe nyhte, he mai ensample takeOf Cephalus, whan that he layHic dicit quod vigilia in Amantibus et non Sompnolencia laudanda est. Et ponit exemplum de Cephalo filio Phebi, qui nocturno cilencio Auroram amicam suam diligencius amplectens, Solem et lunam interpellabat, videlicet quod Sol in circulo ab oriente distanciori currum cum luce sua1391retardaret, et quod luna spera sua longissima orbem circuiens noctem continuaret; ita vt1392ipsum Cephalum amplexibus Aurore volutum, priusquam dies illa1393illucesceret, suis deliciis adquiescere diucius permittere dignarentur.1394With Aurora that swete may13953190In armes all the longe nyht.Bot whanne it drogh toward the liht,That he withinne his herte sihThe dai which was amorwe nyh,Anon unto the Sonne he preideFor lust of love, and thus he seide:P. ii. 109‘O Phebus, which the daies lihtGovernest, til that it be nyht,And gladest every creatureAfter the lawe of thi nature,—3200Bot natheles ther is a thing,Which onli to the knoulechingBelongeth as in priveteTo love and to his duete,Which asketh noght to ben apert,Bot in cilence and in covert1396Desireth forto be beschaded:And thus whan that thi liht is fadedAnd Vesper scheweth him alofte,And that the nyht is long and softe,3210Under the cloudes derke and stilleThanne hath this thing most of his wille.Forthi unto thi myhtes hyhe,As thou which art the daies yhe,Of love and myht no conseil hyde,Upon this derke nyhtes tydeWith al myn herte I thee besecheThat I plesance myhte secheWith hire which lith in min armes.Withdrawgh the Banere of thin Armes,3220And let thi lyhtes ben unborn,1397And in the Signe of Capricorn,The hous appropred to Satorne,I preie that thou wolt sojorne,Wher ben the nihtes derke and longe:For I mi love have underfonge,P. ii. 110Which lith hier be mi syde naked,As sche which wolde ben awaked,And me lest nothing forto slepe.So were it good to take kepe3230Nou at this nede of mi preiere,And that the like forto stiereThi fyri Carte, and so ordeigne,1398That thou thi swifte hors restreigneLowe under Erthe in Occident,That thei towardes OrientBe Cercle go the longe weie.And ek to thee, Diane, I preie,Which cleped art of thi noblesseThe nyhtes Mone and the goddesse,3240That thou to me be gracious:And in Cancro thin oghne housAyein Phebus in oppositStond al this time, and of delit1399Behold Venus with a glad yhe.For thanne upon AstronomieOf due constellacionThou makst prolificacion,And dost that children ben begete:Which grace if that I mihte gete,14003250With al myn herte I wolde serveBe nyhte, and thi vigile observe.’1401Confessor.Lo, thus this lusti CephalusPreide unto Phebe and to PhebusThe nyht in lengthe forto drawe,1402So that he mihte do the laweP. ii. 111In thilke point of loves heste,Which cleped is the nyhtes feste,Withoute Slep of sluggardie;1403Which Venus out of compaignie3260Hath put awey, as thilke same,Which lustles ferr from alle gameIn chambre doth fulofte wo1404Abedde, whanne it falleth soThat love scholde ben awaited.But Slowthe, which is evele affaited,With Slep hath mad his retenue,That what thing is to love due,Of all his dette he paieth non:He wot noght how the nyht is gon3270Ne hou the day is come aboute,Bot onli forto slepe and routeTil hyh midday, that he arise.Bot Cephalus dede otherwise,As thou, my Sone, hast herd above.Amans.Mi fader, who that hath his loveAbedde naked be his syde,And wolde thanne hise yhen hydeWith Slep, I not what man is he:Bot certes as touchende of me,3280That fell me nevere yit er this.Bot otherwhile, whan so isThat I mai cacche Slep on hondeLiggende al one, thanne I fondeTo dreme a merie swevene er day;And if so falle that I mayP. ii. 112Mi thought with such a swevene plese,Me thenkth I am somdiel in ese,1405For I non other confort have.So nedeth noght that I schal crave3290The Sonnes Carte forto tarie,Ne yit the Mone, that sche carieHire cours along upon the hevene,For I am noght the more in eveneTowardes love in no degree:Bot in mi slep yit thanne I seSomwhat in swevene of that me liketh,Which afterward min herte entriketh,Whan that I finde it otherwise.So wot I noght of what servise3300That Slep to mannes ese doth.Confessor.Mi Sone, certes thou seist soth,Bot only that it helpeth kindeSomtyme, in Phisique as I finde,Whan it is take be mesure:Bot he which can no Slep mesureUpon the reule as it belongeth,Fulofte of sodein chance he fongeth1406Such infortune that him grieveth.Bot who these olde bokes lieveth,3310Of Sompnolence hou it is write,Ther may a man the sothe wite,If that he wolde ensample take,That otherwhile is good to wake:Wherof a tale in PoesieI thenke forto specefie.

[The Prayer of Cephalus.]

For love who that list to wake

Be nyhte, he mai ensample take

Of Cephalus, whan that he lay

Hic dicit quod vigilia in Amantibus et non Sompnolencia laudanda est. Et ponit exemplum de Cephalo filio Phebi, qui nocturno cilencio Auroram amicam suam diligencius amplectens, Solem et lunam interpellabat, videlicet quod Sol in circulo ab oriente distanciori currum cum luce sua1391retardaret, et quod luna spera sua longissima orbem circuiens noctem continuaret; ita vt1392ipsum Cephalum amplexibus Aurore volutum, priusquam dies illa1393illucesceret, suis deliciis adquiescere diucius permittere dignarentur.1394

With Aurora that swete may13953190

In armes all the longe nyht.

Bot whanne it drogh toward the liht,

That he withinne his herte sih

The dai which was amorwe nyh,

Anon unto the Sonne he preide

For lust of love, and thus he seide:

P. ii. 109

‘O Phebus, which the daies liht

Governest, til that it be nyht,

And gladest every creature

After the lawe of thi nature,—3200

Bot natheles ther is a thing,

Which onli to the knouleching

Belongeth as in privete

To love and to his duete,

Which asketh noght to ben apert,

Bot in cilence and in covert1396

Desireth forto be beschaded:

And thus whan that thi liht is faded

And Vesper scheweth him alofte,

And that the nyht is long and softe,3210

Under the cloudes derke and stille

Thanne hath this thing most of his wille.

Forthi unto thi myhtes hyhe,

As thou which art the daies yhe,

Of love and myht no conseil hyde,

Upon this derke nyhtes tyde

With al myn herte I thee beseche

That I plesance myhte seche

With hire which lith in min armes.

Withdrawgh the Banere of thin Armes,3220

And let thi lyhtes ben unborn,1397

And in the Signe of Capricorn,

The hous appropred to Satorne,

I preie that thou wolt sojorne,

Wher ben the nihtes derke and longe:

For I mi love have underfonge,

P. ii. 110

Which lith hier be mi syde naked,

As sche which wolde ben awaked,

And me lest nothing forto slepe.

So were it good to take kepe3230

Nou at this nede of mi preiere,

And that the like forto stiere

Thi fyri Carte, and so ordeigne,1398

That thou thi swifte hors restreigne

Lowe under Erthe in Occident,

That thei towardes Orient

Be Cercle go the longe weie.

And ek to thee, Diane, I preie,

Which cleped art of thi noblesse

The nyhtes Mone and the goddesse,3240

That thou to me be gracious:

And in Cancro thin oghne hous

Ayein Phebus in opposit

Stond al this time, and of delit1399

Behold Venus with a glad yhe.

For thanne upon Astronomie

Of due constellacion

Thou makst prolificacion,

And dost that children ben begete:

Which grace if that I mihte gete,14003250

With al myn herte I wolde serve

Be nyhte, and thi vigile observe.’1401

Confessor.

Lo, thus this lusti Cephalus

Preide unto Phebe and to Phebus

The nyht in lengthe forto drawe,1402

So that he mihte do the lawe

P. ii. 111

In thilke point of loves heste,

Which cleped is the nyhtes feste,

Withoute Slep of sluggardie;1403

Which Venus out of compaignie3260

Hath put awey, as thilke same,

Which lustles ferr from alle game

In chambre doth fulofte wo1404

Abedde, whanne it falleth so

That love scholde ben awaited.

But Slowthe, which is evele affaited,

With Slep hath mad his retenue,

That what thing is to love due,

Of all his dette he paieth non:

He wot noght how the nyht is gon3270

Ne hou the day is come aboute,

Bot onli forto slepe and route

Til hyh midday, that he arise.

Bot Cephalus dede otherwise,

As thou, my Sone, hast herd above.

Amans.

Mi fader, who that hath his love

Abedde naked be his syde,

And wolde thanne hise yhen hyde

With Slep, I not what man is he:

Bot certes as touchende of me,3280

That fell me nevere yit er this.

Bot otherwhile, whan so is

That I mai cacche Slep on honde

Liggende al one, thanne I fonde

To dreme a merie swevene er day;

And if so falle that I may

P. ii. 112

Mi thought with such a swevene plese,

Me thenkth I am somdiel in ese,1405

For I non other confort have.

So nedeth noght that I schal crave3290

The Sonnes Carte forto tarie,

Ne yit the Mone, that sche carie

Hire cours along upon the hevene,

For I am noght the more in evene

Towardes love in no degree:

Bot in mi slep yit thanne I se

Somwhat in swevene of that me liketh,

Which afterward min herte entriketh,

Whan that I finde it otherwise.

So wot I noght of what servise3300

That Slep to mannes ese doth.

Confessor.

Mi Sone, certes thou seist soth,

Bot only that it helpeth kinde

Somtyme, in Phisique as I finde,

Whan it is take be mesure:

Bot he which can no Slep mesure

Upon the reule as it belongeth,

Fulofte of sodein chance he fongeth1406

Such infortune that him grieveth.

Bot who these olde bokes lieveth,3310

Of Sompnolence hou it is write,

Ther may a man the sothe wite,

If that he wolde ensample take,

That otherwhile is good to wake:

Wherof a tale in Poesie

I thenke forto specefie.

[Argus and Mercury.]P. ii. 113Ovide telleth in his sawes,How Jupiter be olde dawesHic loquitur in amoris causa contra istos qui Sompnolencie dediti ea que seruare tenentur amittunt. Et narrat quod, cum Yo puella pulcherima a Iunone in vaccam transformata et in Argi custodiam sic deposita fuisset, superueniens Mercurius Argum dormientem occidit, et ipsam vaccam a pastura rapiens, quo voluit secum perduxit.Lay be a Mayde, which YoWas cleped, wherof that Juno3320His wif was wroth, and the goddesseOf Yo torneth the liknesse1407Into a cow, to gon therouteThe large fieldes al abouteAnd gete hire mete upon the griene.And therupon this hyhe queeneBetok hire Argus forto kepe,For he was selden wont to slepe,And yit he hadde an hundred yhen,And alle alyche wel thei syhen.3330Now herkne hou that he was beguiled.Mercurie, which was al affiledThis Cow to stele, he cam desguised,And hadde a Pipe wel devisedUpon the notes of Musiqe,Wherof he mihte hise Eres like.And over that he hadde affaited1408Hise lusti tales, and awaitedHis time; and thus into the fieldHe cam, where Argus he behield3340With Yo, which beside him wente.1409With that his Pype on honde he hente,And gan to pipe in his manereThing which was slepi forto hiere;And in his pipinge evere amongHe tolde him such a lusti song,P. ii. 114That he the fol hath broght aslepe.Ther was non yhe mihte kepeHis hed, the which Mercurie of smot,1410And forth withal anon fot hot3350He stal the Cow which Argus kepte,And al this fell for that he slepte.Ensample it was to manye mo,That mochel Slep doth ofte wo,Whan it is time forto wake:1411For if a man this vice take,In Sompnolence and him delite,Men scholde upon his Dore wryteHis epitaphe, as on his grave;For he to spille and noght to save3360Is schape, as thogh he were ded.1412Confessor.Forthi, mi Sone, hold up thin hed,And let no Slep thin yhe englue,Bot whanne it is to resoun due.Amans.Mi fader, as touchende of this,Riht so as I you tolde it is,1413That ofte abedde, whanne I scholde,I mai noght slepe, thogh I wolde;For love is evere faste byme,Which takth no hiede of due time.14143370For whanne I schal myn yhen close,Anon min herte he wole opposeAnd holde his Scole in such a wise,Til it be day that I arise,That selde it is whan that I slepe.And thus fro Sompnolence I kepeP. ii. 115Min yhe: and forthi if ther beOght elles more in this degre,Now axeth forth.Confessor.Mi Sone, yis:For Slowthe, which as Moder is3380The forthdrawere and the NorriceTo man of many a dredful vice,Hath yit an other laste of alle,Which many a man hath mad to falle,Wher that he mihte nevere arise;Wherof for thou thee schalt avise,Er thou so with thiself misfare,What vice it is I wol declare.

[Argus and Mercury.]

P. ii. 113

Ovide telleth in his sawes,

How Jupiter be olde dawes

Hic loquitur in amoris causa contra istos qui Sompnolencie dediti ea que seruare tenentur amittunt. Et narrat quod, cum Yo puella pulcherima a Iunone in vaccam transformata et in Argi custodiam sic deposita fuisset, superueniens Mercurius Argum dormientem occidit, et ipsam vaccam a pastura rapiens, quo voluit secum perduxit.

Lay be a Mayde, which Yo

Was cleped, wherof that Juno3320

His wif was wroth, and the goddesse

Of Yo torneth the liknesse1407

Into a cow, to gon theroute

The large fieldes al aboute

And gete hire mete upon the griene.

And therupon this hyhe queene

Betok hire Argus forto kepe,

For he was selden wont to slepe,

And yit he hadde an hundred yhen,

And alle alyche wel thei syhen.3330

Now herkne hou that he was beguiled.

Mercurie, which was al affiled

This Cow to stele, he cam desguised,

And hadde a Pipe wel devised

Upon the notes of Musiqe,

Wherof he mihte hise Eres like.

And over that he hadde affaited1408

Hise lusti tales, and awaited

His time; and thus into the field

He cam, where Argus he behield3340

With Yo, which beside him wente.1409

With that his Pype on honde he hente,

And gan to pipe in his manere

Thing which was slepi forto hiere;

And in his pipinge evere among

He tolde him such a lusti song,

P. ii. 114

That he the fol hath broght aslepe.

Ther was non yhe mihte kepe

His hed, the which Mercurie of smot,1410

And forth withal anon fot hot3350

He stal the Cow which Argus kepte,

And al this fell for that he slepte.

Ensample it was to manye mo,

That mochel Slep doth ofte wo,

Whan it is time forto wake:1411

For if a man this vice take,

In Sompnolence and him delite,

Men scholde upon his Dore wryte

His epitaphe, as on his grave;

For he to spille and noght to save3360

Is schape, as thogh he were ded.1412

Confessor.

Forthi, mi Sone, hold up thin hed,

And let no Slep thin yhe englue,

Bot whanne it is to resoun due.

Amans.

Mi fader, as touchende of this,

Riht so as I you tolde it is,1413

That ofte abedde, whanne I scholde,

I mai noght slepe, thogh I wolde;

For love is evere faste byme,

Which takth no hiede of due time.14143370

For whanne I schal myn yhen close,

Anon min herte he wole oppose

And holde his Scole in such a wise,

Til it be day that I arise,

That selde it is whan that I slepe.

And thus fro Sompnolence I kepe

P. ii. 115

Min yhe: and forthi if ther be

Oght elles more in this degre,

Now axeth forth.

Confessor.

Mi Sone, yis:

For Slowthe, which as Moder is3380

The forthdrawere and the Norrice

To man of many a dredful vice,

Hath yit an other laste of alle,

Which many a man hath mad to falle,

Wher that he mihte nevere arise;

Wherof for thou thee schalt avise,

Er thou so with thiself misfare,

What vice it is I wol declare.

[vii.Tristesse or Despondency.]ix.Nil fortuna iuuat, vbi desperacio ledit;1415Quo desiccat humor, non viridescit humus.Magnanimus set amor spem ponit et inde salutemConsequitur, quod ei prospera fata fauent.

[vii.Tristesse or Despondency.]

ix.Nil fortuna iuuat, vbi desperacio ledit;1415

Quo desiccat humor, non viridescit humus.

Magnanimus set amor spem ponit et inde salutem

Consequitur, quod ei prospera fata fauent.

Whan Slowthe hath don al that he mayHic loquitur super vltima specie Accidie, que Tristicia siue Desperacio dicitur, cuius obstinata condicio tocius consolacionis spem deponens, alicuius remedii, quo liberari poterit,1416fortunam sibi euenire impossibile credit.To dryve forth the longe day,3390Til it be come to the nede,Thanne ate laste upon the dedeHe loketh hou his time is lore,And is so wo begon therfore,That he withinne his thoght conceivethTristesce, and so himself deceiveth,That he wanhope bringeth inne,Wher is no confort to beginne,Bot every joie him is deslaied:So that withinne his herte affraied3400A thousend time with o breth1417Wepende he wissheth after deth,P. ii. 116Whan he fortune fint adverse.For thanne he wole his hap reherce,As thogh his world were al forlore,And seith, ‘Helas, that I was bore!Hou schal I live? hou schal I do?For nou fortune is thus mi fo,I wot wel god me wol noght helpe.What scholde I thanne of joies yelpe,3410Whan ther no bote is of mi care?So overcast is my welfare,That I am schapen al to strif.Helas, that I nere of this lif,Er I be fulliche overtake!’And thus he wol his sorwe make,As god him mihte noght availe:Bot yit ne wol he noght travaileTo helpe himself at such a nede,Bot slowtheth under such a drede,3420Which is affermed in his herte,Riht as he mihte noght asterteThe worldes wo which he is inne.Also whan he is falle in Sinne,Him thenkth he is so ferr coupable,That god wol noght be merciableSo gret a Sinne to foryive;1418And thus he leeveth to be schrive.And if a man in thilke throweWolde him consaile, he wol noght knowe3430The sothe, thogh a man it finde:For Tristesce is of such a kinde,P. ii. 117That forto meintiene his folie,Obstinacio est contradiccio veritatis agnite.He hath with him Obstinacie,Which is withinne of such a Slouthe,That he forsaketh alle trouthe,And wole unto no reson bowe;1419And yit ne can he noght avoweHis oghne skile bot of hed:Thus dwyneth he, til he be ded,3440In hindringe of his oghne astat.For where a man is obstinat,Wanhope folweth ate laste,1420Which mai noght after longe laste,Till Slouthe make of him an ende.Bot god wot whider he schal wende.Confessor.Mi Sone, and riht in such manereTher be lovers of hevy chiere,That sorwen mor than it is ned,1421Whan thei be taried of here sped3450And conne noght hemselven rede,Bot lesen hope forto spedeAnd stinten love to poursewe;And thus thei faden hyde and hewe,And lustles in here hertes waxe.Hierof it is that I wolde axe,If thou, mi Sone, art on of tho.Confessio Amantis.Ha, goode fader, it is so,Outake a point, I am beknowe;1422For elles I am overthrowe3460In al that evere ye have seid.Mi sorwe is everemore unteid,P. ii. 118And secheth overal my veines;Bot forto conseile of mi peines,I can no bote do therto;And thus withouten hope I go,So that mi wittes ben empeired,And I, as who seith, am despeiredTo winne love of thilke swete,Withoute whom, I you behiete,3470Min herte, that is so bestad,Riht inly nevere mai be glad.For be my trouthe I schal noght lie,Of pure sorwe, which I dryeFor that sche seith sche wol me noght,With drecchinge of myn oghne thoghtIn such a wanhope I am falle,That I ne can unethes calle,As forto speke of eny grace,1423Mi ladi merci to pourchace.3480Bot yit I seie noght for thisThat al in mi defalte it is;For I cam nevere yit in stede,Whan time was, that I my bede1424Ne seide, and as I dorste tolde:Bot nevere fond I that sche wolde,For oght sche knew of min entente,To speke a goodly word assente.And natheles this dar I seie,1425That if a sinful wolde preie3490To god of his foryivenesseWith half so gret a besinesseP. ii. 119As I have do to my ladi,In lacke of askinge of merciHe scholde nevere come in Helle.And thus I mai you sothli telle,Save only that I crie and bidde,I am in Tristesce al amiddeAnd fulfild of Desesperance:And therof yif me mi penance,3500Min holi fader, as you liketh.Confessor.Mi Sone, of that thin herte siketh1426With sorwe, miht thou noght amende,Til love his grace wol thee sende,For thou thin oghne cause empeirestWhat time as thou thiself despeirest.I not what otherthing availeth,Of hope whan the herte faileth,For such a Sor is incurable,And ek the goddes ben vengable:3510And that a man mai riht wel frede,These olde bokes who so rede,Of thing which hath befalle er this:Now hier of what ensample it is.

Whan Slowthe hath don al that he may

Hic loquitur super vltima specie Accidie, que Tristicia siue Desperacio dicitur, cuius obstinata condicio tocius consolacionis spem deponens, alicuius remedii, quo liberari poterit,1416fortunam sibi euenire impossibile credit.

To dryve forth the longe day,3390

Til it be come to the nede,

Thanne ate laste upon the dede

He loketh hou his time is lore,

And is so wo begon therfore,

That he withinne his thoght conceiveth

Tristesce, and so himself deceiveth,

That he wanhope bringeth inne,

Wher is no confort to beginne,

Bot every joie him is deslaied:

So that withinne his herte affraied3400

A thousend time with o breth1417

Wepende he wissheth after deth,

P. ii. 116

Whan he fortune fint adverse.

For thanne he wole his hap reherce,

As thogh his world were al forlore,

And seith, ‘Helas, that I was bore!

Hou schal I live? hou schal I do?

For nou fortune is thus mi fo,

I wot wel god me wol noght helpe.

What scholde I thanne of joies yelpe,3410

Whan ther no bote is of mi care?

So overcast is my welfare,

That I am schapen al to strif.

Helas, that I nere of this lif,

Er I be fulliche overtake!’

And thus he wol his sorwe make,

As god him mihte noght availe:

Bot yit ne wol he noght travaile

To helpe himself at such a nede,

Bot slowtheth under such a drede,3420

Which is affermed in his herte,

Riht as he mihte noght asterte

The worldes wo which he is inne.

Also whan he is falle in Sinne,

Him thenkth he is so ferr coupable,

That god wol noght be merciable

So gret a Sinne to foryive;1418

And thus he leeveth to be schrive.

And if a man in thilke throwe

Wolde him consaile, he wol noght knowe3430

The sothe, thogh a man it finde:

For Tristesce is of such a kinde,

P. ii. 117

That forto meintiene his folie,

Obstinacio est contradiccio veritatis agnite.

He hath with him Obstinacie,

Which is withinne of such a Slouthe,

That he forsaketh alle trouthe,

And wole unto no reson bowe;1419

And yit ne can he noght avowe

His oghne skile bot of hed:

Thus dwyneth he, til he be ded,3440

In hindringe of his oghne astat.

For where a man is obstinat,

Wanhope folweth ate laste,1420

Which mai noght after longe laste,

Till Slouthe make of him an ende.

Bot god wot whider he schal wende.

Confessor.

Mi Sone, and riht in such manere

Ther be lovers of hevy chiere,

That sorwen mor than it is ned,1421

Whan thei be taried of here sped3450

And conne noght hemselven rede,

Bot lesen hope forto spede

And stinten love to poursewe;

And thus thei faden hyde and hewe,

And lustles in here hertes waxe.

Hierof it is that I wolde axe,

If thou, mi Sone, art on of tho.

Confessio Amantis.

Ha, goode fader, it is so,

Outake a point, I am beknowe;1422

For elles I am overthrowe3460

In al that evere ye have seid.

Mi sorwe is everemore unteid,

P. ii. 118

And secheth overal my veines;

Bot forto conseile of mi peines,

I can no bote do therto;

And thus withouten hope I go,

So that mi wittes ben empeired,

And I, as who seith, am despeired

To winne love of thilke swete,

Withoute whom, I you behiete,3470

Min herte, that is so bestad,

Riht inly nevere mai be glad.

For be my trouthe I schal noght lie,

Of pure sorwe, which I drye

For that sche seith sche wol me noght,

With drecchinge of myn oghne thoght

In such a wanhope I am falle,

That I ne can unethes calle,

As forto speke of eny grace,1423

Mi ladi merci to pourchace.3480

Bot yit I seie noght for this

That al in mi defalte it is;

For I cam nevere yit in stede,

Whan time was, that I my bede1424

Ne seide, and as I dorste tolde:

Bot nevere fond I that sche wolde,

For oght sche knew of min entente,

To speke a goodly word assente.

And natheles this dar I seie,1425

That if a sinful wolde preie3490

To god of his foryivenesse

With half so gret a besinesse

P. ii. 119

As I have do to my ladi,

In lacke of askinge of merci

He scholde nevere come in Helle.

And thus I mai you sothli telle,

Save only that I crie and bidde,

I am in Tristesce al amidde

And fulfild of Desesperance:

And therof yif me mi penance,3500

Min holi fader, as you liketh.

Confessor.

Mi Sone, of that thin herte siketh1426

With sorwe, miht thou noght amende,

Til love his grace wol thee sende,

For thou thin oghne cause empeirest

What time as thou thiself despeirest.

I not what otherthing availeth,

Of hope whan the herte faileth,

For such a Sor is incurable,

And ek the goddes ben vengable:3510

And that a man mai riht wel frede,

These olde bokes who so rede,

Of thing which hath befalle er this:

Now hier of what ensample it is.

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