Chapter XXII: Part 22

Bot every time hath his certein, So moste it nedes thanne abide, Til afterward upon a tyde Tarquinus made unskilfully A werre, which was fasteby Ayein a toun with walles stronge Which Ardea was cleped longe, 4760 And caste a Siege theraboute, That ther mai noman passen oute. So it befell upon a nyht, Arrons, which hadde his souper diht, A part of the chivalerie With him to soupe in compaignie Hath bede: and whan thei comen were And seten at the souper there, Among here othre wordes glade Arrons a gret spekinge made, 4770 Who hadde tho the beste wif Of Rome: and ther began a strif, For Arrons seith he hath the beste. So jangle thei withoute reste, Til ate laste on Collatin, A worthi knyht, and was cousin To Arrons, seide him in this wise: “It is,” quod he, “of non emprise To speke a word, bot of the dede, Therof it is to taken hiede. 4780 Anon forthi this same tyde Lep on thin hors and let ous ryde: So mai we knowe bothe tuo Unwarli what oure wyves do, And that schal be a trewe assay.” This Arrons seith noght ones nay: On horse bak anon thei lepte In such manere, and nothing slepte, Ridende forth til that thei come Al prively withinne Rome; 4790 In strange place and doun thei lihte, And take a chambre, and out of sihte Thei be desguised for a throwe, So that no lif hem scholde knowe. And to the paleis ferst thei soghte, To se what thing this ladi wroghte Of which Arrons made his avant: And thei hire sihe of glad semblant, Al full of merthes and of bordes; Bot among alle hire othre wordes 4800 Sche spak noght of hire housebonde. And whan thei hadde al understonde Of thilke place what hem liste, Thei gon hem forth, that non it wiste, Beside thilke gate of bras, Collacea which cleped was, Wher Collatin hath his duellinge. Ther founden thei at hom sittinge Lucrece his wif, al environed With wommen, whiche are abandoned 4810 To werche, and sche wroghte ek withal, And bad hem haste, and seith, “It schal Be for mi housebondes were, Which with his swerd and with his spere Lith at the Siege in gret desese. And if it scholde him noght displese, Nou wolde god I hadde him hiere; For certes til that I mai hiere Som good tidinge of his astat, Min herte is evere upon debat. 4820 For so as alle men witnesse, He is of such an hardiesse, That he can noght himselve spare, And that is al my moste care, Whan thei the walles schulle assaile. Bot if mi wisshes myhte availe, I wolde it were a groundles pet, Be so the Siege were unknet, And I myn housebonde sihe.” With that the water in hire yhe 4830 Aros, that sche ne myhte it stoppe, And as men sen the dew bedroppe The leves and the floures eke, Riht so upon hire whyte cheke The wofull salte teres felle. Whan Collatin hath herd hire telle The menynge of hire trewe herte, Anon with that to hire he sterte, And seide, “Lo, mi goode diere, Nou is he come to you hiere, 4840 That ye most loven, as ye sein.” And sche with goodly chiere ayein Beclipte him in hire armes smale, And the colour, which erst was pale, To Beaute thanne was restored, So that it myhte noght be mored.

The kinges Sone, which was nyh, And of this lady herde and syh The thinges as thei ben befalle, The resoun of hise wittes alle 4850 Hath lost; for love upon his part Cam thanne, and of his fyri dart With such a wounde him hath thurghsmite, That he mot nedes fiele and wite Of thilke blinde maladie, To which no cure of Surgerie Can helpe. Bot yit natheles At thilke time he hield his pes, That he no contienance made, Bot openly with wordes glade, 4860 So as he couthe in his manere, He spak and made frendly chiere, Til it was time forto go. And Collatin with him also His leve tok, so that be nyhte With al the haste that thei myhte Thei riden to the Siege ayein. Bot Arrons was so wo besein With thoghtes whiche upon him runne, That he al be the brode Sunne 4870 To bedde goth, noght forto reste, Bot forto thenke upon the beste And the faireste forth withal, That evere he syh or evere schal, So as him thoghte in his corage, Where he pourtreieth hire ymage: Ferst the fetures of hir face, In which nature hadde alle grace Of wommanly beaute beset, So that it myhte noght be bet; 4880 And hou hir yelwe her was tresced And hire atir so wel adresced, And hou sche spak, and hou sche wroghte, And hou sche wepte, al this he thoghte, That he foryeten hath no del, Bot al it liketh him so wel, That in the word nor in the dede Hire lacketh noght of wommanhiede. And thus this tirannysshe knyht Was soupled, bot noght half ariht, 4890 For he non other hiede tok, Bot that he myhte be som crok, Althogh it were ayein hire wille, The lustes of his fleissh fulfille; Which love was noght resonable, For where honour is remuable, It oghte wel to ben avised. Bot he, which hath his lust assised With melled love and tirannie, Hath founde upon his tricherie 4900 A weie which he thenkth to holde, And seith, “Fortune unto the bolde Is favorable forto helpe.” And thus withinne himself to yelpe, As he which was a wylde man, Upon his treson he began: And up he sterte, and forth he wente On horsebak, bot his entente Ther knew no wiht, and thus he nam The nexte weie, til he cam 4910 Unto Collacea the gate Of Rome, and it was somdiel late, Riht evene upon the Sonne set, As he which hadde schape his net Hire innocence to betrappe. And as it scholde tho mishappe, Als priveliche as evere he myhte He rod, and of his hors alyhte Tofore Collatines In, And al frendliche he goth him in, 4920 As he that was cousin of house. And sche, which is the goode spouse, Lucrece, whan that sche him sih, With goodli chiere drowh him nyh, As sche which al honour supposeth, And him, so as sche dar, opposeth Hou it stod of hire housebonde. And he tho dede hire understonde With tales feigned in his wise, Riht as he wolde himself devise, 4930 Wherof he myhte hire herte glade, That sche the betre chiere made, Whan sche the glade wordes herde, Hou that hire housebonde ferde. And thus the trouthe was deceived With slih tresoun, which was received To hire which mente alle goode; For as the festes thanne stode, His Souper was ryht wel arraied. Bot yit he hath no word assaied 4940 To speke of love in no degre; Bot with covert subtilite His frendly speches he affaiteth, And as the Tigre his time awaiteth In hope forto cacche his preie. Whan that the bordes were aweie And thei have souped in the halle, He seith that slep is on him falle, And preith he moste go to bedde; And sche with alle haste spedde, 4950 So as hire thoghte it was to done, That every thing was redi sone. Sche broghte him to his chambre tho And tok hire leve, and forth is go Into hire oghne chambre by, As sche that wende certeinly Have had a frend, and hadde a fo, Wherof fell after mochel wo.

This tirant, thogh he lyhe softe, Out of his bed aros fulofte, 4960 And goth aboute, and leide his Ere To herkne, til that alle were To bedde gon and slepten faste. And thanne upon himself he caste A mantell, and his swerd al naked He tok in honde; and sche unwaked Abedde lay, but what sche mette, God wot; for he the Dore unschette So prively that non it herde, The softe pas and forth he ferde 4970 Unto the bed wher that sche slepte, Al sodeinliche and in he crepte, And hire in bothe his Armes tok. With that this worthi wif awok, Which thurgh tendresce of wommanhiede Hire vois hath lost for pure drede, That o word speke sche ne dar: And ek he bad hir to be war, For if sche made noise or cry, He seide, his swerd lay faste by 4980 To slen hire and hire folk aboute. And thus he broghte hire herte in doute, That lich a Lomb whanne it is sesed In wolves mouth, so was desesed Lucrece, which he naked fond: Wherof sche swounede in his hond, And, as who seith, lay ded oppressed. And he, which al him hadde adresced To lust, tok thanne what him liste, And goth his wey, that non it wiste, 4990 Into his oghne chambre ayein, And clepede up his chamberlein, And made him redi forto ryde. And thus this lecherouse pride To horse lepte and forth he rod; And sche, which in hire bed abod, Whan that sche wiste he was agon, Sche clepede after liht anon And up aros long er the day, And caste awey hire freissh aray, 5000 As sche which hath the world forsake, And tok upon the clothes blake: And evere upon continuinge, Riht as men sen a welle springe, With yhen fulle of wofull teres, Hire her hangende aboute hire Eres, Sche wepte, and noman wiste why. Bot yit among full pitously Sche preide that thei nolden drecche Hire housebonde forto fecche 5010 Forth with hire fader ek also.

Thus be thei comen bothe tuo, And Brutus cam with Collatin, Which to Lucrece was cousin, And in thei wenten alle thre To chambre, wher thei myhten se The wofulleste upon this Molde, Which wepte as sche to water scholde. The chambre Dore anon was stoke, Er thei have oght unto hire spoke; 5020 Thei sihe hire clothes al desguised, And hou sche hath hirself despised, Hire her hangende unkemd aboute, Bot natheles sche gan to loute And knele unto hire housebonde; And he, which fain wolde understonde The cause why sche ferde so, With softe wordes axeth tho, “What mai you be, mi goode swete?” And sche, which thoghte hirself unmete 5030 And the lest worth of wommen alle, Hire wofull chiere let doun falle For schame and couthe unnethes loke. And thei therof good hiede toke, And preiden hire in alle weie That sche ne spare forto seie Unto hir frendes what hire eileth, Why sche so sore hirself beweileth, And what the sothe wolde mene. And sche, which hath hire sorwes grene, 5040 Hire wo to telle thanne assaieth, Bot tendre schame hire word delaieth, That sondri times as sche minte To speke, upon the point sche stinte. And thei hire bidden evere in on To telle forth, and therupon, Whan that sche sih sche moste nede, Hire tale betwen schame and drede Sche tolde, noght withoute peine. And he, which wolde hire wo restreigne, 5050 Hire housebonde, a sory man, Conforteth hire al that he can, And swor, and ek hire fader bothe, That thei with hire be noght wrothe Of that is don ayein hire wille; And preiden hire to be stille, For thei to hire have al foryive. Bot sche, which thoghte noght to live, Of hem wol no foryivenesse, And seide, of thilke wickednesse 5060 Which was unto hire bodi wroght, Al were it so sche myhte it noght, Nevere afterward the world ne schal Reproeven hire; and forth withal, Er eny man therof be war, A naked swerd, the which sche bar Withinne hire Mantel priveli, Betwen hire hondes sodeinly Sche tok, and thurgh hire herte it throng, And fell to grounde, and evere among, 5070 Whan that sche fell, so as sche myhte, Hire clothes with hire hand sche rihte, That noman dounward fro the kne Scholde eny thing of hire se: Thus lay this wif honestely, Althogh sche deide wofully.

Tho was no sorwe forto seke: Hire housebonde, hire fader eke Aswoune upon the bodi felle; Ther mai no mannes tunge telle 5080 In which anguisshe that thei were. Bot Brutus, which was with hem there, Toward himself his herte kepte, And to Lucrece anon he lepte, The blodi swerd and pulleth oute, And swor the goddes al aboute That he therof schal do vengance. And sche tho made a contienance, Hire dedlich yhe and ate laste In thonkinge as it were up caste, 5090 And so behield him in the wise, Whil sche to loke mai suffise. And Brutus with a manlich herte Hire housebonde hath mad up sterte Forth with hire fader ek also In alle haste, and seide hem tho That thei anon withoute lette A Beere for the body fette; Lucrece and therupon bledende He leide, and so forth out criende 5100 He goth into the Market place Of Rome: and in a litel space Thurgh cry the cite was assembled, And every mannes herte is trembled, Whan thei the sothe herde of the cas. And therupon the conseil was Take of the grete and of the smale, And Brutus tolde hem al the tale; And thus cam into remembrance Of Senne the continuance, 5110 Which Arrons hadde do tofore, And ek, long time er he was bore, Of that his fadre hadde do The wrong cam into place tho; So that the comun clamour tolde The newe schame of Sennes olde. And al the toun began to crie, “Awey, awey the tirannie Of lecherie and covoitise!” And ate laste in such a wise 5120 The fader in the same while Forth with his Sone thei exile, And taken betre governance. Bot yit an other remembrance That rihtwisnesse and lecherie Acorden noght in compaignie With him that hath the lawe on honde, That mai a man wel understonde, As be a tale thou shalt wite, Of olde ensample as it is write. 5130

At Rome whan that Apius, Whos other name is Claudius, Was governour of the cite, Ther fell a wonder thing to se Touchende a gentil Maide, as thus, Whom Livius Virginius Begeten hadde upon his wif: Men seiden that so fair a lif As sche was noght in al the toun. This fame, which goth up and doun, 5140 To Claudius cam in his Ere, Wherof his thoght anon was there, Which al his herte hath set afyre, That he began the flour desire Which longeth unto maydenhede, And sende, if that he myhte spede The blinde lustes of his wille. Bot that thing mai he noght fulfille, For sche stod upon Mariage; A worthi kniht of gret lignage, 5150 Ilicius which thanne hihte, Acorded in hire fader sihte Was, that he scholde his douhter wedde. Bot er the cause fully spedde, Hire fader, which in Romanie The ledinge of chivalerie In governance hath undertake, Upon a werre which was take Goth out with al the strengthe he hadde Of men of Armes whiche he ladde: 5160 So was the mariage left, And stod upon acord til eft.

The king, which herde telle of this, Hou that this Maide ordeigned is To Mariage, thoghte an other. And hadde thilke time a brother, Which Marchus Claudius was hote, And was a man of such riote Riht as the king himselve was: Thei tuo togedre upon this cas 5170 In conseil founden out this weie, That Marchus Claudius schal seie Hou sche be weie of covenant To his service appourtenant Was hol, and to non other man; And therupon he seith he can In every point witnesse take, So that sche schal it noght forsake. Whan that thei hadden schape so, After the lawe which was tho, 5180 Whil that hir fader was absent, Sche was somouned and assent To come in presence of the king And stonde in ansuere of this thing. Hire frendes wisten alle wel That it was falshed everydel, And comen to the king and seiden, Upon the comun lawe and preiden, So as this noble worthi knyht Hir fader for the comun riht 5190 In thilke time, as was befalle, Lai for the profit of hem alle Upon the wylde feldes armed, That he ne scholde noght ben harmed Ne schamed, whil that he were oute; And thus thei preiden al aboute.

For al the clamour that he herde, The king upon his lust ansuerde, And yaf hem only daies tuo Of respit; for he wende tho, 5200 That in so schorte a time appiere Hire fader mihte in no manere. Bot as therof he was deceived; For Livius hadde al conceived The pourpos of the king tofore, So that to Rome ayein therfore In alle haste he cam ridende, And lefte upon the field liggende His host, til that he come ayein. And thus this worthi capitein 5210 Appiereth redi at his day, Wher al that evere reson may Be lawe in audience he doth, So that his dowhter upon soth Of that Marchus hire hadde accused He hath tofore the court excused.

The king, which sih his pourpos faile, And that no sleihte mihte availe, Encombred of his lustes blinde The lawe torneth out of kinde, 5220 And half in wraththe as thogh it were, In presence of hem alle there Deceived of concupiscence Yaf for his brother the sentence, And bad him that he scholde sese This Maide and make him wel at ese; Bot al withinne his oghne entente He wiste hou that the cause wente, Of that his brother hath the wyte He was himselven forto wyte. 5230 Bot thus this maiden hadde wrong, Which was upon the king along, Bot ayein him was non Appel, And that the fader wiste wel: Wherof upon the tirannie, That for the lust of Lecherie His douhter scholde be deceived, And that Ilicius was weyved Untrewly fro the Mariage, Riht as a Leon in his rage, 5240 Which of no drede set acompte And not what pite scholde amounte, A naked swerd he pulleth oute, The which amonges al the route He threste thurgh his dowhter side, And al alowd this word he cride: “Lo, take hire ther, thou wrongfull king, For me is levere upon this thing To be the fader of a Maide, Thogh sche be ded, that if men saide 5250 That in hir lif sche were schamed And I therof were evele named.”

Tho bad the king men scholde areste His bodi, bot of thilke heste, Lich to the chaced wylde bor, The houndes whan he fieleth sor, Tothroweth and goth forth his weie, In such a wise forto seie This worthi kniht with swerd on honde His weie made, and thei him wonde, 5260 That non of hem his strokes kepte; And thus upon his hors he lepte, And with his swerd droppende of blod, The which withinne his douhter stod, He cam ther as the pouer was Of Rome, and tolde hem al the cas, And seide hem that thei myhten liere Upon the wrong of his matiere, That betre it were to redresce At hom the grete unrihtwisnesse, 5270 Than forto werre in strange place And lese at hom here oghne grace. For thus stant every mannes lif In jeupartie for his wif Or for his dowhter, if thei be Passende an other of beaute.

Of this merveile which thei sihe So apparant tofore here yhe, Of that the king him hath misbore, Here othes thei have alle swore 5280 That thei wol stonde be the riht. And thus of on acord upriht To Rome at ones hom ayein Thei torne, and schortly forto sein, This tirannye cam to mouthe, And every man seith what he couthe, So that the prive tricherie, Which set was upon lecherie, Cam openly to mannes Ere; And that broghte in the comun feere, 5290 That every man the peril dradde Of him that so hem overladde. Forthi, er that it worse falle, Thurgh comun conseil of hem alle Thei have here wrongfull king deposed, And hem in whom it was supposed The conseil stod of his ledinge Be lawe unto the dom thei bringe, Wher thei receiven the penance That longeth to such governance. 5300 And thus thunchaste was chastised, Wherof thei myhte ben avised That scholden afterward governe, And be this evidence lerne, Hou it is good a king eschuie The lust of vice and vertu suie.

To make an ende in this partie, Which toucheth to the Policie Of Chastite in special, As for conclusion final 5310 That every lust is to eschue Be gret ensample I mai argue: Hou in Rages a toun of Mede Ther was a Mayde, and as I rede, Sarra sche hihte, and Raguel Hir fader was; and so befell, Of bodi bothe and of visage Was non so fair of the lignage, To seche among hem alle, as sche; Wherof the riche of the cite, 5320 Of lusti folk that couden love, Assoted were upon hire love, And asken hire forto wedde. On was which ate laste spedde, Bot that was more for likinge, To have his lust, than for weddinge, As he withinne his herte caste, Which him repenteth ate laste. For so it fell the ferste nyht, That whanne he was to bedde dyht, 5330 As he which nothing god besecheth Bot al only hise lustes secheth, Abedde er he was fully warm And wolde have take hire in his Arm, Asmod, which was a fend of helle, And serveth, as the bokes telle, To tempte a man of such a wise, Was redy there, and thilke emprise, Which he hath set upon delit, He vengeth thanne in such a plit, 5340 That he his necke hathe writhe atuo. This yonge wif was sory tho, Which wiste nothing what it mente; And natheles yit thus it wente Noght only of this ferste man, Bot after, riht as he began, Sexe othre of hire housebondes Asmod hath take into hise bondes, So that thei alle abedde deiden, Whan thei her hand toward hir leiden, 5350 Noght for the lawe of Mariage, Bot for that ilke fyri rage In which that thei the lawe excede: For who that wolde taken hiede What after fell in this matiere, Ther mihte he wel the sothe hiere. Whan sche was wedded to Thobie, And Raphael in compainie Hath tawht him hou to ben honeste, Asmod wan noght at thilke feste, 5360 And yit Thobie his wille hadde; For he his lust so goodly ladde, That bothe lawe and kinde is served, Wherof he hath himself preserved, That he fell noght in the sentence. O which an open evidence Of this ensample a man mai se, That whan likinge in the degre Of Mariage mai forsueie, Wel oghte him thanne in other weie 5370 Of lust to be the betre avised. For god the lawes hath assissed Als wel to reson as to kinde, Bot he the bestes wolde binde Only to lawes of nature, Bot to the mannes creature God yaf him reson forth withal, Wherof that he nature schal Upon the causes modefie, That he schal do no lecherie, 5380 And yit he schal hise lustes have. So ben the lawes bothe save And every thing put out of sclandre; As whilom to king Alisandre The wise Philosophre tawhte, Whan he his ferste lore cawhte, Noght only upon chastete, Bot upon alle honestete; Wherof a king himself mai taste, Hou trewe, hou large, hou joust, hou chaste 5390 Him oghte of reson forto be, Forth with the vertu of Pite, Thurgh which he mai gret thonk deserve Toward his godd, that he preserve Him and his poeple in alle welthe Of pes, richesse, honour and helthe Hier in this world and elles eke.

Mi Sone, as we tofore spieke In schrifte, so as thou me seidest, And for thin ese, as thou me preidest, 5400 Thi love throghes forto lisse, That I thee wolde telle and wisse The forme of Aristotles lore, I have it seid, and somdiel more Of othre ensamples, to assaie If I thi peines myhte allaie Thurgh eny thing that I can seie.

Do wey, mi fader, I you preie: Of that ye have unto me told I thonke you a thousendfold. 5410 The tales sounen in myn Ere, Bot yit min herte is elleswhere, I mai miselve noght restreigne, That I nam evere in loves peine: Such lore couthe I nevere gete, Which myhte make me foryete O point, bot if so were I slepte, That I my tydes ay ne kepte To thenke of love and of his lawe; That herte can I noght withdrawe. 5420 Forthi, my goode fader diere, Lef al and speke of my matiere Touchende of love, as we begonne: If that ther be oght overronne Or oght foryete or left behinde Which falleth unto loves kinde, Wherof it nedeth to be schrive, Nou axeth, so that whil I live I myhte amende that is mys.

Mi goode diere Sone, yis. 5430 Thi schrifte forto make plein, Ther is yit more forto sein Of love which is unavised. Bot for thou schalt be wel avised Unto thi schrifte as it belongeth, A point which upon love hongeth And is the laste of alle tho, I wol thee telle, and thanne ho.

Explicit Liber Septimus.

Incipit Liber Octavus

_Que favet ad vicium vetus hec modo regula confert,
Nec novus e contra qui docet ordo placet.
Cecus amor dudum nondum sua lumina cepit,
Quo Venus impositum devia fallit iter._

The myhti god, which unbegunne Stant of himself and hath begunne Alle othre thinges at his wille, The hevene him liste to fulfille Of alle joie, where as he Sit inthronized in his See, And hath hise Angles him to serve, Suche as him liketh to preserve, So that thei mowe noght forsueie: Bot Lucifer he putte aweie, 10 With al the route apostazied Of hem that ben to him allied, Whiche out of hevene into the helle From Angles into fendes felle; Wher that ther is no joie of lyht, Bot more derk than eny nyht The peine schal ben endeles; And yit of fyres natheles Ther is plente, bot thei ben blake, Wherof no syhte mai be take. 20

Thus whan the thinges ben befalle, That Luciferes court was falle Wher dedly Pride hem hath conveied, Anon forthwith it was pourveied Thurgh him which alle thinges may; He made Adam the sexte day In Paradis, and to his make Him liketh Eve also to make, And bad hem cresce and multiplie. For of the mannes Progenie, 30 Which of the womman schal be bore, The nombre of Angles which was lore, Whan thei out fro the blisse felle, He thoghte to restore, and felle In hevene thilke holy place Which stod tho voide upon his grace. Bot as it is wel wiste and knowe, Adam and Eve bot a throwe, So as it scholde of hem betyde, In Paradis at thilke tyde 40 Ne duelten, and the cause why, Write in the bok of Genesi, As who seith, alle men have herd, Hou Raphael the fyri swerd In honde tok and drof hem oute, To gete here lyves fode aboute Upon this wofull Erthe hiere. Metodre seith to this matiere, As he be revelacion It hadde upon avision, 50 Hou that Adam and Eve also Virgines comen bothe tuo Into the world and were aschamed, Til that nature hem hath reclamed To love, and tauht hem thilke lore, That ferst thei keste, and overmore Thei don that is to kinde due, Wherof thei hadden fair issue. A Sone was the ferste of alle, And Chain be name thei him calle; 60 Abel was after the secounde, And in the geste as it is founde, Nature so the cause ladde, Tuo douhtres ek Dame Eve hadde, The ferste cleped Calmana Was, and that other Delbora. Thus was mankinde to beginne; Forthi that time it was no Sinne The Soster forto take hire brother, Whan that ther was of chois non other: 70 To Chain was Calmana betake, And Delboram hath Abel take, In whom was gete natheles Of worldes folk the ferste encres. Men sein that nede hath no lawe, And so it was be thilke dawe And laste into the Secounde Age, Til that the grete water rage, Of Noeh which was seid the flod, The world, which thanne in Senne stod, 80 Hath dreint, outake lyves Eyhte. Tho was mankinde of litel weyhte; Sem, Cham, Japhet, of these thre, That ben the Sones of Noë, The world of mannes nacion Into multiplicacion Was tho restored newe ayein So ferforth, as the bokes sein, That of hem thre and here issue Ther was so large a retenue, 90 Of naciouns seventy and tuo; In sondri place ech on of tho The wyde world have enhabited. Bot as nature hem hath excited, Thei token thanne litel hiede, The brother of the Sosterhiede To wedde wyves, til it cam Into the time of Habraham. Whan the thridde Age was begunne, The nede tho was overrunne, 100 For ther was poeple ynouh in londe: Thanne ate ferste it cam to honde, That Sosterhode of mariage Was torned into cousinage, So that after the rihte lyne The Cousin weddeth the cousine. For Habraham, er that he deide, This charge upon his servant leide, To him and in this wise spak, That he his Sone Isaäc 110 Do wedde for no worldes good, Bot only to his oghne blod: Wherof this Servant, as he bad, Whan he was ded, his Sone hath lad To Bathuel, wher he Rebecke Hath wedded with the whyte necke; For sche, he wiste wel and syh, Was to the child cousine nyh.

And thus as Habraham hath tawht, Whan Isaäc was god betawht, 120 His Sone Jacob dede also, And of Laban the dowhtres tuo, Which was his Em, he tok to wyve, And gat upon hem in his lyve, Of hire ferst which hihte Lie, Sex Sones of his Progenie, And of Rachel tuo Sones eke: The remenant was forto seke, That is to sein of foure mo, Wherof he gat on Bala tuo, 130 And of Zelpha he hadde ek tweie. And these tuelve, as I thee seie, Thurgh providence of god himselve Ben seid the Patriarkes tuelve; Of whom, as afterward befell, The tribes tuelve of Irahel Engendred were, and ben the same That of Hebreus tho hadden name, Which of Sibrede in alliance For evere kepten thilke usance 140 Most comunly, til Crist was bore. Bot afterward it was forbore Amonges ous that ben baptized; For of the lawe canonized The Pope hath bede to the men, That non schal wedden of his ken Ne the seconde ne the thridde. Bot thogh that holy cherche it bidde, So to restreigne Mariage, Ther ben yit upon loves Rage 150 Full manye of suche nou aday That taken wher thei take may. For love, which is unbesein Of alle reson, as men sein, Thurgh sotie and thurgh nycete, Of his voluptuosite He spareth no condicion Of ken ne yit religion, Bot as a cock among the Hennes, Or as a Stalon in the Fennes, 160 Which goth amonges al the Stod, Riht so can he nomore good, Bot takth what thing comth next to honde.

Mi Sone, thou schalt understonde, That such delit is forto blame. Forthi if thou hast be the same To love in eny such manere, Tell forth therof and schrif thee hiere.

Mi fader, nay, god wot the sothe, Mi feire is noght of such a bothe, 170 So wylde a man yit was I nevere, That of mi ken or lief or levere Me liste love in such a wise: And ek I not for what emprise I scholde assote upon a Nonne, For thogh I hadde hir love wonne, It myhte into no pris amonte, So therof sette I non acompte. Ye mai wel axe of this and that, Bot sothli forto telle plat, 180 In al this world ther is bot on The which myn herte hath overgon; I am toward alle othre fre.

Full wel, mi Sone, nou I see Thi word stant evere upon o place, Bot yit therof thou hast a grace, That thou thee myht so wel excuse Of love such as som men use, So as I spak of now tofore. For al such time of love is lore, 190 And lich unto the bitterswete; For thogh it thenke a man ferst swete, He schal wel fielen ate laste That it is sour and may noght laste. For as a morsell envenimed, So hath such love his lust mistimed, And grete ensamples manyon A man mai finde therupon.

At Rome ferst if we beginne, Ther schal I finde hou of this sinne 200 An Emperour was forto blame, Gayus Caligula be name, Which of his oghne Sostres thre Berefte the virginite: And whanne he hadde hem so forlein, As he the which was al vilein, He dede hem out of londe exile. Bot afterward withinne a while God hath beraft him in his ire His lif and ek his large empire: 210 And thus for likinge of a throwe For evere his lust was overthrowe.

Of this sotie also I finde, Amon his Soster ayein kinde, Which hihte Thamar, he forlay; Bot he that lust an other day Aboghte, whan that Absolon His oghne brother therupon, Of that he hadde his Soster schent, Tok of that Senne vengement 220 And slowh him with his oghne hond: And thus thunkinde unkinde fond.

And forto se more of this thing, The bible makth a knowleching, Wherof thou miht take evidence Upon the sothe experience. Whan Lothes wif was overgon And schape into the salte Ston, As it is spoke into this day, Be bothe hise dowhtres thanne he lay, 230 With childe and made hem bothe grete, Til that nature hem wolde lete, And so the cause aboute ladde That ech of hem a Sone hadde, Moab the ferste, and the seconde Amon, of whiche, as it is founde, Cam afterward to gret encres Tuo nacions: and natheles, For that the stockes were ungoode, The branches mihten noght be goode; 240 For of the false Moabites Forth with the strengthe of Amonites, Of that thei weren ferst misgete, The poeple of god was ofte upsete In Irahel and in Judee, As in the bible a man mai se.

Lo thus, my Sone, as I thee seie, Thou miht thiselve be beseie Of that thou hast of othre herd: For evere yit it hath so ferd, 250 Of loves lust if so befalle That it in other place falle Than it is of the lawe set, He which his love hath so beset Mote afterward repente him sore. And every man is othres lore; Of that befell in time er this The present time which now is May ben enformed hou it stod, And take that him thenketh good, 260 And leve that which is noght so. Bot forto loke of time go, Hou lust of love excedeth lawe, It oghte forto be withdrawe; For every man it scholde drede, And nameliche in his Sibrede, Which torneth ofte to vengance: Wherof a tale in remembrance, Which is a long process to hiere, I thenke forto tellen hiere. 270

Of a Cronique in daies gon, The which is cleped Pantheon, In loves cause I rede thus, Hou that the grete Antiochus, Of whom that Antioche tok His ferste name, as seith the bok, Was coupled to a noble queene, And hadde a dowhter hem betwene: Bot such fortune cam to honde, That deth, which no king mai withstonde, 280 Bot every lif it mote obeie, This worthi queene tok aweie. The king, which made mochel mone, Tho stod, as who seith, al him one Withoute wif, bot natheles His doghter, which was piereles Of beaute, duelte aboute him stille. Bot whanne a man hath welthe at wille, The fleissh is frele and falleth ofte, And that this maide tendre and softe, 290 Which in hire fadres chambres duelte, Withinne a time wiste and felte: For likinge and concupiscence Withoute insihte of conscience The fader so with lustes blente, That he caste al his hole entente His oghne doghter forto spille. This king hath leisir at his wille With strengthe, and whanne he time sih, This yonge maiden he forlih: 300 And sche was tendre and full of drede, Sche couthe noght hir Maidenhede Defende, and thus sche hath forlore The flour which she hath longe bore. It helpeth noght althogh sche wepe, For thei that scholde hir bodi kepe Of wommen were absent as thanne; And thus this maiden goth to manne, The wylde fader thus devoureth His oghne fleissh, which non socoureth, 310 And that was cause of mochel care. Bot after this unkinde fare Out of the chambre goth the king, And sche lay stille, and of this thing, Withinne hirself such sorghe made, Ther was no wiht that mihte hir glade, For feere of thilke horrible vice. With that cam inne the Norrice Which fro childhode hire hadde kept, And axeth if sche hadde slept, 320 And why hire chiere was unglad. Bot sche, which hath ben overlad Of that sche myhte noght be wreke, For schame couthe unethes speke; And natheles mercy sche preide With wepende yhe and thus sche seide: “Helas, mi Soster, waileway, That evere I sih this ilke day! Thing which mi bodi ferst begat Into this world, onliche that 330 Mi worldes worschipe hath bereft.” With that sche swouneth now and eft, And evere wissheth after deth, So that welnyh hire lacketh breth. That other, which hire wordes herde, In confortinge of hire ansuerde, To lette hire fadres fol desir Sche wiste no recoverir: Whan thing is do, ther is no bote, So suffren thei that suffre mote; 340 Ther was non other which it wiste. Thus hath this king al that him liste Of his likinge and his plesance, And laste in such continuance, And such delit he tok therinne, Him thoghte that it was no Sinne; And sche dorste him nothing withseie.

Bot fame, which goth every weie, To sondry regnes al aboute The grete beaute telleth oute 350 Of such a maide of hih parage: So that for love of mariage The worthi Princes come and sende, As thei the whiche al honour wende, And knewe nothing hou it stod. The fader, whanne he understod, That thei his dowhter thus besoghte, With al his wit he caste and thoghte Hou that he myhte finde a lette; And such a Statut thanne he sette, 360 And in this wise his lawe he taxeth, That what man that his doghter axeth, Bot if he couthe his question Assoile upon suggestion Of certein thinges that befelle, The whiche he wolde unto him telle, He scholde in certein lese his hed. And thus ther weren manye ded, Here hevedes stondende on the gate, Till ate laste longe and late, 370 For lacke of ansuere in the wise, The remenant that weren wise Eschuieden to make assay.

Til it befell upon a day Appolinus the Prince of Tyr, Which hath to love a gret desir, As he which in his hihe mod Was likende of his hote blod, A yong, a freissh, a lusti knyht, As he lai musende on a nyht 380 Of the tidinges whiche he herde, He thoghte assaie hou that it ferde. He was with worthi compainie Arraied, and with good navie To schipe he goth, the wynd him dryveth, And seileth, til that he arryveth: Sauf in the port of Antioche He londeth, and goth to aproche The kinges Court and his presence. Of every naturel science, 390 Which eny clerk him couthe teche, He couthe ynowh, and in his speche Of wordes he was eloquent; And whanne he sih the king present, He preith he moste his dowhter have. The king ayein began to crave, And tolde him the condicion, Hou ferst unto his question He mote ansuere and faile noght, Or with his heved it schal be boght: 400 And he him axeth what it was.

The king declareth him the cas With sturne lok and sturdi chiere, To him and seide in this manere: “With felonie I am upbore, I ete and have it noght forbore Mi modres fleissh, whos housebonde Mi fader forto seche I fonde, Which is the Sone ek of my wif. Hierof I am inquisitif; 410 And who that can mi tale save, Al quyt he schal my doghter have; Of his ansuere and if he faile, He schal be ded withoute faile. Forthi my Sone,” quod the king, “Be wel avised of this thing, Which hath thi lif in jeupartie.”

Appolinus for his partie, Whan he this question hath herd, Unto the king he hath ansuerd 420 And hath rehersed on and on The pointz, and seide therupon: “The question which thou hast spoke, If thou wolt that it be unloke, It toucheth al the privete Betwen thin oghne child and thee, And stant al hol upon you tuo.”

The king was wonder sory tho, And thoghte, if that he seide it oute, Than were he schamed al aboute. 430 With slihe wordes and with felle He seith, “Mi Sone, I schal thee telle, Though that thou be of litel wit, It is no gret merveile as yit, Thin age mai it noght suffise: Bot loke wel thou noght despise Thin oghne lif, for of my grace Of thretty daies fulle a space I grante thee, to ben avised.”

And thus with leve and time assised 440 This yonge Prince forth he wente, And understod wel what it mente, Withinne his herte as he was lered, That forto maken him afered The king his time hath so deslaied. Wherof he dradde and was esmaied, Of treson that he deie scholde, For he the king his sothe tolde; And sodeinly the nyhtes tyde, That more wolde he noght abide, 450 Al prively his barge he hente And hom ayein to Tyr he wente: And in his oghne wit he seide For drede, if he the king bewreide, He knew so wel the kinges herte, That deth ne scholde he noght asterte, The king him wolde so poursuie. Bot he, that wolde his deth eschuie, And knew al this tofor the hond, Forsake he thoghte his oghne lond, 460 That there wolde he noght abyde; For wel he knew that on som syde This tirant of his felonie Be som manere of tricherie To grieve his bodi wol noght leve.

Forthi withoute take leve, Als priveliche as evere he myhte, He goth him to the See be nyhte In Schipes that be whete laden: Here takel redy tho thei maden 470 And hale up Seil and forth thei fare. Bot forto tellen of the care That thei of Tyr begonne tho, Whan that thei wiste he was ago, It is a Pite forto hiere. They losten lust, they losten chiere, Thei toke upon hem such penaunce, Ther was no song, ther was no daunce, Bot every merthe and melodie To hem was thanne a maladie; 480 For unlust of that aventure Ther was noman which tok tonsure, In doelful clothes thei hem clothe, The bathes and the Stwes bothe Thei schetten in be every weie; There was no lif which leste pleie Ne take of eny joie kepe, Bot for here liege lord to wepe; And every wyht seide as he couthe, “Helas, the lusti flour of youthe, 490 Our Prince, oure heved, our governour, Thurgh whom we stoden in honour, Withoute the comun assent Thus sodeinliche is fro ous went!” Such was the clamour of hem alle.

Bot se we now what is befalle Upon the ferste tale plein, And torne we therto ayein. Antiochus the grete Sire, Which full of rancour and of ire 500 His herte berth, so as ye herde, Of that this Prince of Tyr ansuerde, He hadde a feloun bacheler, Which was his prive consailer, And Taliart be name he hihte: The king a strong puison him dihte Withinne a buiste and gold therto, In alle haste and bad him go Strawht unto Tyr, and for no cost Ne spare he, til he hadde lost 510 The Prince which he wolde spille. And whan the king hath seid his wille, This Taliart in a Galeie With alle haste he tok his weie: The wynd was good, he saileth blyve, Til he tok lond upon the ryve Of Tyr, and forth with al anon Into the Burgh he gan to gon, And tok his In and bod a throwe. Bot for he wolde noght be knowe, 520 Desguised thanne he goth him oute; He sih the wepinge al aboute, And axeth what the cause was, And thei him tolden al the cas, How sodeinli the Prince is go. And whan he sih that it was so, And that his labour was in vein, Anon he torneth hom ayein, And to the king, whan he cam nyh, He tolde of that he herde and syh, 530 Hou that the Prince of Tyr is fled, So was he come ayein unsped. The king was sori for a while, Bot whan he sih that with no wyle He myhte achieve his crualte, He stinte his wraththe and let him be.

Bot over this now forto telle Of aventures that befelle Unto this Prince of whom I tolde, He hath his rihte cours forth holde 540 Be Ston and nedle, til he cam To Tharse, and there his lond he nam. A Burgeis riche of gold and fee Was thilke time in that cite, Which cleped was Strangulio, His wif was Dionise also: This yonge Prince, as seith the bok, With hem his herbergage tok; And it befell that Cite so Before time and thanne also, 550 Thurgh strong famyne which hem ladde Was non that eny whete hadde. Appolinus, whan that he herde The meschief, hou the cite ferde, Al freliche of his oghne yifte His whete, among hem forto schifte, The which be Schipe he hadde broght, He yaf, and tok of hem riht noght. Bot sithen ferst this world began, Was nevere yit to such a man 560 Mor joie mad than thei him made: For thei were alle of him so glade, That thei for evere in remembrance Made a figure in resemblance Of him, and in the comun place Thei sette him up, so that his face Mihte every maner man beholde, So as the cite was beholde; It was of latoun overgilt: Thus hath he noght his yifte spilt. 570

Upon a time with his route This lord to pleie goth him oute, And in his weie of Tyr he mette A man, the which on knees him grette, And Hellican be name he hihte, Which preide his lord to have insihte Upon himself, and seide him thus, Hou that the grete Antiochus Awaiteth if he mihte him spille. That other thoghte and hield him stille, 580 And thonked him of his warnynge, And bad him telle no tidinge, Whan he to Tyr cam hom ayein, That he in Tharse him hadde sein.

Fortune hath evere be muable And mai no while stonde stable: For now it hiheth, now it loweth, Now stant upriht, now overthroweth, Now full of blisse and now of bale, As in the tellinge of mi tale 590 Hierafterward a man mai liere, Which is gret routhe forto hiere. This lord, which wolde don his beste, Withinne himself hath litel reste, And thoghte he wolde his place change And seche a contre more strange. Of Tharsiens his leve anon He tok, and is to Schipe gon: His cours he nam with Seil updrawe, Where as fortune doth the lawe, 600 And scheweth, as I schal reherse, How sche was to this lord diverse, The which upon the See sche ferketh. The wynd aros, the weder derketh, It blew and made such tempeste, Non ancher mai the schip areste, Which hath tobroken al his gere; The Schipmen stode in such a feere, Was non that myhte himself bestere, Bot evere awaite upon the lere, 610 Whan that thei scholde drenche at ones. Ther was ynowh withinne wones Of wepinge and of sorghe tho; This yonge king makth mochel wo So forto se the Schip travaile: Bot al that myhte him noght availe; The mast tobrak, the Seil torof, The Schip upon the wawes drof, Til that thei sihe a londes cooste. Tho made avou the leste and moste, 620 Be so thei myhten come alonde; Bot he which hath the See on honde, Neptunus, wolde noght acorde, Bot altobroke cable and corde, Er thei to londe myhte aproche, The Schip toclef upon a roche, And al goth doun into the depe. Bot he that alle thing mai kepe Unto this lord was merciable, And broghte him sauf upon a table, 630 Which to the lond him hath upbore; The remenant was al forlore, Wherof he made mochel mone.

Thus was this yonge lord him one, Al naked in a povere plit: His colour, which whilom was whyt, Was thanne of water fade and pale, And ek he was so sore acale That he wiste of himself no bote, It halp him nothing forto mote 640 To gete ayein that he hath lore. Bot sche which hath his deth forbore, Fortune, thogh sche wol noght yelpe, Al sodeinly hath sent him helpe, Whanne him thoghte alle grace aweie; Ther cam a Fisshere in the weie, And sih a man ther naked stonde, And whan that he hath understonde The cause, he hath of him gret routhe, And onliche of his povere trouthe 650 Of suche clothes as he hadde With gret Pite this lord he cladde. And he him thonketh as he scholde, And seith him that it schal be yolde, If evere he gete his stat ayein, And preide that he wolde him sein If nyh were eny toun for him. He seide, “Yee, Pentapolim, Wher bothe king and queene duellen.” Whanne he this tale herde tellen, 660 He gladeth him and gan beseche That he the weie him wolde teche: And he him taghte; and forth he wente And preide god with good entente To sende him joie after his sorwe.

It was noght passed yit Midmorwe, Whan thiderward his weie he nam, Wher sone upon the Non he cam. He eet such as he myhte gete, And forth anon, whan he hadde ete, 670 He goth to se the toun aboute, And cam ther as he fond a route Of yonge lusti men withalle; And as it scholde tho befalle, That day was set of such assisse, That thei scholde in the londes guise, As he herde of the poeple seie, Here comun game thanne pleie; And crid was that thei scholden come Unto the gamen alle and some 680 Of hem that ben delivere and wyhte, To do such maistrie as thei myhte. Thei made hem naked as thei scholde, For so that ilke game wolde, As it was tho custume and us, Amonges hem was no refus: The flour of al the toun was there And of the court also ther were, And that was in a large place Riht evene afore the kinges face, 690 Which Artestrathes thanne hihte. The pley was pleid riht in his sihte, And who most worthi was of dede Receive he scholde a certein mede And in the cite bere a pris.

Appolinus, which war and wys Of every game couthe an ende, He thoghte assaie, hou so it wende, And fell among hem into game: And there he wan him such a name, 700 So as the king himself acompteth That he alle othre men surmonteth, And bar the pris above hem alle. The king bad that into his halle At Souper time he schal be broght; And he cam thanne and lefte it noght, Withoute compaignie al one: Was non so semlich of persone, Of visage and of limes bothe, If that he hadde what to clothe. 710 At Soupertime natheles The king amiddes al the pres Let clepe him up among hem alle, And bad his Mareschall of halle To setten him in such degre That he upon him myhte se. The king was sone set and served, And he, which hath his pris deserved After the kinges oghne word, Was mad beginne a Middel bord, 720 That bothe king and queene him sihe. He sat and caste aboute his yhe And sih the lordes in astat, And with himself wax in debat Thenkende what he hadde lore, And such a sorwe he tok therfore, That he sat evere stille and thoghte, As he which of no mete roghte.