Chapter 22

Bachus, which is the god of wyn, Acordant unto his divin A Prest, the which Cillenus hihte, He hadde, and fell so that be nyhte This Prest was drunke and goth astraied, Wherof the men were evele apaied In Frigelond, where as he wente. Bot ate laste a cherl him hente With strengthe of other felaschipe, So that upon his drunkeschipe 150 Thei bounden him with chenes faste, And forth thei ladde him als so faste Unto the king, which hihte Myde. Bot he, that wolde his vice hyde, This courteis king, tok of him hiede, And bad that men him scholde lede Into a chambre forto kepe, Til he of leisir hadde slepe. And tho this Prest was sone unbounde, And up a couche fro the grounde 160 To slepe he was leid softe ynowh; And whanne he wok, the king him drowh To his presence and dede him chiere, So that this Prest in such manere, Whil that him liketh, there he duelleth: And al this he to Bachus telleth, Whan that he cam to him ayein. And whan that Bachus herde sein How Mide hath don his courtesie, Him thenkth it were a vilenie, 170 Bot he rewarde him for his dede, So as he mihte of his godhiede. Unto this king this god appiereth And clepeth, and that other hiereth: This god to Mide thonketh faire Of that he was so debonaire Toward his Prest, and bad him seie: What thing it were he wolde preie, He scholde it have, of worldes good. This king was glad, and stille stod, 180 And was of his axinge in doute, And al the world he caste aboute, What thing was best for his astat, And with himself stod in debat Upon thre pointz, the whiche I finde Ben lievest unto mannes kinde. The ferste of hem it is delit, The tuo ben worschipe and profit. And thanne he thoghte, “If that I crave Delit, thogh I delit mai have, 190 Delit schal passen in myn age: That is no siker avantage, For every joie bodily Schal ende in wo: delit forthi Wol I noght chese. And if worschipe I axe and of the world lordschipe, That is an occupacion Of proud ymaginacion, Which makth an herte vein withinne; Ther is no certain forto winne, 200 For lord and knave al is o weie, Whan thei be bore and whan thei deie. And if I profit axe wolde, I not in what manere I scholde Of worldes good have sikernesse; For every thief upon richesse Awaiteth forto robbe and stele: Such good is cause of harmes fele. And also, thogh a man at ones Of al the world withinne his wones 210 The tresor myhte have everydel, Yit hadde he bot o mannes del Toward himself, so as I thinke, Of clothinge and of mete and drinke, For more, outake vanite, Ther hath no lord in his degre.” And thus upon the pointz diverse Diverseliche he gan reherce What point him thoghte for the beste; Bot pleinly forto gete him reste 220 He can so siker weie caste. And natheles yit ate laste He fell upon the coveitise Of gold; and thanne in sondri wise He thoghte, as I have seid tofore, Hou tresor mai be sone lore, And hadde an inly gret desir Touchende of such recoverir, Hou that he mihte his cause availe To gete him gold withoute faile. 230 Withinne his herte and thus he preiseth The gold, and seith hou that it peiseth Above al other metall most: “The gold,” he seith, “may lede an host To make werre ayein a King; The gold put under alle thing, And set it whan him list above; The gold can make of hate love And werre of pes and ryht of wrong, And long to schort and schort to long; 240 Withoute gold mai be no feste, Gold is the lord of man and beste, And mai hem bothe beie and selle; So that a man mai sothly telle That al the world to gold obeieth.” Forthi this king to Bachus preieth To grante him gold, bot he excedeth Mesure more than him nedeth. Men tellen that the maladie Which cleped is ydropesie 250 Resembled is unto this vice Be weie of kinde of Avarice: The more ydropesie drinketh, The more him thursteth, for him thinketh That he mai nevere drinke his fille; So that ther mai nothing fulfille The lustes of his appetit: And riht in such a maner plit Stant Avarice and evere stod; The more he hath of worldes good, 260 The more he wolde it kepe streyte, And evere mor and mor coveite. And riht in such condicioun Withoute good discrecioun This king with avarice is smite, That al the world it myhte wite: For he to Bachus thanne preide, That wherupon his hond he leide, It scholde thurgh his touche anon Become gold, and therupon 270 This god him granteth as he bad. Tho was this king of Frige glad, And forto put it in assai With al the haste that he mai, He toucheth that, he toucheth this, And in his hond al gold it is, The Ston, the Tree, the Lef, the gras, The flour, the fruit, al gold it was. Thus toucheth he, whil he mai laste To go, bot hunger ate laste 280 Him tok, so that he moste nede Be weie of kinde his hunger fede. The cloth was leid, the bord was set, And al was forth tofore him fet, His disch, his coppe, his drinke, his mete; Bot whanne he wolde or drinke or ete, Anon as it his mouth cam nyh, It was al gold, and thanne he syh Of Avarice the folie. And he with that began to crie, 290 And preide Bachus to foryive His gilt, and soffre him forto live And be such as he was tofore, So that he were not forlore. This god, which herde of his grevance, Tok rowthe upon his repentance, And bad him go forth redily Unto a flod was faste by, Which Paceole thanne hyhte, In which as clene as evere he myhte 300 He scholde him waisshen overal, And seide him thanne that he schal Recovere his ferste astat ayein. This king, riht as he herde sein, Into the flod goth fro the lond, And wissh him bothe fot and hond, And so forth al the remenant, As him was set in covenant: And thanne he syh merveilles strange, The flod his colour gan to change, 310 The gravel with the smale Stones To gold thei torne bothe at ones, And he was quit of that he hadde, And thus fortune his chance ladde. And whan he sih his touche aweie, He goth him hom the rihte weie And liveth forth as he dede er, And putte al Avarice afer, And the richesse of gold despiseth, And seith that mete and cloth sufficeth. 320 Thus hath this king experience Hou foles don the reverence To gold, which of his oghne kinde Is lasse worth than is the rinde To sustienance of mannes fode; And thanne he made lawes goode And al his thing sette upon skile: He bad his poeple forto tile Here lond, and live under the lawe, And that thei scholde also forthdrawe 330 Bestaile, and seche non encress Of gold, which is the breche of pes. For this a man mai finde write, Tofor the time, er gold was smite In Coign, that men the florin knewe, Ther was welnyh noman untrewe; Tho was ther nouther schield ne spere Ne dedly wepne forto bere; Tho was the toun withoute wal, Which nou is closed overal; 340 Tho was ther no brocage in londe, Which nou takth every cause on honde: So mai men knowe, hou the florin Was moder ferst of malengin And bringere inne of alle werre, Wherof this world stant out of herre Thurgh the conseil of Avarice, Which of his oghne propre vice Is as the helle wonderfull; For it mai neveremor be full, 350 That what as evere comth therinne, Awey ne may it nevere winne. Bot Sone myn, do thou noght so, Let al such Avarice go, And tak thi part of that thou hast: I bidde noght that thou do wast, Bot hold largesce in his mesure; And if thou se a creature, Which thurgh poverte is falle in nede, Yif him som good, for this I rede 360 To him that wol noght yiven here, What peine he schal have elleswhere.

Ther is a peine amonges alle Benethe in helle, which men calle The wofull peine of Tantaly, Of which I schal thee redely Devise hou men therinne stonde. In helle, thou schalt understonde, Ther is a flod of thilke office, Which serveth al for Avarice: 370 What man that stonde schal therinne, He stant up evene unto the chinne; Above his hed also ther hongeth A fruyt, which to that peine longeth, And that fruit toucheth evere in on His overlippe: and therupon Swich thurst and hunger him assaileth, That nevere his appetit ne faileth. Bot whanne he wolde his hunger fede, The fruit withdrawth him ate nede, 380 And thogh he heve his hed on hyh, The fruit is evere aliche nyh, So is the hunger wel the more: And also, thogh him thurste sore And to the water bowe a doun, The flod in such condicioun Avaleth, that his drinke areche He mai noght. Lo nou, which a wreche, That mete and drinke is him so couth, And yit ther comth non in his mouth! 390 Lich to the peines of this flod Stant Avarice in worldes good: He hath ynowh and yit him nedeth, For his skarsnesse it him forbiedeth, And evere his hunger after more Travaileth him aliche sore, So is he peined overal. Forthi thi goodes forth withal, Mi Sone, loke thou despende, Wherof thou myht thiself amende 400 Bothe hier and ek in other place. And also if thou wolt pourchace To be beloved, thou most use Largesce, for if thou refuse To yive for thi loves sake, It is no reson that thou take Of love that thou woldest crave. Forthi, if thou wolt grace have, Be gracious and do largesse, Of Avarice and the seknesse 410 Eschuie above alle other thing, And tak ensample of Mide king And of the flod of helle also, Where is ynowh of alle wo. And thogh ther were no matiere Bot only that we finden hiere, Men oghten Avarice eschuie; For what man thilke vice suie, He get himself bot litel reste. For hou so that the body reste, 420 The herte upon the gold travaileth, Whom many a nyhtes drede assaileth; For thogh he ligge abedde naked, His herte is everemore awaked, And dremeth, as he lith to slepe, How besi that he is to kepe His tresor, that no thief it stele. Thus hath he bot a woful wele.

And riht so in the same wise, If thou thiself wolt wel avise, 430 Ther be lovers of suche ynowe, That wole unto no reson bowe. If so be that thei come above, Whan thei ben maistres of here love, And that thei scholden be most glad, With love thei ben most bestad, So fain thei wolde it holden al. Here herte, here yhe is overal, And wenen every man be thief, To stele awey that hem is lief; 440 Thus thurgh here oghne fantasie Thei fallen into Jelousie. Thanne hath the Schip tobroke his cable, With every wynd and is muable.

Mi fader, for that ye nou telle, I have herd ofte time telle Of Jelousie, bot what it is Yit understod I nevere er this: Wherfore I wolde you beseche, That ye me wolde enforme and teche 450 What maner thing it mihte be.

Mi Sone, that is hard to me: Bot natheles, as I have herd, Now herkne and thou schalt ben ansuerd.

Among the men lacke of manhode In Mariage upon wifhode Makth that a man himself deceiveth, Wherof it is that he conceiveth That ilke unsely maladie, The which is cleped Jelousie: 460 Of which if I the proprete Schal telle after the nycete, So as it worcheth on a man, A Fievere it is cotidian, Which every day wol come aboute, Wher so a man be inne or oute. At hom if that a man wol wone, This Fievere is thanne of comun wone Most grevous in a mannes yhe: For thanne he makth him tote and pryhe, 470 Wher so as evere his love go; Sche schal noght with hir litel too Misteppe, bot he se it al. His yhe is walkende overal; Wher that sche singe or that sche dance, He seth the leste contienance, If sche loke on a man aside Or with him roune at eny tyde, Or that sche lawghe, or that sche loure, His yhe is ther at every houre. 480 And whanne it draweth to the nyht, If sche thanne is withoute lyht, Anon is al the game schent; For thanne he set his parlement To speke it whan he comth to bedde, And seith, “If I were now to wedde, I wolde neveremore have wif.” And so he torneth into strif The lust of loves duete, And al upon diversete. 490 If sche be freissh and wel araied, He seith hir baner is displaied To clepe in gestes fro the weie: And if sche be noght wel beseie, And that hir list noght to be gladd, He berth an hond that sche is madd And loveth noght hire housebonde; He seith he mai wel understonde, That if sche wolde his compaignie, Sche scholde thanne afore his ije 500 Schewe al the plesir that sche mihte. So that be daie ne be nyhte Sche not what thing is for the beste, Bot liveth out of alle reste; For what as evere him liste sein, Sche dar noght speke a word ayein, Bot wepth and holt hire lippes clos. Sche mai wel wryte, “Sanz repos,” The wif which is to such on maried.

Of alle wommen be he waried, 510 For with this Fievere of Jalousie His echedaies fantasie Of sorghe is evere aliche grene, So that ther is no love sene, Whil that him list at hom abyde. And whan so is he wol out ryde, Thanne hath he redi his aspie Abidinge in hir compaignie, A janglere, an evel mouthed oon, That sche ne mai nowhider gon, 520 Ne speke a word, ne ones loke, That he ne wol it wende and croke And torne after his oghne entente, Thogh sche nothing bot honour mente. Whan that the lord comth hom ayein, The janglere moste somwhat sein; So what withoute and what withinne, This Fievere is evere to beginne, For where he comth he can noght ende, Til deth of him have mad an ende. 530 For thogh so be that he ne hiere Ne se ne wite in no manere Bot al honour and wommanhiede, Therof the Jelous takth non hiede, Bot as a man to love unkinde, He cast his staf, as doth the blinde, And fint defaulte where is non; As who so dremeth on a Ston Hou he is leid, and groneth ofte, Whan he lith on his pilwes softe. 540 So is ther noght bot strif and cheste; Whan love scholde make his feste, It is gret thing if he hir kisse: Thus hath sche lost the nyhtes blisse, For at such time he gruccheth evere And berth on hond ther is a levere, And that sche wolde an other were In stede of him abedde there; And with tho wordes and with mo Of Jelousie, he torneth fro 550 And lith upon his other side, And sche with that drawth hire aside, And ther sche wepeth al the nyht. Ha, to what peine sche is dyht, That in hire youthe hath so beset The bond which mai noght ben unknet! I wot the time is ofte cursed, That evere was the gold unpursed, The which was leid upon the bok, Whan that alle othre sche forsok 560 For love of him; bot al to late Sche pleigneth, for as thanne algate Sche mot forbere and to him bowe, Thogh he ne wole it noght allowe. For man is lord of thilke feire, So mai the womman bot empeire, If sche speke oght ayein his wille; And thus sche berth hir peine stille.

Bot if this Fievere a womman take, Sche schal be wel mor harde schake; 570 For thogh sche bothe se and hiere, And finde that ther is matiere, Sche dar bot to hirselve pleine, And thus sche suffreth double peine.

Lo thus, mi Sone, as I have write, Thou miht of Jelousie wite His fievere and his condicion, Which is full of suspecion. Bot wherof that this fievere groweth, Who so these olde bokes troweth, 580 Ther mai he finden hou it is: For thei ous teche and telle this, Hou that this fievere of Jelousie Somdel it groweth of sotie Of love, and somdiel of untrust. For as a sek man lest his lust, And whan he may no savour gete, He hateth thanne his oughne mete, Riht so this fieverous maladie, Which caused is of fantasie, 590 Makth the Jelous in fieble plit To lese of love his appetit Thurgh feigned enformacion Of his ymaginacion.

Bot finali to taken hiede, Men mai wel make a liklihiede Betwen him which is averous Of gold and him that is jelous Of love, for in on degre Thei stonde bothe, as semeth me. 600 That oon wolde have his bagges stille, And noght departen with his wille, And dar noght for the thieves slepe, So fain he wolde his tresor kepe; That other mai noght wel be glad, For he is evere more adrad Of these lovers that gon aboute, In aunter if thei putte him oute. So have thei bothe litel joye As wel of love as of monoie. 610

Now hast thou, Sone, at my techinge Of Jelousie a knowlechinge, That thou myht understonde this, Fro whenne he comth and what he is, And ek to whom that he is lik. Be war forthi thou be noght sik Of thilke fievere as I have spoke, For it wol in himself be wroke. For love hateth nothing more, As men mai finde be the lore 620 Of hem that whilom were wise, Hou that thei spieke in many wise.

Mi fader, soth is that ye sein. Bot forto loke therayein, Befor this time hou it is falle, Wherof ther mihte ensample falle To suche men as be jelous In what manere it is grevous, Riht fain I wolde ensample hiere.

My goode Sone, at thi preiere 630 Of suche ensamples as I finde, So as thei comen nou to mynde Upon this point, of time gon I thenke forto tellen on.

Ovide wrot of manye thinges, Among the whiche in his wrytinges He tolde a tale in Poesie, Which toucheth unto Jelousie, Upon a certein cas of love. Among the goddes alle above 640 It fell at thilke time thus: The god of fyr, which Vulcanus Is hote, and hath a craft forthwith Assigned, forto be the Smith Of Jupiter, and his figure Bothe of visage and of stature Is lothly and malgracious, Bot yit he hath withinne his hous As for the likynge of his lif The faire Venus to his wif. 650 Bot Mars, which of batailles is The god, an yhe hadde unto this: As he which was chivalerous, It fell him to ben amerous, And thoghte it was a gret pite To se so lusti on as sche Be coupled with so lourde a wiht: So that his peine day and nyht He dede, if he hire winne myhte; And sche, which hadde a good insihte 660 Toward so noble a knyhtli lord, In love fell of his acord. Ther lacketh noght bot time and place, That he nys siker of hire grace: Bot whan tuo hertes falle in on, So wys await was nevere non, That at som time thei ne mete; And thus this faire lusti swete With Mars hath ofte compaignie. Bot thilke unkynde Jelousie, 670 Which everemor the herte opposeth, Makth Vulcanus that he supposeth That it is noght wel overal, And to himself he seide, he schal Aspie betre, if that he may; And so it fell upon a day, That he this thing so slyhli ledde, He fond hem bothe tuo abedde Al warm, echon with other naked. And he with craft al redy maked 680 Of stronge chenes hath hem bounde, As he togedre hem hadde founde, And lefte hem bothe ligge so, And gan to clepe and crie tho Unto the goddes al aboute; And thei assembled in a route Come alle at ones forto se. Bot none amendes hadde he, Bot was rebuked hiere and there Of hem that loves frendes were; 690 And seiden that he was to blame, For if ther fell him eny schame, It was thurgh his misgovernance: And thus he loste contienance, This god, and let his cause falle; And thei to skorne him lowhen alle, And losen Mars out of hise bondes. Wherof these erthli housebondes For evere myhte ensample take, If such a chaunce hem overtake: 700 For Vulcanus his wif bewreide, The blame upon himself he leide, Wherof his schame was the more; Which oghte forto ben a lore For every man that liveth hiere, To reulen him in this matiere. Thogh such an happ of love asterte, Yit scholde he noght apointe his herte With Jelousie of that is wroght, Bot feigne, as thogh he wiste it noght: 710 For if he lete it overpasse, The sclaundre schal be wel the lasse, And he the more in ese stonde. For this thou myht wel understonde, That where a man schal nedes lese, The leste harm is forto chese. Bot Jelousie of his untrist Makth that full many an harm arist, Which elles scholde noght arise; And if a man him wolde avise 720 Of that befell to Vulcanus, Him oghte of reson thenke thus, That sithe a god therof was schamed, Wel scholde an erthli man be blamed To take upon him such a vice.

Forthi, my Sone, in thin office Be war that thou be noght jelous, Which ofte time hath schent the hous.

Mi fader, this ensample is hard, Hou such thing to the heveneward 730 Among the goddes myhte falle: For ther is bot o god of alle, Which is the lord of hevene and helle. Bot if it like you to telle Hou suche goddes come aplace, Ye mihten mochel thonk pourchace, For I schal be wel tawht withal.

Mi Sone, it is thus overal With hem that stonden misbelieved, That suche goddes ben believed: 740 In sondri place sondri wise Amonges hem whiche are unwise Ther is betaken of credence; Wherof that I the difference In the manere as it is write Schal do the pleinly forto wite.

Er Crist was bore among ous hiere, Of the believes that tho were In foure formes thus it was. Thei of Caldee as in this cas 750 Hadde a believe be hemselve, Which stod upon the signes tuelve, Forth ek with the Planetes sevene, Whiche as thei sihe upon the hevene. Of sondri constellacion In here ymaginacion With sondri kerf and pourtreture Thei made of goddes the figure.

In thelementz and ek also Thei hadden a believe tho; 760 And al was that unresonable: For thelementz ben servicable To man, and ofte of Accidence, As men mai se thexperience, Thei ben corrupt be sondri weie; So mai no mannes reson seie That thei ben god in eny wise. And ek, if men hem wel avise, The Sonne and Mone eclipse bothe, That be hem lieve or be hem lothe, 770 Thei soffre; and what thing is passible To ben a god is impossible. These elementz ben creatures, So ben these hevenly figures, Wherof mai wel be justefied That thei mai noght be deified: And who that takth awey thonour Which due is to the creatour, And yifth it to the creature, He doth to gret a forsfaiture. 780 Bot of Caldee natheles Upon this feith, thogh it be les, Thei holde affermed the creance; So that of helle the penance, As folk which stant out of believe, They schull receive, as we believe.

Of the Caldeus lo in this wise Stant the believe out of assisse: Bot in Egipte worst of alle The feith is fals, hou so it falle; 790 For thei diverse bestes there Honoure, as thogh thei goddes were: And natheles yit forth withal Thre goddes most in special Thei have, forth with a goddesse, In whom is al here sikernesse. Tho goddes be yit cleped thus, Orus, Typhon and Isirus: Thei were brethren alle thre, And the goddesse in hir degre 800 Here Soster was and Ysis hyhte, Whom Isirus forlai be nyhte And hield hire after as his wif. So it befell that upon strif Typhon hath Isre his brother slain, Which hadde a child to Sone Orayn, And he his fader deth to herte So tok, that it mai noght asterte That he Typhon after ne slowh, Whan he was ripe of age ynowh. 810 Bot yit thegipcienes trowe For al this errour, which thei knowe, That these brethren ben of myht To sette and kepe Egipte upriht, And overthrowe, if that hem like. Bot Ysis, as seith the Cronique, Fro Grece into Egipte cam, And sche thanne upon honde nam To teche hem forto sowe and eere, Which noman knew tofore there. 820 And whan thegipcienes syhe The fieldes fulle afore here yhe, And that the lond began to greine, Which whilom hadde be bareigne,— For therthe bar after the kinde His due charge,—this I finde, That sche of berthe the goddesse Is cleped, so that in destresse The wommen there upon childinge To hire clepe, and here offringe 830 Thei beren, whan that thei ben lyhte. Lo, hou Egipte al out of syhte Fro resoun stant in misbelieve For lacke of lore, as I believe.