Chapter 25

In a Cronique this I rede. Aboute a king, as moste nede, Ther was of knyhtes and squiers Gret route, and ek of Officers: Some of long time him hadden served, And thoghten that thei have deserved Avancement, and gon withoute; And some also ben of the route 2280 That comen bot a while agon, And thei avanced were anon. These olde men upon this thing, So as thei dorste, ayein the king Among hemself compleignen ofte: Bot ther is nothing seid so softe, That it ne comth out ate laste; The king it wiste, and als so faste, As he which was of hih Prudence, He schop therfore an evidence 2290 Of hem that pleignen in that cas, To knowe in whos defalte it was. And al withinne his oghne entente, That noman wiste what it mente, Anon he let tuo cofres make Of o semblance and of o make, So lich that no lif thilke throwe That on mai fro that other knowe: Thei were into his chambre broght, Bot noman wot why thei be wroght, 2300 And natheles the king hath bede That thei be set in prive stede. As he that was of wisdom slih, Whan he therto his time sih, Al prively, that non it wiste, Hise oghne hondes that o kiste Of fin gold and of fin perrie, The which out of his tresorie Was take, anon he felde full; That other cofre of straw and mull 2310 With Stones meind he felde also. Thus be thei fulle bothe tuo, So that erliche upon a day He bad withinne, ther he lay, Ther scholde be tofore his bed A bord upset and faire spred; And thanne he let the cofres fette, Upon the bord and dede hem sette. He knew the names wel of tho, The whiche ayein him grucche so, 2320 Bothe of his chambre and of his halle, Anon and sende for hem alle, And seide to hem in this wise: “Ther schal noman his happ despise; I wot wel ye have longe served, And god wot what ye have deserved: Bot if it is along on me Of that ye unavanced be, Or elles it be long on you, The sothe schal be proved nou, 2330 To stoppe with youre evele word. Lo hier tuo cofres on the bord: Ches which you list of bothe tuo; And witeth wel that on of tho Is with tresor so full begon, That if ye happe therupon, Ye schull be riche men for evere. Now ches and tak which you is levere: Bot be wel war, er that ye take; For of that on I undertake 2340 Ther is no maner good therinne, Wherof ye mihten profit winne. Now goth togedre of on assent And taketh youre avisement, For bot I you this dai avance, It stant upon youre oghne chance Al only in defalte of grace: So schal be schewed in this place Upon you alle wel afyn, That no defalte schal be myn.” 2350 Thei knelen alle and with o vois The king thei thonken of this chois: And after that thei up arise, And gon aside and hem avise, And ate laste thei acorde; Wherof her tale to recorde, To what issue thei be falle, A kniht schal speke for hem alle. He kneleth doun unto the king, And seith that thei upon this thing, 2360 Or forto winne or forto lese, Ben alle avised forto chese. Tho tok this kniht a yerde on honde, And goth there as the cofres stonde, And with assent of everichon He leith his yerde upon that on, And seith the king hou thilke same Thei chese in reguerdoun be name, And preith him that thei mote it have. The king, which wolde his honour save, 2370 Whan he hath herd the commun vois, Hath granted hem here oghne chois And tok hem therupon the keie. Bot for he wolde it were seie What good thei have, as thei suppose, He bad anon the cofre unclose, Which was fulfild with straw and stones: Thus be thei served al at ones. This king thanne in the same stede Anon that other cofre undede, 2380 Where as thei sihen gret richesse, Wel more than thei couthen gesse. “Lo,” seith the king, “nou mai ye se That ther is no defalte in me; Forthi miself I wole aquyte, And bereth ye youre oghne wyte Of that fortune hath you refused.” Thus was this wise king excused, And thei lefte of here evele speche And mercy of here king beseche. 2390

Somdiel to this matiere lik I finde a tale, hou Frederik, Of Rome that time Emperour, Herde, as he wente, a gret clamour Of tuo beggers upon the weie. That on of hem began to seie, “Ha lord, wel mai the man be riche Whom that a king list forto riche.” That other saide nothing so, Bot, “He is riche and wel bego, 2400 To whom that god wole sende wele.” And thus thei maden wordes fele, Wherof this lord hath hiede nome, And dede hem bothe forto come To the Paleis, wher he schal ete, And bad ordeine for here mete Tuo Pastes, whiche he let do make. A capoun in that on was bake, And in that other forto winne Of florins al that mai withinne 2410 He let do pute a gret richesse; And evene aliche, as man mai gesse, Outward thei were bothe tuo. This begger was comanded tho, He that which hield him to the king, That he ferst chese upon this thing: He sih hem, bot he felte hem noght, So that upon his oghne thoght He ches the Capoun and forsok That other, which his fela tok. 2420 Bot whanne he wiste hou that it ferde, He seide alowd, that men it herde, “Nou have I certeinly conceived That he mai lihtly be deceived, That tristeth unto mannes helpe; Bot wel is him whom god wol helpe, For he stant on the siker side, Which elles scholde go beside: I se my fela wel recovere, And I mot duelle stille povere.” 2430

Thus spak this begger his entente, And povere he cam and povere he wente; Of that he hath richesse soght, His infortune it wolde noght. So mai it schewe in sondri wise, Betwen fortune and covoitise The chance is cast upon a Dee; Bot yit fulofte a man mai se Ynowe of suche natheles, Whiche evere pute hemself in press 2440 To gete hem good, and yit thei faile.

And forto speke of this entaile Touchende of love in thi matiere, Mi goode Sone, as thou miht hiere, That riht as it with tho men stod Of infortune of worldes good, As thou hast herd me telle above, Riht so fulofte it stant be love: Thogh thou coveite it everemore, Thou schalt noght have o diel the more, 2450 Bot only that which thee is schape, The remenant is bot a jape. And natheles ynowe of tho Ther ben, that nou coveiten so, That where as thei a womman se, Ye ten or tuelve thogh ther be, The love is nou so unavised, That wher the beaute stant assised, The mannes herte anon is there, And rouneth tales in hire Ere, 2460 And seith hou that he loveth streite, And thus he set him to coveite, An hundred thogh he sihe aday. So wolde he more thanne he may; Bot for the grete covoitise Of sotie and of fol emprise In ech of hem he fint somwhat That pleseth him, or this or that; Som on, for sche is whit of skin, Som on, for sche is noble of kin, 2470 Som on, for sche hath rodi chieke, Som on, for that sche semeth mieke, Som on, for sche hath yhen greie, Som on, for sche can lawhe and pleie, Som on, for sche is long and smal, Som on, for sche is lyte and tall, Som on, for sche is pale and bleche, Som on, for sche is softe of speche, Som on, for that sche is camused, Som on, for sche hath noght ben used, 2480 Som on, for sche can daunce and singe; So that som thing to his likinge He fint, and thogh nomore he fiele, Bot that sche hath a litel hiele, It is ynow that he therfore Hire love, and thus an hundred score, Whil thei be newe, he wolde he hadde; Whom he forsakth, sche schal be badde. The blinde man no colour demeth, But al is on, riht as him semeth; 2490 So hath his lust no juggement, Whom covoitise of love blent. Him thenkth that to his covoitise Hou al the world ne mai suffise, For be his wille he wolde have alle, If that it mihte so befalle: Thus is he commun as the Strete, I sette noght of his beyete.

Mi Sone, hast thou such covoitise?

Nai, fader, such love I despise, 2500 And whil I live schal don evere, For in good feith yit hadde I levere, Than to coveite in such a weie, To ben for evere til I deie As povere as Job, and loveles, Outaken on, for haveles His thonkes is noman alyve. For that a man scholde al unthryve Ther oghte no wisman coveite, The lawe was noght set so streite: 2510 Forthi miself withal to save, Such on ther is I wolde have, And non of al these othre mo.

Mi Sone, of that thou woldest so, I am noght wroth, bot over this I wol thee tellen hou it is. For ther be men, whiche otherwise, Riht only for the covoitise Of that thei sen a womman riche, Ther wol thei al here love affiche; 2520 Noght for the beaute of hire face, Ne yit for vertu ne for grace, Which sche hath elles riht ynowh, Bot for the Park and for the plowh, And other thing which therto longeth: For in non other wise hem longeth To love, bot thei profit finde; And if the profit be behinde, Here love is evere lesse and lesse, For after that sche hath richesse, 2530 Her love is of proporcion. If thou hast such condicion, Mi Sone, tell riht as it is.

Min holi fader, nay ywiss, Condicion such have I non. For trewli, fader, I love oon So wel with al myn hertes thoght, That certes, thogh sche hadde noght, And were as povere as Medea, Which was exiled for Creusa, 2540 I wolde hir noght the lasse love; Ne thogh sche were at hire above, As was the riche qwen Candace, Which to deserve love and grace To Alisandre, that was king, Yaf many a worthi riche thing, Or elles as Pantasilee, Which was the quen of Feminee, And gret richesse with hir nam, Whan sche for love of Hector cam 2550 To Troie in rescousse of the toun,— I am of such condicion, That thogh mi ladi of hirselve Were also riche as suche tuelve, I couthe noght, thogh it wer so, No betre love hir than I do. For I love in so plein a wise, That forto speke of coveitise, As for poverte or for richesse Mi love is nouther mor ne lesse. 2560 For in good feith I trowe this, So coveitous noman ther is, Forwhy and he mi ladi sihe, That he thurgh lokinge of his yhe Ne scholde have such a strok withinne, That for no gold he mihte winne He scholde noght hire love asterte, Bot if he lefte there his herte; Be so it were such a man, That couthe Skile of a womman. 2570 For ther be men so ruide some, Whan thei among the wommen come, Thei gon under proteccioun, That love and his affeccioun Ne schal noght take hem be the slieve; For thei ben out of that believe, Hem lusteth of no ladi chiere, Bot evere thenken there and hiere Wher that here gold is in the cofre, And wol non other love profre: 2580 Bot who so wot what love amounteth And be resoun trewliche acompteth, Than mai he knowe and taken hiede That al the lust of wommanhiede, Which mai ben in a ladi face, Mi ladi hath, and ek of grace If men schull yiven hire a pris, Thei mai wel seie hou sche is wys And sobre and simple of contenance, And al that to good governance 2590 Belongeth of a worthi wiht Sche hath pleinli: for thilke nyht That sche was bore, as for the nones Nature sette in hire at ones Beaute with bounte so besein, That I mai wel afferme and sein, I sawh yit nevere creature Of comlihied and of feture In eny kinges regioun Be lich hire in comparisoun: 2600 And therto, as I have you told, Yit hath sche more a thousendfold Of bounte, and schortli to telle, Sche is the pure hed and welle And Mirour and ensample of goode. Who so hir vertus understode, Me thenkth it oughte ynow suffise Withouten other covoitise To love such on and to serve, Which with hire chiere can deserve 2610 To be beloved betre ywiss Than sche per cas that richest is And hath of gold a Milion. Such hath be myn opinion And evere schal: bot natheles I seie noght sche is haveles, That sche nys riche and wel at ese, And hath ynow wherwith to plese Of worldes good whom that hire liste; Bot o thing wolde I wel ye wiste, 2620 That nevere for no worldes good Min herte untoward hire stod, Bot only riht for pure love; That wot the hihe god above. Nou, fader, what seie ye therto?

Mi Sone, I seie it is wel do. For tak of this riht good believe, What man that wole himself relieve To love in eny other wise, He schal wel finde his coveitise 2630 Schal sore grieve him ate laste, For such a love mai noght laste. Bot nou, men sein, in oure daies Men maken bot a fewe assaies, Bot if the cause be richesse; Forthi the love is wel the lesse. And who that wolde ensamples telle, Be olde daies as thei felle, Than mihte a man wel understonde Such love mai noght longe stonde. 2640 Now herkne, Sone, and thou schalt hiere A gret ensample of this matiere.

To trete upon the cas of love, So as we tolden hiere above, I finde write a wonder thing. Of Puile whilom was a king, A man of hih complexioun And yong, bot his affeccioun After the nature of his age Was yit noght falle in his corage 2650 The lust of wommen forto knowe. So it betidde upon a throwe This lord fell into gret seknesse: Phisique hath don the besinesse Of sondri cures manyon To make him hol; and therupon A worthi maister which ther was Yaf him conseil upon this cas, That if he wolde have parfit hele, He scholde with a womman dele, 2660 A freissh, a yong, a lusti wiht, To don him compaignie a nyht: For thanne he seide him redily, That he schal be al hol therby, And otherwise he kneu no cure.

This king, which stod in aventure Of lif and deth, for medicine Assented was, and of covine His Steward, whom he tristeth wel, He tok, and tolde him everydel, 2670 Hou that this maister hadde seid: And therupon he hath him preid And charged upon his ligance, That he do make porveance Of such on as be covenable For his plesance and delitable; And bad him, hou that evere it stod, That he schal spare for no good, For his will is riht wel to paie.

The Steward seide he wolde assaie: 2680 Bot nou hierafter thou schalt wite, As I finde in the bokes write, What coveitise in love doth. This Steward, forto telle soth, Amonges al the men alyve A lusti ladi hath to wyve, Which natheles for gold he tok And noght for love, as seith the bok. A riche Marchant of the lond Hir fader was, and hire fond 2690 So worthily, and such richesse Of worldes good and such largesse With hire he yaf in mariage, That only for thilke avantage Of good this Steward hath hire take, For lucre and noght for loves sake, And that was afterward wel seene; Nou herkne what it wolde meene.

This Steward in his oghne herte Sih that his lord mai noght asterte 2700 His maladie, bot he have A lusti womman him to save, And thoghte he wolde yive ynowh Of his tresor; wherof he drowh Gret coveitise into his mynde, And sette his honour fer behynde. Thus he, whom gold hath overset, Was trapped in his oghne net; The gold hath mad hise wittes lame, So that sechende his oghne schame 2710 He rouneth in the kinges Ere, And seide him that he wiste where A gentile and a lusti on Tho was, and thider wolde he gon: Bot he mot yive yiftes grete; For bot it be thurgh grete beyete Of gold, he seith, he schal noght spede. The king him bad upon the nede That take an hundred pound he scholde, And yive it where that he wolde, 2720 Be so it were in worthi place: And thus to stonde in loves grace This king his gold hath abandouned. And whan this tale was full rouned, The Steward tok the gold and wente, Withinne his herte and many a wente Of coveitise thanne he caste, Wherof a pourpos ate laste Ayein love and ayein his riht He tok, and seide hou thilke nyht 2730 His wif schal ligge be the king; And goth thenkende upon this thing Toward his In, til he cam hom Into the chambre, and thanne he nom His wif, and tolde hire al the cas. And sche, which red for schame was, With bothe hire handes hath him preid Knelende and in this wise seid, That sche to reson and to skile In what thing that he bidde wile 2740 Is redy forto don his heste, Bot this thing were noght honeste, That he for gold hire scholde selle. And he tho with hise wordes felle Forth with his gastly contienance Seith that sche schal don obeissance And folwe his will in every place; And thus thurgh strengthe of his manace Hir innocence is overlad, Wherof sche was so sore adrad 2750 That sche his will mot nede obeie. And therupon was schape a weie, That he his oghne wif be nyhte Hath out of alle mennes sihte So prively that non it wiste Broght to the king, which as him liste Mai do with hire what he wolde. For whan sche was ther as sche scholde, With him abedde under the cloth, The Steward tok his leve and goth 2760 Into a chambre faste by; Bot hou he slep, that wot noght I, For he sih cause of jelousie.

Bot he, which hath the compainie Of such a lusti on as sche, Him thoghte that of his degre Ther was noman so wel at ese: Sche doth al that sche mai to plese, So that his herte al hol sche hadde; And thus this king his joie ladde, 2770 Til it was nyh upon the day. The Steward thanne wher sche lay Cam to the bedd, and in his wise Hath bede that sche scholde arise. The king seith, “Nay, sche schal noght go.” His Steward seide ayein, “Noght so; For sche mot gon er it be knowe, And so I swor at thilke throwe, Whan I hire fette to you hiere.” The king his tale wol noght hiere, 2780 And seith hou that he hath hire boght, Forthi sche schal departe noght, Til he the brighte dai beholde. And cawhte hire in hise armes folde, As he which liste forto pleie, And bad his Steward gon his weie, And so he dede ayein his wille. And thus his wif abedde stille Lay with the king the longe nyht, Til that it was hih Sonne lyht; 2790 Bot who sche was he knew nothing.

Tho cam the Steward to the king And preide him that withoute schame In savinge of hire goode name He myhte leden hom ayein This lady, and hath told him plein Hou that it was his oghne wif. The king his Ere unto this strif Hath leid, and whan that he it herde, Welnyh out of his wit he ferde, 2800 And seide, “Ha, caitif most of alle, Wher was it evere er this befalle, That eny cokard in this wise Betok his wif for coveitise? Thou hast bothe hire and me beguiled And ek thin oghne astat reviled, Wherof that buxom unto thee Hierafter schal sche nevere be. For this avou to god I make, After this day if I thee take, 2810 Thou schalt ben honged and todrawe. Nou loke anon thou be withdrawe, So that I se thee neveremore.” This Steward thanne dradde him sore, With al the haste that he mai And fledde awei that same dai, And was exiled out of londe.

Lo, there a nyce housebonde, Which thus hath lost his wif for evere! Bot natheles sche hadde a levere; 2820 The king hire weddeth and honoureth, Wherof hire name sche socoureth, Which erst was lost thurgh coveitise Of him, that ladde hire other wise, And hath himself also forlore.

Mi Sone, be thou war therfore, Wher thou schalt love in eny place, That thou no covoitise embrace, The which is noght of loves kinde. Bot for al that a man mai finde 2830 Nou in this time of thilke rage Ful gret desese in mariage, Whan venym melleth with the Sucre And mariage is mad for lucre, Or for the lust or for the hele: What man that schal with outher dele, He mai noght faile to repente.

Mi fader, such is myn entente: Bot natheles good is to have, For good mai ofte time save 2840 The love which scholde elles spille. Bot god, which wot myn hertes wille, I dar wel take to witnesse, Yit was I nevere for richesse Beset with mariage non; For al myn herte is upon on So frely, that in the persone Stant al my worldes joie al one: I axe nouther Park ne Plowh, If I hire hadde, it were ynowh, 2850 Hir love scholde me suffise Withouten other coveitise. Lo now, mi fader, as of this, Touchende of me riht as it is, Mi schrifte I am beknowe plein; And if ye wole oght elles sein, Of covoitise if ther be more In love, agropeth out the sore.

Mi Sone, thou schalt understonde Hou Coveitise hath yit on honde 2860 In special tuo conseilours, That ben also hise procurours. The ferst of hem is Falswitnesse, Which evere is redi to witnesse What thing his maister wol him hote: Perjurie is the secounde hote, Which spareth noght to swere an oth, Thogh it be fals and god be wroth. That on schal falswitnesse bere, That other schal the thing forswere, 2870 Whan he is charged on the bok. So what with hepe and what with crok Thei make here maister ofte winne And wol noght knowe what is sinne For coveitise, and thus, men sain, Thei maken many a fals bargain. Ther mai no trewe querele arise In thilke queste and thilke assise, Where as thei tuo the poeple enforme; For thei kepe evere o maner forme, 2880 That upon gold here conscience Thei founde, and take here evidence; And thus with falswitnesse and othes Thei winne hem mete and drinke and clothes.

Riht so ther be, who that hem knewe, Of thes lovers ful many untrewe: Nou mai a womman finde ynowe, That ech of hem, whan he schal wowe, Anon he wole his hand doun lein Upon a bok, and swere and sein 2890 That he wole feith and trouthe bere; And thus he profreth him to swere To serven evere til he die, And al is verai tricherie. For whan the sothe himselven trieth, The more he swerth, the more he lieth; Whan he his feith makth althermest, Than mai a womman truste him lest; For til he mai his will achieve, He is no lengere forto lieve. 2900 Thus is the trouthe of love exiled, And many a good womman beguiled.

And ek to speke of Falswitnesse, There be nou many suche, I gesse, That lich unto the provisours Thei make here prive procurours, To telle hou ther is such a man, Which is worthi to love and can Al that a good man scholde kunne; So that with lesinge is begunne 2910 The cause in which thei wole procede, And also siker as the crede Thei make of that thei knowen fals. And thus fulofte aboute the hals Love is of false men embraced; Bot love which is so pourchaced Comth afterward to litel pris. Forthi, mi Sone, if thou be wis, Nou thou hast herd this evidence, Thou miht thin oghne conscience 2920 Oppose, if thou hast ben such on.

Nai, god wot, fader I am non, Ne nevere was; for as men seith, Whan that a man schal make his feith, His herte and tunge moste acorde; For if so be that thei discorde, Thanne is he fals and elles noght: And I dar seie, as of my thoght, In love it is noght descordable Unto mi word, bot acordable. 2930 And in this wise, fader, I Mai riht wel swere and salvely, That I mi ladi love wel, For that acordeth everydel. It nedeth noght to mi sothsawe That I witnesse scholde drawe, Into this dai for nevere yit Ne mihte it sinke into mi wit, That I my conseil scholde seie To eny wiht, or me bewreie 2940 To sechen help in such manere, Bot only of mi ladi diere. And thogh a thousend men it wiste, That I hire love, and thanne hem liste With me to swere and to witnesse, Yit were that no falswitnesse; For I dar on this trouthe duelle, I love hire mor than I can telle. Thus am I, fader, gulteles, As ye have herd, and natheles 2950 In youre dom I put it al.

Mi Sone, wite in special, It schal noght comunliche faile, Al thogh it for a time availe That Falswitnesse his cause spede, Upon the point of his falshiede It schal wel afterward be kid; Wherof, so as it is betid, Ensample of suche thinges blinde In a Cronique write I finde. 2960

The Goddesse of the See Thetis, Sche hadde a Sone, and his name is Achilles, whom to kepe and warde, Whil he was yong, as into warde Sche thoghte him salfly to betake, As sche which dradde for his sake Of that was seid in prophecie, That he at Troie scholde die, Whan that the Cite was belein. Forthi, so as the bokes sein, 2970 Sche caste hire wit in sondri wise, Hou sche him mihte so desguise That noman scholde his bodi knowe: And so befell that ilke throwe, Whil that sche thoghte upon this dede, Ther was a king, which Lichomede Was hote, and he was wel begon With faire dowhtres manyon, And duelte fer out in an yle.