Chapter 46

Nou lete we this maiden hiere, And speke of Dionise ayein And of Theophile the vilein, 1500 Of whiche I spak of nou tofore. Whan Thaise scholde have be forlore, This false cherl to his lady Whan he cam hom, al prively He seith, “Ma Dame, slain I have This maide Thaise, and is begrave In prive place, as ye me biede. Forthi, ma dame, taketh hiede And kep conseil, hou so it stonde.” This fend, which this hath understonde, 1510 Was glad, and weneth it be soth: Now herkne, hierafter hou sche doth. Sche wepth, sche sorweth, sche compleigneth, And of sieknesse which sche feigneth Sche seith that Taise sodeinly Be nyhte is ded, “as sche and I Togedre lyhen nyh my lord.” Sche was a womman of record, And al is lieved that sche seith; And forto yive a more feith, 1520 Hire housebonde and ek sche bothe In blake clothes thei hem clothe, And made a gret enterrement; And for the poeple schal be blent, Of Thaise as for the remembrance, After the real olde usance A tumbe of latoun noble and riche With an ymage unto hir liche Liggende above therupon Thei made and sette it up anon. 1530 Hire Epitaffe of good assisse Was write aboute, and in this wise It spak: “O yee that this beholde, Lo, hier lith sche, the which was holde The faireste and the flour of alle, Whos name Thaïsis men calle. The king of Tyr Appolinus Hire fader was: now lith sche thus. Fourtiene yer sche was of Age, Whan deth hir tok to his viage.” 1540

Thus was this false treson hidd, Which afterward was wyde kidd, As be the tale a man schal hiere. Bot forto clare mi matiere, To Tyr I thenke torne ayein, And telle as the Croniqes sein. Whan that the king was comen hom, And hath left in the salte fom His wif, which he mai noght foryete, For he som confort wolde gete, 1550 He let somoune a parlement, To which the lordes were asent; And of the time he hath ben oute, He seth the thinges al aboute, And told hem ek hou he hath fare, Whil he was out of londe fare; And preide hem alle to abyde, For he wolde at the same tyde Do schape for his wyves mynde, As he that wol noght ben unkinde. 1560 Solempne was that ilke office, And riche was the sacrifice, The feste reali was holde: And therto was he wel beholde; For such a wif as he hadde on In thilke daies was ther non.

Whan this was do, thanne he him thoghte Upon his doghter, and besoghte Suche of his lordes as he wolde, That thei with him to Tharse scholde, 1570 To fette his doghter Taise there: And thei anon al redy were, To schip they gon and forth thei wente, Til thei the havene of Tharse hente. They londe and faile of that thei seche Be coverture and sleyhte of speche: This false man Strangulio, And Dionise his wif also, That he the betre trowe myhte, Thei ladden him to have a sihte 1580 Wher that hir tombe was arraied. The lasse yit he was mispaied, And natheles, so as he dorste, He curseth and seith al the worste Unto fortune, as to the blinde, Which can no seker weie finde; For sche him neweth evere among, And medleth sorwe with his song. Bot sithe it mai no betre be,

He thonketh god and forth goth he 1590 Seilende toward Tyr ayein. Bot sodeinly the wynd and reyn Begonne upon the See debate, So that he soffre mot algate The lawe which Neptune ordeigneth; Wherof fulofte time he pleigneth, And hield him wel the more esmaied Of that he hath tofore assaied. So that for pure sorwe and care, Of that he seth his world so fare, 1600 The reste he lefte of his Caban, That for the conseil of noman Ayein therinne he nolde come, Bot hath benethe his place nome, Wher he wepende al one lay, Ther as he sih no lyht of day. And thus tofor the wynd thei dryve, Til longe and late thei aryve With gret distresce, as it was sene, Upon this toun of Mitelene, 1610 Which was a noble cite tho. And hapneth thilke time so, The lordes bothe and the comune The hihe festes of Neptune Upon the stronde at the rivage, As it was custumme and usage, Sollempneliche thei besihe.

Whan thei this strange vessel syhe Come in, and hath his Seil avaled, The toun therof hath spoke and taled. 1620 The lord which of the cite was, Whos name is Athenagoras, Was there, and seide he wolde se What Schip it is, and who thei be That ben therinne: and after sone, Whan that he sih it was to done, His barge was for him arraied, And he goth forth and hath assaied. He fond the Schip of gret Array, Bot what thing it amonte may, 1630 He seth thei maden hevy chiere, Bot wel him thenkth be the manere That thei be worthi men of blod, And axeth of hem hou it stod; And thei him tellen al the cas, Hou that here lord fordrive was, And what a sorwe that he made, Of which ther mai noman him glade. He preith that he here lord mai se, Bot thei him tolde it mai noght be, 1640 For he lith in so derk a place, That ther may no wiht sen his face: Bot for al that, thogh hem be loth, He fond the ladre and doun he goth, And to him spak, bot non ansuere Ayein of him ne mihte he bere For oght that he can don or sein; And thus he goth him up ayein.

Tho was ther spoke in many wise Amonges hem that weren wise, 1650 Now this, now that, bot ate laste The wisdom of the toun this caste, That yonge Taise were asent. For if ther be amendement To glade with this woful king, Sche can so moche of every thing, That sche schal gladen him anon. A Messager for hire is gon, And sche cam with hire Harpe on honde, And seide hem that sche wolde fonde 1660 Be alle weies that sche can, To glade with this sory man. Bot what he was sche wiste noght, Bot al the Schip hire hath besoght That sche hire wit on him despende, In aunter if he myhte amende, And sein it schal be wel aquit. Whan sche hath understonden it, Sche goth hir doun, ther as he lay, Wher that sche harpeth many a lay 1670 And lich an Angel sang withal; Bot he nomore than the wal Tok hiede of eny thing he herde. And whan sche sih that he so ferde, Sche falleth with him into wordes, And telleth him of sondri bordes, And axeth him demandes strange, Wherof sche made his herte change, And to hire speche his Ere he leide And hath merveile of that sche seide. 1680 For in proverbe and in probleme Sche spak, and bad he scholde deme In many soubtil question: Bot he for no suggestioun Which toward him sche couthe stere, He wolde noght o word ansuere, Bot as a madd man ate laste His heved wepende awey he caste, And half in wraththe he bad hire go. Bot yit sche wolde noght do so, 1690 And in the derke forth sche goth, Til sche him toucheth, and he wroth, And after hire with his hond He smot: and thus whan sche him fond Desesed, courtaisly sche saide, “Avoi, mi lord, I am a Maide; And if ye wiste what I am, And out of what lignage I cam, Ye wolde noght be so salvage.”

With that he sobreth his corage 1700 And put awey his hevy chiere. Bot of hem tuo a man mai liere What is to be so sibb of blod: Non wiste of other hou it stod, And yit the fader ate laste His herte upon this maide caste, That he hire loveth kindely, And yit he wiste nevere why. Bot al was knowe er that thei wente; For god, which wot here hol entente, 1710 Here hertes bothe anon descloseth. This king unto this maide opposeth, And axeth ferst what was hire name, And wher sche lerned al this game, And of what ken that sche was come. And sche, that hath hise wordes nome, Ansuerth and seith, “My name is Thaise, That was som time wel at aise: In Tharse I was forthdrawe and fed, Ther lerned I, til I was sped, 1720 Of that I can. Mi fader eke I not wher that I scholde him seke; He was a king, men tolde me: Mi Moder dreint was in the See.” Fro point to point al sche him tolde, That sche hath longe in herte holde, And nevere dorste make hir mone Bot only to this lord al one, To whom hire herte can noght hele, Torne it to wo, torne it to wele, 1730 Torne it to good, torne it to harm. And he tho toke hire in his arm, Bot such a joie as he tho made Was nevere sen; thus be thei glade, That sory hadden be toforn. Fro this day forth fortune hath sworn To sette him upward on the whiel; So goth the world, now wo, now wel: This king hath founde newe grace, So that out of his derke place 1740 He goth him up into the liht, And with him cam that swete wiht, His doghter Thaise, and forth anon Thei bothe into the Caban gon Which was ordeigned for the king, And ther he dede of al his thing, And was arraied realy.

And out he cam al openly, Wher Athenagoras he fond, The which was lord of al the lond: 1750 He preith the king to come and se His castell bothe and his cite, And thus thei gon forth alle in fiere, This king, this lord, this maiden diere. This lord tho made hem riche feste With every thing which was honeste, To plese with this worthi king, Ther lacketh him no maner thing: Bot yit for al his noble array Wifles he was into that day, 1760 As he that yit was of yong Age; So fell ther into his corage The lusti wo, the glade peine Of love, which noman restreigne Yit nevere myhte as nou tofore. This lord thenkth al his world forlore, Bot if the king wol don him grace; He waiteth time, he waiteth place, Him thoghte his herte wol tobreke, Til he mai to this maide speke 1770 And to hir fader ek also For mariage: and it fell so, That al was do riht as he thoghte, His pourpos to an ende he broghte, Sche weddeth him as for hire lord; Thus be thei alle of on acord.

Whan al was do riht as thei wolde, The king unto his Sone tolde Of Tharse thilke traiterie, And seide hou in his compaignie 1780 His doghter and himselven eke Schull go vengance forto seke. The Schipes were redy sone, And whan thei sihe it was to done, Withoute lette of eny wente With Seil updrawe forth thei wente Towardes Tharse upon the tyde. Bot he that wot what schal betide, The hihe god, which wolde him kepe, Whan that this king was faste aslepe, 1790 Be nyhtes time he hath him bede To seile into an other stede: To Ephesim he bad him drawe, And as it was that time lawe, He schal do there his sacrifise; And ek he bad in alle wise That in the temple amonges alle His fortune, as it is befalle, Touchende his doghter and his wif He schal beknowe upon his lif. 1800 The king of this Avisioun Hath gret ymaginacioun, What thing it signefie may; And natheles, whan it was day, He bad caste Ancher and abod; And whil that he on Ancher rod, The wynd, which was tofore strange, Upon the point began to change, And torneth thider as it scholde. Tho knew he wel that god it wolde, 1810 And bad the Maister make him yare, Tofor the wynd for he wol fare To Ephesim, and so he dede. And whanne he cam unto the stede Where as he scholde londe, he londeth With al the haste he may, and fondeth To schapen him be such a wise, That he may be the morwe arise And don after the mandement Of him which hath him thider sent. 1820 And in the wise that he thoghte, Upon the morwe so he wroghte; His doghter and his Sone he nom, And forth unto the temple he com With a gret route in compaignie, Hise yiftes forto sacrifie. The citezeins tho herden seie Of such a king that cam to preie Unto Diane the godesse, And left al other besinesse, 1830 Thei comen thider forto se The king and the solempnete.

With worthi knyhtes environed The king himself hath abandoned Into the temple in good entente. The dore is up, and he in wente, Wher as with gret devocioun Of holi contemplacioun Withinne his herte he made his schrifte; And after that a riche yifte 1840 He offreth with gret reverence, And there in open Audience Of hem that stoden thanne aboute, He tolde hem and declareth oute His hap, such as him is befalle, Ther was nothing foryete of alle. His wif, as it was goddes grace, Which was professed in the place, As sche that was Abbesse there, Unto his tale hath leid hire Ere: 1850 Sche knew the vois and the visage, For pure joie as in a rage Sche strawhte unto him al at ones, And fell aswoune upon the stones, Wherof the temple flor was paved. Sche was anon with water laved, Til sche cam to hirself ayein, And thanne sche began to sein: “Ha, blessed be the hihe sonde, That I mai se myn housebonde, 1860 That whilom he and I were on!” The king with that knew hire anon, And tok hire in his Arm and kiste; And al the toun thus sone it wiste. Tho was ther joie manyfold, For every man this tale hath told As for miracle, and were glade, Bot nevere man such joie made As doth the king, which hath his wif. And whan men herde hou that hir lif 1870 Was saved, and be whom it was, Thei wondren alle of such a cas: Thurgh al the Lond aros the speche Of Maister Cerymon the leche And of the cure which he dede. The king himself tho hath him bede, And ek this queene forth with him, That he the toun of Ephesim Wol leve and go wher as thei be, For nevere man of his degre 1880 Hath do to hem so mochel good; And he his profit understod, And granteth with hem forto wende. And thus thei maden there an ende, And token leve and gon to Schipe With al the hole felaschipe.

This king, which nou hath his desir, Seith he wol holde his cours to Tyr. Thei hadden wynd at wille tho, With topseilcole and forth they go, 1890 And striken nevere, til thei come To Tyr, where as thei havene nome, And londen hem with mochel blisse. Tho was ther many a mowth to kisse, Echon welcometh other hom, Bot whan the queen to londe com, And Thaise hir doghter be hir side, The joie which was thilke tyde Ther mai no mannes tunge telle: Thei seiden alle, “Hier comth the welle 1900 Of alle wommannysshe grace.” The king hath take his real place, The queene is into chambre go: Ther was gret feste arraied tho; Whan time was, thei gon to mete, Alle olde sorwes ben foryete, And gladen hem with joies newe: The descoloured pale hewe Is now become a rody cheke, Ther was no merthe forto seke, 1910 Bot every man hath that he wolde.

The king, as he wel couthe and scholde, Makth to his poeple riht good chiere; And after sone, as thou schalt hiere, A parlement he hath sommoned, Wher he his doghter hath coroned Forth with the lord of Mitelene, That on is king, that other queene: And thus the fadres ordinance This lond hath set in governance, 1920 And seide thanne he wolde wende To Tharse, forto make an ende Of that his doghter was betraied. Therof were alle men wel paied, And seide hou it was forto done: The Schipes weren redi sone, And strong pouer with him he tok; Up to the Sky he caste his lok, And syh the wynd was covenable.

Thei hale up Ancher with the cable, 1930 The Seil on hih, the Stiere in honde, And seilen, til thei come alonde At Tharse nyh to the cite; And whan thei wisten it was he, The toun hath don him reverence. He telleth hem the violence, Which the tretour Strangulio And Dionise him hadde do Touchende his dowhter, as yee herde; And whan thei wiste hou that it ferde, 1940 As he which pes and love soghte, Unto the toun this he besoghte, To don him riht in juggement. Anon thei were bothe asent With strengthe of men, and comen sone, And as hem thoghte it was to done, Atteint thei were be the lawe And diemed forto honge and drawe, And brent and with the wynd toblowe, That al the world it myhte knowe: 1950 And upon this condicion The dom in execucion Was put anon withoute faile. And every man hath gret mervaile, Which herde tellen of this chance, And thonketh goddes pourveance, Which doth mercy forth with justice. Slain is the moerdrer and moerdrice Thurgh verray trowthe of rihtwisnesse, And thurgh mercy sauf is simplesse 1960 Of hire whom mercy preserveth; Thus hath he wel that wel deserveth.

Whan al this thing is don and ended, This king, which loved was and frended, A lettre hath, which cam to him Be Schipe fro Pentapolim, Be which the lond hath to him write, That he wolde understonde and wite Hou in good mynde and in good pes Ded is the king Artestrates, 1970 Wherof thei alle of on acord Him preiden, as here liege lord, That he the lettre wel conceive And come his regne to receive, Which god hath yove him and fortune; And thus besoghte the commune Forth with the grete lordes alle. This king sih how it was befalle, Fro Tharse and in prosperite He tok his leve of that Cite 1980 And goth him into Schipe ayein: The wynd was good, the See was plein, Hem nedeth noght a Riff to slake, Til thei Pentapolim have take. The lond, which herde of that tidinge, Was wonder glad of his cominge; He resteth him a day or tuo And tok his conseil to him tho, And sette a time of Parlement, Wher al the lond of on assent 1990 Forth with his wif hath him corouned, Wher alle goode him was fuisouned. Lo, what it is to be wel grounded: For he hath ferst his love founded Honesteliche as forto wedde, Honesteliche his love he spedde And hadde children with his wif, And as him liste he ladde his lif; And in ensample his lif was write, That alle lovers myhten wite 2000 How ate laste it schal be sene Of love what thei wolden mene. For se now on that other side, Antiochus with al his Pride, Which sette his love unkindely, His ende he hadde al sodeinly, Set ayein kinde upon vengance, And for his lust hath his penance.

Lo thus, mi Sone, myht thou liere What is to love in good manere, 2010 And what to love in other wise: The mede arist of the servise; Fortune, thogh sche be noght stable, Yit at som time is favorable To hem that ben of love trewe. Bot certes it is forto rewe To se love ayein kinde falle, For that makth sore a man to falle, As thou myht of tofore rede. Forthi, my Sone, I wolde rede 2020 To lete al other love aweie, Bot if it be thurgh such a weie As love and reson wolde acorde. For elles, if that thou descorde, And take lust as doth a beste, Thi love mai noght ben honeste; For be no skile that I finde Such lust is noght of loves kinde.

Mi fader, hou so that it stonde, Youre tale is herd and understonde, 2030 As thing which worthi is to hiere, Of gret ensample and gret matiere, Wherof, my fader, god you quyte. Bot in this point miself aquite I mai riht wel, that nevere yit I was assoted in my wit, Bot only in that worthi place Wher alle lust and alle grace Is set, if that danger ne were. Bot that is al my moste fere: 2040 I not what ye fortune acompte, Bot what thing danger mai amonte I wot wel, for I have assaied; For whan myn herte is best arraied And I have al my wit thurghsoght Of love to beseche hire oght, For al that evere I skile may, I am concluded with a nay: That o sillable hath overthrowe A thousend wordes on a rowe 2050 Of suche as I best speke can; Thus am I bot a lewed man. Bot, fader, for ye ben a clerk Of love, and this matiere is derk, And I can evere leng the lasse, Bot yit I mai noght let it passe, Youre hole conseil I beseche, That ye me be som weie teche What is my beste, as for an ende.

Mi Sone, unto the trouthe wende 2060 Now wol I for the love of thee, And lete alle othre truffles be. The more that the nede is hyh, The more it nedeth to be slyh To him which hath the nede on honde. I have wel herd and understonde, Mi Sone, al that thou hast me seid, And ek of that thou hast me preid, Nou at this time that I schal As for conclusioun final 2070 Conseile upon thi nede sette: So thenke I finaly to knette This cause, where it is tobroke, And make an ende of that is spoke. For I behihte thee that yifte Ferst whan thou come under my schrifte, That thogh I toward Venus were, Yit spak I suche wordes there, That for the Presthod which I have, Min ordre and min astat to save, 2080 I seide I wolde of myn office To vertu more than to vice Encline, and teche thee mi lore. Forthi to speken overmore Of love, which thee mai availe, Tak love where it mai noght faile: For as of this which thou art inne, Be that thou seist it is a Sinne, And Sinne mai no pris deserve, Withoute pris and who schal serve, 2090 I not what profit myhte availe. Thus folweth it, if thou travaile, Wher thou no profit hast ne pris, Thou art toward thiself unwis: And sett thou myhtest lust atteigne, Of every lust thende is a peine, And every peine is good to fle; So it is wonder thing to se, Why such a thing schal be desired. The more that a Stock is fyred, 2100 The rathere into Aisshe it torneth; The fot which in the weie sporneth Fulofte his heved hath overthrowe; Thus love is blind and can noght knowe Wher that he goth, til he be falle: Forthi, bot if it so befalle With good conseil that he be lad, Him oghte forto ben adrad. For conseil passeth alle thing To him which thenkth to ben a king; 2110 And every man for his partie A kingdom hath to justefie, That is to sein his oghne dom. If he misreule that kingdom, He lest himself, and that is more Than if he loste Schip and Ore And al the worldes good withal: For what man that in special Hath noght himself, he hath noght elles, Nomor the perles than the schelles; 2120 Al is to him of o value: Thogh he hadde at his retenue The wyde world ryht as he wolde, Whan he his herte hath noght withholde Toward himself, al is in vein. And thus, my Sone, I wolde sein, As I seide er, that thou aryse, Er that thou falle in such a wise That thou ne myht thiself rekevere; For love, which that blind was evere, 2130 Makth alle his servantz blinde also. My Sone, and if thou have be so, Yit is it time to withdrawe, And set thin herte under that lawe, The which of reson is governed And noght of will. And to be lerned, Ensamples thou hast many on Of now and ek of time gon, That every lust is bot a while; And who that wole himself beguile, 2140 He may the rathere be deceived. Mi Sone, now thou hast conceived Somwhat of that I wolde mene; Hierafterward it schal be sene If that thou lieve upon mi lore; For I can do to thee nomore Bot teche thee the rihte weie: Now ches if thou wolt live or deie.

Mi fader, so as I have herd Your tale, bot it were ansuerd, 2150 I were mochel forto blame. Mi wo to you is bot a game, That fielen noght of that I fiele; The fielinge of a mannes Hiele Mai noght be likned to the Herte: I mai noght, thogh I wolde, asterte, And ye be fre from al the peine Of love, wherof I me pleigne. It is riht esi to comaunde; The hert which fre goth on the launde 2160 Not of an Oxe what him eileth; It falleth ofte a man merveileth Of that he seth an other fare, Bot if he knewe himself the fare, And felt it as it is in soth, He scholde don riht as he doth, Or elles werse in his degre: For wel I wot, and so do ye, That love hath evere yit ben used, So mot I nedes ben excused. 2170 Bot, fader, if ye wolde thus Unto Cupide and to Venus Be frendlich toward mi querele, So that myn herte were in hele Of love which is in mi briest, I wot wel thanne a betre Prest Was nevere mad to my behove. Bot al the whiles that I hove In noncertein betwen the tuo, And not if I to wel or wo 2180 Schal torne, that is al my drede, So that I not what is to rede. Bot for final conclusion I thenke a Supplicacion With pleine wordes and expresse Wryte unto Venus the goddesse, The which I preie you to bere And bringe ayein a good ansuere. Tho was betwen mi Prest and me Debat and gret perplexete: 2190 Mi resoun understod him wel, And knew it was sothe everydel That he hath seid, bot noght forthi Mi will hath nothing set therby. For techinge of so wis a port Is unto love of no desport; Yit myhte nevere man beholde Reson, wher love was withholde, Thei be noght of o governance. And thus we fellen in distance, 2200 Mi Prest and I, bot I spak faire, And thurgh mi wordes debonaire Thanne ate laste we acorden, So that he seith he wol recorden To speke and stonde upon mi syde To Venus bothe and to Cupide; And bad me wryte what I wolde, And seith me trewly that he scholde Mi lettre bere unto the queene. And I sat doun upon the grene 2210 Fulfilt of loves fantasie, And with the teres of myn ije In stede of enke I gan to wryte The wordes whiche I wolde endite Unto Cupide and to Venus, And in mi lettre I seide thus.