Chapter 5

Loke, how a sek man for his hele Takth baldemoine with Canele, And with the Mirre takth the Sucre, Ryht upon such a maner lucre Stant Florent, as in this diete: He drinkth the bitre with the swete, He medleth sorwe with likynge, And liveth, as who seith, deyinge; 1710 His youthe schal be cast aweie Upon such on which as the weie Is old and lothly overal. Bot nede he mot that nede schal: He wolde algate his trowthe holde, As every knyht therto is holde, What happ so evere him is befalle: Thogh sche be the fouleste of alle, Yet to thonour of wommanhiede Him thoghte he scholde taken hiede; 1720 So that for pure gentilesse, As he hire couthe best adresce, In ragges, as sche was totore, He set hire on his hors tofore And forth he takth his weie softe; No wonder thogh he siketh ofte. Bot as an oule fleth be nyhte Out of alle othre briddes syhte, Riht so this knyht on daies brode In clos him hield, and schop his rode 1730 On nyhtes time, til the tyde That he cam there he wolde abide; And prively withoute noise He bringth this foule grete Coise To his Castell in such a wise That noman myhte hire schappe avise, Til sche into the chambre cam: Wher he his prive conseil nam Of suche men as he most troste, And tolde hem that he nedes moste 1740 This beste wedde to his wif, For elles hadde he lost his lif.

The prive wommen were asent, That scholden ben of his assent: Hire ragges thei anon of drawe, And, as it was that time lawe, She hadde bath, sche hadde reste, And was arraied to the beste. Bot with no craft of combes brode Thei myhte hire hore lockes schode, 1750 And sche ne wolde noght be schore For no conseil, and thei therfore, With such atyr as tho was used, Ordeinen that it was excused, And hid so crafteliche aboute, That noman myhte sen hem oute. Bot when sche was fulliche arraied And hire atyr was al assaied, Tho was sche foulere on to se: Bot yit it may non other be, 1760 Thei were wedded in the nyht; So wo begon was nevere knyht As he was thanne of mariage. And sche began to pleie and rage, As who seith, I am wel ynowh; Bot he therof nothing ne lowh, For sche tok thanne chiere on honde And clepeth him hire housebonde, And seith, “My lord, go we to bedde, For I to that entente wedde, 1770 That thou schalt be my worldes blisse:” And profreth him with that to kisse, As sche a lusti Lady were. His body myhte wel be there, Bot as of thoght and of memoire His herte was in purgatoire. Bot yit for strengthe of matrimoine He myhte make non essoine, That he ne mot algates plie To gon to bedde of compaignie: 1780 And whan thei were abedde naked, Withoute slep he was awaked; He torneth on that other side, For that he wolde hise yhen hyde Fro lokynge on that foule wyht. The chambre was al full of lyht, The courtins were of cendal thinne, This newe bryd which lay withinne, Thogh it be noght with his acord, In armes sche beclipte hire lord, 1790 And preide, as he was torned fro, He wolde him torne ayeinward tho; “For now,” sche seith, “we ben bothe on.” And he lay stille as eny ston, Bot evere in on sche spak and preide, And bad him thenke on that he seide, Whan that he tok hire be the hond.

He herde and understod the bond, How he was set to his penance, And as it were a man in trance 1800 He torneth him al sodeinly, And syh a lady lay him by Of eyhtetiene wynter age, Which was the faireste of visage That evere in al this world he syh: And as he wolde have take hire nyh, Sche put hire hand and be his leve Besoghte him that he wolde leve, And seith that forto wynne or lese He mot on of tuo thinges chese, 1810 Wher he wol have hire such on nyht, Or elles upon daies lyht, For he schal noght have bothe tuo. And he began to sorwe tho, In many a wise and caste his thoght, Bot for al that yit cowthe he noght Devise himself which was the beste. And sche, that wolde his hertes reste, Preith that he scholde chese algate, Til ate laste longe and late 1820 He seide: “O ye, my lyves hele, Sey what you list in my querele, I not what ansuere I schal yive: Bot evere whil that I may live, I wol that ye be my maistresse, For I can noght miselve gesse Which is the beste unto my chois. Thus grante I yow myn hole vois, Ches for ous bothen, I you preie; And what as evere that ye seie, 1830 Riht as ye wole so wol I.”

“Mi lord,” sche seide, “grant merci, For of this word that ye now sein, That ye have mad me soverein, Mi destine is overpassed, That nevere hierafter schal be lassed Mi beaute, which that I now have, Til I be take into my grave; Bot nyht and day as I am now I schal alwey be such to yow. 1840 The kinges dowhter of Cizile I am, and fell bot siththe awhile, As I was with my fader late, That my Stepmoder for an hate, Which toward me sche hath begonne, Forschop me, til I hadde wonne The love and sovereinete Of what knyht that in his degre Alle othre passeth of good name: And, as men sein, ye ben the same, 1850 The dede proeveth it is so; Thus am I youres evermo.” Tho was plesance and joye ynowh, Echon with other pleide and lowh; Thei live longe and wel thei ferde, And clerkes that this chance herde Thei writen it in evidence, To teche how that obedience Mai wel fortune a man to love And sette him in his lust above, 1860 As it befell unto this knyht.

Forthi, my Sone, if thou do ryht, Thou schalt unto thi love obeie, And folwe hir will be alle weie.

Min holy fader, so I wile: For ye have told me such a skile Of this ensample now tofore, That I schal evermo therfore Hierafterward myn observance To love and to his obeissance 1870 The betre kepe: and over this Of pride if ther oght elles is, Wherof that I me schryve schal, What thing it is in special, Mi fader, axeth, I you preie.

Now lest, my Sone, and I schal seie: For yit ther is Surquiderie, Which stant with Pride of compaignie; Wherof that thou schalt hiere anon, To knowe if thou have gult or non 1880 Upon the forme as thou schalt hiere: Now understond wel the matiere.

Surquiderie is thilke vice Of Pride, which the thridde office Hath in his Court, and wol noght knowe The trowthe til it overthrowe. Upon his fortune and his grace Comth “Hadde I wist” fulofte aplace; For he doth al his thing be gesse, And voideth alle sikernesse. 1890 Non other conseil good him siemeth Bot such as he himselve diemeth; For in such wise as he compasseth, His wit al one alle othre passeth; And is with pride so thurghsoght, That he alle othre set at noght, And weneth of himselven so, That such as he ther be nomo, So fair, so semly, ne so wis; And thus he wolde bere a pris 1900 Above alle othre, and noght forthi He seith noght ones “grant mercy” To godd, which alle grace sendeth, So that his wittes he despendeth Upon himself, as thogh ther were No godd which myhte availe there: Bot al upon his oghne witt He stant, til he falle in the pitt So ferr that he mai noght arise.

And riht thus in the same wise 1910 This vice upon the cause of love So proudly set the herte above, And doth him pleinly forto wene That he to loven eny qwene Hath worthinesse and sufficance; And so withoute pourveance Fulofte he heweth up so hihe, That chippes fallen in his yhe; And ek ful ofte he weneth this, Ther as he noght beloved is, 1920 To be beloved alther best. Now, Sone, tell what so thee lest Of this that I have told thee hier.

Ha, fader, be noght in a wer: I trowe ther be noman lesse, Of eny maner worthinesse, That halt him lasse worth thanne I To be beloved; and noght forthi I seie in excusinge of me, To alle men that love is fre. 1930 And certes that mai noman werne; For love is of himself so derne, It luteth in a mannes herte: Bot that ne schal me noght asterte, To wene forto be worthi To loven, bot in hir mercy. Bot, Sire, of that ye wolden mene, That I scholde otherwise wene To be beloved thanne I was, I am beknowe as in that cas. 1940

Mi goode Sone, tell me how.

Now lest, and I wol telle yow, Mi goode fader, how it is. Fulofte it hath befalle or this Thurgh hope that was noght certein, Mi wenynge hath be set in vein To triste in thing that halp me noght, Bot onliche of myn oughne thoght. For as it semeth that a belle Lik to the wordes that men telle 1950 Answerth, riht so ne mor ne lesse, To yow, my fader, I confesse, Such will my wit hath overset, That what so hope me behet, Ful many a time I wene it soth, Bot finali no spied it doth. Thus may I tellen, as I can, Wenyng beguileth many a man; So hath it me, riht wel I wot: For if a man wole in a Bot 1960 Which is withoute botme rowe, He moste nedes overthrowe. Riht so wenyng hath ferd be me: For whanne I wende next have be, As I be my wenynge caste, Thanne was I furthest ate laste, And as a foll my bowe unbende, Whan al was failed that I wende. Forthi, my fader, as of this, That my wenynge hath gon amis 1970 Touchende to Surquiderie, Yif me my penance er I die. Bot if ye wolde in eny forme Of this matiere a tale enforme, Which were ayein this vice set, I scholde fare wel the bet.

Mi Sone, in alle maner wise Surquiderie is to despise, Wherof I finde write thus. The proude knyht Capaneus 1980 He was of such Surquiderie, That he thurgh his chivalerie Upon himself so mochel triste, That to the goddes him ne liste In no querele to beseche, Bot seide it was an ydel speche, Which caused was of pure drede, For lack of herte and for no nede. And upon such presumpcioun He hield this proude opinioun, 1990 Til ate laste upon a dai, Aboute Thebes wher he lay, Whan it of Siege was belein, This knyht, as the Croniqes sein, In alle mennes sihte there, Whan he was proudest in his gere, And thoghte how nothing myhte him dere, Ful armed with his schield and spere As he the Cite wolde assaile, Godd tok himselve the bataille 2000 Ayein his Pride, and fro the sky A firy thonder sodeinly He sende, and him to pouldre smot. And thus the Pride which was hot, Whan he most in his strengthe wende, Was brent and lost withouten ende: So that it proeveth wel therfore, The strengthe of man is sone lore, Bot if that he it wel governe. And over this a man mai lerne 2010 That ek fulofte time it grieveth, Whan that a man himself believeth, As thogh it scholde him wel beseme That he alle othre men can deme, And hath foryete his oghne vice. A tale of hem that ben so nyce, And feigne hemself to be so wise, I schal thee telle in such a wise, Wherof thou schalt ensample take That thou no such thing undertake. 2020

I finde upon Surquiderie, How that whilom of Hungarie Be olde daies was a King Wys and honeste in alle thing: And so befell upon a dai, And that was in the Monthe of Maii, As thilke time it was usance, This kyng with noble pourveance Hath for himself his Charr araied, Wher inne he wolde ride amaied 2030 Out of the Cite forto pleie, With lordes and with gret nobleie Of lusti folk that were yonge: Wher some pleide and some songe, And some gon and some ryde, And some prike here hors aside And bridlen hem now in now oute. The kyng his yhe caste aboute, Til he was ate laste war And syh comende ayein his char 2040 Two pilegrins of so gret age, That lich unto a dreie ymage Thei weren pale and fade hewed, And as a bussh which is besnewed, Here berdes weren hore and whyte; Ther was of kinde bot a lite, That thei ne semen fulli dede. Thei comen to the kyng and bede Som of his good par charite; And he with gret humilite 2050 Out of his Char to grounde lepte, And hem in bothe hise armes kepte And keste hem bothe fot and hond Before the lordes of his lond, And yaf hem of his good therto: And whanne he hath this dede do, He goth into his char ayein. Tho was Murmur, tho was desdeign, Tho was compleignte on every side, Thei seiden of here oghne Pride 2060 Eche until othre: “What is this? Oure king hath do this thing amis, So to abesse his realte That every man it myhte se, And humbled him in such a wise To hem that were of non emprise.” Thus was it spoken to and fro Of hem that were with him tho Al prively behinde his bak; Bot to himselven noman spak. 2070 The kinges brother in presence Was thilke time, and gret offence He tok therof, and was the same Above alle othre which most blame Upon his liege lord hath leid, And hath unto the lordes seid, Anon as he mai time finde, Ther schal nothing be left behinde, That he wol speke unto the king.

Now lest what fell upon this thing. 2080 The day was merie and fair ynowh, Echon with othre pleide and lowh, And fellen into tales newe, How that the freisshe floures grewe, And how the grene leves spronge, And how that love among the yonge Began the hertes thanne awake, And every bridd hath chose hire make: And thus the Maies day to thende Thei lede, and hom ayein thei wende. 2090 The king was noght so sone come, That whanne he hadde his chambre nome, His brother ne was redi there, And broghte a tale unto his Ere Of that he dede such a schame In hindringe of his oghne name, Whan he himself so wolde drecche, That to so vil a povere wrecche Him deigneth schewe such simplesce Ayein thastat of his noblesce: 2100 And seith he schal it nomor use, And that he mot himself excuse Toward hise lordes everychon. The king stod stille as eny ston, And to his tale an Ere he leide, And thoghte more than he seide: Bot natheles to that he herde Wel cortaisly the king answerde, And tolde it scholde be amended. And thus whan that her tale is ended, 2110 Al redy was the bord and cloth, The king unto his Souper goth Among the lordes to the halle; And whan thei hadden souped alle, Thei token leve and forth thei go. The king bethoghte himselve tho How he his brother mai chastie, That he thurgh his Surquiderie Tok upon honde to despreise Humilite, which is to preise, 2120 And therupon yaf such conseil Toward his king that was noght heil; Wherof to be the betre lered, He thenkth to maken him afered.

It fell so that in thilke dawe Ther was ordeined be the lawe A trompe with a sterne breth, Which cleped was the Trompe of deth: And in the Court wher the king was A certein man this Trompe of bras 2130 Hath in kepinge, and therof serveth, That whan a lord his deth deserveth, He schal this dredful trompe blowe Tofore his gate, and make it knowe How that the jugement is yove Of deth, which schal noght be foryove. The king, whan it was nyht, anon This man asente and bad him gon To trompen at his brother gate; And he, which mot so don algate, 2140 Goth forth and doth the kynges heste. This lord, which herde of this tempeste That he tofore his gate blew, Tho wiste he be the lawe and knew That he was sikerliche ded: And as of help he wot no red, Bot sende for hise frendes alle And tolde hem how it is befalle. And thei him axe cause why; Bot he the sothe noght forthi 2150 Ne wiste, and ther was sorwe tho: For it stod thilke tyme so, This trompe was of such sentence, That therayein no resistence Thei couthe ordeine be no weie, That he ne mot algate deie, Bot if so that he may pourchace To gete his liege lordes grace. Here wittes therupon thei caste, And ben apointed ate laste. 2160

This lord a worthi ladi hadde Unto his wif, which also dradde Hire lordes deth, and children five Betwen hem two thei hadde alyve, That weren yonge and tendre of age, And of stature and of visage Riht faire and lusty on to se. Tho casten thei that he and sche Forth with here children on the morwe, As thei that were full of sorwe, 2170 Al naked bot of smok and scherte, To tendre with the kynges herte, His grace scholden go to seche And pardoun of the deth beseche. Thus passen thei that wofull nyht, And erly, whan thei sihe it lyht, Thei gon hem forth in such a wise As thou tofore hast herd devise, Al naked bot here schortes one. Thei wepte and made mochel mone, 2180 Here Her hangende aboute here Eres; With sobbinge and with sory teres This lord goth thanne an humble pas, That whilom proud and noble was; Wherof the Cite sore afflyhte, Of hem that sihen thilke syhte: And natheless al openly With such wepinge and with such cri Forth with hise children and his wif He goth to preie for his lif. 2190 Unto the court whan thei be come, And men therinne have hiede nome, Ther was no wiht, if he hem syhe, Fro water mihte kepe his yhe For sorwe which thei maden tho. The king supposeth of this wo, And feigneth as he noght ne wiste; Bot natheles at his upriste Men tolden him how that it ferde: And whan that he this wonder herde, 2200 In haste he goth into the halle, And alle at ones doun thei falle, If eny pite may be founde. The king, which seth hem go to grounde, Hath axed hem what is the fere, Why thei be so despuiled there. His brother seide: “Ha lord, mercy! I wot non other cause why, Bot only that this nyht ful late The trompe of deth was at my gate 2210 In tokne that I scholde deie; Thus be we come forto preie That ye mi worldes deth respite.”

“Ha fol, how thou art forto wyte,” The king unto his brother seith, “That thou art of so litel feith, That only for a trompes soun Hast gon despuiled thurgh the toun, Thou and thi wif in such manere Forth with thi children that ben here, 2220 In sihte of alle men aboute, For that thou seist thou art in doute Of deth, which stant under the lawe Of man, and man it mai withdrawe, So that it mai par chance faile. Now schalt thou noght forthi mervaile That I doun fro my Charr alihte, Whanne I behield tofore my sihte In hem that were of so grete age Min oghne deth thurgh here ymage, 2230 Which god hath set be lawe of kynde, Wherof I mai no bote finde: For wel I wot, such as thei be, Riht such am I in my degree, Of fleissh and blod, and so schal deie. And thus, thogh I that lawe obeie Of which the kinges ben put under, It oghte ben wel lasse wonder Than thou, which art withoute nede For lawe of londe in such a drede, 2240 Which for tacompte is bot a jape, As thing which thou miht overscape. Forthi, mi brother, after this I rede, sithen that so is That thou canst drede a man so sore, Dred god with al thin herte more: For al schal deie and al schal passe, Als wel a Leoun as an asse, Als wel a beggere as a lord, Towardes deth in on acord 2250 Thei schullen stonde.” And in this wise The king hath with hise wordes wise His brother tawht and al foryive.

Forthi, mi Sone, if thou wolt live In vertu, thou most vice eschuie, And with low herte humblesce suie, So that thou be noght surquidous.

Mi fader, I am amorous, Wherof I wolde you beseche That ye me som ensample teche, 2260 Which mihte in loves cause stonde.

Mi Sone, thou schalt understonde, In love and othre thinges alle If that Surquiderie falle, It may to him noght wel betide Which useth thilke vice of Pride, Which torneth wisdom to wenynge And Sothfastnesse into lesynge Thurgh fol ymaginacion. And for thin enformacion, 2270 That thou this vice as I the rede Eschuie schalt, a tale I rede, Which fell whilom be daies olde, So as the clerk Ovide tolde.

Ther was whilom a lordes Sone, Which of his Pride a nyce wone Hath cawht, that worthi to his liche, To sechen al the worldes riche, Ther was no womman forto love. So hihe he sette himselve above 2280 Of stature and of beaute bothe, That him thoghte alle wommen lothe: So was ther no comparisoun As toward his condicioun. This yonge lord Narcizus hihte: No strengthe of love bowe mihte His herte, which is unaffiled; Bot ate laste he was beguiled: For of the goddes pourveance It fell him on a dai par chance, 2290 That he in all his proude fare Unto the forest gan to fare, Amonges othre that ther were To hunte and to desporte him there. And whanne he cam into the place Wher that he wolde make his chace, The houndes weren in a throwe Uncoupled and the hornes blowe: The grete hert anon was founde, Which swifte feet sette upon grounde, 2300 And he with spore in horse side Him hasteth faste forto ride, Til alle men be left behinde. And as he rod, under a linde Beside a roche, as I thee telle, He syh wher sprong a lusty welle: The day was wonder hot withalle, And such a thurst was on him falle, That he moste owther deie or drinke; And doun he lihte and be the brinke 2310 He teide his Hors unto a braunche, And leide him lowe forto staunche His thurst: and as he caste his lok Into the welle and hiede tok, He sih the like of his visage, And wende ther were an ymage Of such a Nimphe as tho was faie, Wherof that love his herte assaie Began, as it was after sene, Of his sotie and made him wene 2320 It were a womman that he syh. The more he cam the welle nyh, The nerr cam sche to him ayein; So wiste he nevere what to sein; For whanne he wepte, he sih hire wepe, And whanne he cride, he tok good kepe, The same word sche cride also: And thus began the newe wo, That whilom was to him so strange; Tho made him love an hard eschange, 2330 To sette his herte and to beginne Thing which he mihte nevere winne. And evere among he gan to loute, And preith that sche to him come oute; And otherwhile he goth a ferr, And otherwhile he draweth nerr, And evere he fond hire in o place. He wepth, he crith, he axeth grace, There as he mihte gete non; So that ayein a Roche of Ston, 2340 As he that knew non other red, He smot himself til he was ded. Wherof the Nimphes of the welles, And othre that ther weren elles Unto the wodes belongende, The body, which was ded ligende, For pure pite that thei have Under the grene thei begrave. And thanne out of his sepulture Ther sprong anon par aventure 2350 Of floures such a wonder syhte, That men ensample take myhte Upon the dedes whiche he dede, As tho was sene in thilke stede; For in the wynter freysshe and faire The floures ben, which is contraire To kynde, and so was the folie Which fell of his Surquiderie.

Thus he, which love hadde in desdeign, Worste of all othre was besein, 2360 And as he sette his pris most hyhe, He was lest worth in loves yhe And most bejaped in his wit: Wherof the remembrance is yit, So that thou myht ensample take, And ek alle othre for his sake.

Mi fader, as touchende of me, This vice I thenke forto fle, Which of his wenynge overtroweth; And nameliche of thing which groweth 2370 In loves cause or wel or wo Yit pryded I me nevere so. Bot wolde god that grace sende, That toward me my lady wende As I towardes hire wene! Mi love scholde so be sene, Ther scholde go no pride a place. Bot I am ferr fro thilke grace, As forto speke of tyme now; So mot I soffre, and preie yow 2380 That ye wole axe on other side If ther be eny point of Pride, Wherof it nedeth to be schrive.

Mi Sone, godd it thee foryive, If thou have eny thing misdo Touchende of this, bot overmo Ther is an other yit of Pride, Which nevere cowthe hise wordes hide, That he ne wole himself avaunte; Ther mai nothing his tunge daunte, 2390 That he ne clappeth as a Belle: Wherof if thou wolt that I telle, It is behovely forto hiere, So that thou myht thi tunge stiere, Toward the world and stonde in grace, Which lacketh ofte in many place To him that can noght sitte stille, Which elles scholde have al his wille.

The vice cleped Avantance With Pride hath take his aqueintance, 2400 So that his oghne pris he lasseth, When he such mesure overpasseth That he his oghne Herald is. That ferst was wel is thanne mis, That was thankworth is thanne blame, And thus the worschipe of his name Thurgh pride of his avantarie He torneth into vilenie. I rede how that this proude vice Hath thilke wynd in his office, 2410 Which thurgh the blastes that he bloweth The mannes fame he overthroweth Of vertu, which scholde elles springe Into the worldes knowlechinge; Bot he fordoth it alto sore. And riht of such a maner lore Ther ben lovers: forthi if thow Art on of hem, tell and sei how. Whan thou hast taken eny thing Of loves yifte, or Nouche or ring, 2420 Or tok upon thee for the cold Som goodly word that thee was told, Or frendly chiere or tokne or lettre, Wherof thin herte was the bettre, Or that sche sende the grietinge, Hast thou for Pride of thi likinge Mad thin avant wher as the liste?