Chapter 7

The king thes thre demandes axeth, And to the knyht this lawe he taxeth, That he schal gon and come ayein The thridde weke, and telle him plein 3110 To every point, what it amonteth. And if so be that he misconteth, To make in his answere a faile, Ther schal non other thing availe, The king seith, bot he schal be ded And lese hise goodes and his hed. The knyht was sori of this thing And wolde excuse him to the king, Bot he ne wolde him noght forbere, And thus the knyht of his ansuere 3120 Goth hom to take avisement: Bot after his entendement The more he caste his wit aboute, The more he stant therof in doute. Tho wiste he wel the kinges herte, That he the deth ne scholde asterte, And such a sorwe hath to him take, That gladschipe he hath al forsake. He thoghte ferst upon his lif, And after that upon his wif, 3130 Upon his children ek also, Of whiche he hadde dowhtres tuo; The yongest of hem hadde of age Fourtiene yer, and of visage Sche was riht fair, and of stature Lich to an hevenely figure, And of manere and goodli speche, Thogh men wolde alle Londes seche, Thei scholden noght have founde hir like. Sche sih hire fader sorwe and sike, 3140 And wiste noght the cause why; So cam sche to him prively, And that was where he made his mone Withinne a Gardin al him one; Upon hire knes sche gan doun falle With humble herte and to him calle, And seide: “O goode fader diere, Why make ye thus hevy chiere, And I wot nothing how it is? And wel ye knowen, fader, this, 3150 What aventure that you felle Ye myhte it saufly to me telle, For I have ofte herd you seid, That ye such trust have on me leid, That to my soster ne my brother, In al this world ne to non other, Ye dorste telle a privite So wel, my fader, as to me. Forthi, my fader, I you preie, Ne casteth noght that herte aweie, 3160 For I am sche that wolde kepe Youre honour.” And with that to wepe Hire yhe mai noght be forbore, Sche wissheth forto ben unbore, Er that hire fader so mistriste To tellen hire of that he wiste: And evere among merci sche cride, That he ne scholde his conseil hide From hire that so wolde him good And was so nyh his fleissh and blod. 3170 So that with wepinge ate laste His chiere upon his child he caste, And sorwfulli to that sche preide He tolde his tale and thus he seide: “The sorwe, dowhter, which I make Is noght al only for my sake, Bot for thee bothe and for you alle: For such a chance is me befalle, That I schal er this thridde day Lese al that evere I lese may, 3180 Mi lif and al my good therto: Therfore it is I sorwe so.” “What is the cause, helas!” quod sche, “Mi fader, that ye scholden be Ded and destruid in such a wise?” And he began the pointz devise, Whiche as the king told him be mowthe, And seid hir pleinly that he cowthe Ansuere unto no point of this. And sche, that hiereth how it is, 3190 Hire conseil yaf and seide tho: “Mi fader, sithen it is so, That ye can se non other weie, Bot that ye moste nedes deie, I wolde preie of you a thing: Let me go with you to the king, And ye schull make him understonde How ye, my wittes forto fonde, Have leid your ansuere upon me; And telleth him, in such degre 3200 Upon my word ye wole abide To lif or deth, what so betide. For yit par chaunce I may pourchace With som good word the kinges grace, Your lif and ek your good to save; For ofte schal a womman have Thing which a man mai noght areche.” The fader herde his dowhter speche, And thoghte ther was resoun inne, And sih his oghne lif to winne 3210 He cowthe don himself no cure; So betre him thoghte in aventure To put his lif and al his good, Than in the maner as it stod His lif in certein forto lese. And thus thenkende he gan to chese To do the conseil of this Maide, And tok the pourpos which sche saide.

The dai was come and forth thei gon, Unto the Court thei come anon, 3220 Wher as the king in juggement Was set and hath this knyht assent. Arraied in hire beste wise This Maiden with hire wordes wise Hire fader ladde be the hond Into the place, wher he fond The king with othre whiche he wolde, And to the king knelende he tolde As he enformed was tofore, And preith the king that he therfore 3230 His dowhtres wordes wolde take, And seith that he wol undertake Upon hire wordes forto stonde. Tho was ther gret merveile on honde, That he, which was so wys a knyht, His lif upon so yong a wyht Besette wolde in jeupartie, And manye it hielden for folie: Bot ate laste natheles The king comandeth ben in pes, 3240 And to this Maide he caste his chiere, And seide he wolde hire tale hiere, He bad hire speke, and sche began:

“Mi liege lord, so as I can,” Quod sche, “the pointz of whiche I herde, Thei schul of reson ben ansuerde.

The ferste I understonde is this, What thing of al the world it is, Which men most helpe and hath lest nede. Mi liege lord, this wolde I rede: 3250 The Erthe it is, which everemo With mannes labour is bego; Als wel in wynter as in Maii The mannes hond doth what he mai To helpe it forth and make it riche, And forthi men it delve and dyche And eren it with strengthe of plowh, Wher it hath of himself ynowh, So that his nede is ate leste. For every man and bridd and beste, 3260 And flour and gras and rote and rinde, And every thing be weie of kynde Schal sterve, and Erthe it schal become; As it was out of Erthe nome, It schal to therthe torne ayein: And thus I mai be resoun sein That Erthe is the most nedeles, And most men helpe it natheles. So that, my lord, touchende of this I have ansuerd hou that it is. 3270

That other point I understod, Which most is worth and most is good, And costeth lest a man to kepe: Mi lord, if ye woll take kepe, I seie it is Humilite, Thurgh which the hihe trinite As for decerte of pure love Unto Marie from above, Of that he knew hire humble entente, His oghne Sone adoun he sente, 3280 Above alle othre and hire he ches For that vertu which bodeth pes: So that I may be resoun calle Humilite most worth of alle. And lest it costeth to maintiene, In al the world as it is sene; For who that hath humblesce on honde, He bringth no werres into londe, For he desireth for the beste To setten every man in reste. 3290 Thus with your hihe reverence Me thenketh that this evidence As to this point is sufficant.

And touchende of the remenant, Which is the thridde of youre axinges, What leste is worth of alle thinges, And costeth most, I telle it, Pride; Which mai noght in the hevene abide, For Lucifer with hem that felle Bar Pride with him into helle. 3300 Ther was Pride of to gret a cost, Whan he for Pride hath hevene lost; And after that in Paradis Adam for Pride loste his pris: In Midelerthe and ek also Pride is the cause of alle wo, That al the world ne may suffise To stanche of Pride the reprise: Pride is the heved of alle Sinne, Which wasteth al and mai noght winne; 3310 Pride is of every mis the pricke, Pride is the werste of alle wicke, And costneth most and lest is worth In place where he hath his forth. Thus have I seid that I wol seie Of myn answere, and to you preie, Mi liege lord, of youre office That ye such grace and such justice Ordeigne for mi fader hiere, That after this, whan men it hiere, 3320 The world therof mai speke good.”

The king, which reson understod And hath al herd how sche hath said, Was inly glad and so wel paid That al his wraththe is overgo: And he began to loke tho Upon this Maiden in the face, In which he fond so mochel grace, That al his pris on hire he leide, In audience and thus he seide: 3330 “Mi faire Maide, wel thee be! Of thin ansuere and ek of thee Me liketh wel, and as thou wilt, Foryive be thi fader gilt. And if thou were of such lignage, That thou to me were of parage, And that thi fader were a Pier, As he is now a Bachilier, So seker as I have a lif, Thou scholdest thanne be my wif. 3340 Bot this I seie natheles, That I wol schape thin encress; What worldes good that thou wolt crave, Axe of my yifte and thou schalt have.” And sche the king with wordes wise Knelende thonketh in this wise: “Mi liege lord, god mot you quite! Mi fader hier hath bot a lite Of warison, and that he wende Hadde al be lost; bot now amende 3350 He mai wel thurgh your noble grace.” With that the king riht in his place Anon forth in that freisshe hete An Erldom, which thanne of eschete Was late falle into his hond, Unto this knyht with rente and lond Hath yove and with his chartre sesed; And thus was all the noise appesed.

This Maiden, which sat on hire knes Tofore the king, hise charitees 3360 Comendeth, and seide overmore: “Mi liege lord, riht now tofore Ye seide, as it is of record, That if my fader were a lord And Pier unto these othre grete, Ye wolden for noght elles lete, That I ne scholde be your wif; And this wot every worthi lif, A kinges word it mot ben holde. Forthi, my lord, if that ye wolde 3370 So gret a charite fulfille, God wot it were wel my wille: For he which was a Bacheler, Mi fader, is now mad a Pier; So whenne as evere that I cam, An Erles dowhter now I am.”

This yonge king, which peised al, Hire beaute and hir wit withal, As he that was with love hent, Anon therto yaf his assent. 3380 He myhte noght the maide asterte, That sche nis ladi of his herte; So that he tok hire to his wif, To holde whyl that he hath lif: And thus the king toward his knyht Acordeth him, as it is riht.

And over this good is to wite, In the Cronique as it is write, This noble king of whom I tolde Of Spaine be tho daies olde 3390 The kingdom hadde in governance, And as the bok makth remembrance, Alphonse was his propre name: The knyht also, if I schal name, Danz Petro hihte, and as men telle, His dowhter wyse Peronelle Was cleped, which was full of grace: And that was sene in thilke place, Wher sche hir fader out of teene Hath broght and mad hirself a qweene, 3400 Of that sche hath so wel desclosed The pointz wherof sche was opposed.

Lo now, my Sone, as thou myht hiere, Of al this thing to my matiere Bot on I take, and that is Pride, To whom no grace mai betide: In hevene he fell out of his stede, And Paradis him was forbede, The goode men in Erthe him hate, So that to helle he mot algate, 3410 Where every vertu schal be weyved And every vice be received. Bot Humblesce is al otherwise, Which most is worth, and no reprise It takth ayein, bot softe and faire, If eny thing stond in contraire, With humble speche it is redresced: Thus was this yonge Maiden blessed, The which I spak of now tofore, Hire fader lif sche gat therfore, 3420 And wan with al the kinges love. Forthi, my Sone, if thou wolt love, It sit thee wel to leve Pride And take Humblesce upon thi side; The more of grace thou schalt gete.

Mi fader, I woll noght foryete Of this that ye have told me hiere, And if that eny such manere Of humble port mai love appaie, Hierafterward I thenke assaie: 3430 Bot now forth over I beseche That ye more of my schrifte seche.

Mi goode Sone, it schal be do: Now herkne and ley an Ere to; For as touchende of Prides fare, Als ferforth as I can declare In cause of vice, in cause of love, That hast thou pleinly herd above, So that ther is nomor to seie Touchende of that; bot other weie 3440 Touchende Envie I thenke telle, Which hath the propre kinde of helle, Withoute cause to misdo Toward himself and othre also, Hierafterward as understonde Thou schalt the spieces, as thei stonde.

Explicit Liber Primus

Incipit Liber Secundus

_Inuidie culpa magis est attrita dolore, Nam sua mens nullo tempore leta manet: Quo gaudent alii, dolet ille, nec vnus amicus Est, cui de puro comoda velle facit. Proximitatis honor sua corda veretur, et omnis Est sibi leticia sic aliena dolor. Hoc etenim vicium quam sepe repugnat amanti, Non sibi, set reliquis, dum fauet ipsa Venus. Est amor ex proprio motu fantasticus, et que Gaudia fert alius, credit obesse sibi._

Now after Pride the secounde Ther is, which many a woful stounde Towardes othre berth aboute Withinne himself and noght withoute; For in his thoght he brenneth evere, Whan that he wot an other levere Or more vertuous than he, Which passeth him in his degre; Therof he takth his maladie: That vice is cleped hot Envie. 10

Forthi, my Sone, if it be so Thou art or hast ben on of tho, As forto speke in loves cas, If evere yit thin herte was Sek of an other mannes hele?

So god avance my querele, Mi fader, ye, a thousend sithe: Whanne I have sen an other blithe Of love, and hadde a goodly chiere, Ethna, which brenneth yer be yere, 20 Was thanne noght so hot as I Of thilke Sor which prively Min hertes thoght withinne brenneth. The Schip which on the wawes renneth, And is forstormed and forblowe, Is noght more peined for a throwe Than I am thanne, whanne I se An other which that passeth me In that fortune of loves yifte. Bot, fader, this I telle in schrifte, 30 That is nowher bot in o place; For who that lese or finde grace In other stede, it mai noght grieve: Bot this ye mai riht wel believe, Toward mi ladi that I serve, Thogh that I wiste forto sterve, Min herte is full of such sotie, That I myself mai noght chastie. Whan I the Court se of Cupide Aproche unto my ladi side 40 Of hem that lusti ben and freisshe,— Thogh it availe hem noght a reisshe, Bot only that thei ben in speche,— My sorwe is thanne noght to seche: Bot whan thei rounen in hire Ere, Than groweth al my moste fere, And namly whan thei talen longe; My sorwes thanne be so stronge Of that I se hem wel at ese, I can noght telle my desese. 50 Bot, Sire, as of my ladi selve, Thogh sche have wowers ten or twelve, For no mistrust I have of hire Me grieveth noght, for certes, Sire, I trowe, in al this world to seche, Nis womman that in dede and speche Woll betre avise hire what sche doth, Ne betre, forto seie a soth, Kepe hire honour ate alle tide, And yit get hire a thank beside. 60 Bot natheles I am beknowe, That whanne I se at eny throwe, Or elles if I mai it hiere, That sche make eny man good chiere, Thogh I therof have noght to done, Mi thought wol entermette him sone. For thogh I be miselve strange, Envie makth myn herte change, That I am sorghfully bestad Of that I se an other glad 70 With hire; bot of other alle, Of love what so mai befalle, Or that he faile or that he spede, Therof take I bot litel heede. Now have I seid, my fader, al As of this point in special, Als ferforthli as I have wist. Now axeth further what you list.

Mi Sone, er I axe eny more, I thenke somdiel for thi lore 80 Telle an ensample of this matiere Touchende Envie, as thou schalt hiere. Write in Civile this I finde: Thogh it be noght the houndes kinde To ete chaf, yit wol he werne An Oxe which comth to the berne, Therof to taken eny fode. And thus, who that it understode, It stant of love in many place: Who that is out of loves grace 90 And mai himselven noght availe, He wolde an other scholde faile; And if he may put eny lette, He doth al that he mai to lette. Wherof I finde, as thou schalt wite, To this pourpos a tale write.

Ther ben of suche mo than twelve, That ben noght able as of hemselve To gete love, and for Envie Upon alle othre thei aspie; 100 And for hem lacketh that thei wolde, Thei kepte that non other scholde Touchende of love his cause spede: Wherof a gret ensample I rede, Which unto this matiere acordeth, As Ovide in his bok recordeth, How Poliphemus whilom wroghte, Whan that he Galathee besoghte Of love, which he mai noght lacche. That made him forto waite and wacche 110 Be alle weies how it ferde, Til ate laste he knew and herde How that an other hadde leve To love there as he mot leve, As forto speke of eny sped: So that he knew non other red, Bot forto wayten upon alle, Til he may se the chance falle That he hire love myhte grieve, Which he himself mai noght achieve. 120 This Galathee, seith the Poete, Above alle othre was unmete Of beaute, that men thanne knewe, And hadde a lusti love and trewe, A Bacheler in his degree, Riht such an other as was sche, On whom sche hath hire herte set, So that it myhte noght be let For yifte ne for no beheste, That sche ne was al at his heste. 130 This yonge knyht Acis was hote, Which hire ayeinward als so hote Al only loveth and nomo. Hierof was Poliphemus wo Thurgh pure Envie, and evere aspide, And waiteth upon every side, Whan he togedre myhte se This yonge Acis with Galathe.

So longe he waiteth to and fro, Til ate laste he fond hem tuo, 140 In prive place wher thei stode To speke and have here wordes goode. The place wher as he hem syh, It was under a banke nyh The grete See, and he above Stod and behield the lusti love Which ech of hem to other made With goodly chiere and wordes glade, That al his herte hath set afyre Of pure Envie: and as a fyre 150 Which fleth out of a myhti bowe, Aweie he fledde for a throwe, As he that was for love wod, Whan that he sih how that it stod. This Polipheme a Geant was; And whan he sih the sothe cas, How Galathee him hath forsake And Acis to hire love take, His herte mai it noght forbere That he ne roreth lich a Bere; 160 And as it were a wilde beste, The whom no reson mihte areste, He ran Ethna the hell aboute, Wher nevere yit the fyr was oute, Fulfild of sorghe and gret desese, That he syh Acis wel at ese. Til ate laste he him bethoghte, As he which al Envie soghte, And torneth to the banke ayein, Wher he with Galathee hath seyn 170 Acis, whom that he thoghte grieve, Thogh he himself mai noght relieve. This Geant with his ruide myht Part of the banke he schof doun riht, The which evene upon Acis fell, So that with fallinge of this hell This Poliphemus Acis slowh, Wherof sche made sorwe ynowh. And as sche fledde fro the londe, Neptunus tok hire into honde 180 And kept hire in so sauf a place Fro Polipheme and his manace, That he with al his false Envie Ne mihte atteigne hir compaignie. This Galathee of whom I speke, That of hirself mai noght be wreke, Withouten eny semblant feigned Sche hath hire loves deth compleigned, And with hire sorwe and with hire wo Sche hath the goddes moeved so, 190 That thei of pite and of grace Have Acis in the same place, Ther he lai ded, into a welle Transformed, as the bokes telle, With freisshe stremes and with cliere, As he whilom with lusti chiere Was freissh his love forto qweme. And with this ruide Polipheme For his Envie and for his hate Thei were wrothe.

And thus algate, 200 Mi Sone, thou myht understonde, That if thou wolt in grace stonde With love, thou most leve Envie: And as thou wolt for thi partie Toward thi love stonde fre, So most thou soffre an other be, What so befalle upon the chaunce: For it is an unwys vengance, Which to non other man is lief, And is unto himselve grief. 210

Mi fader, this ensample is good; Bot how so evere that it stod With Poliphemes love as tho, It schal noght stonde with me so, To worchen eny felonie In love for no such Envie. Forthi if ther oght elles be, Now axeth forth, in what degre It is, and I me schal confesse With schrifte unto youre holinesse. 220

Mi goode Sone, yit ther is A vice revers unto this, Which envious takth his gladnesse Of that he seth the hevinesse Of othre men: for his welfare Is whanne he wot an other care: Of that an other hath a fall, He thenkth himself arist withal. Such is the gladschipe of Envie In worldes thing, and in partie 230 Fulofte times ek also In loves cause it stant riht so. If thou, my Sone, hast joie had, Whan thou an other sihe unglad, Schrif the therof.

Mi fader, yis: I am beknowe unto you this. Of these lovers that loven streyte, And for that point which thei coveite Ben poursuiantz fro yeer to yere In loves Court, whan I may hiere 240 How that thei clymbe upon the whel, And whan thei wene al schal be wel, Thei ben doun throwen ate laste, Thanne am I fedd of that thei faste, And lawhe of that I se hem loure; And thus of that thei brewe soure I drinke swete, and am wel esed Of that I wot thei ben desesed. Bot this which I you telle hiere Is only for my lady diere; 250 That for non other that I knowe Me reccheth noght who overthrowe, Ne who that stonde in love upriht: Bot be he squier, be he knyht, Which to my ladiward poursuieth, The more he lest of that he suieth, The mor me thenketh that I winne, And am the more glad withinne Of that I wot him sorwe endure. For evere upon such aventure 260 It is a confort, as men sein, To him the which is wo besein To sen an other in his peine, So that thei bothe mai compleigne. Wher I miself mai noght availe To sen an other man travaile, I am riht glad if he be let; And thogh I fare noght the bet, His sorwe is to myn herte a game: Whan that I knowe it is the same 270 Which to mi ladi stant enclined, And hath his love noght termined, I am riht joifull in my thoght. If such Envie grieveth oght, As I beknowe me coupable, Ye that be wys and resonable, Mi fader, telleth youre avis.

Mi Sone, Envie into no pris Of such a forme, I understonde, Ne mihte be no resoun stonde 280 For this Envie hath such a kinde, That he wole sette himself behinde To hindre with an othre wyht, And gladly lese his oghne riht To make an other lesen his. And forto knowe how it so is, A tale lich to this matiere I thenke telle, if thou wolt hiere, To schewe proprely the vice Of this Envie and the malice. 290

Of Jupiter this finde I write, How whilom that he wolde wite Upon the pleigntes whiche he herde, Among the men how that it ferde, As of here wrong condicion To do justificacion: And for that cause doun he sente An Angel, which about wente, That he the sothe knowe mai. So it befell upon a dai 300 This Angel, which him scholde enforme, Was clothed in a mannes forme, And overtok, I understonde, Tuo men that wenten over londe, Thurgh whiche he thoghte to aspie His cause, and goth in compaignie. This Angel with hise wordes wise Opposeth hem in sondri wise, Now lowde wordes and now softe, That mad hem to desputen ofte, 310 And ech of hem his reson hadde. And thus with tales he hem ladde With good examinacioun, Til he knew the condicioun, What men thei were bothe tuo; And sih wel ate laste tho, That on of hem was coveitous, And his fela was envious. And thus, whan he hath knowlechinge, Anon he feigneth departinge, 320 And seide he mot algate wende. Bot herkne now what fell at ende: For thanne he made hem understonde That he was there of goddes sonde, And seide hem, for the kindeschipe That thei have don him felaschipe, He wole hem do som grace ayein, And bad that on of hem schal sein What thing him is lievest to crave, And he it schal of yifte have; 330 And over that ek forth withal He seith that other have schal The double of that his felaw axeth; And thus to hem his grace he taxeth.

The coveitous was wonder glad, And to that other man he bad And seith that he ferst axe scholde: For he supposeth that he wolde Make his axinge of worldes good; For thanne he knew wel how it stod, 340 That he himself be double weyhte Schal after take, and thus be sleyhte, Be cause that he wolde winne, He bad his fela ferst beginne. This Envious, thogh it be late, Whan that he syh he mot algate Make his axinge ferst, he thoghte, If he worschipe or profit soghte, It schal be doubled to his fiere: That wolde he chese in no manere. 350 Bot thanne he scheweth what he was Toward Envie, and in this cas Unto this Angel thus he seide And for his yifte this he preide, To make him blind of his on yhe, So that his fela nothing syhe. This word was noght so sone spoke, That his on yhe anon was loke, And his felawh forthwith also Was blind of bothe his yhen tuo. 360 Tho was that other glad ynowh, That on wepte, and that other lowh, He sette his on yhe at no cost, Wherof that other two hath lost.

Of thilke ensample which fell tho, Men tellen now fulofte so, The world empeireth comunly: And yit wot non the cause why; For it acordeth noght to kinde Min oghne harm to seche and finde 370 Of that I schal my brother grieve; It myhte nevere wel achieve.