Part 3

Before the lawe, in a tumblyng barge The people sayled, wythout parfitnes, Throughe the worlde all about at large; They hadde none ordre nor no stedfastnes, Tyll rethoricians founde justyce doubtles, Ordeynyng kynges, of ryght hye dygnite, Of all comyns to have the soverainte;

The barge to stere, wyth lawe and justice, Over the waves of thys lyfe transitory, To direct wronges, and also prejudice. And tho that wyl resyst a contrarye Agaynst theyr kynge, by justice openly, For theyr rebellion and evyll treason, Shall suffer death by ryght and reason.

O what laude, glory, and greate honoure, Unto these poetes shall be notefyed, The whiche dystylled aromatyke lycoure Clensynge our syght wyth ordre puryfyed; Whose famous draughtes so exemplyfyed Set us in ordre, grace, and governaunce, To lyve dyrectly, without encombraunce.

But many one, the whiche is rude and dull, Wyll dyspice theyr warke for lacke of connynge: All in vaine they do so hayle and pull, Whan they therof lacke understandinge, They grope over where is no felynge; So dull they are, that they can not fynde This ryall arte for to perceyve in mynde.

CAP. XI. OF ELOCUTION, THE THIRDE PARTE OF RETHORYKE, WITH COLOURYNG OF SENTENCES.

And than the iii. parte is Elocusyon, Whan Invencion hath the purpose wrought, And set it in ordre by Disposicion. Without this thyrde parte it vayleth ryght nought, Though it be founde and in ordre brought, Yet Elocusion with the powre of Mercury, The mater exorneth right well facundyously

In fewe wordes, swete and sentencious, Depaynted with golde harde in construction, To the artyke eres swete and dylycious The golden rethoryke is good refeccion, And to the reder ryght consolacion; As we do golde frome copper purifye So that Elocucyon doth ryght well claryfy.

The dulcet speche from the langage rude, Tellynge the tale in termes eloquent, The barbary tongue it doth ferre exclude, Electynge wordes whiche are expedyent, In Latyn or in Englyshe, after the entent Encensyng out the aromatyke fume, Our langage rude to exyle and consume.

But what avayleth evermore to sowe The precyous stones amonge gruntynge hogges? Draffe unto them is more meter I trowe. Let an hare and swyne be amonge curre dogges; Though to the hares were tyed grete clogges, The gentyll beast they wyll regarde nothyng, But to the swyne take course of rennyng.

To cloke the sentence under mysty figures, By many colours as I make relacyon, As the olde poetes covered theyr scryptures, Of which the fyrste is dystrybucyon; That to the evyll, for theyr abusyon, Doth gyve payne, and, to the worthy, Laude and prayse, them for to magnyfy.

Of beste or byrd they take a symylytude Of the condycyon lyke to the party, Feble, fayre, or yet of fortytude; And under colour of this beste, pryvely The morall sense they cloke full subtyly, In prayse or dysprayse, as it is reasonable: Of whose faynyng fyrst rose the fable.

Concludyng reason gretely profitable; Who that theyr fables can well moralyse, The fruytfull sentences are delectable, Though that the ficcion they doo so devyse Under the colour the trouth doth aryse, Concludyng reason, rychesse, and connyng, Pleasure, example, and also lernyng.

They fayned no fable without reason, For reasonable is al theyr moralitie, And upon reason was theyr conclusion, That the comon wyt, by possibilitie, Maye well a judge the perfyt veritie Of theyr sentence for reason openly To the comon wyt it doth so notify.

Rychesse.

Theyr fruitfull sentence was grete rychesse, The whych ryght surely they myght well domyne, For lordshyp, welth, and also noblesse, The chaunce of fortune can some determyne. But what for this? she can not declyne The noble science, whiche, after poverte, Maye bryng a man agayne to dignitie.

Scyence.

Theyr sentence is connyng, as appereth well, For by conning theyr arte doth engendre, And wythout connyng we knowe never a dele, Of theyr sentence, but may sone surrendre A true tale, that myght to us rendre Grete pleasure, if we were intelligible Of theyr connyng nothyng impossible.

Pleasure.

O what pleasure to the intelligent It is to knowe and have perceyveraunce Of theyr connyng, so much expedient, And therof to have good utteraunce! Redyng newe thynges of so grete pleasaunce, Fedyng the mynd wyth foode insaciate, The tales newe they are so delicate.

Example.

In an example, with a mysty cloud Of covert lykenesse, the poetes do wryte; And underneth the trouth doth so shroude, Both good and yll, as they lyst acquyte, With similitude they dyd so well endyte, As I here after shall the trouth sone shew, Of all theyr mysty and theyr fatall dewe.

The poetes fayne how that kyng Athlas Heaven should bere upon his shoulders hye; Because in connyng he dyd all other pas, Especially in the hygh astronomye: Of the vi. planettes he knewe so perfytly The operacions, how they were domified; For whych poetes hym so exemplyfied.

And in lyke wyse, unto the Sagittary They feyne the Centures to be of lykenesse, As halfe man and halfe horse truely; Because Mylyzyus wyth hys worthynesse Dyd fyrst attame and breke the wyldenes Of the riall stedes, and ryght swyftly Hys men and he rode on them surely.

And also Pluto, somtyme kynge of hell; A cyte of Grece, standyng in Thessayle, Betwene grete rockes, as the boke doth tell, Wherin were people wythout any fayle, Huge, fyerse, and strong in battayle, Tyrauntes, theves, replete with treason; Wherfore poetes, by true comparison,

Unto the devylles, blacke and tedious, Dyd them resemble, in terrible fygure, For theyr mysselyvyng so foule and vycyous, As to thys daye it doth appere in ure Of Cerebus the defloured pycture, The porter of hell, wyth thre heades ugly, Lyke an horrible gyaunt fyrce and wonderly:

Because alway hys customed tyranny Was elevate in herte by hygh presumpcion, Thynkyng hym selfe most strong and myghty; And secondly, he was destruction Of many ladies by yll compulcion; And thyrdly, his desyre insaciable Was to get ryches full innumerable.

Thus, for these thre vyces abhominable They made hym wyth thre hedes serpentyne, And like a feend his body semblable, For his pryde, avaryce, and also rapyne. The morall cense can soone enlumyne The fatall pycture to be exuberaunt, And to our syght clere, and not variaunte.

Also rehersed the cronicles of Spayne, How redoubted Hercules by puyssaunce Fought with an ydre, ryght grete certayne, Having seven heades of full grete myschaunce; For whan that he wyth all hys valiaunce Had stryken of an head, ryght shortly, Another anon arose ryght sodaynly.

Seven sophyms full hard and fallacyous Thys ydre used in preposicion Unto the people, and was full rigorious To devoure them, where lacked responsion; And whan one reason had conclusion, Another reason than incontinent Began agayne wyth subtyll argument.

For whych cause the poetes covertly With vii. heades doth thys ydre depaynt, For these vii. sophyms full ryght closely; But of rude people the wyttes are so faynt, That wyth theyr connyng they can not acquaynt, But who that lyst theyr scyence to lerne, Their obscure fygures he shall well decerne.

O redolent well of famous poetry, O clere fountayne replete wyth swetenes, Reflerynge out the dulcet delicacy Of iiii. ryvers in mervaylous wydenesse, Fayrer than Tygrys or yet Eufrates; For the fyrst ryver is Understandyng; The seconde ryver Close-concluding;

The thyrd ryver is called Novelry; The fourth ryver is called Carbuncles, Amyddes of whom the toure is so goodly Of Vyrgyll standeth, most solacious, Where he is entered in stones precious; By thys fayre toure, in a goodly grene, Thys well doth spryng both bryght and sheen.

To understandyng these iiii. accident: Doctryne, perceyveraunce, and exercyse, And also therto is equypolent Evermore the perfyt practyse, For fyrst doctryne in all goodly wyse The perceyveraunt trowthe in hys bote of wyll In understandyng for to knowe good from yll.

So famous poetes did us endoctrine Of the ryght way for to be intellectyfe; Theyr fables they dyd ryght so ymagyne, That by example we may voyde the stryfe, And wythout myschefe for to lede our lyfe, By the advertence of theyr storyes olde, The fruit wherof we may full well beholde

Depaynted on aras, how in antiquitie, Dystroyed was the grete citie of Troye, For a lytell cause, grounded on vanitie, To mortall ruyn they tourned theyr joye. Theyr understandyng they dyd than occupy, Nothyng prepensyng how they dyd prepare To scourge them selfe and bryng them in a snare.

Who is opprest with a lytell wrong, Revengyng it he may it soone encrease; For better it is for to suffer among An injury, as for to keepe the peace, Than to begyne whych he shall never cease. Warre ones begon, it is hard to know Who shall abyde and who shall overthrowe.

The hygh power, honour, and noblenes, Of the myghty Romaynes, to whose excellence All the wyde worlde so muche of gretenes Unto theyr empyre was in obedience, Suche was theyr famous porte and preemynence, Tyll within themselfe there was a contraversy Makyng them lese theyr worthy sygneoury.

It is ever the grounde of sapience, Before that thou accomplysh outwardly, For to revolve understandyng and prepence All in thy selfe full often inwardly, The begynnyng and the myddle certaynly Wyth the ende, or thou put it in ure, And werke wyth councell that thou mayst be sure.

And who that so doth shall never repent, For his dede is founded on a perfyt grounde, And for to fall it hath none impediment, Wyth surenes it is so hygh-walled rounde. In welth and ryches it must needes habound, On every syde it hath suche ordinaunce That nothynge can do it anoyaunce.

Thus the poetes conclude full closely Their fruitfull problemes for reformacion, To make us lerne to lyve directly, Theyr good entent and true construccion, Shewyng to us the whole affeccion Of the way of vertue, welth, and stablenes, And to shut the gate of myschevous entres.

And evermore they are ymaginatyfe, Tales newe from daye to daye to fayne, The erryng people, that are retractif, As to the ryght way to bryng them agayne: And who that lyst their sentence retayne, It shall hym prouffyt yf he wyll apply To doo therafter ful conveniently.

Carbuncles in the most derke nyght Dothe shyne fayre wyth clere radiant beames, Exylyng derkenes wyth his rayes lyght; And so these poetes, with theyr golden streames, Devoyde our rudenes wyth grete fyry lemes; Theyr centencious verses are refulgent Encensyng out the odour redolent.

And is theyr worke also extynguyshible? Nay, truely, for it doth shyne ryght cleere Thrugh cloudes derke unto the odyble, To whom truely it may nothyng appeere Where connyng fayleth, the scyence so deere Ignoraunce hateth wyth fervent envy, And unto connyng is mortall ennemy.

O ygnoraunce, wyth slouth so opprest, Open thy curtayne, so ryght dymme and derke, And evermore remembre the behest Of thy labour to understande thy werke, Of many a noble and ryght famous clerke. Fy upon slouth, the nourysher of vyce, Whych unto youth doth often prejudice.

Who in youth lyst nothyng to lerne, He wyl repent hym often in hys age, That he the connynge can nothynge decerne; Therfore now youth, with lusty courage, Rule thy fleshe and thy slouth aswage, And in thy youth the scyence engender That in thyne age it may the worship render.

Connyng is lyght and also pleasaunt, A gentyll burden wythout grevousnes, Unto hym that is ryght well applyaunt For to bere it wyth al his besenes; He shal attaste the well of frutefulnes, Which Vyrgyl claryfied, and also Tullyus, Wyth Latyn pure, swete, and delicyous.

From whense my mayster Lydgate veryfyde The depured rethoryke in Englysh language; To make our tongue so clerely puryfyed, That the vyle termes should nothing arage As like a pye to chatter in a cage, But for to speke wyth rethoryke formally, In the good order, wythouten vylany.

And who his bokes lyst to here or se, In them he shall fynd elocucyon, With as good order as any may be, Kepyng ful close the moralyzacyon Of the trouth of his great intencyon, Whose name is regestred in remembraunce For to endure by longe contynuaunce.

Nowe after this, for to make relacyon Of famous rethoryke so in this party, As to the fourth part, Pronouncyacyon, I shal it shew anone ryght openly, Wyth many braunches of it sykerly; And how it taketh the hole effect In every place, degre, and aspecte.

CAP. XII. OF PRONUNCIATION, THE IV. PART OF RETHORIKE.

Whan the matter is founde by invencyon, Be it mery or yet of grete sadnes, Sette in a place by the disposycyon, And by elocucyons famous clerenes Exornate well and redy to expres, Then pronouncyacyon, wyth chere and countenance, Convenyently must make the utteraunce.

Wyth humble voyce and also moderate, Accordynge as by hym is audyence, And if there be a ryght hye estate, Then under honour and obedyence Reasonably done unto his excellence, Pronouncyng his matter so facundious, In all due maner to be centencyous.

For though a matter be never so good, Yf it be tolde wyth tongue of barbary, In rude maner wythout the discrete mode, It is distourbance to a hole company For to se them so rude and boystously Demeane them selfe, utterynge the sentence Wythout good maner or yet intellygence.

It is a thinge ryght greatly convenable To pronounce the matter as it is convenient, And to the herers ryght delectable, Whan the utterer, wythout impediment, Wyth ryght good maner, countenaunce, and entent Dothe his tale unto them tretably, Kepynge his maner and voyce full moderately.

This is the costome that the poetes use, To tel theyr tale with al due circumstance, The vylayne courage they do much refuse That is boystous and rude of governaunce, And evermore they do to them avaunce Nurture, maner, and al gentylnes. In their behavyng wyth all semelynes.

And thus the gentyl rethoricyan, Through the labour of his ryal clergy, The famous nurture originally began Oppressynge our rudenes and our foly, And for to governe us ryght prudently, The good maner encreaseth dignitie, And the rudenes also iniquitie.

The famous poete who so lyst to here, To tell this tale it is solacyous, Beholdyng hys maners and also hys chere After the maner be it sad or joyous. Yf it be sad, his chere is dolorus, As in bewaylyng a woful tragedy That worthy is to be in memory.

And if the matter be joyfull and glad, Lyke countenaunce outwardly they make; But moderacyon in theyr myndes is had, So that outrage may them not overtake. I can not wryte to muche for theyr sake, Them to laude, for my tyme is shorte And the matter longe which I must reporte.

CAP. XIII. OF MEMORY, THE V. PART OF RETHORYKE.

And the v. parte is than memoratyfe, The whiche the perfyte mynystracyon Ordinately causeth to be retentyfe, Dryving the tale to good conclusyon; For it behoveth to have respeccyon Unto the tale, and the veray grounde And on what ymage he his matter found.

If to the oratour many a sundry tale, One after other, treatably be tolde, Than sundry ymages in his closed male Eche for a mater he doth than well holde, Lyke to the tale he doth than so beholde, And inwarde a recapitulacyon, Of eche ymage the moralazacyon.

Whiche be the tales he grounded pryvely Upon these ymages significacyon, And whan tyme is for him to specify All his tales by demonstracion, In due order, maner and reason, Than eche ymage inwarde dyrectly The oratour doth take full properly.

So is enprynted in his propre mynde Every tale wyth hole resemblaunce. By this ymage he doth his mater fynde, Eche after other wythouten varyaunce. Who to this arte wyl gyve attendaunce, As therof to knowe the perfytenes, In the poetes scole he must have intres.

Than shal he knowe, by perfyte study, The memorial arte of rethoryke defuse, It shal to him so wel exemplefy, If that him lyst, the scyence to use; Though at the fyrste it be to hym obtuse, With exercyse he shal it well augment, Under cloudes derke and termes eloquent.

But nowadayes the synne of avaryce Exyleth the mynde and the hole delyght, To coveyt connyng, which is gret prejudice, For insacyatly so blynded is theyr syght Wyth the sylver and the golde so bryght, They nothing thynke on fortune varable, Whyche al theyr ryches shal make transmutable.

The olde sawes they ryght clene abject, Whych for our lernyng the poetes dyd wryte; With avaryce they arose so sore infect, They take no hede nothyng they wryte, Whyche morally dyd so nobly endyte, Reprovyng vyce, praysyng the vertue, Whiche idelnes dyd evermore eschewe.

Nowe wyl I cease of lusty rethoryke; I may not tary, for my tyme is short; For I must procede, and shew of Arismetrik With divers nombres which I must reporte. Hope inwardly doth me wel comforte, To brynge my boke unto a fynyshment, Of al my matter and my true entent.

CAP. XIV. A COMMENDATION OF GOWER, CHAUCER, AND LYDGATE.

O thoughtful herte, tombled all aboute Upon the se of stormy ignoraunce, For to sayle forthe thou arte in grete doute, Over the waves of grete encombraunce; Wythout ony comforte, saufe of esperaunce, Whiche the exhorteth hardely to sayle Unto thy purpose wyth diligent travayle.

Afrycus, Auster bloweth frowardly, Towarde the lande and habitacyon Of thy wel faverde and moost fayre lady, For whose sake and delectacyon Thou hast take this occupacyon, Principally ryght well to attayne Her swete rewarde for thy besy payne.

O pensyfe herte, in the stormy pery Mercury northwest thou mayst se appere, After tempest to glad thyne emespery; Hoyse up thy sayle, for thou must drawe nere Towarde the ende of thy purpose so clere, Remembre the of the trace and daunce Of poetes olde wyth all the purveyaunce.

As morall Gower, whose sentencyous dewe Adowne reflayreth with fayre golden bemes, And after Chaucers all abrode doth shewe, Our vyces to clense; his depared stremes Kyndlynge our hertes wyth the fyry lemes Of moral vertue, as is probable In all hys bokes so swete and profytable.

The boke of fame, which is sentencyous, He drewe hym selfe on hys own invencyon; And than the tragidyes so pytous Of the xix. ladyes, was his translacyon; And upon hys ymaginacyon He made also the tales of Caunterbury; Some vertuous, and some glad and mery.

And of Troylus the pytous dolour For his lady Cresyde, full of doublenes, He did bewayle ful well the langoure, Of all hys love and grete unhappines. And many other bokes doubtles He dyd compyle, whose godly name In printed bokes doth remayne in fame.

And, after him, my mayster Lydgate, The monke of Bury, dyd hym wel apply Both to contryve and eke to translate; And of vertue ever in especyally, For he dyd compyle than full ryally Of our blessed lady the conversacion, Saint Edmunde's life martred with treson.

Of the fall of prynces, ryght wofully He did endyte in all piteous wyse, Folowynge his auctoure Bocas rufully; A ryght greate boke he did truly compryse, A good ensample for us to dispyse This worlde, so ful of mutabilyte, In whiche no man can have a certente.

And thre reasons ryght greatly profytable Under coloure he cloked craftely; And of the chorle he made the fable That shutte the byrde in a cage so closely, The pamflete sheweth it expressely; He fayned also the courte of Sapyence, And translated wyth al his dylygence

The grete boke of the last destruccyon Of the cyte of Troye, whylome so famous, How for woman was the confusyon; And betwene vertue and the lyfe vycyous Of goddes and goddes, a boke solacyous He did compyle, and the tyme to passe, Of love he made the bryght temple of glasse.

Were not these thre gretly to commende, Whyche them applyed such bokes to contryve, Whose famous draughtes no man can amende? The synne of slouth they dyd from them dryve, After theyr death for to abyde on lyve In worthy fame by many a nacyon, Their bokes theyr actes do make relacyon.

O mayster Lydgate, the most dulcet sprynge Of famous rethoryke, wyth balade ryall, The chefe orygynal of my lernyng, What vayleth it on you for to call Me for to ayde, now in especiall; Sythen your body is now wrapte in chest, I pray God to gyve your soule good rest.

O what losse is it of suche a one! It is to grete truely me for to tell; Sythen the tyme that his lyfe was gone, In al this realme his pere did not dwell; Above al other he did so excell, None sith his time in arte wolde succede, After their death to have fame for their mede.

But many a one is ryght well experte In this connyng, but upon auctoryte, They fayne no fables pleasaunt and covert, But spende theyr time in vaynful vanyte, Makynge balades of fervent amyte. As gestes and tryfles wythout frutefulnes; Thus al in vayne they spende their besynes.

I, lytell or nought expert in poetry, Of my mayster Lydgate wyll folowe the trace, As evermore so his name to magnyfy Wyth suche lytle bokes, by Goddes grace, If in this worlde I may have the space; The lytell connyng that his grace me sente In tyme amonge in suche wyse shall be spente.

And yet nothinge upon presumpcyon My mayster Lydgate I wyll not envy, But all onely is mine entencyon With suche labour my selfe to occupy; As whyte by blacke doth shyne more clerely, So shal theyr matters appeare more pleasaunt Besyde my draughtes rude and ignoraunt.

CAP. XV. OF ARSMETRIKE.

Now in my boke ferder to procede; To a chambre I went, replete wyth rychesse, Where sat Arysmatryke in a golden wede, Lyke a lady pure and of great worthynes. The walles about dyd full well expres, With golde depaynted, every perfyte nombre, To adde, detraye, and to devyde asonder.

The rofe was paynted with golden beames, The wyndowes cristall clerely claryfyde, The golden rayes and depured streames Of radyant Phebus that was puryfyde Right in the Bull, that tyme so domysyde, Through windowes was resplendyshaunt About the chambre fayre and radyaunt.

I kneled downe right soone on my kne, And to her I sayd: O lady marveylous, I right humbly beseche your majeste Your arte to shewe me so facundyous, Whyche is defuse and right fallacyous; But I shall so apply myne exercyse, That the vary trouth I shall well devyse.

My scyence, said she, is right necessary, And in the myddes of the scyences all It is now sette right well and parfytely; For unto them it is so specyall, Nombrynge so theyr werkes in generall, Wythout me they had no parfytenes, I must them nombre alwayes doubteles.

Without nombre is no maner of thynge, That in our sight we may well se; For God made all the begynnynge In nombre perfyte well in certaynte, Who knewe arsmetryke in every degre, All maner nombre in his minde were had, Bothe to detraye and to devyde and adde.

But who wyl knowe all the experience, It behoveth hym to have great lernynge In many thinges, wyth true intelligence, Or that he can have perfyte rekenynge In every nombre by expert connynge. To reherse in Englysshe more of this science, It were foly and the great neclygence.