Of loves aart yit touchid I no deed;
I cowde nat and eek it was no neede:
Had I a kus I was content ful weel,
Bettre than I wolde han be with the deede:
Ther-on can I but smal, it is no dreede:1
Whan that men speke of it in my presence:
For shame I wexe as reed as is the gleede."
Now wole I torne ageyn to my sentence. 40
Of him that hauntith taverne of custume,
At shorte wordes the profyt is this:
In double wyse his bagge it shal consume,
And make his tonge speke of folk amis;
For in the cuppe seelden fownden is
That any wight his neigheburgh commend-
ith.
Beholde and see what avantage is his,
That God, his freend, and eek himself,
offendith.
And yit my wil was good, if that I mighte,
For lettynge of my manly cowardyse,
That ay of strookes impressid the wighte,
So that I durste medlen in no wyse.
Wher was a gretter maister eek than y,
Or bet aqweyntid at Westmynstre yate,
Among the taverneres namely,
And cookes whan I cam eerly or late?
I pynchid9 nat at hem in myn acate,10
But paied hem as that they axe wolde;
Wherfore I was the welcomere algate,11
And for a verray gentil man y-holde.
And if it happid on the someres day
That I thus at the taverne hadde be,
Whan I departe sholde and go my way
Hoom to the privee seel,12 so wowed me
Heete and unlust and superfluitee
To walke unto the brigge and take a
That nat durste I contrarie hem all three,
But did as that they stired me, God woot.
And in the wyntir, for the way was deep,
Unto the brigge I dressid me also,
And ther the bootmen took upon me
keep,18
For they my riot 14 kneewen fern ago:
With hem was I i-tugged to and fro,
So wel was him that I with wolde fare;
For riot paieth largely everemo;
He styntith nevere til his purs be bare. 80
Othir than maistir' callid was I nevere,
Among this meynee,15 in myn audience.
Me thoghte I was y-maad a man for evere:
So tikelid me that nyce reverence,
That it me made larger of despense
Than that I thoght han been o flaterie!
The guyse of thy traiterous diligence
Is, folk to mescheef haasten and to hie.
8 Which impressed [on me] the weight of strokes.
quibble as to price.
10 purchasing.
11 always. 12 The office of the Privy Seal.
13 paid attention to me.
15 servile throng.
PROBLEMYS of olde likenesse and figures, Whiche proved been fructuous of sentence,2 And hath auctorite grownded in scriptures, By resemblances of nobille apparence, Withe moralites concluding of prudence, Like as the Bibylle rehersithe by writing, How trees somtyme chase3 hemself a kyng.
First in their choise thay named the olive, To reigne amonge hem, Judicum1 dothe expresse,
But he hym dide excuse blyve,"
He myght not forsake his fatnesse,
Ner the figge tree his amorows swettnes,
Ner the vyne his holsom fressh tarage,
Whiche yeveth comforte to al maner age.
Esperus enforced hir corage,1
Toward evyn whan Phebus gan to west,
Amid 2 the braunches to hir avauntage
To syng hir coinplyn and than go to rest;
And at the rysing of the quene Alcest,*
To synge agayne, as was hir due,
Erly ou morowe the day sterre to salue. 70
It was a verray heyenly melodye, Evyne and morowe to here the byrddis songe,
And the soote sugred armonye,
Of uncouthe warblys and tunys drawen on longe,
That al the gardeyne of the noyse rong, Til on a morwe, whan Tytan shone ful clere, The birdd was trapped and kaute with a pantere.
The chorle was gladde that he this birdde hadde take,
Mery of chere, of looke, and of visage;
And in al haste he cast for to make,
Within his house a pratie litelle cage,
And with hir songe to rejoise his corage,
Til at the last the sely birdde abrayed,"
And sobirly unto the chorle she sayde.
'I am now take and stand undir daunger,
Holde straite that I may not fle.
Adieu, my songe and alle notes clere,
Now that I have lost my liberte;
Now am I thralle that somtyme was fre,
And trust while I stand in distresse,
I canne not synge ner make gladnesse.
Song procedethe of joy and of pleasance, And prison causethe dethe and destruccioun;
Ryngyng of fetires makethe no mery sounde,
Or how shuld he be gladde or jocounde Agayne his wylle, that ligthe in chayne bounde?
'What avaylethe it a lyon to be kyng
Of bestes, alle shette in a towre of stone?
Or an egle, undir strayte kepying,
Called also king of fowles everichone?
Fy on lordshippe whan liberte is gone! 110
Answere herto and lat it not asterte,9
Who syngeth merily that syngeth not of
herte?
'But if thou wilte rejoise of my syngyng,
Lat me go flye free from al daunger;
And every day in the mornyng,
I shall repayre unto thi lawrer,
And freshly syng withe lusty notes clere,
Undir thy chambire or afore thyne halle,
Every season whane thou list me calle.
'To be shett up and pynned undir drede, No thing accorde the unto my nature, Thouhe I were fedde with mylke and wastelbrede,10
And soote cruddes 11 browte unto my pasture,
Yet had I lever to do my besy cure,
Herly in the morowe to shrapyn 12 in the
vale,
To fynde my dyner amonge the wormes smale.
'The laborare is gladdare at his ploughe, Herly on morne to fede hym withe bacon, Than som man is that hathe tresour i-noughe,
And of alle deyntes plente and foison,18 1?
And no fredom with his possessioun
To go at large, but as bere to stake 14
To passe his boundis but if he leve take.
'Take this auns were for full conclusion -
To synge in prison thou shalt me not con-
strayne,
Till I have fredom in wodis up and downe, To flien at large on boughes rouhe 15 and
'There is a stone whiche called is jagounce, Of olde engendered withinne myne entrayle,
Whiche of fyne golde peyssethe a gret unce,6
Cytryne of colour, lyke garnettes of entayle,8
Which maketh men victorious in batayle,
And so
ever bere on hym this stone
Is fully assured agayne his mortal foone.
Who hathe this stone in possession,
Shal suffre no povert, ner no indigence, 240
But of al tresour have plente and foysoun,
And every man shal do hym reverence;
And no ennemy shal do hym offence.
1 The antecedent of which is tresoure.
2 poising. 3 ignorance. 4 a kind of gem. 5 weighs. 7 yellow. 8 cut. "Who" is perhaps lost before so.
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