That out of Sol and Luna were ydrawe.
And therfore, said he, "Take heed to my sawe. Let no man besie him this art to seche,
But if that he the entention and speche
Of philosophres understonden can;
And if he do, he is a lewed man.
"For this science and this conning" (quod he)
"Is of the secree of secrees parde."
Also ther was a disciple of Plato,
That on a time said his maister to,
As his book Senior wol bere witnesse,
And this was his demand in sothfastnesse :
"Telle me the name of thilke privee ston: And Plato answerd unto him anon;
"Take the ston that Titanos men name." "Which is that?" quod he.
"Ye, sire, and is it thus?
This is ignotum per ignotius.
What is magnetia, good sire, I pray?” "It is a water that is made, I say, Of the elementes foure," quod Plato.
"Tell me the rote, good sire," quod he tho, "Of that water, if that it be your will."
"Nay, nay," quod Plato, "certain that I n'ill.
The philosophres were sworne everich on,
That they ne shuld discover it unto non,
Ne in no book it write in no manere;
For unto God it is so lefe and dere,
That he wol not that it discovered be,
But wher it liketh to his deitee
Man for to enspire, and eke for to defende
Whom that him liketh; lo, this is the ende."
Than thus conclude I, sin that God of Heven
Ne wol not that the philosophres neven,
How that a man shal come unto this ston,
I rede as for the best to let it gon.
For who so maketh God his adversary,
As for to werken any thing in contrary
Of his will, certes never shal he thrive,
Though that he multiply terme of his live.
And ther a point; for ended is my tale.
God send every good man bote of his bale.
A gentlewoman out of an arbour in a grove, seeth a great company of knights and ladies in a daunce upon the greene grass: the which being ended, they all kneel down, and do honour to the daisie, some to the flower, and some to the leaf. Afterward this gentlewoman learneth by one of these ladies the meaning here. of, which is this: They which honour the flower, a thing fading with every blast, are such as look after beauty and worldly plea. sure. But they that honour the leaf, which abideth with the root, notwithstanding the frosts and winter storms, are they which follow vertue and during qualities, without regard of worldly respects.
WHAN that Phebus his chaire of gold so hie
Had whirled vp the sterry sky aloft,
And in the Boole was entred certainely,
Whan shoures sweet of raine discended oft,
Causing the ground fele times and oft,
Up for to giue many an wholesome aire,
And euery plaine was clothed faire
With new green, and maketh small floures
To springen here and there in field and in mede,
So very good and wholesom be the shoures,
That it renueth that was old and dede,
In winter time and out of euery sede
Springeth the hearbe, so that euery wight
Of this season wexeth glad and light.
And I so glad of the season swete,
Was happed thus vpon a certaine night,
As I lay in my bed, sleepe full vnmete
Was vnto me, but why that I ne might
Rest, I ne wist, for there nas earthly wight
As I suppose had more hertes ease
Than I, for I nad sicknesse nor disease.
Wherefore I meruail greatly of my selfe,
That I so long withouten slepe lay,
And vp I rose thee houres after twelfe,
About the springing of the day,
And on I put my geare and mine array,
And to a pleasaunt groue I gan passe,
Long or the bright Sonne vp risen was.
In which were okes great, streight as a line,
Under the which the grasse so fresh of hew,
Was newly sprong, and an eight foot or nine
Euery tree well fro his fellow grew,
With branches brode, lade with leues new,
That sprongen out ayen the sunne shene,
Some very red, and some a glad light grene.
Which as me thought was right a pleasant sight,
And eke the briddes song for to here,
Would haue rejoyced any earthly wight,
And I that couth not yet in no manere
Heare the nightingale of all the yeare,
Ful busily herkened with herte and with eare,
If I her voice perceiue coud any where.
And at the last a path of little bread
I found, that greatly had not vsed be,
For it forgrowne was with grasse and weed,
That well vnneth a wight might it se:
Though I this path some whider goth parde,
And so I followed, till it me brought
To right a pleasaunt herber well ywrought.
That benched was, and with turfes new
Freshly turued, whereof the grene gras,
So small, so thicke, so short, so fresh of hew,
That most like vnto green well wot I it was,
The hegge also that yede in compas,
And closed in all the greene herbere,
With sicamour was set and eglatere.
Wrethen in fere so well and cunningly,
That euery branch and leafe grew by mesure,
Plaine as a bord, of an height by and by,
I see neuer thing I you ensure,
So well done, for he that tooke the cure
It to make ytrow, did all his peine
To make it passe all tho that men haue seine.
And shapen was this herber roofe and all
As a prety parlour, and also
The hegge as thicke as a castle wall,
That who that list without to stond or go,
Though he would all day prien to and fro,
He should not see if there were any wight
Within or no, but one within well might
Perceiue all tho that yeden there without
In the field that was on euery side
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