But now forth over I befeche,
That ye more of my fhrifte feche.
My gode fone, it shall be do.
Now herken and lay an ere to,
For as touchend of prides fare
Als ferforth as I can declare
In cause of vice, in cause of love
That haft thou pleinly herde above,
So that there is no more to faie
Touchend of that, but other waie
Touchend envie I thenke telle,
Whiche hath the propre kinde of helle,
Withoute cause to misdo
Toward him self and other alfo
Here afterward as understonde
Thou shalt the spieces, as they stonde.
Incipit Liber Secundus.
Invidie culpa magis eft attrita dolore,
Nam fua mens nullo tempore leta manet.
Quo gaudent alii, dolet ille, nec unus amicus
Eft, cui de puro commoda velle facit.
Proximitatis honor fua corda veretur, et omnis
Eft fibi leticia fic aliena dolor.
Hoc etenim vicium quam fepe repugnat amanti,
Non fibi, fed reliquis, dum favet ipfa Venus.
Eft amor ex proprio motu fantafticus, et que
Gaudia fert aliis credit obeffe fibi.
OW after pride the secounde
There is, which many a wo-
full ftounde,
Towardes other berth aboute
Within him felf and nought withoute.
For in his thought he brenneth ever,
Whan that he wote an other lever
Or more vertuos than he,
Which passeth him in his degre.
Therof he taketh his maladie.
That vice is cleped hot envie.
Forthy my fone, if it be fo,
Thou art or haft ben one of tho,
As for to fpeke in loves cas
If ever yet thin herte was
Seke of an other mannes hele ?
So god avaunce my quarele,
My fader, ye a thousand fithe,
Whan I have sene another blithe
Of love and hadde a goodly chere,
Ethna, which brenneth yere by yere,
Was thanne nought fo hote as I
Of thilke fore which prively
Mine hertes thought withinne brenneth.
The ship, which on the wawes renneth
And is forftormed and forblowe,
Is nought more peined for a throwe
Than I am thanne whan I fe
Another, which that paffeth me
In that fortune of loves yifte.
But fader, this I telle in fhrifte,
That is no where but in o place.
For who that lefe or finde grace
In other stede, it may nought greve.
But this ye may right well beleve,
Toward my lady, that I serve,
Though that I wifte for to fterve,
Min hert is full of fuch foly,
That I my felfe may nought chasty,
Whan I the court fe of Cupide
Approche unto my lady fide
Of hem that lufty ben and freffhe,
Though it availe hem nought a refihe.
But only that they ben of speche,
My forwe is than nought to feche.
But whan they rounen in her ere,
Than groweth all my mofte fere.
And namely whan they talen longe,
My forwes thanne be so stronge,
Of that I fee hem well at efe
I can nought telle my difefe.
But, fire, as of my lady felve,
Though she have wowers, ten or twelve,
For no miftruft I have of her
Me greveth nought, for certes, fir,
I trowe in all this world to feche
Nis woman, that in dede and speche
Woll better avife her what she doth,
Ne better for to faie a fothe
Kepe her honour at alle tide
And yet get her a thank befide.
But netheles I am beknowe,
That whan I fe at any throwe
Or elles if I may it here,
That she make any man good chere,
Though I therof have nought to done,
My thought woll entermete him fone.
For though I be my felven ftraunge
Envie maketh min herte chaunge,
That I am forwefully bestad
Of that I fe another glad
With her, but of other all
Of love what fo may befall,
Or that he faile or that he spede,
Therof take I but litel hede.
Hic ponit confeffor exemplum faltem
contra iftos, qui in
amoris caufa aliorum gaudiis invidentes ne
Nowe have I faid, my fader, all,
As of this point in speciall
As ferforthly as I have wiste.
Now axeth, fader, what you lifte
My fone, er I axe any more
I thenke fomdele for thy lore
Tell an enfample of this matere
Touchend envy, as thou shalt here.
Write in Civile this I finde,
Though it be nought the houndes kinde
To ete chaff, yet woll he werne
An oxe, which cometh to the berne,
Therof to taken any fode.
And thus who that it understode
It stant of love in many a place.
Who that is out of loves grace
And may him felven nought availe,
He wold an other sholde faile.
And if he may put any lette,
He doth al that he
Wherof I finde, as thou fhalt wit,
To this purpos a tale write.
There ben of fuche mo than twelve,
That ben nought able as of hem felve
Το get love, and for none envie
quaquam per hoc fibi Upon all other they aspie. ipfis proficiunt. Et
narrat, qualiter qui- And for hem lacketh that they wolde, dam juvenis miles
nomine Acis, quem They kepte that none other fholde
pulcherrima toto cor- Touchend of love his cause spede, Wherof a great enfample I rede,
de peramavit, cum
ipfi fub quadam rupe
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