Foryete, as though it were nought So over glad is my thought. And netheles, the foth to telle, Ayeinward if it so befelle, That I at thilke time figh, On me that she miscaste her eye Or that she lifte nought to loke And I therof good hede toke, Anone into my first estate
I torne and am with that so mate, That ever it is a liche wicke.
And thus min honde ayein the pricke I hurte and have don many a day And go fo forth as I go may
Full ofte biting on my lippe
And make unto my self a whippe,
With whiche in many a chele and hete
My wofull herte is so to bete,
That all my wittes ben unfofte
And I am wrothe, I not how ofte. And all it is malencolie,
Which groweth on the fantasie
Of love, that me woll nought loute. So bere I forth an angry fnoute Full many times in a yere. But fader, now ye fitten here In loves stede, I you befeche, That some enfample ye me teche, Wherof I may my self appese. My fone, for thin hertes ese
Hic ponit confeffor exemplum contra iftos, qui cum vires amoris non funt realiter experti contra alios
amantes malencolica
feveritate ad iracun
I shall fulfille thy praiere,
So that thou might the better lere, What mifchefe that this vice ftereth, Whiche in his anger nought forbereth, Wherof that after him forthenketh, Whan he is fobre, and that he thenketh Upon the folie of his dede.
And of this point a tale I rede.
There was a king, whiche Eolus Was hote, and it befell him thus, That he two children hadde faire, The fone cleped was Machaire, The doughter eke Canace hight. By day bothe and eke by night While they be yonge of comun wone nacem habuit, qui In chambre they to-gider wone, ad pubertatem invi
diam vindicte provo
cantur, et narrat, qua
liter rex Eolus filium
nomine Macharium
et filiam nomine Ca.
cum ab infancia ufque
And as they fhulden pleid hem ofte,
Cupido tandem cum Till they be growen up alofte
ignito jaculo ambo
rum cordis defideria
amorose penetravit,
In the youthe of lusty age,
itaque Canacis na Whan kind affaileth the corage
tre fuo inpregnata With love and doth him for to bowe,
parturit, fuper quo pater intolerabilem juventutis concupifcenciam ignorans nimiaque furoris malencolia preventus dictam filiam cum partu
dolorofiffimo cafu interfici adjudicavit.
That he no reson can allowe, But halt the lawes of nature,
For whom that love hath under cure
As he is blinde him felf, right fo He maketh his client blinde alfo. In fuch maner, as I you telle, As they all day to-gider dwelle, This brother might it nought afterte, That he with all his hole herte
His love And fo it felle hem ate laft,
his fufter cast.
That this Machaire with Canace, Whan they were in a prive place Cupide bad hem first to keffe, And after fhe, whiche is maiftreffe In kinde and techeth every life Withoute lawe pofitife,
Of which she taketh no maner charge, But kepe her lawes all at large, Nature toke hem into lore
And taught hem fo, that overmore, She hath hem in fuch wife daunted, That they were, as who faith, enchaunted. And as the blinde an other ledeth And till they falle nothing dredeth, Right fo they hadde none insight, But as a brid, which woll alight And feeth the mete and nought the nette, Whiche in deceipt of him is fette, These yonge folk no perill figh, But that was liking in her eye.
So that they fell upon the chaunce, Where wit hath lore his remembraunce, So longe they to-gider affemble.
The wombe arofe, and fhe gan And helde her in her chambre close
For drede it fhulde be disclose. And come unto her faders ere,
Wherof the fone had alfo fere,
And feigneth cause for to ride, For longe durft he nought abide In aunter if men wolde fain, That he his fufter hath forlain.
For yet she had it nought beknowe,
Whose was the childe at thilke throwe.
Machaire goth, Canace abit,
The which was nought delivered yit, But right fone after that she was.
Now lift and herken a wofull cas. The fothe which may nought ben hid, Was ate lafte knowe and kid
Unto the king, how that it stood. And whan that he it understood, Anone into malencolie,
As though it were a frenefie, He fell, as he which nothing couthe, How maisterfull love is in youthe. And for he was to love ftraunge He wolde nought his herte chaunge To be benigne and favourable To love, but unmerciable
Betwene the wawe of wode and wroth. Into his doughters chambre he goth And figh the childe was late bore, Wherof he hath his othes fwore, That the it shall full fore abie. And she began mercy to crie Upon her bare knees and praide And to her fader thus she saide:
Have mercy fader, thenke I am
Thy childe, and of thy blood I cam, That I misdede, youth it made And in the floodes bad me wade, Where that I figh no peril tho. But nowe it is befalle fo,
Mercy my fader, do no wreche. And with that worde fhe loft fpeche And fell down fwounend at his fote, As fhe for forwe nedes mote. But his horrible crueltie
There might attempre no pite. Out of her chambre forth he wente All full of wrath in his entente And toke the counfeil in his herte, That she shall nought the deth afterte. And he, whiche is malencolien, Of pacience hath nought lien Wherof his wrath he may reftreigne. And in this wilde wode peine, Whan all his refon was untame, A knight he cleped by his name And toke him as by way of fonde A naked fwerde to bere on honde, And faid him, that he shulde go And telle unto his doughter fo In the maner as he him bade, How she that sharpe fwerdes blade Receive fhulde and do withall, So that she wot whereto she shall.
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