Twelf yeer he regned, as seith Machabee;
Philippes sone of Macedoyne he was,
That first was king in Grece the contree.
O worthy gentil Alisaundre, allas!
That ever sholde fallen swich a cas!
Empoisoned of thyn owene folk thou were;
Thy sy's fortune hath turned into as,
And yit for thee ne weep she never a tere !

Who shal me yeven teres to compleyne
The deeth of gentillesse and of fraunchyse,
That al the world welded in his demeyne,
And yit him thoughte it mighte nat suffyse?
So ful was his corage of heigh empryse.
Allas! who shal me helpe to endyte
False fortune, and poison to despyse,
The whiche two of al this wo I wyte?

DE IULIO CESARE.

3845

3850

(671)

3855

3860

By wisdom, manhede, and by greet labour
Fro humble bed to royal magestee,
Up roos he, Iulius the conquerour,
That wan al thoccident by lond and see,

(681)

By strengthe of hond, or elles by tretee,

3865

And un-to Rome made hem tributarie;
And sitthe of Rome the emperour was he,
Til that fortune wex his adversarie.

O mighty Cesar, that in Thessalye

Ageyn Pompeius, fader thyn in lawe,

That of thorient hadde al the chivalrye

3870 (691)

As fer as that the day biginneth dawe,

Thou thurgh thy knighthode hast hem take and slawe,
Save fewe folk that with Pompeius fledde,
Thurgh which thou puttest al thorient in awe.
Thanke fortune, that so wel thee spedde!

3875

3851. E. Hn. Cm. aas; Cp. Pt. Hl. an aas; Ln. an as.

3852. E. Hn.

3870. MSS. Pompeus,

Cm. omit yit; Hl. has right. 3861. E. Cp. Pt. Ln. omit greet. 3862. E.
Hn. Cm. Hl. humble bed; Pt. Cp. Ln. humblehede.
Pompius.

But now a litel whyl I wol biwaille
This Pompeius, this noble governour

Of Rome, which that fleigh at this bataille ;

I seye, oon of his men, a fals traitour,

His heed of smoot, to winnen him favour

3880 (701)

And cast the place, in whiche he sholde dye
With boydekins, as I shal yow devyse.

(711)

This Iulius to the Capitolie wente
Upon a day, as he was wont to goon,
And in the Capitolie anon him hente

3895

This false Brutus, and his othere foon,

And stikede him with boydekins anoon

With many a wounde, and thus they lete him lye;
But never gronte he at no strook but oon,

Or elles at two, but-if his storie lye.

3900

So manly was this Iulius at herte

(721)

And so wel lovede estaatly honestee,

That, though his deedly woundes sore smerte,
His mantel over his hippes casteth he,

For no man sholde seen his privitee.

And, as he lay on deying in a traunce,
And wiste verraily that deed was he,
Of honestee yit hadde he remembraunce.

3905

[3881. Misnumbered 700 in the Aldine edition.] 3887. So in the MSS.; observe hath in l. 3889. 3904. Cm. castyth; rest caste, cast. on deyinge; Pt. on dyinge; Ln. in deynge; E. Hn. of dyyng.

3906. Cm.

Lucan, to thee this storie I recomende,
And to Sweton, and to Valerie also,
That of this storie wryten word and ende,
How that to thise grete conqueroures two
Fortune was first freend, and sithen fo.
No man ne truste up-on hir favour longe,
But have hir in awayt for ever-mo.
Witnesse on alle thise conqueroures stronge.

CRESUS.

This riche Cresus, whylom king of Lyde,
Of whiche Cresus Cyrus sore him dradde,
Yit was he caught amiddes al his pryde,
And to be brent men to the fyr him ladde.
But swich a reyn doun fro the welkne shadde
That slow the fyr, and made him to escape;
But to be war no grace yet he hadde,
Til fortune on the galwes made him gape.

Whan he escaped was, he can nat stente
For to biginne a newe werre agayn.
He wende wel, for that fortune him sente
Swich hap, that he escaped thurgh the rayn,
That of his foos he mighte nat be slayn;
And eek a sweven up-on a night he mette,
Of which he was so proud and eek so fayn,
That in vengeaunce he al his herte sette.

Up-on a tree he was, as that him thoughte,
Ther Iuppiter him wesh, bothe bak and syde,
And Phebus eek a fair towaille him broughte
To drye him with, and ther-for wex his pryde;
And to his doghter, that stood him bisyde,
Which that he knew in heigh science habounde,
He bad hir telle him what it signifyde,

And she his dreem bigan right thus expounde.

3910. Hl. Valirien; rest Valerius; ed. 1561, Valerie.

(731)

3915

3920

(741)

3925

3930

(751)

3935

3940

3911. The MSS.

have word (for ord); see the note. 3913. E. sitthe; Hl. siththen; Hn.

Cm. siththe a.

3936. Cm. Pt. Ln. wex; rest wax.

1

"The tree,' quod she, 'the galwes is to mene,

(761)

And Iuppiter bitokneth snow and reyn,

And Phebus, with his towaille so clene,

Tho ben the sonne stremes for to seyn;

Thou shalt anhanged be, fader, certeyn;

Reyn shal thee wasshe, and sonne shal thee drye;'
Thus warned she him ful plat and ful pleyn,

His doughter, which that called was Phanye.

Anhanged was Cresus, the proude king,

3945

His royal trone mighte him nat availle.-
Tragedie is noon other maner thing,
Ne can in singing crye ne biwaille,
But for that fortune alwey wol assaille
With unwar strook the regnes that ben proude;
For when men trusteth hir, than wol she faille,
And covere hir brighte face with a cloude.

Explicit Tragedia.

3950 (771)

3955

[See p. 256.

Here stinteth the Knight the Monk of his Tale.

3944. E. bemes; rest stremes.

3947. Pt. Ln. Hl. she; rest omit. 3951. Cm. Tragedy is; so Cp. Pt.; Ln. Tregedrye in; E. Hn. Tragedies; Hl. Tegredis (!). 3953. Cm. Hl. for; rest omit. [3956. Reckoned as 775 in the Aldine edition; but really 776.] After 1. 3956, E. Hn. Cm. have 11. 3565-3652. COLOPHON. Hn. Here is ended the Monkes tale.

From E.

THE PROLOGUE OF THE NONNE

PRESTES TALE.

(T. 14773-14798).

The prologue of the Nonne Preestes Tale.

O!' quod the knight, 'good sir, na-more of this,

That ye

And mochel more; for litel hevinesse

han seyd is right y-nough, y-wis,

Is right y-nough to mochel folk, I gesse.

3960

I seye for me, it is a greet disese

Wher-as men han ben in greet welthe and ese,

To heren of hir sodeyn fal, allas!

And the contrarie is Ioie and greet solas,

As whan a man hath been in povre estaat,
And clymbeth up, and wexeth fortunat,
And ther abydeth in prosperitee,

Swich thing is gladsom, as it thinketh me,
And of swich thing were goodly for to telle.'
'Ye,' quod our hoste, 'by seint Poules belle,
Ye seye right sooth; this monk, he clappeth loude,
He spak how "fortune covered with a cloude'
I noot never what, and als of a "Tragedie
Right now ye herde, and parde! no remedie
It is for to biwaille, ne compleyne

That that is doon, and als it is a peyne,

3965 (10)

3970

3975

(20)

As ye han seyd, to here of hevinesse.

Sir monk, na-more of this, so god yow blesse !

Your tale anoyeth al this companye;

Swich talking is nat worth a boterflye;

3980

For ther-in is ther no desport ne game.

Wherfor, sir Monk, or dan Piers by your name,

3982. Pt. or; Hn. o; rest omit.