God. A, quod Melibee, now see I wel, that ye loven not min honour, ne my worshipe. Ye knowen wel that min adversaries han begonne this debat and brige by hir outrage, and ye see wel, that they ne requeren ne prayen me not of pees, ne they axen not to be reconciled; wol ye than that I go and meke me, and obeye me to hem, and crie hem mercie? Forsoth that were not my worshipe for right as men sayn, that overgret homlinesse engendreth dispreising, so fareth it by to gret humilitee or mekenesse.

:

Than began dame Prudence to make semblaunt of wrathe, and sayde: Certes, Sire, (sauf your grace) I love youre honour and youre profite, as I do min owen, and ever have don; ye, ne non other seyn never the contrary: and if I had sayde, that ye shulde han purchased the pees and the reconciliation, I ne hadde not muchel mistake me, ne sayde amis. For the Wise man sayth: The dissention beginneth by another man, and the reconciling beginneth by thyself. And the Prophete saith Flee shrewednesse and do goodnesse; seke pees and folwe it, in as muchel as in thee is. Yet say I not, that ye shuln rather pursue to youre adversaries for pees, than they shuln to you: for I know wel that ye ben so hard-herted, that ye wol do nothing for me; and Salomon sayth: he that hath over hard an herte, atte laste he shal mishappe and mistide.

Whan Melibee had herd dame Prudence make semblaunt of wrath, he sayde in this wise. Dame, I pray you that ye be not displesed of thinges that I say, for I knowe wel that I am angry and wroth, and that is no wonder; and they that ben wroth, woten not wel what they don, ne what they sayn. Therfore the Prophete sayth, that troubled eyen han no clere sighte. But sayth and conseilleth me as you liketh, for I am redy to do right as ye wol desire. And if ye repreve me of my folie, I am the more holden to love you and to preise you. For Salomon saith, that he that repreveth him that doth folie, he shal find greter grace, than he that deceiveth him by swete wordes.

Than sayde Dame Prudence; I make no semblaunt of wrath ne of anger, but for youre grete profite. For Salomon saith: he is more worth, that repreveth or chideth a fool for his folie, shewing him semblaunt of wrath, than he that supporteth him and preiseth him in his misdoing, and laugheth at his folie. And this same Salomon saith afterward, that by the sorweful visage of a man, that is to sayn, by the sory and hevy countenance of a man, the fool correcteth and amendeth himself.

Than said Melibee; I shal not conne answere unto so many faire resons as ye putten to me and shewen sayth shortly youre will and youre conseil, and I am al redy to performe and fulfille it.

Than Dame Prudence discovered all hire will unto him and saide: I conseille you, quod she, above alle thinges that ye make pees betwene God and you, and be reconciled unto him and to his grace, for as I have sayde you herebeforen, God hath suffered you to have this tribulation and disese for youre sinnes: and if ye do as I say you, God wol sende youre adversaries unto you, and make hem falle at youre feet, redy to do youre will and youre commaundements. For Salomon sayth; whan the condition of man is plesaunt and liking to God, he chaungeth the hertes of the

mannes adversaries, and constreineth hem to besechen him of pees and of grace. And I pray you let me speke with your adversaries in privee place, for they shuln not knowe that it be of youre will or youre assent; and than, whan I knowe hir will and hir entente, I may conseille you the more seurely.

Dame, quod Melibeus, doth youre will and youre liking, for I putte me holly in youre disposition and ordinaunce.

Than Dame Prudence, when she sey the good will of hire husbond, delibered unto hire, and toke avis in hire self, thinking how she might bring this nede unto goode ende. And whan she sey hire time, she sent for thise adversaries to come unto hire in to a privee place, and shewed wisely unto hem the grete goodes that comen of pees, and the grete harmes and perils that ben in werre; and saide to hem, in a goodly manere, how that hem oughte have gret repentaunce of the injuries and wronges, that they hadden don to Melibeus hire lord, and unto hire and to hire doughter.

And whan they herden the goodly wordes of Dame Prudence, they weren so surprised and ravished, and hadden so gret joye of hire, that wonder was to telle. A, lady, quod they, ye have shewed unto us the blessing of swetenesse, after the saying of David the Prophete; for the reconciling, which we be not worthy to have in no manere, but we oughten requeren it with grete contrition and humilitee, ye of youre grete goodnesse have presented unto us. Now see we wel, that the science and conning of Salomon is ful trewe; for he saith, that swete wordes multiplien and encresen frendes, and maken shrewes to be debonaire and meke.

Certes, quod they, we putten oure dede, and all oure matere and cause, al holly in youre good will, and ben redy to obeye unto the speche and commaundement of my lord Melibeus. And therfore, dere and benigne lady, we praye you and beseche you as mekely as we conne and moun, that it like unto youre grete goodnesse to fulfille in dede youre goodly wordes. For we consideren and knowelechen, that we han offended and greved my lord Melibeus out of mesure, so fer forth, that we ben not of power to maken him amendes; and therfore we oblige and binde us and oure frendes, for to do all his will and his commaundements: but peraventure he hath swiche hevinesse and swiche wrath to us ward, because of oure offence, that he wol enjoynen us swiche a peine, as we moun not bere ne susteine; and therfore, noble ladie, we beseche to youre womanly pittee to take swiche avisement in this nede, that we, ne oure frendes, ben not disherited and destroied, thurgh oure folie.

Certes, quod Prudence, it is an hard thing and right perilous, that a man putte him all outrely in the arbitration and jugement, and in the might and power of his enemie; for Salomon sayth: leveth me, and yeveth credence to that that I shall say: to thy sone, to thy wif, to thy frend, ne to thy brother, ne yeve thou never might ne maistrie over thy body, while thou livest. Now, sith he defendeth that a man shulde not yeve to his brother, ne to his frend, the might of his body, by a strenger reson he defendeth and forbedeth a man to yeve himself to his enemy. And natheles, I conseille you that ye mistruste not my lord: for I wot wel

name. And yet shal he not only besie him in keping his good name, but he shal also enforcen him alway to do som thing, by which he may renovelle his good name: for it is written, that the olde good los, or good name, of a man is sone gon and passed, whan it is not newed. And as touching that ye sayn, that ye wol exile your adversaries, that thinketh me muchel agein reson, and out of mesure, considered the power that they han yeven you upon hemself. And it is written, that he is worthy to lese his privilege, that misuseth the might and the power that is yeven him. And I sette cas, ye might enjoine hem that peine by right and by lawe, (which I trowe ye mowe not do) I say, ye might not putte it to execution peraventure, and than it were like to retourne to the werre, as it was beforn. And therfore if ye wol that men do you obeisaunce, ye must deme more curteisly, that is to sayn, ye must yeve more esie sentences and jugements. For it is written: he that most curteisly commandeth, to him men most obeyen. And therfore I pray you, that in this necessitee and in this nede ye caste you to overcome youre herte. For Senek sayth, that he that overcometh his herte, overcometh twies. And Tullius saith ther is nothing so commendable in a gret lord, as whan he is debonaire and meke, and appeseth him lightly. And I pray you, that ye wol now forbere to do vengeaunce, in swiche a manere, that your good name may be kept and conserved, and that men mown have cause and matere to preise you of pitee and of mercy; and that ye have no cause to repente you of thing that ye don. For Seneke saieth: he overcometh in an evil manere, that repenteth him of his victorie.

Wherfore I pray you let mercy be in youre herte, to the effect and entente, that God almighty have mercy upon you in his last jugement: for seint James saith in his Epistle jugement withoute mercy shal he do to him, that hath no mercy of another wight.

Whan Melibee had herd the grete skilles and resons of dame Prudence, and hire wise informations and techinges, his herte gan encline to the will of his wif, considering hire trewe entente, enforced him anon and assented fully to werken after hire conseil, and thanked God, of whom procedeth all goodnesse and all vertue, that him sent a wif of so gret discretion. And whan the day came that his adversaries shulde appere in his presence, he spake to hem ful goodly, and saide in this wise. Al be it so, that of youre pride and high presump. tion and folie, and of youre negligence and unconning, ye have misborne you, and trespased unto me, yet for as muchel as I see and behold youre grete humilitee, and that ye ben sory and repentant of youre giltes, it constreineth me to do you grace and mercy wherfore I receive you into my grace, and foryeve you outrely alle the offences, injuries, and wronges, that ye have don agein me and mine, to this effect and to this ende, that God of his endeles mercie wol at the time of oure dying foryeve us oure giltes, that we han trespased to him in this wretched world: for douteles, if we be sory and repentant of the sinnes and giltes, which we han trespased in the sight of oure Lord God, he is so free and so merciable, that he wol foryeven us oure giltes, and bringen us to the blisse that never hath ende. Amen.

THE MONKES PROLOGUE.

WHAN ended was my tale of Melibee,
And of Prudence and hire benignitee,
Our hoste saide; as I am faithful man,
And by the precious corpus Madrian,
I hadde lever than a barell of ale,
That goode lefe my wif had herde this tale:
For she n'is no thing of swiche patience,
As was this Melibeus wif Prudence.

By Goddes bones, whan I bete my knaves,
She bringeth me the grete clobbed staves,
And cryeth; slee the dogges everich on,
And breke hem bothe bak and every bon.
And if that any neighebour of mine
Wol not in chirche to my wif encline,
Or be so hardy to hire to trespace,

Whan she cometh home she rampeth in my face,
And cryeth; false coward, wreke thy wif:
By corpus Domini, I wol have thy knif,
And thou shalt have my distaf, and go spinne.
Fro day til night right thus she wol beginne.
Alas, she saith, that ever I was yshape
To wed a milksop, or a coward ape,

That wol ben overladde with every wight!
Thou darst not stonden by thy wives right.
This is my lif, but if that I wol fight,
And out at dore anon I mote me dight,
Or elles I am lost, but if that I
Be like a wilde leon, fool-hardy.

I wote wel she wol do me slee som day
Som neighebour, and thanne go my way,
For I am perilous with knif in honde,
Al be it that I dare not hire withstonde:
For she is bigge in armes by my faith,
That shal he finde, that hire misdoth or saith.
But let us passe away fro this matere.

My lord the Monk, quod he, be mery of chere, For ye shul telle a tale trewely.

Lo, Rouchester stondeth here faste by.
Ride forth, min owen lord, breke not our game.
But by my trouthe I can not telle youre name;
Whether shal I call you my lord Dan John,
Or Dan Thomas, or elles Dan Albon ?
Of what hous be ye, by your fader kin
I vow to God, thou hast a ful faire skin;
It is a gentil pasture ther thou gost;
Thou art not like a penaunt or a gost.
Upon my faith thou art som officer,
Son worthy sextein, or som celerer.

For by my fadres soule, as to my dome,
Thou art a maister, whan thou art at home;
No poure cloisterer, ne non novice,
But a governour bothe ware and wise,
And therwithal of braunes and of bones
A right wel faring persone for the nones.
I pray to God yeve him confusion,
That first thee brought into religion.
Thou woldest han ben a trede-foul a right,
Haddest thou as grete leve, as thou hast might,
To parfourme all thy lust in engendrure,
Thou haddest begeten many a creature.
Alas! why werest thou so wide a cope?
God yeve me sorwe, but, and I were pope,
Not only thou but every mighty man,
Though he were shore ful high upon his
Shuld have a wif, for al this world is lorn;
Religion hath take up all the corn
Of treding, and we borel men ben shrimpes:
Of feble trees ther comen wretched impes.
This maketh that our heires ben so sclendre
And feble, that they moun not wel engendre.
This maketh that our wives wol assaye
Religious folk, for they moun better paye
Of Venus payementes than mowen we :
God wote, no lussheburghes payen ye.

pan,

But be not wroth, my lord, though that I play :
Ful oft in game a sothe have I herd say.

This worthy Monke toke all in patience,
And saide; I wol don all my diligence,
As fer as souneth into honestee,
To tellen you a tale, or two or three.
And if you list to herken hiderward,
I wol you sayn the lif of Seint Edward ;
Or elles tragedies first I wol telle,
Of which I have an hundred in my celle.
Tragedie is to sayn a certain storie,
As olde bookes maken us memorie,
Of him that stood in gret prosperitee,
And is yfallen out of high degree
In to miserie, and endeth wretchedly.
And they ben versified communly

Of six feet, which men clepen exametron :
In prose eke ben endited many on,
And eke in metre, in many a sondry wise.
Lo, this declaring ought ynough suffice.

Now herkeneth, if you liketh for to here.
But first I you beseche in this matere,
Though I by ordre telle not thise thinges,
Be it of popes, emperoures, or kinges,
After hir ages, as men written finde,
But telle hem som before and som behinde,
As it now cometh to my remembrance,
Have me excused of min ignorance.

THE MONKES TALE.

I WOL bewaile in manere of tragedie
The harm of hem, that stode in high degree,
And fellen so, that ther n'as no remedie
To bring hem out of hir adversitee.
For certain whan that fortune list to flee,
Ther may no man of hire the cours withholde:
Let no man trust on blinde prosperitee;
Beth ware by thise ensamples trewe and olde.

LUCIFER.

At Lucifer, though he an angel were And not a man, at him I wol beginne. For though fortune may non angel dere, From high degree yet fell he for his sinne Doun into helle, wheras he yet is inne. O Lucifer, brightest of angels alle, Now art thou Sathanas, that maist not twinne Out of miserie, in which that thou art falle.

ADAM.

Lo Adam, in the feld of Damascene With Goddes owen finger wrought was he, And not begeten of mannes sperme unclene, And welte all Paradis saving o tree: Had never worldly man so high degree As Adam, til he for misgovernance Was driven out of his prosperitee

To labour, and to helle, and to meschance.

SAMPSON.

Lo Sampson, which that was annunciat By the angel, long or his nativitee: And was to God Almighty consecrat, And stode in noblesse while he mighte see: Was never swiche another as was he,

To speke of strength, and therto hardinesse : But to his wives tolde he his secree,

Thurgh which he slow himself for wretchednesse.

Sampson, this noble and mighty champion,
Withouten wepen, save his handes twey,
He slow and all to-rente the leon,

Toward his wedding walking by the wey:
His false wif coude him so plese, and pray,
Til she his conseil knewe; and she untrewe
Unto his foos his conseil gan bewray,
And him forsoke, and toke another newe.

Three hundred foxes toke Sampson for ire,
And all hir tayles he togeder bond:
And set the foxes tayles all on fire,
For he in every tayl had knit a brond.
And they brent all the cornes in that lond,

And all hir oliveres, and vines eke.

A thousand men he slow eke with his hond,
And had no wepen, but an asses cheke.

Whan they were slain, so thursted him, that he
Was wel nie lorne, for which he gan to
preye,
That God wold on his peine han som pitee,
And send him drinke, or elles moste he deye:
And of this asses cheke, that was so dreye,
Out of a wang toth sprang anon a welle,
Of which he dranke ynough, shortly to seye.
Thus halp him God, as Judicum can telle.

By veray force at Gasa on a night,
Maugre the Philistins of that citee,
The gates of the toun he hath up plight,
And on his bak ycaried hem hath he
High on an hill, wher as men might hem se.
O noble mighty Sampson, lefe and dere,
Haddest thou not told to women thy secree,
In all this world ne had ther ben thy pere.

This Sampson never sider drank ne wine,
Ne on his hed came rasour non ne shere,
By precept of the messager divine,
For all his strengthes in his heres were:

And fully twenty winter yere by yere
He hadde of Israel the governance:
But sone shal he wepen many a tere,

For women shuln him bringen to meschance.

Unto his lemman Dalida he told,
That in his heres all his strengthe lay,
And falsely to his fomen she him sold;
And sleping in hire barme upon a day
She made to clip or shere his here away,
And made his fomen all his craft espien ;
And whan that they him fond in this array,
They bond him fast, and putten out his eyen.

But or his here was clipped or yshave,
Ther was no bond, with which men might him bind,
But now is he in prison in a cave,
Wheras they made him at the querne grinde.
O noble Sampson, strongest of mankind,
O whilom juge in glory and richesse,
Now mayest thou wepen with thin eyen blind,
Sith thou fro wele art falle in wretchednesse.

The ende of this caitif was, as I shal seye: His fomen made a feste upon a day, And made him as hir fool before hem pleye: And this was in a temple of gret array. But at the last he made a foule affray, For he two pillers shoke, and made hem falle, And doun fell temple and all, and ther it lay, And slow himself, and eke his fomen alle.

This is to sayn, the princes everich on, And eke three thousand bodies were ther slain With falling of the gret temple of ston. Of Sampson now wol I no more sain : Beth ware by this ensample old and plain, That no men tell hir conseil to hir wives

Of swiche thing, as they wold han secree fain, If that it touch hir limmes or hir lives.

HERCULES.

Of Hercules the soveraine conquerour Singen his werkes laude, and high renoun; For in his time of strength he was the flour. He slow and raft the skinne of the leon; He of Centaures laid the bost adoun; He Harpies slow, the cruel briddes felle ; He golden apples raft fro the dragon; He drow out Cerberus the hound of helle.

He slow the cruel tirant Busirus,

And made his hors to fret him flesh and bon;
He slow the firy serpent venemous;
Of Achelous two hornes brake he on.
And he slow Cacus in a cave of ston;
He slow the geaunt Anteus the strong;
He slow the grisely bore, and that anon;
And bare the hevene on his nekke long.

Was never wight sith that the world began,
That slow so many monstres, as did he ;
Thurghout the wide world his name ran,
What for his strength, and for his high bountee ;
And every reaume went he for to see,

He was so strong that no man might him let;
At bothe the worldes endes, saith Trophee,
In stede of boundes he a piller set.

A lemman had this noble champion, That highte Deianire, as fresh as May; And as thise clerkes maken mention, She hath him sent a sherte fresh and gay: Alas! this sherte, alas and wala wa ! Evenimed was sotilly withalle,

That or that he had wered it half a day, It made his flesh all from his bones falle.

But natheles som clerkes hire excusen By on, that highte Nessus, that it maked; Be as may be, I wol hire not accusen; But on his bak this sherte he wered al naked, Til that his flesh was for the venim blaked: And whan he saw non other remedie; In hote coles he hath himselven raked, For with no venime deigned him to die.

Thus starf this worthy mighty Hercules.
Lo, who may trust on fortune any throw?
For him that folweth all this world of pres,
Or he be ware, is oft ylaid ful lowe:
Ful wise is he, that can himselven knowe.
Beth ware, for whan that fortune list to glose,
Than waiteth she hire man to overthrowe
By swiche a way, as he wold lest suppose.

NABUCHODONOSOR.

The mighty trone, the precious tresor,
The glorious sceptre, and real majestee,
That hadde the king Nebuchodonosor,
With tonge unnethes may descrived be.
He twies wan Jerusalem the citee,

The vessell of the temple he with him ladde;
At Babiloine was his soveraine see,
In which his glorie and his delit he hadde.

The fayrest children of the blood real Of Israel he did do gelde anon, And maked cche of hem to ben his thral. Amonges other Daniel was on,

That was the wisest child of everich on; For he the dremes of the king expouned, Wher as in Caldee clerk ne was ther non, That wiste to what fin his dremes souned.

This proude king let make a statue of gold Sixty cubites long, and seven in brede, To which image bothe yonge and old Commanded he to loute, and have in drede, Or in a fourneis, ful of flames rede, He shuld be brent, that wolde not obeye: But never wold assenten to that dede Daniel, ne his yonge felawes tweye.

This king of kinges proud was and elat; He wend that God, that sit in majestee, Ne might him nat bereve of his estat: But sodenly he lost his dignitee, And like a best him semed for to be, And ete hey as an oxe, and lay therout: In rain with wilde bestes walked he, Til certain time was ycome about.

And like an egles fethers wex his heres, His neyles like a briddes clawes were, Til God relesed him at certain yeres, And yat him wit, and than with many a tere