Hic ponit confeffor
exemplum contra il
By olde enfample as thou shalt here Touchend of love in this matere.
A maiden whilom there was one,
los, qui in amoris cau- Which Daphne hight, and such was none fa nimia feftinacione Of beaute than, as it was faide.
dius expediunt, et Phebus his love hath on her laide, narrat, qualiter pro
eo, quod Phebus And therupon to her he sought
pulcherrimam nomi- In his foolhafte and so befought, ne Daphnem nimia
amoris acceleracione That she with him no reste hadde, infequebatur, iratus
Cupido cor Phebi fa- For ever upon her love he gradde, gitta aurea ignita ar- And she said ever unto him nay.
econtra cor Daphne So it befelle upon a day
bea, que frigidiffima Cupide, whiche hath every chaunce fuit, fobrius perfora
vit, et fic quanto ma- Of love under his governaunce,
in amore Daphnem Sigh Phebus haften him so fore, perfecutus eft, tanto And for he fhulde him hafte more magis ipfa frigidior And yet nought speden ate laste
Phebi concupifcen
ciam toto corde fugitiva dedignabatur.
A dart throughout his hert he caste, Which was of golde and all a fire, That made him many fold defire Of love more than he dede. To Daphne eke in the fame ftede A dart of led he cafte and fmote, Which was all colde and no thing hote.
And thus Phebus in love brenneth
And in his hafte aboute renneth To loke, if that he might winne. But he was ever to beginne, For ever away fro him fhe fled, So that he never his love sped.
And for to make him full beleve, That no foolhafte might acheve To gete love in fuch degre, This Daphne into a lorer tre Was torned, whiche is ever grene In token, as yet it may be fene,
That she shall dwelle a maiden stille And Phebus failen of his wille. By fuche enfamples as they ftonde, My fone, thou might understonde To haften love is thing in vein, Whan that fortune is there ayein, To take where a man hath leve Good is, and elles he mot leve. For whan a mannes happes failen, There is none haste may availen.
My fader, graunt mercy of this. But while I se my lady is
No tree, but holde her owne forme, There may me no man fo enforme, To whether part fortune wende, That I unto my lives ende Ne wol her serve evermo.
My fone, fithen it is so,
I fay no more, but in this cas
Beware, howe it with Phebus was. Nought only upon loves chaunce, But upon every governaunce, Which falleth unto mannes dede, Foolhafte is ever for to drede,
Hic ponit confeffor exemplum contra il
los, qui nimio furore
And that a man good counfeil take, Er he his purpose undertake, For counfeil put foolhafte awey. Now gode fader, I you prey, That for to wiffe me the more, Some good enfample upon this lore Ye wold me telle, of that is writ, That I the better mighte wit, Howe I foolhafte fhulde efcheue And the wisdome of counfeil fue. My fone, that thou might enforme Thy pacience upon the forme Of olde enfamples as they felle, Nowe understond, what I fhall telle.
When noble Troie was belein And overcome, and home ayein accenfi vindictam ire The Gregois torned fro the siege, fue ultra quam decet confequi affectant. Et The kinges found her owne liege
mas et Demephon re- In many place, as men faide,
Trojano ad propria That hem forfoke and difobeide.
ibidem pacifice recep- Among the whiche fell this cafe To Demephon and Athemas, natorum exercitu re- That weren kinges bothe two
gregato aliunde pug
giones fuas non folum
incendio vaftare fed And bothe weren ferved fo,
habitantes a minimo Her leges wolde hem nought receive,
perpetuam vindicte So that they mote algates weive memoriam gladio in
terficere fervore ira- To feche londe in other place. cundie propofuerunt. For there founde they no grace, Sed rex Neftor, qui
fenex et fapiens fuit, Wherof they token hem to rede
inter ipfos reges et And foughten frendes ate nede,
And eche of hem affureth other To helpe as to his owne brother Το hem of thilke oultrage vengen And winne ayein her heritage.
And thus they ride aboute fafte
To geten hem helpe, and ate lafte They hadden power fuffifaunt
And maden than a covenaunt, That they ne fhulde no life fave, Ne preft, ne clerk, ne lord, ne knave, Ne wife, ne childe of that they finde, Which berth visage of mannes kinde, So that no life fhall be focoured, But with the dedely swerd devoured. In fuch foolhafte her ordinaunce They shapen for to do vengeaunce. Whan this purpose was wist and knowe Among here hoft, tho was there blowe Of wordes many a fpeche aboute. Of yonge men the lusty route Were of this tale glad inough. There was no care for the plough, As they that weren foolhaftif They ben accorded to the strife
And sain, it may nought ben to great hem of fuch forfet.
Thus faith the wilde unwife tonge
Of hem, that there weren yonge.
But Neftor, which was olde and hore,
The falve figh to-fore the fore
As he, that was of counfeil wife. So that anone by his advise There was a prive counseil nome, The lordes ben to-gider come. This Demephon and Athemas Her purpos tolden, as it was. They fetten alle ftill and herde, Was non but Neftor hem answerde. He badde hem, if they wol winne, They fhulden fe, er they beginne, Her ende and fet her firft entent, That they hem after ne repent. And axeth hem this question, To what finall conclufion They wolde regne kinges there, If that no people in londe were? And faith, it were a wonder wierd To feen a king become an hierd, Where no life is but only beste Under the legeaunce of his hefte. For who that is of man no kinge The remenaunt is as no thinge. He faith eke, if they pourpose holde To flee the people, as they two wolde, Whan they it mighte nought restore, All Grece it fhulde abegge fore To fe the wilde beste wone,
Where whilom dwelt a mannes fone. And for that cause he bad hem trete And ftint of tho manaces grete.
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