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And offred with great reverence,
Which was to Troie an evidence
Of love and pees for evermo.
The Gregois token leve tho
With all the hole felaship,
And forth they wenten into ship
And crossen fail and made hem yare
Anone as though they wolden fare.
But whan the blacke winter night
Withoute mone or sterre light
Bederked hath the water stronde,
Al prively they gone to londe
Full armed out of the navie.
Simon, whiche made was here espie
Withinne Troie, as was conspired,
Whan time was a tokne hath fired,
And they with that here waie holden
And comen in right as they wolden,
There as the gate was to-broke.
The purpose was full take and spoke
Er any man may take kepe,
Whil that the citee was allepe
They slowen al that was withinne
And token what they mighten winne
Of such good as was suffisaunt
And brenden up the remenaunt.
And thus come out the trecherie,
Which under false ypocrisie
Was hid, and they that wende pees
Tho mighten finde no releese


Of thilke swerd, whiche al devoureth.
Full ofte and thus the swete foureth,
Whan it is knowe to the taste,
He spilleth many a worde in waste
That shal with such a people trete,
For whan he weneth most beyete
Than is he shape most to lese.
And right so if a woman chese
Upon the wordes that she hereth,
Som man whan he most true appereth
Than is he furthest fro the trouthe.
But yet full ofte, and that is routhe,
They speden, that ben most untrue
And loven every day a newe,
Wherof the life is after lothe
And love hath cause to be wrothe.
But what man that his lust desireth
Of love and therupon conspireth
With wordes feigned to deceive,
He shall nought faile to receive

His peine as it is ofte sene.
Confeffor. Forthy my fone, as I the mene,

It fit the well to taken hede,
That thou escheue of thy manhede
Y pocrisie and his semblaunt,
That thou ne be nought deceivaunt
To make a woman to beleve
Thing, whiche is nought in thy beleve.
For in suche feint ypocrisie
Of love is all the trecherie,

hrough which love is deceived ofte. or feigned semblaunt is so softe, Innethes love may be ware. Corthy my sone, as I well dare,

charge the to flee that vice,
Chat many a woman hath made nice,
But loke thou dele nought with all.
wis my fader, no more I shall.

Now sone kepe, that thou hast swore. Confessor.
For this that thou hast herd before
s said the first point of pride.
Ind next upon that other side
To shrive and speken over this
Touchend of pride yet there is
The point seconde I the behote,
Which inobedience is hote.



Flettere quam frangi melius reputatur, et olle

Fietilis ad cacabum pugna valere nequit.
Quem neque lex hominum, neque lex divina valebit

Flectere, multociens corde reflectit amor.
Quem non flectit amor, non est fleEtendus ab ullo,

Sed rigor illius plus elephante riget.
Dedignatur amor poterit quos scire rebelles,

Et rudibus fortem preftat habere rudem. Sed qui fponte sui subicit se cordis amori,

Frangit in adversis omnia fata pius.

This vice of inobedience
Ayein the reule of conscience
All that is humble he difaloweth,
That he toward his god ne boweth
After the lawes of his heste.
Nought as a man, but as a beste

Hic loquitur de recunda specie fuperbie, que inobediencia dicitur. Et primo illius vicii naturam simpliciter declarat et tractat subsequenter super illa inobediencia, que in

curia Cupidinis Whiche goth upon his luftes wilde
exosa amoris cau-
fam ex fua imbe- So goth this proude vice unmilde,
cillitate fepissime
retardat, in cuius That he disdeigneth alle lawe.
materia confessor L
amanti fpecialius He not what is to be felawe

And serve he may nought for pride.
So is he ledde on every side
And is that selve, of whom men speke,
Which woll nought bowe, er that he breke.
I not if love him might plie,
For elles for to justifie

His herte, I not what might availe.
Confeffor. Forthy my sone, of suche entaile

If that thin herte be disposed,
Telle out and let it nought be glosed.
For if that thou unbuxome be

To love, I not in what degre

· Thou shalt thy good worde acheve.
Amans. My fader, ye shal well beleve,

The yonge whelpe, which is affaited,
Hath nought his maister better awaited
To couche, whan he faith go lowe,
Than I anone, as I may knowe
My lady will me bowe more.
But other while I grucche fore
Of some thinges, that she doth,
Wherof that I woll telle foth.
For of two pointes I am bethought,
That though I wolde I might nought
Obeie unto my ladies hest,
But I dare make this behest

Sauf only of that ilke two,
I am unbuxome of no mo.
What ben tho two, tell on, quod he. Opponit confessor.
My fader, this is one, that she

Respondet amans.
Commaundeth me my mouthe to close,
And that I shulde her nought oppose
In love, of whiche I ofte preche,
And plenerlich of suche a speche
Forbere and suffre her in pees.
But that ne might I netheles
For all this worlde obey iwis.
For whan I am there as she is,
Though she my tales nought allowe,
Ayein her will get mote I bowe
To seche, if that I might have grace.
But that thing may I nought embrace
For ought that I can speke or do.
And yet full ofte I speke so,
That she is wroth and faith : be stille.
If I that hefte shall fulfille
And therto ben obedient,
Than is my cause fully shent,
For fpecheles may no man spede.
So wote I nought what is to rede.
But certes I may nought obeie,
That I ne mote algate faie
Some what of that I wolde mene,
For ever it is a liche grene
The great love which I have,
Wherof I can nought bothe fave

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