My speche and this obedience.
And thus full ofte my filence
I breke, and is the first point
Wherof that I am out of point
In this, and yet it is no pride.
Now than upon that other fide
To tell my disobeisaunce,
Full fore it ftant to my grevaunce
And may nought finke into
Full ofte time she me bit
To leven her and chese a newe
And faith, if I the fothe knewe
How fer I ftonde from her grace,
I shulde love in other place.
But therof wol I disobeie
For also wel she mighte faie:
Go take the mone there it fit,
As bringe that into my wit.
For there was never rooted tree
That stood so faste in his degree,
That I ne ftonde more faste
Upon her love and may nought caste
Min herte awey, all though I wolde.
For god wote though I never sholde
Sene her with eye after this daie,
Yet ftant it fo, that I ne maie
Her love out of my breft remue.
This is a wonder retenue,
That malgre where the woll or none
Min herte is evermo in one,
So that I can none other chefe,
But whether that I winne or lefe
I must her loven till I deie
And thus I breke as by that weie
Her heftes and her commaundinges.
But trulich in none other thinges.
Forthy my fader, what is more
Touchende of this ilke lore
I you befeche after the forme,
That ye pleinly me wolde enforme,
So that I may min herte reule
In loves cause after the reule.
Murmur in adverfis ita concipit ille fuperbus,
Pena quod ex bina forte purget eum.
O bina fortune cum fpes in amore refiftit,
Non fine mentali murmure plangit amans.
Toward this vice of which we trete
There ben yet tweie of thilke estrete,
Her name is murmur and compleinte.
Ther can no man her chere peinte.
To fette a glad femblaunt therinne,
For though fortune make hem winne,
Yet grucchen they, and if they lefe
There is no waie for to chefe,
Wherof they mighten stonde appesed.
So ben they comunly disesed,
There may no welth ne pouerte
Attempren hem to the deserte
Of buxomneffe by no wife.
For ofte time they despise
Hic loquitur de murmure et planctu, qui fuper omnes alios inobediencie fecreciores ut miniftri illi deservi
The good fortune as the badde,
As they no mannes refon hadde
Through pride, wherof they be blinde.
And right of fuch a maner kinde
Ther be lovers, that though they have
Of love all that they wolde crave,
Yet woll they grucche by fome weie,
That they wol nought to love obeie
Upon the trouth, as they do fholde.
And if hem lacketh that they wolde,
Anon they falle in such a peine,
That ever unbuxomly they pleine
Upon fortune and curfe and crie,
That they wol nought her hertes plie
To fuffre, till it better falle.
Forthy if thou amonges alle
Haft used this condicion,
My fone, in thy confeffion
Now tell me pleinly what thou art.
My fader, I beknowe a part
So as ye tolden here above
Of murmur and compleint of love,
That for I fe no spede comende
Ayein fortune compleignende
I am as who faith evermo
And eke full ofte time also.
Whan fo as that I fe or here
Of hevy word or hevy chere
Of my lady, I grucche anone,
But wordes dare I fpeke none,
Wherof she mighte be displefed.
But in min herte I am difefed
With many a murmur god it wote,
Thus drinke I in min owne fwote.
And though I make no semblaunt,
Min herte is all disobeisaunt,
And in this wife I me confeffe
Of that ye clepe unbuxomnesse.
Now telleth what your counfeil is.
My fone, as I the rede this,
What fo befall of other weie,
That thou to loves heft obeie
Als fer as thou it might suffise.
For ofte fith in fuch a wife
Obedience in love availeth,
Where all a mannes strengthe faileth,
Wherof if that the lift to wit
In a cronique as it is writ
A great enfample thou might finde,
Which now come is to my minde.
There was whilom by daies olde
A worthy knight and as men tolde
He was neveu to themperour
And of his court a courteour.
Wifeles he was, Florent he hight,
He was a man, that mochel might.
Of armes he was defirous,
Chivalerous and amorous,
And for the fame of worldes fpeche
Straunge aventures for to feche
Hic contra amori inobedientes ad commendacionem obediencie confeffor fuper eodem exemplum ponit, ubi dicit, quod cum quidam regis Sicilie filia in fue juventutis floribus pulcherrima ex eius noverce incantacionibus in vetulam turpiffimam transformata extitit, Florencius tunc imperatoris Claudii nepos, miles in armis ftrenuiffimus amorofifque legibus
intendens ipfam ex He rode the marches all aboute. fua obediencia in pul
chritudinem priti- And fell a time as he was oute
nam mirabiliter reformavit.
Fortune, which may every threde
To-breke and knitte of mannes spede,
Shope, as this knight rode in a pas,
That he by strengthe taken was,
And to a castell they him ladde,
Where that he fewe frendes hadde.
For fo it fell that ilke ftounde,
That he hath with a dedly wounde
Fightend his owne hondes flain
Branchus, whiche to the Capitain
Was fone and heire, wherof ben wrothe
The fader and the moder bothe.
That knight Branchus was of his honde
The worthieft of all his londe,
And fain they wolden do vengeaunce
Upon Florent, but remembraunce
That they toke of his worthineffe,
Of knighthode and of gentileffe,
And how he stood of coufinage
To themperour, made hem affuage,
And dorfte nought flaine him for fere.
In great desputeson they were
Among hem felfe, that was the best.
There was a lady, the fliest
Of alle that men knewen tho,
So olde fhe might unnethes go,
And was grauntdame to the dede.
And she with that began to rede
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