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My fpeche and this obedience.
And thus full ofte my silence
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 side
To tell my disobeisaunce,
Full fore it stant to my grevaunce
And may nought sinke into my wit.
Full ofte time she me bit
To leven her and chese a newe
And faith, if I the sothe knewe
How fer I stonde from her grace,
I Thulde love in other place.
But therof wol I disobeie
For also wel she mighte faie :
Go take the mone there it sit,
As bringe that into my wit.
For there was never rooted tree
That stood so faste in his degree,
That I ne stonde 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 stant it so, that I ne maie
Her love out of my brest remue.
This is a wonder retenue,
That malgre where she woll or none
Min herte is evermo in one,
o that I can none other chese,
But whether that I winne or lese
: 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 beseche after the forme,
That ye pleinly me wolde enforme,
So that I may min herte reule
In loves cause after the reule.
Hic loquitur de murmure et planctu, qui super omnes alios inobediencie secreciores ut miniftri illi deserviunt.
Murmur in adversis ita concipit ille fuperbus,
Pena quod ex bina forte purget eum.
O bina fortune cum fpes in amore refiftit,
Non sine 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 sette a glad femblaunt therinne,
For though fortune make hem winne,
Yet grucchen they, and if they lese
There is no waie for to chese,
Wherof they mighten stonde appesed.
So ben they comunly disesed,
There may no welth ne pouerte
Attempren hem to the deserte
Of buxomnesse by no wise.
For ofte time they despise
The good fortune as the badde,
As they no mannes reson hadde
Through pride, wherof they be blinde.
And right of such a maner kinde
Ther be lovers, that though they have
Of love all that they wolde crave,
Yet woll they grucche by some weie,
That they wol nought to love obeie
Upon the trouth, as they do sholde.
And if hem lacketh that they wolde,
Anon they falle in such a peine,
That ever unbuxomly they pleine
Upon fortune and curse and crie,
That they wol nought her hertes plie
To suffre, till it better falle.
Forthy if thou amonges alle
Hast used this condicion,
My sone, in thy confession
Now tell me pleinly what thou art.
Amans. My fader, I beknowe a part
So as ye tolden here above
Of murmur and compleint of love,
That for I se no spede comende
Ayein fortune compleignende
I am as who faith evermo
And eke full ofte time also.
Whan so as that I se or here
Of hevy word or hevy chere
Of my lady, I grucche anone,
But wordes dare I speke none,
Wherof she mighte be displesed.
But in min herte I am disesed
With many a murmur god it wote,
Thus drinke I in min owne swote.
And though I make no semblaunt,
Min herte is all disobeisaunt,
And in this wise I me confesse
Of that ye clepe unbuxomnesse.
Now telleth what your counseil is.
My sone, as I the rede this,
What so befall of other weie,
That thou to loves hest obeie
Als fer as thou it might suffise.
For ofte fith in such a wise
Obedience in love availeth,
Where all a mannes strengthe faileth,
Wherof if that the list to wit
In a cronique as it is writ
A great ensample 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 desirous,
Chivalerous and amorous,
And for the fame of worldes fpeche
Straunge aventures for to seche
Hic contra amori inobedientes ad commendacionem obediencie confessor super eodem exemplum ponit, ubi dicit, quod cum quidam regis Sicilie filia in sue juventutis floribus pulcherrima ex eius noverce incantacionibus in vetulam turpiffimam transformata extitit, Florencius tunc imperatoris Claudii nepos, miles in armis ftrenuissimus amorosisque legibus
intendens ipsam ex He rode the marches all aboute.
sua obediencia in pul-
chritudinem priti- And fell a time as he was oute
nam mirabiliter re-
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 so it fell that ilke stounde,
That he hath with a dedly wounde
Fightend his owne hondes Nain
Branchus, whiche to the Capitain
Was sone and heire, wherof ben wrothe
The fader and the moder bothe.
That knight Branchus was of his honde
The worthiest of all his londe,
And fain they wolden do vengeaunce
Upon Florent, but remembraunce
That they toke of his worthinesse,
Of knighthode and of gentilesse,
And how he stood of cousinage
To themperour, made hem assuage,
And dorste nought slaine him for fere.
In great desputeson they were
Among hem selfe, that was the best.
There was a lady, tħe siest
Of alle that men knewen tho,
So olde she might unnethes go,
And was grauntdame to the dede.
And she with that began to rede