Unto a temple, in all humble wise

Before dame Venus, thine oblation to make

Wherfore my power, dothe right well excell Above the Mars, in thine house enclosed

Aha quod Fortune, with the faces twayne
Behinde sir Mars, I haue a great maruayle
That thou doest promise him, that he shal attayne
Unto his purpose, with all diligent trauayle
Throughe thine ayde, eke strength and counsayle
Sythence dependeth, in mine ordinaunce
Him to promote, or bryng to mischaunce

My power, estate, and royall dignitie
Dothe turne the whele, of worthely glory
Often vp so downe, by mutabilitie
Haue not I promoted, full noblye

Many a low degre, to raygne full royallye
And often haue made, a transmutation
Of worldely wealthe, into tribulation.

Thus can I make, an alterasion

Of worthely honoure, whiche dothe depende
All onely in my dominacion

Throughe the worlde, my whele dothe extende
As reason dothe, ryght well comprehende
Of my great chaunces, whiche are vnsure
As dayly dothe appere well in vre.

If I shoulde worke, with perfect stedfastnes
As to exalt some, to be honourable
And that they knewe, by perfite sykernes
That it shoulde dure, and not be variable
It were a thing, vnto me culpable

For great orguel pride, shoulde them so blynde
To know them selues, they should lose their mind

Thus when that they, shoulde them selues forget
And in nowise, their owne person knowe
Full little then, they woulde by me sette
That them exalted, to hye degree from lowe
And by my chaunce, coulde nought the ouerthrow
Thus shoulde they do, and dreade me nothing
Wherfore my whele, is euermore turnyng

And where that I, shoulde turne my face
Castyng some, in pytte of pouertye
They were condempned, without any grace
As for to attayne, any prosperitie
Whiche were a cause, of greate iniquitie
For riche men's goodes, I must oft translate
Unto the pore, them for to eleuate

And thirdely, I shoulde lose my name
For this worde fortune, is well derified
Of an accident chaunce, bothe good or shame
When that the dede, is so exemplified
Wherfore by reason, I must be duplified
And nothing stable, in my hye warke
As writeth many, a ryght noble clarke

Therfore by reason, I must be mutable
And turne my whele, ryght oft vp so downe
Labouryng in workes, whiche are vustable
On some to laughe, and on some I must frowne
Thus all about, in euery realme and towne
I shewe my power, in euery sundry wise
Some to descende, and on some to arise.

Saue after the, somewhat he is disposed
Thy constelation, hath him so apposed
Who vnder the, taketh his natiuitie
Yet God hath geuen him, power to rule the

Wherfore I am, of a farre higher power
Then thou arte, for there is no defence
Agaynst my will, at any time or houre
And in my name, there is a difference
For in these wordes, in my magnificence
Predestinate, and also desteny

As I shall shewe, anone more formably

Predestinate, dothe right well signifie
A thing to come, whiche is prepared
None but God doth knowe it openly
Tyll that the dede, cause it to be declared
For many a one, when they well fared
Full little thought, that tribulation
To them was ordeyned, by predestination

The desteny, is a thing accident
And by the worke, dothe take the effect
Tyll it be done, it is ay precedent
No man from it, can him selfe abiect
Thus euery chaunce, dothe Fortune direct
Wherfore by reason, La graunde Amoure
Must sue vnto me, to do him socoure

Aha quod Mars, suche a one as thou

I neuer knewe before this season,
For thou thy selfe, doest so muche enproue
Aboue the heauens, by exaltation
But what for all, thy commendation
Arte thou nowe any thing substanciall
Spirituall, or els yet terrestriall

Howe can a worke, perfitely be grounded
But in these two, and thou arte of those
Wherfore for nought, thou maiest be confounded
For nought in substaunce, can nothing transpose
Of none effect, thou canst thy selfe disclose
Howe hast thou power, in any maner of case
In heauen or earth, without a dwellyng place

But that poetes, hath made a figure
Of thee, for thy great signification
The chaunce of man, so for to discure
Accordyng to a moralization,

And of the trouthe, to make relation
The man is fortune, in his proper dede
And not thou, that causeth him to spede

What neadeth him, vnto him selfe to sue
Sithens thou art, the dedes of his chaunce
Thou to rule man, it is a thing not true
Nowe wherupon, dothe hang this ordinaunce
But accedent, vpon the gouernaunce
Of the hye bodyes, whiche dothe man dispose
The dede to do, as him lyst purpose.

CAPI. XXVIII.

To heare of Mars, the maruelous argumēt And of Fortune, I was sore amased

With my behauyng, before the preeminence Of kyng Milizyus, famous excellence.

Whiche ryght anone, for dame Mynerue sent
And me also, with sir Trouthe to obey
We thought full little, what the matter ment
But vnto hym, we toke anone the way
Entryng the chamber, so fayre, cleare, and gay
The kyng vs called, vnto his persone
Saiyng, I will Graunde Amoure anone

Truely make knyght, for the time approcheth
That he must haunte, and seke aduenture
For La bell Pucell, as true loue requireth
And first of all, began to me discure
The high order, howe I should take in cure
And then anone, he began to expresse
What knighthode was, to perfite sykernes.

Knighthode he sayed, was first established
The commen wealthe, in ryght to defende
That by the wrong, it be not minished
So euery knight, must truely condescende
For the commen wealthe, his power to entende
Agaynst all suche rebels contrarious
Them to subdue, with power victorious

For knyghthode is not, in the feates of warre
As for to fight, in quarrell ryght or wrong
But in a cause, whiche trouthe can not defarre
He ought himselfe, for to make sure and strong
Justice to kepe, myxt with mercy among
And no quarell, a knyght ought to take
But for a trouthe, or for the commens sake

For first good hope, his legge harneyes shoulde be
His habergion, of perfect ryghteousnes
Gyrde fast, wyth the girdle of chastitie
His riche placarde, shoulde be good busines
Brodred with almes, so full of larges

The helmet mekenes, and the shelde good fayeth
His swerde God's worde, as. S. Paule sayeth.

Also true wydowes, he ought to restore
Unto their ryght, for to attayne their dower
And to vpholde, and mayntayne euermore
The wealth of maydens, w' his myghty power
And to his souerayne, at euery maner hower
To be ready, true, and eke obeysaunt
In stable loue fyxte, and not variaunt

Thus after this noble, and solemne doctrine
He made me knyght, and gaue me in charge
Unto these poyntes, right lowe to encline
And to stere well, the frayle tumblyng barge
Ouer vayne glory, when I sayle at large
When the winde is right, the barge can not fayle
Unto his purpose, so with hardines to sayle

I did well register, in my remembraunce
Euery thing, whiche he hath to me tolde
And right anone, in good resemblaunce
The kyng I thanked, with courage ryght bold
Of his great giftes, and grace many a folde
Which vnto me, ryght openly he shewed
With golden droppes, so liberally endued

I toke my leaue, of his ryght hye estate
And then Minerue, into the hall me brought

Accompanied of Trouth, my faythfull mate
Us for to solace, there lacked ryght nought
That any man, can prynte in his thought
The knyghtes all, vnto their armes went
To bryng me forwarde, with a true entent

And Minerue armed me, as she coulde deuise
And brought vnto me, my fayre barbed stede
On whom I mounted, in all goodly guise
With shelde and speare, as nothing to dreade
In ryght to fight, for to attayne my mede
So with me went, bothe my greyhoundes twayne
And good Attendaunce, my verlet certayne.

The good knight Trouth, brought me on my way
Accompanied then, with sir Fidelitie

With haute courage, betrapped fayre and gay
With shinyng trappers, of curiositie
And then also, there rode forthe with me
The sturdy knight, well named Fortitude
With the noble veterane, sir Consuetude.

And eke sir Iustice, and sir Misericorde
Sir Sapience, with good sir Curtesye
With famous Nurture, and then syr Concord
Accompanied me, full ryght gently
Out of the castell, ridyng royally

And dame Minerue, the chiualreous goddesse
Did me endue then, with harty hardines

And when we came, into a goodly playne
Right of them all, I toke my licence
Me thought it time, that they turne agayne
Unto the kyng, with all their diligence
I made mine othe, with percyng influence
Unto them all, for to remayne full true
In stedfast loue, all treason to eschue

Full lothe they were, fro me to depart
Euery one of them, as ye may vnderstande
With salt teares, full wofull was my hart
When all on rowe, they toke me by the hande
Adue they saied, and grace with you stande
You for to ayde, when that you do fight
And so they turned, vnto the castell ryght.

And good dame Mynerue, vnto me then saied
Be not adredde, of your hye enterprise
Be bolde, and hardy, and nothing afrayed
And rather dye, in any maner of wise
To attayne honoure, and the life despise
Then for to liue, and to remaine in shame
For to dye with honoure, it is a good name

Farewell, she saied, and be of good cheare
I must depart, I may no lenger tary
Ryde on your way, the wether is full cleare
Seke your aduenture, and loke ye not vary
From your hye order, by any contrary
And therwithall, forthe on her way she rode
Right so did I, whiche no lenger abode

With bothe my greyhoundes and my verlet
Throughe the playne, and into wildernes
And so aloft, among the hilles great
Tyll it was nyght, so thicke of darkenes
That of constraint, of very werines
We lighted adowne, vnder an hyll syde
Unto the day, to rest vs there that tide.

And when my page, my helmet vnlaced
He layed it downe, vnderneth my heade
And to his legge, he my stede enbraced
To grase about, while on the grasse he fedde
And then also, his horse in like stede

With bothe our greyhoundes lyng vs nere by
And slouth our heades, had caught so sodaynely

That all the night, we slept in good rest
Till agaynst day, began to neye and crye
My stede Galantise, with a roaryng brest
And eke began, to stampe full marueylouslye
Whose hye courage, awaked vs wondersly
And ryght anone, we cast vp our eyes
Beholdyng aboue, the fayre crystall skyes

Seyng the cloudes, rayed fayre and redde
Of Phebus risyng, in the orient
And Aurora, her golden bemes spredde
About the ayre, clearely refulgent
Withouten mistye blacke, encombrement
Up I arose, and also my page,
Makyng vs ready, for to take our voage

CAPIT. XXIX.

AND SO forthe we rode, till we sawe afarre
To vs come ridyng on a little nagge
A folyshe dwarfe, nothyng for the warre
With a hode, a bell, a foxtayle, and a bagge
In a pyed coate, he rode brygge a bragge
And when that he, vnto vs drewe nye
I beheld his body, and his visenamye.

His heade was great, betled was his browes
His eyen holowe, and his nose croked
His bryes brystled, truely like a sowes
His chekes heerie, and God wotte he loked
Full like an ape, here and there he toted
With a pyed bearde, and hangyng lyppes great
And euery tothe, as blacke as any gete

His necke short, his shoulders stode awry
His breast fatte, and bolne in the waste
His armes great, with fingers crokedly
His legges kewed, he rode to me fast
Full like a patron, to be shaped in haste
Good euen he saied, and haue good day
If that it like you, for to ride merely away.

Welcome, I sayed, I pray the nowe tell
Me what thou art, and where thou dost dwell
Sotheych quod he, when I cham in Kente
At home I cham, though I be hether sent
I cham a gentilman, of muche noble kynne
Thoughe Iche be cladde, in a knaues skynne

For there was one, called Peter Pratefast
That in all his life, spake no worde in waste
He wedded a wife, that was called Maude
I trowe quod I, she was a gorgious baude
Thou lyest, quod he, she was gentle and good
She gaue her husbande, many a furde hode

And at his meales, without any misse
She woulde him serue in clenly wise iwys
God loue her soule, as she loued clenlines
And kepe her dishes, from all foulenes

They are not stedfast, nothinyng in their minde
But alway turnyng, like a blast of winde
For let a man loue them, neuer so well
They will him loue againe, neuer a deale
For thoughe a man, all his life certayne
Unto her sue, to haue release of payne

And at the last, she on him do rue
If by fortune, there come another newe
The first shal be clene, out of her fauore
Record of Creside, and of Troylus the doloure
They are so subtile, and so false of kynde
There can no man wade, beyonde their minde

Was not Aristotle, for all his cleargy
For a woman wrapt, in loue so marueylously
That all his cunnyng, he had sone forgotten
This vnhappy loue, had his minde so broken
That euermore, the salt teares downe hayled
When the chaunce of loue, he him selfe bewayled

Aferde he was, of the true loue to breake
For saiyng naye, when he therof shoulde speake
Till of constraint, of wofull heauines
For to haue remedy, of his sore sickenes
When he her spied, right secrete alone
Unto her he went, and made all his mone

Alas he saied, the cause of my wo Mine onely lady, and mistris also

Whose goodly beautie, hath my harte enrached With feruent loue, and fiery lemes entached Wherfore take pitye, of the paynefull sorowe Of me your seruaunt, bothe euen and morowe

She stode right styll, and heard what he saied
Alas quod she, be ye no more dismayed
For I am content, to fulfill your wyll
In euery maner, be it good or yll
Of this condicion, that ye shall release
Me first of wo,
and great distresse.

For I my selfe, haue thought many a day
To you to speake, but for feare of a nay
I durst neuer of the matter meue
Unto your person, lest it shoulde you greue
Nay nay quod he, with all my whole entente
I shall obey, to your commaundement

Well then quod she, I shall you nowe tell
Howe the case standeth, truely every dele
For you knowe well, that some women do long
After nyce thinges, be it ryght or wrong
Right so must I, vpon your backe nowe ryde
In your mouthe also, a brydle you to guide

And so a brydle, she put in his mouthe
Upon his backe she rode, bothe northe and southe
About a chamber, as some clarkes wene
Of many persons it was openly sene
Lo, what is loue, that can so sore blynde
A philosopher, to bryng him out of kynde

For loue dothe passe any maner of thing
It is harde, and priuy in workyng
So on the grounde Aristotle crept
And in his teeth, she long the bridle kept
Till she therof, had inoughe her fyll
And yet for this, he neuer had his wyll

She did nothing, but for to mocke and scorne
This true louer, which was for loue forlorne
But when he knewe, the poynt of the case
The fiery anger, did his hart enbrace,
That he him selfe, did anone well knowe
His anger did, his loue so ouerthrowe

And right anone, as some poetes write

He that great mockage, did her well acquite.
Did not a woman, the famous Virgyle
By her great fraude, full craftely begile,
For on a daye, for his owne disport
To the courte of Rome, he gan to resorte

Among the ladyes, the time for to passe
Till at the last, like Phebus in the glasse
So did a lady, with her beauty cleare
Shine throughe his hart, with suche loue so deare
Then of great force, he must nedes obey
She of his minde, bare bothe the locke and key

So was his hart, set vpon a fire
With feruent loue, to attayne his desire
She had him caught, in suche a wily snare
Great was his payne, and muche more his care
To fynde a time, when it shoulde be meued
To her of loue, and he nothing repreued

Thus euery day, by ymagination
In his minde, was suche perturbation

And at the last, he had founde a time
He thought to speake, and vnto him no cryme
Mercy lady, nowe in all humble wise
To her he saied, for if ye me despise

So hath your beauty, my true hart arayed
It is no maruaile, thoughe I be afrayed
To you to speake, if that you denye
My purpose, truely I am marde vtterly
So do I loue you, with all my hart entere
With inwarde care, I bye your beauty dere

I must abide, with all my whole entente
Of life or death, your onely iudgement
With fayned eares, of perfite audience
She did him heare, geuyng this sentence
Vyrgyll she saied, I woulde fayne you ease
Of your trouble, and of your great disease

But I wotte not howe, that it shoulde be
Without turnyng vs, to great dishonestie
If it be knowen, then bothe you and I
Shalbe reheyted at, full shamefully
But what for that, I haue me be thought
A prety craft, by me shalbe wrought.

Ye knowe my chamber, ioyneth to a wall
Being ryght hye, and a windowe withall
Soue at nyght, when all folke be at rest
I shall take a basket, as me thinketh best
And therto I shall, a longe coarde well tye
And from the windowe, let it downe priuely

Right so when it is, adowne on the ground
Ye may well enter, in it bothe hole and sounde
And my two maydens, the whiche secrete be
Shall anone helpe, to hale you vp with me

At a. xi. of the clocke, in the nyght so darke
They did appoint, for to fulfill this warke
He often thanked, her great gentilnes
And so departed, with great gladnes
And so he went, vnto his studye
Passyng the time, him selfe full merely

Tyll that the clocke, did strike aleuen,
Then to the wall, he went full euen
And founde the basket, at the grounde already
And entred into it, full sodaynlye
Waggyng the rope, whiche the lady espied
Whiche to the windowe, right anone her hied

With her two maydens, she did him vp winde
Amiddes the wall, and left him there behinde
That was fiue fadom, and more from the ground
When him selfe in suche a case he founde
Alas he saied, myne owne lady saue
Mine honestie, and what ye list to haue

Ye shall haue it, at your owne desire
Nowe winde me vp, my hart is on fire
Thou shalt quod she, in that place abide
That all the citye, so ryght long and wide
May the beholde, and the matter knowe,
For mine honesty, and thy shame I trowe

So there he hong, tyll noone of the daye That euery person, which went by the way