A man to go the siker weie,
Bet is to yivé than to take,
With yifte a man may frendés make,
But who that taketh or great or small,
He taketh a chargé forth with all
And stant nought fre til it be quit.
So for to deme in mannés wit,
It helpeth more a man to have
His owné good than for to crave
Of other men and make him bonde
Wher ellés he may stond unbonde.
Senec counseileth in this wise
And saith But if the good suffice
Unto the liking of the will,
Withdrawe thy lust and hold the still
And be to thy good suffisaúnt,
For that thing is appurtenaunt
To trouthe and causeth to be fre
After the reule of charité,
Which first beginneth of him selve.
For if thou richest other twelve,
Wherof thou shalt thy self be pouer,
I not what thank thou might recouer.
While that a man hath good to yive,
With greaté routés he may live
And hath his frendés over all,
And everich of him tellé shall,
The while he hath his fullé packe
They say, 'A good feláw is Jacke.'
But whan it faileth atté last,

Anone his prise they overcast,
For than is there none other lawe,
But Jacké was a good felawe.'
Whan they him pouer and nedy se,
They let him passe and fare well he;
Al that he wend of compaignie
Is thanné torned to folie.

"But now to speke in other kinde
Of Love, a man may suché finde,
That where they come in every rout,
They cast and wast her love about
Till all her time is overgone,
And thanné have they lové none.
For he that loveth over all,
It is no reson that he shall

Of love have any propreté.
Forthý my sone, avisé the,
If thou of love hast ben to large;
For suche a man is nought to charge.
And if it so be, that thou hast
Despended al thy time in wast
And set thy love in sondry place,
Though thou the substaunce of thy
grace

Lese at the last, it is no wonder,
For he that put him selven under
As who saith comun over all,
He leseth the lové speciall
Of any one, if she be wise.
For lové shall nought bere his prise
By reson, whan it passeth one.
So have I sen full many one,
That were of lové wel at ese,
Which after fell in great disese
Through wast of lové, that they spent
In sondry places where they went.
Right so, my sone, I axe of the,
If thou with prodegalité

Hast here and there thy lové wasted?"

"My fader, nay, but I have tasted In many a place as I have go, And yet love I never one of tho But for to drivé forth the day. For leveth well, my hert is ay Withouté mo for evermore All upon one, for I no more Desiré but her love alone. So make I many a privé mone, For well I fele I have despended My longé love and nought amended My spede, for ought I findé yit. If this be wast, unto your wit, Of love and prodegalité, Now, godé fader, demeth ye. But of o thing I woll me shrive, That I shall for no lové thrive But if her self me woll releve.""My soné, that I may well leve,1 1 Leve, believe.

be greté sinne originall,

1

Which every man in general Upon his birth hath envenímed, In Paradis it was mistimed, Whan Adam of thilke appel bote, His sweté morcel was to hote, Which dedly 1 made the mankinde. And in the bokés as I finde This Vicé, which so out of reule Hath set us all, is clepéd Gule, Of which the braunchés ben so great That of hem all I wol nought treat, But only as touchénd of two I thenké speke and of no mo. Wherof the first is Dronkéship Which bereth the cuppé felaship. Ful many a wonder doth this Vice, He can make of a wisman nice, And of a fool that him shall seme That he can all the lawé deme And yiven every jugémént Which longeth to the firmament Both of the sterre and of the mone. And thus he maketh a great clerk

sone

Of him that is a lewdé man.
There is no thing, whiche he ne can
While he hath dronkéship on honde,
He knoweth the see, he knoweth
the stronde,

He is a noble man of armes,And yet no strength is in his armes. 1 Dedly, mortal.

There he was stronge inow to-fore
With dronkéship it is forlore,
And all is chaungéd his estate
And wext anone so feble and mate,1
That he may nouther go ne come,
But all to-gider he is benome 2
The power both of honde and fote
So that algate abide he mote,
And all his wittés he foryete.
The which is to him such a lete 3
That he wot never what he doth,
Ne which is fals ne which is soth,
Ne which is day ne which is night,
As for the time he knoweth no wight 4
That he ne wot so moch as this—
What maner thing him selven is
Or he be man or he be beste.
That holde I right a sory feste,
Whan he that reson understode
So sodeinlich is woxé wode
Or elles lich the dedé man
Which nouther go ne speké can.
Thus ofte he is to beddé brought,
But where he lith yet wot he nought,
Till he arise upon the morwe
And than he saith, 'O, which a sorwe
It is for to be drinkéles,'
So that half drunke in such a rees
With drié mouth he sterte him up
And saith, 'Now baillez ça the cuppe.'

1 Mate, dull, flat. 2 Benome, deprived of. 3 Lete, hindrance. No wight, no whit.

That made him lese his wit at eve
Is than a morwe all his beleve,
The cuppe is all that ever him pleseth
And also that him most diseseth,
It is the cuppé whom he serveth,
Which allé carés from him kerveth
And all the balés to him bringeth.
Injoy he wepeth, in sorwe he singeth,
For dronkéship is so divers

It may no whilé stonde invers,
He drinketh the wine, but atté last
The wine drinketh him and bint
him fast

And laith him drunké by the walle
As him which is his bondé thralle
And all in his subjectión.
And lich to such condición
As for to speke it otherwise
It falleth, that the mosté wise
Ben other while of Love adoted
And so bewhappéd and assoted 1
Of dronken men that never yit
Was none which half so lost his wit
Of drinke, as they of such thing do
Which cleped is the jolif wo,
And waxen of her owné thought
So drunké that they knowé nought,
What reson is, or more or lesse.
Such is the kinde of that siknesse,
And that is nought for lacke of
braine,

But Love is of so great a maine 2 That where he taketh a herte on honde,

There may no thing his might withstonde.

The wisé Salomon was nome,
And strongé Sampson overcome,
The knightly David him ne might
Rescoué that he with the sight
Of Bersabé ne was bestade.
Virgile also was overlade,
And Aristotle was put under.

1 Bewhappéd and assoted, knocked over and besotted.

2 Maine, strength.

"Forthy my sone, it is no wonder, If thou be drunke of Love amonge, Which is above all other stronge. And if so is that thou so be, Tell me thy shrift in privété, It is no shame of such a thewe A yong man to be dronkelewe. Of such phisíque I can a parte, And as me semeth by that arte Thou shuldest by phisonomý Be shapen to that maladý Of lové drunk, and that is routhe."

"Ha, holy fader, all is trouthe That ye me telle, I am beknowe, That I with Love am so bethrowe 1 And al min herte is so through sunke

That I am veriliché drunke,

And yet I may both speke and go.
But I am overcome so
And tornéd fro my self so clene
That oft I wot nought what I mene,
So that excusen I ne may
My herté fro the firsté day
That I cam to my lady kith.2
I was yet sobre never sith,
Where I her se or se her nought;
With musing of min owné thought
Of love which min herte assaileth
So drunke I am that my wit faileth
And all my braine is overtorned,
And my maneré so mistorned,
That I foryete all that I can
And stondé like a maséd man,
That ofté whan I shuldé play
It maketh me drawe out of the way
In solein 4 placé by my selve,
As doth a laborér to delve
Which can no gentilmannés chere,5
Or ellés as a lewdé frere,

Whan he is put to his penaunce,

1 Bethrowe, cast down.

2 Cam kith, became known.

3 Where, whether.

4 Solein, single.

5 Who knows nothing of the good manners

of a gentleman.