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"Now God that art of trouth soveraine,
And seest how I lie for trouth bound,
So sore knit in loues fyrie chaine,

Euen at the death through gyrte with many a wound,
That likely are neuer for to sound,

And for my trouth am dampned to the death,
And not abyde, but draw along the breath:

"Consider and see in thine eternal right,
How that mine herte professed whilom was,
For to be trewe with all my full might,
Onely to one the which now alas,
Of volunte without any trespas,

My accusours hath taken vnto grace,
And cherisheth hem my death to purchace.

"What meaneth this? woat is this wonder ure? Of purueyaunce if I shall it call,

Of god of loue, that false hem so assure,
And trewe alas, downe of the whele ben fall,
And yet in sothe this is the worst of all,
That falshed wrongfully of troth hath the name,
And trouth ayenward of falshed beareth the blame.

This blind chaunce, this stormy aventure,
In loue hath most his experience,

For who that doth with trouth most his cure,
Shall for his mede finde most offence,
That serueth loue with all his diligence:
For who can faine vnder lowlyhede,
Ne fayleth not to finde grace and spede.

"For I loued one, full long sith agone,
With all mine herte, body and full might,
And to be deed my herte can not gone
From his heste, but hold that he hath hight,
Though I be banished out of her sight,
And by her mouth dampned that I shall dey,
Unto my hest, yet I will euer obey.

"For euer sith that the world began,
Who so liste looke, and in story rede,
He shall aye find that the trewe man
Was put abacke, whereas the falshede
Yfurthered was: for Loue taketh none hede
To slea the trew, and hath of hem no charge,
Where as the false gocth frely at hir large.

"I take record of Palamydes,
The trewe man, the noble worthy knight,
That euer loued, and of his paine no relees,
Notwithstanding his manhood and his might,
Loue vnto him did full great vnright,
For aye the bet he did in cheualrie,
The more he was hindred by enuie.

"And aye the better he did in euery place,
Through his knighthood and busie payne,
The ferder was he from his ladies grace,
For to her mercy might he neuer attayne,
And to his death he coud it not refrayne,
For no daungere, but aye obey and serue,
As he best coude, plainly till he sterue.

"What was the fine also of Hercules,
For all his conquest and his worthinesse,
That was of strength alone peerles,
For like as bookes of him list expresse,
He set pillers through his hye prowesse,
Away at Gades, for to signifie,

That no man might him passe in cheualrie.

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"The which pillers ferre beyond Inde,
Be set of gold, for a remembraunce:
And for all that was he set behinde,
With hem that loue list feebly auaunce,
For him set last vpon a daunce,
Against whom helpe may no strife,
For all his trouth he lost his life.
"Phebus also for his pleasaunt light,
Whan that he went here in yearth lowe,
Unto the herte with Uenus sight,
Ywounded was, through Cupides bowe,
And yet his lady list him not to knowe,
Though for her loue his herte did blede,
She let him go, and toke of him no hede.
"What shall I say of yonge Piramus?
Of trewe Tristram, for all his hye renowne,
Of Achilles, or of Antonius,

Of Arcite, or of him Palomoune,
What was the end of hir passioune,

But after sorow death, and than hir graue,
Lo here the guerdon that these louers haue.

"But false Jason with his doublenesse,
That was vntrewe at Colkos to Medee,
And Theseus, roote of vnkindnesse,
And with these two eke the false Enee.
Lo thus the false aye in one degree,
Had in loue hir lust and all hir will,

And saue falshood, there was none other skill.

"Of Thebes eke the false Arcite,
And Demophon eke for his slouth,
They had hir lust and all that might delite,
For all hir falshood and great vntrouth:
Thus euer Loue alas, and that is routh,
His false lieges forthereth what he may,
And sleeth the trewe vngoodly day by day.

"For trewe Adon was slaine with the bore,
Amidde the forest in the grene shade,
For Venus loue he felt all the sore,
But Vulcanus with her no mercy made,
The foule chorle had many nights glade,
Where Mars her knight and her man,
To find mercy comfort none he can.

"Also the yonge fresh Ipomedes,
So lustly free as of his corage,

That for to serue with all his herte he ches
Athalant, so faire of her visage,

But Loue alas quite him so his wage
With cruell daunger plainly at the last,
That with the death guerdonlesse he past.

"Lo here the fine of Loues seruice,
Lo how that Loue can his seruaunts quite,
Lo how he can his faithfull men dispise,
To slea the trewe men, and false to respite,
Lo how he doth the swerde of sorow bite
In hertes, soch as most his lust obey,
To saue the false and do the trewe dey.

"For faith nor othe, worde, ne assuraunce,
Trewe meaning, awaite, or businesse,
Still porte, ne faithfull attendaunce,
Manhood ne might in armes worthinesse,
Pursute of worship nor hie prowesse,
In straunge land riding ne trauaile,
Full litell or nought in loue doth auaile,

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"Perill of death, nor in see ne land,
Hunger ne thrust, sorow ne sicknesse,
Ne great emprises for to take in hand,
Sheding of blood, ne manfull hardinesse,
Ne oft wounding at sautes by distresse,
Nor in parting of life nor death also,
All is for nought, Loue taketh no heed thereto
"But lesings with hir flatterie,

Through hir falshede, and with hir doublenesse,
With tales new, and many fained lie,

By false semblaunt, and counterfeit humblesse,
Under colour depaint with stedfastnessc,
With fraud couered vnder a pitous face,
Accept be now rathest vnto grace.

"And can himselfe now best magnifie
With fained port and presumption,

They haunce hir cause with false surquidrie,
Under meaning of double entention,
To thinke one in hir opinion,

And say another, to set himselfe aloft,
And hinder trouth, as it is seene full oft.

"The which thing I buy now all too deare,
Thanked be Venus, and the god Cupide,
As it is seene by mine oppressed cheare,
And by his arrowes that sticken in my side,
That saue death I nothing abide
Fro day to day, alas the hard while,
Whan euer his dart that him list to file,

"My wofull herte for to riue atwo,
For faut of mercy, and lacke of pite
Of her that causeth all my paine and wo,
And list not ones of grace for to see
Unto my trouth through her cruelte,
And most of all I me complaine,
That she hath joy to laugh at my paine.

"And wilfully hath my death sworne,
All guiltlesse, and wote no cause why,
Saue for the trouth that I had aforne
To her alone to serue faithfully,
O god of loue, vnto thee I cry,
And to thy blind double deite,
Of this great wrong I complaine me.

"And vnto thy stormy wilfull variaunce,
Iment with change and great vnstablenesse,
Now vp, now down, so renning is thy chance,
That thee to trust may be no sikernesse,
I wite it nothing but thy doublenesse,
And who that is an archer, and is blend,
Marketh nothing, but shooteth by wend.

"And for that he hath no discretion,
Without aduise he let his arrow go,
For lacke of sight, and also of reason,
In his shooting it happeth oft so,
To hurt his friend rather than his fo,
So doth this god with his sharpe stone,
The trew sleeth, and letteth the false gone.

"And of his wounding this is the worst of all,
Whan he hurt doeth to so cruell wretch,
And maketh the sicke for to cry and call
Unto his foe for to be his leche,
And hard it is for a man to seche

Upon the point of death in jeoperdie,
Unto his foe to find a remedie.

"Thus fareth it now euen by me,

That to my foe that gaue my herte a wound,
Mote aske grace, mercy, and pite,
And namely there where none may be found,
For now my sore my leche will confound,
And god of kind so hath set mine ure,
My liues foe to haue my wound in cure.

"Alas the while now that I was borne,
Or that I euer saw the bright Sonne,
For now I see that full long aforne,
Or I was borne, my desteny was sponne
By Parcas sisterne, to slea me if they conne,
For they my death shopen or my shert,
Only for trouth, I may it not astert.

"The mighty goddesse also of Nature,
That vnder God hath the gouernaunce,
Of worldly things committed to her cure,
Disposed haue through her wise purueiance,
To giue my lady so much suffisaunce
Of all vertues, and therewithall puruide,
To murder trouth, bath take danger to gide.

"For bounte, beaute, shape, and seemelihede,
Prudence, wit, passingly fairenesse,
Benigne port, glad chere, with lowlihede,
Of womanhede right plenteous largenesse,
Nature did in her fully empresse,

Whan she her wrought, and alther last disdain,
To hinder trouth, she made her chamberlain.
"Whan mistrust also, and false suspection,
With misbeleue she made for to be
Cheefe of counsaile to this conclusion,
For to exile trouth, and eke pite,

Out of her court to make mercy flee,

So that dispite now holdeth forth her rein,
Through hasty bileue of tales that men fein.

"And thus I am for my trouth alas
Murdred and slain, with words sharp and kene,
Guiltlesse God wote of all trespas,
And lie and blede vpon this cold grene,
Now mercy swete, mercy my liues quene,
And to your grace of mercy yet I prey,
In your seruice that your man may dey.

"But if so be that I shall die algate,
And that I shall none other mercy haue,
Yet of my death let this been the date,
That by your wil I was broght to my graue,
Or hastely, if that you 'list. me saue,
My sharpe wounds that ake so and blede,
Of mercy charme, and also of womanhede.

"For other charme plainly is there none,
But only mercy, to helpe in this case,.
For though my wounds bleed euer in one,
My life, my death, standeth in your grace;
And though my guilt be nothing, alas,
I aske mercy in all my best entent,
Ready to die, if that ye assent.

"For there against shall I neuer striue
In word ne werke, plainely I ne may,
For leuer I haue than to be aliue
To die soothly, and it be to her pay,
Ye though it be this same day,
Or whan that euer her list to deuise,
Suffiseth me to die in your seruise.

"And God, that knowest the thought of euery wight
Right as it is, in euery thing thou maist see,
Yet ere I die, with all my full might,
Lowly I pray to graunt vnto mee,
That ye goodly, faire, fresh, and free,
Which onely slea me for default of routh,
Or that I die, ye may know my trouth.

"For that in sooth sufficeth me,
And she it know in every circumstaunce,
And after I am well paid that she

If that her list of death to do vengeaunce
Unto me, that am vnder her lygeaunce,
It sit me not her doome to disobey,
But at her lust wilfully to dey.

"Without grutching or rebellion
In will or word, holy I assent,
Or any manner contradiction,
Fully to be at her commaundement,
And if I die in my testament
My herte I send, and my spirit also,
What so ever she list with hem to do.

"And alderlast to her womanhede,
And to her mercy me I recommaund,
That lie now here betwixe hope and drede,
Abiding plainly what she list commaund,
For utterly this nis no demaund

Welcome to me while me lasteth breath,
Right at her choice, where it be life or death.

"In this matter more what might I saine,
Sith in her hand, and in her will is all,
But life and death, my joy, and all my paine,
And finally my best hold I shall,
Till my spirit by desteny fatall,
Whan that her list fro my body wend,

Haue here my trouth, and thus I make an end."

And with that word he gan sigh as sore,
Like as his herte riue would atwaine,
And held his peace, and spake no word more,
But for to see his wo and mortal paine,
The teares gonne fro mine eyen raine
Full pitously, for very inward roth,
That I him saw, so long wishing for troth.

And all this while my selfe I kepte close
Among the bowes, and my selfe gonne hide,
Till at the last the wofull man arose,
And to a lodge went there beside,
Where all the May his custome was tabide,
Sole to complaine of his paines kene,
From yere to yere, under the bowes grene.

And for bicause that it drew to the night,
And that the Sunne his arke diurnal
Ypassed was, so that his persaunt light,
His bright beams and his streams all
Were in the waues of the water fall,
Under the bordure of our occian,

His chaire of gold, his course so swiftly ran:

And while the twilight and the rowes rede
Of Phebus light were deaurat alite,
A penne I tooke, and gan me fast spede
The wofull plaint of this man to write,
Word by word, as he did endite,

Like as I heard, and coud hem tho report,
I haue here set, your hertes to disport.

If ought be misse, lay the wite on me, For I am worthy for to beare the blame, If any thing misse reported be,

To make this ditie for to seeme lame,

Through mine unconning, but for to sain the same, Like as this manne his complaint did expresse,

I aske mercy and forgiuenesse.

And as I wrote, me thought I saw aferre,
Ferre in the west lustely appere
Esperus the goodly bright sterre,

So glad, so faire, so persaunt eke of chere,

I mean Uenus with her beames clere,
That heauy hertes only to releue,

Is wont of custome for to shew at eue.

And I as fast fell adown on my knee,
And euen thus to her gan I to prey:

"O lady Uenus so faire upon to see,
Let not this man for his trouth dey,
For that joy thou haddest whan thou ley
With Mars thy knight, whan Uulcanus fond,
And with a chaine unvisible you bond

"Togider both tway in the same while,
That all the court aboue celestiall,
At your shame gan laugh and smile:
Ah, faire lady welly fond at all,
Comfort to carefull, O goddesse immartall,
Be helping now, and do thy diligence,
To let the streames of thine influence

"Descend downe, in forthering of the trouth,
Namely of hem that lie in sorrow bound,
Shew now thou might, and on hir wo haue routh,
Ere false daunger slea hem and confound:
And specially let thy might be found,
For so to couer what so that thou may
The true man that in the herber lay.

"And all true forther for his sake,
O glad sterre, O lady Uenus mine,
And cause his lady him to grace take,
Her herte of stele to mercy so encline,
Ere that thy bemes go vp to decline,
And ere that thou now go fro us adoun,
For that loue thou haddest to Adoun."

And whan she was gone to her rest,
I rose anone, and home to bed went,
For weary, me thought it for the best,
Praying thus in all my best entent,
That all trew, that be with daunger shent,
With mercy may in release of hir paine,
Recured be, ere May come efte againe.

And for that I ne may no lenger wake,
Farewell ye louers all that be trew,
Praying to God, and thus my leue I take,
That ere the Sunne to morrow be risen new,
And ere he haue ayen rosen hew
That each of you may haue such a grace,
His owne lady in armes to embrace.

I meane thus, in all honesty,

Without more ye may togider speake
What so ye list at good liberty,
That each may to other hir herte breke,
On jelousies onely to be wreke,

That hath so long of his mallice and enuy
Werred trouth with his tiranny.

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LENUOYE.

Princesse, pleaseth it to your benignitie
This little ditie to haue in mind,
Of womanhede also for to see,
Your man may your mercy find,

And pity eke, that long hath be behind,
Let him againe be provoked to grace,
For by my trouth it is against kind,
False daunger to occupy his place.

Go little quaire vnto my lives queene
And my very hertes soueraine,
And be right glad for she shall the seene,
Such is thy grace, but I alas in paine
Am left behind, and not to whom to plaine,
For mercy, ruth, grace, and eke pite
Exiled be, that I may not attaine,
Recure to find of mine adversite.

EXPLICIT.

A PRAISE OF WOMEN.

ALTHO thee list of women evill to speak,
And sain of hem worse than they deserve,
I pray to god that hir neckes to break,

Or on some evil death mote tho janglers sterve
For every man were holden hem to serve,
And do hem worship, honour, and servise,
In every manner that they best coud devise.

For we ought first to think on what manere
They bring vs forth, and what pain they endure
First in our birth, and sith fro yere to yere
How busely they done their busie cure,
To keepe vs fro every misaventure
In our youth whan we have no might

Our selfe to keepe, neither by day nor night.

Alas, how may we say on hem but wele,
Of whom we were fostred and ybore,
And ben all our succour, and ever true as stele,
And for our sake full oft they suffer sore,
Without women were all our joy lore,
Wherfore we ought all women to obey
In all goodnesse, I can no more say,

This is well knowne, and hath ben or this,
That women ben cause of all lightnesse,
Of knighthood, norture, eschuing all mallis,
Encrease of worship, and of all worthinesse, [nesse,
Thereto curteis and meke, and ground of all good-
Glad and merry, and true in every wise
That any gentill herte can thinke or devise.

And though any would trust to your vntruth,
And to your faire words would aught assent,
In good faith me thinketh it wer great ruth,
That other women shuld for hir gilt be shent,
That never knew, ne wist nought of hir entent,
Ne list not to heare tho faire words ye write,
Which ye you paine fro day to day tendite.
But who may beware of your tales vntrue,
That ye so busily paint and endite,
For ye will swere that ye never knew,
Ne saw the woman, neither much ne lite,
Save only her, to whom ye had delite,
As for to serve of all that ever ye sey,
And for her love must ye needs dey.

Than will ye swere that ye knew never before
What Love was, ne his dredfull observaunce,
But now ye feele that he can wound sore,
Wherfore ye put you into her governaunce,
Whom Love hath ordeind you to serve and do ple-
With al your might your little lives space, [sance
Which endeth soone, but if she do you grace.

And than to bed will he soone draw,
And soone sicke ye will you than faine,
And swere fast your lady hath you slaw,
And brought you suddainly in so high a paine
That fro your death may no man you restraine,
With a daungerous looke of her eyen two,
That to your death must ye needs go.

Thus will ye morne, thus will ye sigh sore,
As though your herte anon in two wold brest,
And swere fast that ye may live no more,
Mine owne lady, that might if ye lest
Bring mine herte somedele into rest,
As if you list mercy on me to have,
Thus your vntrouth will ever mercy crave.

Thus woll ye plain, tho ye nothing smert,
These innocent creatures for to beguile,
And swere to hem, so wounded is your herte
For hir love, that ye may live no while.
Scarsly so long as one might go a mile,
So hieth death to bring you to an end,
But if your soverain lady list you to amend.

And if for routh she comfort
you in any wise
For pity of your false othes sere,
So that innocent weneth that it be as you devise,
And weneth your herte be as she may here,
Thus for to comfort and somwhat do you chere:
Than woll these janglers deme of her full ill,
And saine that ye have her fully at your will.

Lo how ready hir tonges been, and prest
To speake harme of women causelesse,
Alas, why might ye not as well say the best,
As for to deme hem thus guiltlesse,
In your herte iwis there is no gentilnesse,
That of your own gilt list thus women fame,
Now by my trouth, me think ye be too blame.

For of women cometh this worldly wele,
Wherfore we ought to worship hem evermore,
And though it mishap one, we ought for to hele,
For it is all through our false lore,
That day and night we paine vs evermore
With many an oth, these womeu to beguile
With false tales, and many a wicked wile.

And if falshede should be reckened and told
In womeu, iwis full trouth were,
Not as iu men, by a thousand fold,
Fro all vlces iwis they stand cleare,
In any thing that I could of heare,
But if enticing of these men it make,
That hem to flatteren connen never slake.

I would fain wete where euer ye coud here,
Without mens tising, what women did amis,
Forther ye may get hem, ye lie fro yere to yere
And many a gabbing ye make to hem iwis,
For I could neuer heare, ne knowen ere this,
Where euer ye coud find in any place,
That euer women besought you of grace.

There ye you pain, with all your ful might,
With all your herte, and all your businesse,
To pleasen hem both by day and night,
Praying hem of hir grace and gentilnesse,
To haue pitie upon your great distresse,
And that they would on your paine haue routh,
And slea you not, sens ye meane but trouth.

Thus may ye see that they ben faultlesse,
And innocent to all your werkes slie,
And all your crafts that touch falsenesse,
They know hem not, ne may hem not espie,
So sweare ye, that ye must needs die,
But if they would of hir womanhead
Upon you rew, ere that ye be dead.

And than your lady, and your hertes queene
Ye call hem, and therewith ye sighe sore,
And say, "My lady I trow that it be seene
In what plite that I haue liued full yore,
But now I hope that ye woll no more
In these paines suffer me for to dwell,
For all goodnesse iwis ye be the well."

Lo which a painted processe can ye make,
These harmlesse creatures for to beguile,
And whan they slepe, ye paine you to wake,
And to bethinke you on many a wicked wile,
But ye shall see the day that ye shall curse the
That ye so busily did your entent

Hem to beguile, that falshed neuer meant.

For this ye know wel, though I would lie,
In women is all trouth and stedfastnesse,
For in good faith I neuer of hem sie
But much worship, bountie, and gentilnesse,
Right comming, faire, and full of meeknesse,
Good and glad, and lowly I you ensure,
Is this goodly angellike creature

[while

And if it hap a man be in disease,
She doeth her businesse, and her full paine
With al her might, him to confort and please
If fro his disease she might him restraine,
In word ne deed ywis she woll not faine,
But with all her might she doth her businesse
To bring him out of his heauinesse,

Lo what gentillesse these women baue,
If we could know it for our rudenesse,
How busie they be us to keepe and saue,
Both in heale, and also in sicknesse,
And alway right sorrie for our distresse,
In euery manner, thus shew they routh,
That in hem is all goodnesse and trouth.

And sith we find in hem gentilnesse and trouth,
Worship, bountie, and, kindnesse euermore,
Let neuer this gentillesse throgh your slouth
In hir kind trouth be aught forlore
That in women is, and hath ben full yore,
For in reuerence of the Heauens queene,
We ought to worship all women that beene.

For of all creatures that euer wer get and borne,
This wote ye well a woman was the best,
By her was recouered the blisse that we had lorne,
And through the woman shall we come to rest,
And ben ysaued, if that our selfe lest,

Wherefore me thinketh, if that we had grace,
We oughten honour women in every place.

Therefore I rede, that to our liues end,
Fro this time forth, while that we haue space,
That we haue trespaced, pursue to amend,
Praying our ladie well of all grace

To bring us unto that blisful place,

There as she and all good women shal be in fere In Heauen aboue, among the angels clere.

EXPLICIT.

THE HOUSE OF FAME.

In this book is shewed how the deeds of all men and women, be they good or bad, are carried by report to posterity.

GOD tourne us euery dream to good,
For it is wonder thing by the rood
To my wit, what causeth sweuens
On the morrow, or on euens,

And why the effect followeth of some,
And of some it shal neuer come,
Why that it is an auision,
And why this is a reuelation,

Why this a dreame, why that a sweuen,
And not to euery man liche euen,
Why this a fantome, why that oracles,
I not: but who so of these miracles
The causes know bet than I,
Define he, for I certainely
Ne can hem not, ne neuer thinke
To busie my wit for to swinke
To know of hir significations
The gendres, ne distinctions

Of the times of hem, ne the causes,
Or why this is more than that is,
Or yeue folkes complexions,
Make hem dreame of reflections,
Or else thus, as other saine,
For the great feeblenesse of hir brain,
By abstinence, or by sicknesse,
Prisou, strife or great distresse,
Or els by disordinaunce,
Or natural accustomaunce,
That some men be too curious
In studie, or melancolius,
Or thus, so inly full of drede,
That no man may him bote rede,
Or els that deuotion
Of some, and contemplation,
Causen such dreames oft,
Or that the cruell life vnsoft
Of hem that loues leden,
Oft hopen much or dreden,
That purely hir impressions
Causen hem to haue visions,
Or if spirits han the might
To make folke to dreame on night,
Or if the soule of proper kind,
Be so perfite as meu find,
That it wote what is to come,
And that he warneth all and some
Of eueriche of hir auentures,
By auisions, or by figures,

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