"Ich am," he seyde, "Cutbert, to be
ýcham ywend
"To brynge pe gode tỷtynges. Fram
God ycham ysend.

"Vor þat fole of þys lond to synne her wylle al geue,

"And gut nolle herto her synnes byleue "poru me & oper halewen, pat in pys lond were ybore;

"pan vor gou byddep God wanne we bep hým byuore,

"Hour Louerd mýd ys eyen of milce on be lokep peruore,

"And by poer pe wole gyue agen, þat þou ast ney verlore. "And pat pou þer of sop yse, pou ssalt abbe tokynynge.

-"Vor þým men, pat bep ago to day auyssynge,

"In lepes & in coufles so muche vyss hii ssolde hým brýnge, "þat ech man wondry ssal of so gret cacchynge.

"And þe mor vor þe harde vorste, þat pe water yfrore hys, "pat be more agen þe kunde of vyssynge

yt ys.

"Of serue yt wel agen God, and ÿlef me

ys messager,

"And pou ssall by wylle abyde, as ýcham ytold her.'

As pys kyng herof awoc, and of þys sygte pogte,

Hys výssares come to hým, & so gret won of fyss hým brogte, hat wonder yt was, & namelyche vor þe weder was so colde.

po lyuede pe god man wel, pat Seyn

Cutbert adde ytold.

In Deuenyssyre per after aryuede of Deney's pre & tuenty ssypuol men, allagen pe peys, be kynge's broper of Denemarch duc of

pe kyng & ys grete duke bygonne hem to gelde

To pe kyng Alfred to ys wylle, and ostages toke,

Vorto wende out of ys lond, gÿf he ýt wolde loke;

And gut perto, vor ys loue, to auonge Cristendom.

Kýng Gurmund, þe hexte kyng, vorst per to come.

Kýng Alfred ys godfader was. & ỷbaptýsed ek þer were

pretty of her hexte dukes. and muche of þat fole pere.

Kyng Alfred hem huld wyp hým tuelf dawes as he hende,

And suppe he gef hem large gyftes, and let hým wende.

Hii, þat nolde Cristyn be, of lande flowe po,

And byzonde see in France dude wel muche wo.

gut be ssrewen come agen, and muche wo here wrogte.

Ac pe kyng Alfred atte laste to ssame hem euere brogte.

Kyng Alfred was be wysost kyng, pat long was byuore.

Vor þey me segge pe lawes bep, in worre tyme vorlore,

Nas yt nogt so hiis daye. vor þey he in

worre were,

byuonde,

þat þer were hondredes in eche contreye of ys lond,

And in ech toune of pe hondred a teþynge were also,

And þat ech man wy boute gret lond in teþynge were ýdo,

The first of our authors, who can be properly said to have written English, was Sir John Gower, who, in his Confession of a Lover, calls Chaucer his disciple, and may therefore be looked upon as the father of our poetry.

NOWE for to speke of the commune,
It is to drede of that fortune,
Which hath befalle in sondrye londes:
But ofte for defaute of bondes
All sodeinly, er it be wist,
A tunne, when his lie arist
Tobreketh, and renneth all aboute,
Which els shulde nought gone out.
And eke full ofte a littell skare
Vpon a bank, er men be ware,

Let in the streme, whiche with gret peine,
If any man it shall restreine.
Where lawe failleth, errour groweth.
He is not wise, who that ne troweth.
For it hath proued oft er this,
And thus the common clamour is
In euery londe, where people dwelleth :
And eche in his complainte telleth,
How that the worlde is miswent,
And therevpon his argunfent
Yeueth euery man in sondrie wise:
But what man wolde him selfe auise
His conscience, and nought misuse,
He maie well at the first excuse
His God, whiche euer stant in one,
In him there is defaute none
So must it stand vpon vs selue,
Nought only vpon ten ne twelue,
But plenarly vpon vs all.

For man is cause of that shall fall.

ALAS! I wepying am constrained to. begin verse of sorow full matter, that whilom in florishyng studie made delitable ditees. For lo! rendyng muses of a Poetes enditen to me thinges to be writen, and drerie teres. At laste no drede ne might overcame tho muses, that thei ne weren fellowes, and foloweden my waie, that is to saie, when I was exiled, thei that weren of my youth whilom welfull and grene, comforten now sorrowfall weirdes of me olde man: for ele is

Geoffry Chaucer, who may, perhaps, with great justice, be styled the first of our versifiers who wrote poetically. He does not, however, appear to have deserved all the praise which he has received, or all the censure that he has suffered. Dryden, who, mistaking genius for learning, and in confidence of his abilities, ventured to write of what he had not examined, ascribes to Chaucer the first refinement of our numbers, the first production of easy and natural rhymes, and the improvement of our language, by words borrowed from the more polished languages of the continent. Skinner contrarily blames him in harsh terms for having vitiated his native speech by whole cartloads of foreign words. But he that reads the works of Gower will find smooth numbers and easy rhymes, of which Chaucer is supposed to have been the inventor, and the French words, whether good or bad, of which Chaucer is charged as the importer. Some innovations he might probably make, like others, in the infancy of our poetry, which the paucity of books does not allow us to discover with particular exactness; but the works of Gower and Lydgate sufficiently evince, that his diction was in general like that of his contemporaries: and some improvements he undoubtedly made by the various dispositions of his rhymes, and by the mixture of different numbers, in which he seems to have been happy and judicious. I have selected several specimens both of his prose and verse; and among them, part of his translation of Boetius, to which another version, made in the time of queen Mary, is opposed. It would be improper to quote very sparingly an author of so much reputation, or to make very large extracts from a book so generally known.

COLVILE.

I THAT in tyme of prosperite, and floryshyng studye, made pleasaunte and delectable dities, or verses; alas now be yng heauy and sad ouerthrowen in adnersitie, am ompelled to fele and tast heuines and greif. Beholde the muses Poeticall, that is to saye: the pleasure that is in poetes verses, do appoynt me, and compel me to writ these verses in meter, and the sorowful verses do wet my wretched face with very waterye teares, yssuinge out of my eyes for s

comen unwarely upon me, hasted by the harmes that I have, and sorowe hath commaunded his age to be in me. Heres hore aren shad overtimeliche upon my hed and the slacke skinne trembleth of mine empted bodie. Thilke deth of men is welefull, that he ne cometh not in yeres that be swete, but cometh to wretches often icleped! Alas, alas! with how defe an ere deth cruell turneth awaie fro wretches, and naieth for to close wepyng eyen. While fortune un-, faithfull favoured me with light godes, that sorowful houre, that is to saie, the deth, had almoste drente myne hedde: but now for fortune cloudie hath chaunged her decevable, chere to mewarde, myne unpitous life draweth along ungreable dwellynges. O ye my frendes, what, or whereto avaunted ye me to ben welfull? For he that hath fallin, stode in no stedfast degre.

IN the mene while, that I still record these thynges with my self, and marked my wepelie complainte with office of poinctell: I saugh stondyng aboven the hight of myn hed a woman of full grete reverence, by semblaunt. Her eyen brennyng, and clere, seyng over the common might of mènne, with a lively colour, and with soche vigour and strength that it ne might not be nempned, all were it so, that she were full of so grete age, that menne woulden not trowen in no manere, that she were of our elde. 49

The stature of her was of doutous judgemente, for sometyme she constrained and shronke her selven, like to the common mesure of menne: And sometyme it semed, that she touched the

.

rowe. Whiche muses no feare without doute could ouercome, but that they wold folow me in my iourney of exile or banishment. Sometyme the ioye of happy and lusty delectable youth dyd comfort me, and nowe the course of sorowfull olde age causeth me to reioyse. For hasty old age vnloked for is come vpon me with al her incommodities and euyls, and sorowe hath commaunded and broughte me into the same old age, that is to say: that sorowe causeth me to be olde, before my time come of olde age. The hoer heares do growe vntimely vpon my heade, and my reuiled skynne trembleth my flesh, cleane consumed and waste with sorowe. Mannes death is happy, that cometh not in youth, when a man is lustye, and in pleasure or welth: but in time of aduersitie, when it is often desyred. Alas Alas howe dull and deffe be the eares of cruel death vnto men in misery that would fayne dye and yet. refusythe to come and shutte vp theyr carefull wepyng eyes.. Whiles that false fortune fauoryd me with her transitorye goodes, then the howre of death had almost ouercome me. That is to say deathe was redy to oppresse me when I was in prosperitie. Nowe for by cause that fortune beynge turned, from prosperitie into aduersitie (as the clere day is darkyd with cloudes) and hath chaungyd her deceyuable countenaunce: my wretched life is yet prolonged, and doth continue in dolour. O my frendes, why haue you so often bosted me, sayinge that I was happy when I had honor possessions riches, and authoritie whych be transitory thynges. He that hath fallen was in no stedefast degre.

WHYLES that I considerydde pryuylye with my selfe the thynges before sayd, and descrybed my wofull complaynte after the maner and offyce of a wrytter, me thought I sawe a woman stand ouer my head of a reuerend countenaunce, hauyng quycke and glysteryng clere eye, aboue the common sorte of men in lyuely and delectable coloure, and ful of strength, although she semed so olde that by no meanes she is thought to be one of this oure tyme, her stature is of douteful knowledge, for nowe she shewethe herselfe at the commen length or statur of men, and other whiles she semeth so high, as though she touched heuen with the crown of her hed. And when she wold stretch fourth her hed hygher, it

heven with the hight of her hedde. And when she hove her hedde higher, she perced the self beven, so that the sight of menne- lokyng was in ydell: her clothes wer maked of right delie thredes, and subtel craft of perdurable matter. The whiche clothes she had woven with her owne handes, as I knewe well after by her self declaryng, and shewyng to me the beautie: The whiche clothes a darknesse of a forleten and dispised elde had dusked and darked, as it is wonte to darke by smoked Images.

In the netherest hemme and border of these clothes menne redde iwoven therein a Grekishe A. that signifieth the life active, and above that letter, in the hiest bordure, a Grekishe C. that signifieth the life contemplatife. And betwene these two letters there were seen degrees nobly wrought, in maner of ladders, by whiche degrees menne might climben from the netherest letter to the upperest: nathelesse handes of some men hadden kerve that clothe, by violence or by strength, and everiche manne of 'hem had borne awaie soche peces, as he might getten. And forsothe this forsaied woman bare smale bokes in her right hande, and in her left hand she bare a scepter. And when she sawe these Poeticall muses approchyng about my bed, and endityng wordes to my wepynges, she was a litle amoved, and glowed with aruell eyen. Who (q3 she) hath suffered approchen to this sike manne these commen strompettes, of which is the place that menne callen Theatre, the whiche onely ne asswagen not his sorowes with remedies, but thei would feden and norishe hym with swete venime? Forsothe, that ben tho that with thornes, and prickynges of talentes of affeccions, whiche that ben nothyng fructuous nor profitable, distroien the Corne, plentuous of fruictes of reson. For thei holden hertes of men in usage, but thei ne deliver no folke fro maladie. But if ye muses had withdrawen fro me with your flatteries any unconnyng and unprofitable manne, as ben wont to finde commenly emong the peple, I would well suffre the lasse grevously. For why, in soche an unprofitable man myn ententes were nothyng endamaged. But ye withdrowen from me this man, that hath ben nourished in my studies or scoles of Eleaticis, and of Academicis in Grece. But goeth now rather awaie ye Mermaidens, whiche that ben swete, till it be at the last, and suffreth this man

also perced thorough heauen, so that mens syghte coulde not attaine to behold her. Her vestures or cloths were perfyt of the finyste thredes, and subtyll workemanshyp, and of substaunce permanent, whych vesturs she had wouen with her own hands as I perceyued after by her owne saiynge. The kynde or beawtye of the whyche vestures, a certayne darknes or rather ignoraunce of oldenes forgotten hadde obscurýd and darkened, as the smoke is wont to darken Images that stand nyghe the smoke. In the lower parte of the said vestures was read the Greke letter P. wouen whych signifyeth practise or actyffe, and in the hygher parte of the vestures the Greke letter T. whych estandeth for theorica, that signifieth speculacion or contemplation. And betwene both the sayd letters were sene certayne degrees, wrought after the maner of ladders, wherein was as it were a passage or waye in steppes or degrees from the lower part wher the letter P. was which is vnderstand from praciys or actyf, unto the hygher parte, wher the letter T. was whych is vnderstand specula-. cion or contemplacion. Neuertheles the handes of some vyolente persones had cut the sayde vestures and had taken awaye: certayne pecis thereof, such as euery one! coulde catch. And she her selfe dyd. bare in her ryght hand litel bokes, and int her lefte hande, a scepter, which foresayd phylosophy (when she saw the muses poetycal present at my bed, spek-. yng sorowfull wordes to my wepynges) beyng angry sayd (with terrible or frownynge countenaunce) who suffred these crafty harlottes to com to thys sycke man? whych can help hym by no means of hys griefe by any kind of medicines, but rather increase the same with swete poyson. These be they that doo dystroye the fertile and plentious commodytyes of reason and the fruytes therof wyth their pryckynge thornes, or barren affectes, and accustome or subdue mens myndes with sickenes, and heuynes, and do not delyuer or heale them of the same. But yf your flatterye had conueyed or wythdrawen from me, any vnlernyd man as the comen sorte of people are wonte to be, I coulde haue ben better contentyd, for in that my worke should not be hurt or hynderyd. But you haue taken and conueyed from me thys man that hath ben broughte vp in the studyes of Aristotel and of Plato. But yet get you henc › maremaids (that seme swete untyll y m