The Middle English Seven Sages of Rome

This boke ys callyd the Seven Sages of Rome

[Prologue]

fol. 3rHerkenythe lordynges curteys and hende Howe thys gentylle geste shalle ende. Sum tyme there was an emperoure That ladde hys lyfe with moche honowre; lineE5Hys name was Dioclician, And was a wonder riche man, And was emperoure of Rome, A nobylle man and a wyse of dome. He hadde a emporas to wyfe, lineE10Men wyste non fayrer on lyve. A sone they hadde hym bytwyne, Noo fayrer chylde ne myght bene. But soone aftyr thenne The emporas dyde and went henne. lineE15The chylde wax to seven yere olde, Wyse of speche ande dedys bolde, Florentyne hys name was. Herkenythe nowe a wonder cas! Hys fadyr was olde and ganne to hoore, lineE20His sone thoo he sette to lore, And lette byfore hym com sone The seven sagys that were yn Rome. To hem he thought his sone take Forto knowe the letters blacke, lineE25For they were wysyst men leryde That were amonge alle mydylerthe. The emperoure sayde anon To the maysterys everychone: “Whiche of you wille take my sone lineE30To teche hym wysdome as ye cone?”

Bancillas thoo spake byfore, The eldyste man with lockys hoore, And sayde: “Certys, take me thy sone, And moche thonke I wylle thee cone, lineE35And I wylle teche thee alle the lawys fol. 3vThat I canne and my felowys. That dar I, syre, take yn honde In seven yere, I understonde.”

Sone in a while aftyr that lineE40A mayster spake of sympylle state, Nothyr the moste, nothyr the leste, But as hym semyd aldyr beste. Anxulles was hys ryght name, A better clerke was non of fame. lineE45“Syr,” he sayde to the emperoure, “Take me thy sone, peramoure, And as y am a trewe man, I shalle teche hym that I canne, And that my felowys canne alleso, lineE50In sex yere withowtyn anny moo.”

The thridde mayster was a lyght man With lovesum lere as whytte as swanne. Hys here was cryspe and noo thyng rous, His name was callyd Lentyllous. lineE55He sayde anon to the kyng: “Take sone thyne into my kepyng And I wylle swere thee an othe: That I can and my felowys bothe Uppon payne of lemys and lyfe, lineE60I shalle teche hym in yerys five.”

The fourth mayster a red man was, Men hym callyd Malquydras. He was but of fiften yere olde, He was a wysse man and a bolde. lineE65“Syr,” he sayde, “nowe herkenythe unto me, My felowys wyt ys nott in me, Nothyr of hyr wyt in noo wyse I wylle not make noo marchantyse. But take me thy sone, syr emperoure, lineE70And I shalle hym teche in yerys four fol. 4rAl that I canne of clergye, Of mone and sterre and of the skye.”

The fifte mayster was wyse of dome, Hys name was callyd Catonne of Rome. lineE75He made Catonne, iwys, That many a chylde of-leryde ys. And “syr,” he sayde unto the kynge, “Take thy sone unto my techynge. I wylle that he be nought betaughte. lineE80Thy sonys wyt ne knowe I noughte, Nothyr of hys age, nothyr of hys blode, But, syr, I shalle teche hym goode, Also moche thoroughe Goddys sonde As he may welle understonde lineE85And as hys wit wylle hym helpe — Othyrwyse wylle I not yelpe — So that by the ende of seven yere No chylde noowhere shalle be hys pere.”

The sexte mayster spake thoo anon, lineE90The fayryste man of everychon. Gesse was hys name hote, A comely man fro toppe to foote. “Syr,” he sayde to the kynge, “Take me thy sone so yonge. lineE95I shalle teche hym in yerys thre Al that I canne whythe herte free, And so ye shulle, syr, for hys lore bolde, Evyrmore to me beholde.”

The sevende mayster hette Maxious, lineE100A ryght wyse man and a vertuous. Al his lyf with moche honowre He hadde servyde the emperoure. “Syr,” he sayde, “in alle wyse, fol. 85raFor the mede of mi servise, lineA121Tac me thi sone to loke and lore — Of mi servise kep I nammore — And I thee wille thonke conne, And al the clergie under sonne line125Ich wille into his bodi dight, Bothe bi dai and bi night.”

Dioclician the maistres herde, He strok his berd and schok his yerde, And on hem made milde chere, line130And spak that hi alle mighte ihere: “Thonke I you kan, gode lordingges, Of youre gentil answerungges. I kan you thonke of youre speche, That ye desire mi sone to teche. line135Youre compaignie is fair and gent, Nel ich hit departe, verraiment.” He tok his sone bi the hond anon And bitaughte him to hem everichon. Thai underfengen him with cher blithe line140And thonged him a thousand sithe. The seven wise with gret glorie That child ladde to consistorie, That is a stede withinne Rome Ther men maketh wise dome. line145This seven wise men in boke Here conseil there togider toke That he scholde nowt in Rome bilave, For burgeis, maiden, other knave Mighte him in som riot sette, line150That al his lore he scholde lette. Ther thai toke togideres alle Thai wolde make a riche halle Withouten Rome in on verger A mile thennes bi o river — line155Tiber hit hatte withouten dout — A mile long al about. Alle tres therinne were That ani frut an erthe bere. Amideward thai founden a space, line160An evene and a grene place. Therinne thai set an halle anon Bothe of lim and of ston. Quaire hit was with chaumbres sevene, fol.85rbWas non fairer into hevene. line165The halle was a midewerd, The fairest of this midelerd. Therinne was paint of Donet thre pars, And eke alle the seven ars. The firste so was grammarie, line170Musike and astronomie, Geometrie and ars metrike, Rettorike and ek fisike. The segh was in the halle The ars to bihelden alle. line175Whan o maister him let another him tok. He was ever upon his bok, And to his lore tok gret kepe, But whan he ete other he slepe. The ferthe yer, hit was no dout, line180With his maister he gan to despout. The fifte yer he gan argument Of the sterre and of the firmament. Thei wolde prove in the sexte yer Yif he ware wis and wer. line185Leves thai tok sextene Of ivy that were grene. Under ech stapel of his bed That he niste four thai hid. The child yede to bedde anight line190And ros arliche amorewen, aplight. Hise maistres him bifore stode, Open hefd, withouten hode. The child lokede here and tar, Up and doun and everi whar. line195Hise maistres askede wat him was. “Par fai,” he seide, “a ferli cas. Other ich am of wine dronke, Other the firmament is isonke, Other wexen is the grounde line200The thiknes of four leves rounde. So muche tonight heyer I lai, Certes, thanne yisterdai.” The maistres tho wel understode He coude inow of alle gode. line205The sevende yer so tok he on, He passede his maistres everichon. Togider thai made gret solas, fol. 85vaAc sone hem fil a ferli cas.

Dioclician that was in Rome, line210A riche man and wis of dome, Hise barons comen to him on a dai, And: “Sire, par nostre fai, Ye libbeth an a lenge lif. Ye scholde take a gentil wif line215That you might som solas do And bigeten children mo. Inow ye habben of werldes won To make hem riche everichon.” Themperour was wel ipaied line220With that the barons had seid. Sone he let him purvai An emperice of gret noblai. He went himself and sent his sond Widewhar into fele lond line225Fort that thai ani founde A dammeisele of gret mounde. Thai brouwte here tofore themperour. He segh sche was of feir colour; He wot sche was of hegh parage. line230Anon thai asked the mariage. Thai weren iwedded bi commun dome Anon in the gise of Rome, And lovede hem thourg alle thing. Herkneth nou a selli tiding! line235Thing ihid ne thing istole Ne mai nowt longe be forhole. Ne thing mai forhole be But Godes owen priveté. Som squier or som serjant nice line240Had itold themperice Al of themperoures sone, Hou he with the maistres wone. And hire schildre scolde be bastards, And he schal have al the wardes line245Under hest and under hond Of thempire and al the lond. Than couthe sche bothe qued and god And sone sche gan to pekke mod, And thoughte, so stepmoder doth, line250Into falsenesse to torne soth, And brew swich a beverage fol. 85vbThat scholde Florentin bicache. Ac mani weneth other to herte And on hemselve falleth al the smerte.

line255Themperour and his wif, That he lovede als his lif, In chaumbre togidere thai sete. Gladliche thai dronke and ete. “Sire,” she saide, “gentil emperour, line260I thee love with fin amour And thou nowt me, sikerli. Sire, ihc wil telle thee whi. Seve yer hit is that thou me nome And made me emperice of Rome, line265Thi make at bord and at bedde, And o thing thou hast fram me hedde: Thou hast a sone to scole itaught. Lat me him se; warn me him naught. Hit is thi sone and thin air, line270A wis child and a fair. Thi most time thou hast ben kyng, Thou drawest fast to thin ending. Fond we, sire, in joie libbe, And have joie of oure sibbe. line275For thi sone I tel mine Alse wel als tou dost thine. Paraventure hit mai falle so That never eft ne tit us mo. Yif thou me lovest ani wight, line280Let me of him han a sight.” “Certes, dame,” seide themperour, “Hit ne schal nowt be long sojour. Tomorewe ar undertide of dai Thou schalt him sen, par ma fai.” line285And sche seide with chere blithe: “Graunt merci, sire, a thousend sithe.”

Amorewe themperour gan rise And clothed him in riche gise. Messagers he clepede to line290And quik thai com toforn him bo. He scharged hem with his message And bad hem grete the seven sage. “And seieth hem, with wordes bonair, Mi sone that thai atire fair, line295And brenge him hom in faire manere, fol. 86raFor ich wil quik of him here, Hou he had sped this seve yer. Me thinketh longe that ner er.” The messagers anon forht sprong — line300I not bi waie yif thai song — Til thai come to that inne Ther the maistres woned inne. And as we finden writen in bok, Aither other be the hond tok, line305And in thai wente right evene, And founde the maistres alle sevene Disputend in hire Latyn With that child Florentyn. The messagers on knes hem sette line310And the seven wise thai grette In themperours bihelve, And the child be himselve, And seide that emperour het His sone that thai bringge him sket line315To Rome toun to his presens. “Your travail and youre despens He wil aquite for ech a yer, After that yhe worthi wer.” The messagers were welcome, line320And bi the hond quik ynome, And at the mete tales hem telde, What the sonne gan to helde. Hout wente the maistres sevene And bihelden up toward hevene. line325Thai seghe the constillacioun; The wisest in that so was Katoun. He gan to loke in the mone And seide that him thoughte sone. “Lordinges,” he saide, “for Godes sond, line330To mi telling understond. Themperour to ous had sent To brenge him his sone gent. Yif we him bring biforn our lord, He sterveth ate ferste word line335That he schal in court speke. Thanne he wil of ous be wreke, To drawe ous other to hongi sone. This I se wel in the mone.” The other saide withouten oth fol. 86rbThat Catoun hem saide soht.

line341Schild Florentin was lered in boke And in a ster he gan to loke Whiche that sat next the mone, And saide that him thoughte sone — line345That he wist thourgh alle thing Of that sterre the toknyng. Thanne saide the maistres to Florentin: “What sextou, leve child, tharin?” He seide: “Maister, I schal wel liven. line350Yif I mai this daies seven Kepe me fram answering, I mai live to god ending, And savve me to warisoun, And you fram destruccioun.” line355The maistres han wel devise The childes tale was god and wise. Than seide maister Bancillas: “Her is now a ferli cas. Counseil we al her upon line360Hou that we mai best don.” Than saide the schild: “saunz fail, Ich you right wil counseil. This seven daies I nel nowt speke, Nowt o word of mi mowht breke. line365And ye beth maistres gode and wise, In al this werld of mest prise. Litel ye conne, par ma fai, But echon of yo mai save me a dai. The aighteden dai ich me selve, line370So the ax pelt in the helve That schal hewe the wai atwo That had wrout me this wo.” Than saide maister Bancillas: “So God me helpe and Seint Nicholas, line375I schal thee waranti o dai.” “And I,” quath Catoun, “par ma fai, Schal thee warant another also.” Alle the maistres speken tho; Thai wald with wit and resoun line380Save the child fram destruccioun, Fram schame and fram vilani. “Maistres,” he saide, “graunt merci. Certes, hit bihoveth so, fol. 86vaFor I sschal tholi mochel wo, line385Gret despit and strong turment, But ye be queinte of argument.” With this word thai ben alle Departed and comen to halle, And maked at ese the messagers line390With god semblant and glade chers. And whan hit com to time of night, To riche bed thai were idight, And Florentin the schild also To his bed he gan to go, line395And thought al night her and tar, Hou that he might be wis and war To overcome the emperice, That he nere nowt iholden nice.

[Day 1]

The night passeth, the dai comen is, line400The seven maistres arisen, iwis. The maistres and the messagers Habbeth greithed here destrers And that schild wel fair idight, And went hem forht anonright. line405Thai dede hem out of that gardin That is icleped the bois of Seint Martin And here way toke to Rome. The maistres here wai agen nome. Tiding had themperour line410His sone com with gret honur. Anon he let a stede dight And rod him agen with mani a knight. Whan he him segh than was he blithe And kest him wel mani a sithe. line415Knight and erl and mani baroun Kiste the emperours soun And ladde him with gret noblais To themperour palais. The emperice him wil honur, line420Do him sende into hire bour. Scho ladde fram bour to bour And dede here mene make retour. She sschette the dore and set him on benche. Wil ye nou ihere of wommannes wrenche? line425The emperice was queinte indede, And in hire wrenche and in hire falshede. She and the schild alone wer than; fol. 86vbWas with hem non other man. Be his side she set hire fast, line430On him sche gan her egghen kast, And saide: “Mi leve suete grom, Swithe welcome be thou hom. I have icast to thee mi love Of al worhtlich thing above. line435Thi louerd the emperour is old; Of kinde, of bodi he is cold. I swere, bi sonne and bi mone, With me ne hadde he never to done. But for ich herde telle of thi pris, line440That thou were hende, gentil, and wis, For to have with thee acord, Ich am iwedded to thi lord. Kes me, lemman, and love me, And I thi soget wil ibe, line445So God me helpe, for He hit wot: To thee ich have ikept mi maidenhod.” Sche kest here armes aboute his swere, Ac he made lourand chere And drowgh awai with al his might; line450He wold his lord don non unright. Whan the emperice that understod, Al achaunged was hire blod, And saide to him: “Sweting fre Whi nel tou nowt speke with me?” line455For no thing that sche mightte do O word nolde he speken her to.

Than the emperice wex wroth. Sche tar hire her and ek here cloth, Here kirtel, here pilche of ermine. line460Here keuerchefs of silk, here smok o line, Al togidere with bothe fest, Sche torent binethen here brest. With bothe honden here yaulew here Out of the tresses sche hit tere, line465And ssche tocragged hire visage, And gradde “Harow!” with gret rage. In halle was themperour. “Who had thee don this desonur?” “Bot this devel that her is, line470Hadde me ner ihonisscht, iwis. Hadde ich ben a while stille, fol. 87raWith me he hadde don his wille. And but ye hadde the rather icome, Par force he hadde me forht inome. line475Lo hou he had me torent, Mi bodi and mi face isschent! He ne was nevere of thi blod; Lat him binde, for he is wod. A fend he is in kinde of man. line480Binde him, sire, and lede han, For wod of wit I schal be, Yif ich lengere on him see.” “He sschal abigge,” saide themperour, And cleped forht a turmentour. line485Quik he het his sone take, And spoili him of clothes nake, And beten him with scourges stronge, And afterward him heghe anhonge. “Bletheliche,” the boies quathe, line490And tok the schild swithe rathe, And ladde him forht thourgh the halle Among therles and barons alle. Evele thai gonnen him bisen. Gentil ronnen hem bitwen line495And asked anon of this cas. Thai saide here lordes heste hit was. Anon thai ronnen into the bour Biforn here lord the emperour And blamed him he dede that dede line500Withouten counseil and rede, And bad him that thilke sorewe Most be respit til amorewe. “And thanne save him other slen, Bi conseil of thi gentil men.” line505The emperour than spared his sone And het him caste in his prisone. The emperice was fol wroth, That the child was spared, forsoht, And wel mochel hit here traid. line510Sche thought wel more thanne she said.

An even late the emperour Was browt to bedde with honur. The emperice his worhtli fere To him cam with lourand chere line515And the emperour asked why fol. 87rbShe made semblant so sori. “O sire,” she saide, “no wonder nis, For now to londe icomen is He that schal, in thin eld age, line520Binime thee thin heritage.” “Pais, dame, who sschal that be?” “Thin howen sone, I segge thee.” “Min owen sone? Dame, nay! Ne schalt tou nevere se that dai line525That he schal have ani might Me for to don unright.” “Pais, sire, what halt hit heled? Todai tho hast him fram deth ispeled. Ase wel mot hit like thee line530Als dede the pinnote tre Of his ympe that he forht browte.” The emperour lai and more thougghte, And bad hire with semblaunt fre Tellen him of that ilche tre, line535And of the ympe al the cas.

[Tale 1: arbor, the tree. The empress]

“Whilom a riche burgeis was, And woned her in Rome toun, A riche man of gret renoun. He hadde bihinden his paleys line540A fair gardin of noblays Ful of appel tres and of pirie; Foules songe therinne murie. Amideward that gardyn fre So wax a pinnote tre line545That hadde fair bowes and frut; Therunder was al his dedut. He made therunder a grene bench And drank therunder mani a sscench. Certes therinne was al his plaiyng line550In time of solas and his resting.

So bifel upon a dai, The burgeis fram home tok his wai. He boughte marchaundise and his chaffare And bileved oute al a yare. line555Also sone so he mighte, Homward he gan him dighte. Whan he was light at his in, Quik he wente to his gardin, His fair tre for to sen. fol. 87vaThanne segh he wexe a litel stren, line561A yong ympe ut of his rote; Fair hit him thougghte and swote. Ac that ympe that so sprong, Hit was sschort and nothing long. line565The burgeis cleped his gardiner: ‘Lo!’ he saide, ‘Lo, me her! Seste thou this ympe of gret mounde? Kanst thou me telle, gode bounde, Whi hit is so schort wering?’ line570‘Ya, sire,’ he saide, ‘be hevene king, The grete bough that over him is So him bisschadeweth, iwis, That hit mai have no thedom.’ ‘Steghe up,’ he saide, ‘mi gode grom, line575And hak awai the grete bough, That hit ne do min ympe no wough.’ The gardiner, as his louerd het, Hew awai the bough al swet, And asked yif hit was wel ido. line580Another he bad him kit therto: ‘Than mai, withouten letting, Min himpe jolifliche spring.’ Nou ben hise bowes awai isschore, And mochel of his beauté forlore. line585The ympe had roum and wexeth fast; The olde tre his vertu gan acast. For no wonder hit nis: Of the maister rote hit is Out ispronge and out isshet. line590And his bowes awai iket, Tharfore that olde tre les his pride And asered bi that o side. The gode burgeis on a dai His ympe thrivende he sai, line595Fair iwoxe and fair isprad, But the olde tre was al abrad. He clepid his gardener tho And asked whi the olde tre verd so. He answerede, als he wel couthe, line600‘Sikerliche, ich telle thee nouthe: The yonge impe that wide springes Had large roum in alle thingges, And for the elde tre is so ihewed, fol. 87vbHit is so wikked and so sschrewed.’ line605The burgeis seide: ‘Sethe the elde Biginneth so to unbelde, Hewe him to the grounde doun right. Lat the yonge tre atire, aplight.’ Thous was the olde tre doun ithrawe line610And the yonge tre forht idrawe. Gode sire, gent and fre, That olde tre bitokneth thee. The yonge bitokneth thi sone wode That is ispronge out of thi blode. line615He sschal be sone forht idrawe And maister, and thou his knaue. Hit wil wel sone ben ido, But thou take kep therto. And but thou do, thou ne hast no might. line620That I biseke to oure Dright That als hit mote fare bi thee, As dede bi the pinnote tre.”

“Certes dame, thou seist for nowt. I ne sschal nevere so ben bicaught. line625Ich thee bihote, sikerliche. He schal tomorewe erliche To deth be don, and that is right.” And thous passede the ferste night.

[Day 2]

Amorewe aros the emperour line630And mani baroun of gret honur. Men undede the gates of the paleis; In com goende mani burgeis. Sone was fild paleys and tour; In com goind themperour. line635“Goht,” he seith, “to the prisone, And fechcheth forht mine sone, And quik that he ware anhonge On heghe galewes and on stronge.” The boies yede anon doun line640And fesched the child out of prisoun, And ladde him forht thour the halle Among the erles and barouns alle. For that schild that naked was Mani bede themperice evel gras.

line645Than com ridend Bancillas, The childes firste maister he was, And seghe his deciple harde bistad; fol. 88raTherfore he was in herte unglad. He rod to themperours halle, line650And lighte and passede the knightes alle, And fint sone themperour, And: “Sire,” saide, “Deu vous doint bonjour.” Themperour saide: “God thee defende, Fram god dai and fram god ende.”

line655Than seide maister Bancillas: “Whi artou wroht, and for what cas Wiltou sle thin owen child? Ne were thou wone be god and mild?” “Hit nis no wonder,” saide themperour, line660“Thou sschalt ben anhonged, thou losenjour. For to thee and thine fere I bitok mi sone to lere, For to han itaught him god, And ye han imad him wod. line665Mi wif he wolde have forleyn; Hit nis no wonder though I have trayn. He schal therfore ben islawe, And afterward al todrawe.” Than seide maister Bancillas: line670“Sire, that were now a sori cas. Thei he had iwraththed your wif, Yit had he nowt agelt his lif. Savve youre grace, wene ich hit nowt, Hit evere com in his thout.”

line675Themperour saide: “I fond hire torent, Hire her and hire face ischent, And who is founde hond-habbing, Hit nis non nede of witnessing.” Saide Bancillas: “Hit nis non hale line680To leve stepmoderes tale. Yif thou him slest bi hire purchas, On thee falle swich a cas As fel upon a gentil knight And of his graihond that was so wight.” line685“O maister, for Godes mounde, Hou bifel the knight of his grehonde?” “Therwhile, sire, that I tolde this tale, Thi sone mighte tholie dethes bale; Thanne were mi tale forlore. line690Ac ofsende thi sone therfore, And yif him respit of his bale, fol. 88rbAnd thou sschalt here a foul fair tale.” Themperour saide: “Respit I graunt. Fech him hider a serjaunt.” line695Quik ran the messager. With god semblant and glade cher, He louted his maister that com him bi As he was lad to prisoun sti. “Maister,” seide themperour, “tel this cas.” line700“Bletheliche,” saide sire Bancillas.

[Tale 2: canis, the dog. First sage, Bancillas]

“Sire, whilom was in this cité, In a dai of the Trineté, A swithe noble strong burdis Of men that were of noble pris. line705In a mede was this turney, Of men that were of gret noblai. The knyght in the mede hadde o maner, Al biclosed with o river, Of chaumbres and of heghe halle, line710Of old werk, forcrased alle. The knight hadde a fair leuedi, A wel fair child sche hadde him bi. Hit hadde of thre norices keping: The ferste gaf hit soukeying; line715That other norice him scholde bathe Whan hit was time, late and rathe; The thridde norice him sscholde wassche. The child was keped tendre and nessche. The knight hadde a graihond, line720Ther nas no better in lond ifound. Alle the bestes that ran to He tok, bothe hert and ro. He was so hende and wel itaught, He nolde give him for non aught. line725The knight was lopen on his stede And armed wel in iren wede — The sscheld aboute his nekk, the spere on his hond — And burdised with the knightes of the lond. The leuedi stod in pointt tournis line730For to bihelde the burdis. The norice went out of the halle And set the cradel under the walle. Mani stede ther ran and lep, To hem men toke gode kep. line735An addre was norissched in the wal fol. 88vaAnd herde the riding and the noise al, And pelt out here heued to se that wonder, And segh that schild ligge therunder. He crep to grounde quik anon line740In the cradel the child to slon. The graihond segh the adder red, Grislich, rough, strong, and qued. Anon he gan hire to asail And hente here in his mouth saun fail. line745The adder so the grehound stang And he feled the bite so strang. Anon he let the adder gon, Upon the cradel he fleigh anon, And was aboute the child to sting, line750And the greihond com yerne flingging, And hente the adder in strong ger, And flapped here al aboute his er. Bitwene the adder and the grehound The cradel turnd up so doun on ground — line755Up so doun in hire feghting — That the child lai diveling. The stapeles hit up held al quert, That the child nas nowt ihert. Thaddre so the greihoun bot, line760Bi the side, God hit wot. He cried and on the cradel lep And bledde theron a wel gret hep. And whan the smert was al igon, To that addre he sterte anon, line765And bi the bodi he him hent, And al to peces here torent. The grehound wolde nowt sessed be Til that adder ware toren of thre, And al the place theraboute, line770Was wel blodi, withouten doute. The burdis toyede, the folk gan hom tee, And the norices alle thre The cradel and the child thai found Up so doun upon the ground; line775The greihound criede for his smert. The norice was sori in hert And ech of hem understode That the greihond was wod And hadde that faire child islawe. fol. 88vbAwai thai gonne fle and drawe, line781Als hit were wode wimmen. The leuedi com hom agen And asked hem what hem was. Anon thai telde here al the cas line785Thai lowen on that greihond hende; Hit was pité, so God mamende.

The leuedi, when sche herde this, Aswone sche fil adoun, iwis. The knight com fram the justing fare, line790Anon asked hem what hem ware. ‘Sire,’ quadth she, ‘ich wille bi ded, I nelle never ete bred, For thi greihond that is so wilde Hath islawe oure faire childe, line795And but ye willen him slen anon, Right now ich wille mi lif forgon.’ The knight for rage into halle set, His hende graihond ther he met, That him welcomed with fot and tail. line800The knight drowth his swerd, saunz fail, The graihond on the rigge he hit, Into the grounde he him slit. The greihound is ded, the knight forth goth Into his halle, grim and wroth. line805Of the adder he fond mani tronsoun And the cradel up so doun. He turneth the cradel and fint the child quik, Hol and sond, and hath ferlich. He segh the adder the graihound slowth: line810He hadde slawen his greihond with wouth. He cride and made mochel sorewe: ‘Ne be that man nevere iborewe, But in evel water adreint, That ever leve wimmannes pleint.’ line815Eft he maketh a gret cri, And he clepeth the leuedi, And on the knightes and sweines also, And pleined him of his mochel wo, And sschewede his child hol and sound, line820And slawen was his gode graihond, For his prouesse and his god dede, Al for his fole wives rede. ‘O grehound,’ he seide, ‘wight and strong, fol. 89raI schal mi selve abigge that wrong, line825And tache other knightes, saun fail, To leve here leuedis conseil.’ He set him doun in that thrawe, Als quik he dede his sschon ofdrawe, And karf hise vaumpes fot-hot, line830And wente him forht al barfot, Withouten leve of wif and child, And wente into a forest wild, Into desert fram alle men, Wolde he never come agen. line835He tholede mani a biter stounde For the wrong of his greihonde. So falle on thee, sire emperour, Swich arm and sschame and desonur, Yif thou do thi sone unright, line840Als to the greihound dede the knight. Thourgh the counseil of hiis wif He slough his greihond nowt geltif.”

“O maister, bi Peter that ich haue sought, So schal hit bifalle nowt. line845Nou bi God that I schal serve Todai more ne schal he sterve.” The court wente, the maister tok leve, Hit gan sone to wexen eve. Themperour com to chaumbre anon, line850Themperice him loured upon. Themperour saide: “Dame, artou wroth?” “Ye, sire,” she saide, “forsoht.” “Tel me now, sweting fre.” “Thou wost wel, so mot ich se, line855For I thee warni of thine fon, And thou ne kanst me thank non. Thou clepest thi sone, he is the devel; He sschal thee do wel mochel ivel. But thou me of him wil awreke, line860Al folk mot hit wite and speke. He mot thee bringge to swich ending Als hadde the bor for his cracheing.” “The bor, dame, tel that me, Whi for cracheing deied he?” line865“Sire nou thou wilt wite that cas, Ich wille thee telle hou hit was.”

[Tale 3: aper, the boar. The empress]

“Sire,” quath the leuedi, “here bi west fol. 89rbTher was a fair riche forest. A bor was norisscht tharinne, line870Fram a pig to a swine. Of the bor was swich los To gon therinne ech man agros; Ne dorst ther come knight ne swein. In the forest was a plein line875And in the pleyn a tre of hawes That ripe were be tho dawes. The bor hem gan ful sone asmelle; Ech dai he het therof his felle. In that forest woned an herd line880That of bestes loked and sterd. O best him was araught, Widewar he hit hadde isought. Be the hawe tre he gan come And thoughte to have therof some. line885Ful he gaderede his barm — Yet ne thought he of non harm — In his other lappe he gaderede some. The felle bor bicam to come. The herde him segh and was ofdrad, line890He dorst nowt fle, he was so mad. Up to the hawe tre he stegh. The bor him com swithe negh And he ne findeth hawe non As he was iwont to don. line895He loked up and segh the herd, He criede and makede rewli rerd. He wette his tossches and his fet, The erthe with his snowte he bet. Thourh the mouht the fom was wight, line900The tussches in the tre he smit. The tre aresede as hit wold falle. The herde was sori adrad withalle And nyste what was beste to doo. Hys honde he putt his lappe too lineE905And caste the bore of the hawyn. The boore thereof faste gan gnawyn And ete hys wombe fulle withalle, And he gan sone on knes to falle. Tho isegh the herd man lineA910That the bor falle bigan, He kest the bor doun hawes anowe And com himself doun bi a bowe. With the left hond he heng, And with the right hond on the bor he feng. line915He clew the bor on the rigge And he bigan adoun to ligge. fol. 89vaHe clewe him eft upon the wombe, He fil adoun als a lombe. He lek his eghen and gan to slape. line920The knif drough the herde knape — Out he drough, scharp an long — The bor to the herte he stong. The herd thous with his long knif Biraft the bor of his lif. line925He went him forth and let him ligge. Lo, sire emperour, I thee sigge, Thou art the bor, thi maister thee clawes With fals resoun and wikkede sawes, And on thee he whetteth his teth. line930Til thai thee bringge to thi deth, With clawing thai sculle thee desceive, Til thai thee sle with dethes glaive.”

“Certes, dame, I sigge no. Hit schal nevere bifalle so. line935Forsothe he sschal tomorewe dai, Withouten ani more derai.” And sche saide ones other twiis: “Gentil sire, graunt mercys. God yif thee therto strengthe and might line940To dethe him do er hit be night.”

[Day 3]

The night passede, the dai com, The heghe emperour of Rom Went adoun of his tour, With herte wroth and gret irour. line945Men unlek gate and halle dore, Barouns entrede in a store, Sone was filt paleys and tour, In com gon themperour. Biforen hem alle, in grete traye, line950He het mani a wikke boie His son lede toward the hangging; Hit was ido withouten letting. And right amideward the pres Com ride maister Ancilles, line955That the childes other maister was, And isegh that ferli cas. Toward the halle he gan drive, And highede thider fast and blive, And fond sone that emperour, line960And gret him sone with honur. fol. 89vbThemperour sikerliche On him loked litherliche, And to the maister he saide thore: “Maugre have thou for thi lore. line965Thou hast iserved wikked mede, Thou schalt hit have, so Crist me spede.”

Than saide maister Ancilles: “For Godes love, sire, hold thi pes. Wiltou sle thin owen sone? line970To ben milde hit was thi wone.” “Hit nis no wonder,” saide themperour, “Thou schalt ben anhonged, thou vile losenjour. Ich tok thee mi sone to lore For to teche him wisdom more line975And ye han him bitreid. His speche is loren, ich am desmaid; Mi wif he wolde have forht itake. To deth,” he seide, “he schal ben don with wrake.” Than seide the maister: “Hit is non hale line980To leve stepmoderes tale, For here bolt is sone ischote, More to harm than to note. Yif thou him sle bi hire purchas, On thee falle swich a cas line985Als fil on Ypocras, the gode clerk, That slow his neveu with fals werk.” “Maister,” he saide, “tel me that cas Of the scoler and of Ypocras.” Ancilles said als-so tit: line990“Thi sone todai mak thou quit, Til tomorewe hit be dailight, And I thee schal telle anonright, With gret felonie and with wouh Hou Ypocras his neven slow.” line995“I schal him respite,” saide themperour, And het anon, withouten sojour Men scholde agen fechche his sone And caste him into presone. The child was brout into the toun line1000With a fair processioun And into presoun pilt he was. Nou ginneth the tale of Ypocras.

[Tale 4: medicus, the doctor. Second sage, Ancilles]

“Sire Ypocras was maister here, Of lechecraft was non his pere. fol. 90raHe hadde with him his neveu, line1006That schild lere of his vertu. He segh the child so queinte of lore, He wolde techen him nammore. He thoughte wel, at a score, line1010He sscholde passi him bifore. The child aparceived wel this And held hit in his herte, iwis. His emes werk he gan aspie Til he couthe al his maistrie. line1015Tho Ypocras wel he fond Bi craft of the childes hond That he couthe al his mastrie And brast negh for onde and vie. So bifel upon a time a thing: line1020Of Hongrie the riche king Hadde swich a sone gent. To Ypocras anon he sent That he scholde come his sone to hale And habbe gold ful a male. line1025Ypocras wende ne might But cleped his neveu anonright And bad him wenden to that lond, And that schild take an hond. And whan he hadde so ido, line1030He scholde agen comen him to. The schild was set on a palefrai And forht he tok the righte way. And whan he com to that lond The king him tok bi the hond line1035And ladde him to his sike childe. Now Crist of hevene be ous milde! The yonge man segh the childes peyne And tasted his senewe and his veyne. He taketh an urinal for to sen, line1040He ne segh nowt of the kyng, but of the quen. And of the child, God hit wite, He segh hit was amis bigete. He gan the leuedi aside drawe. ‘Dame,’ he saide, ‘be aknawe line1045What man had bigete this child?’ ‘What,’ she saide, ‘artou wild? Who sschulde him bigete but the kyng?’ ‘Dame,’ he saide, ‘that is soht no thing. fol. 90rbHit nas nevere of kinges stren.’ line1050‘Let,’ she saide, ‘swich wordes ben Other I schal do bete thee so That tho schalt nevere ride ne go.’ ‘Dame,’ he saide, ‘bi swiche tale Thi sone schal nevere more ben hale. line1055Ac tel me, dame, al the cas, Hou the child bigeten was.’ ‘Belami,’ she saide, ‘so.’ ‘Par fai, dame,’ he saide, ‘no,’ And schok his heued upon the quen. line1060‘Dame,’ he saide, ‘thai yhe wille me slen, I ne mai do thi sone no bot, But yif I wite the sothe rot Of what man hit was bigete.’ ‘Maister,’ she saide, ‘that mai no man wite. line1065Yif mi conseil were unhele, Ich were islawe, bi righte skele.’ ‘Dame,’ he seide, ‘so mot ich thee, I nelle nevere biwraie thee.’ ‘O meister,’ she seide, ‘so hit bifel: line1070This enderdai in on Averil, Therl of Naverne com to this thede, Wel atired in riche wede, With mi louerd for to plai, And so he dede mani a dai. line1075That ich erl I gan to love Al erthliche thing above, And so, par gret druri, I let that erl ligge me bi, And thous hit was on me bigete. line1080A, leve maister, let no man wite.’ ‘Nai, dame, forsothe, iwis, But for he was bigeten amis, Hit mot bothe drink and ete Contrarius drink, contrarius mete: line1085Beves flesch, and drinke the brotht!’ He gaf the child anon therof; The child warisscht fair and wel. The kyng gaf him mani a juel To the leche, of silver and goold, line1090Als mochel als he nime wold. He wente hom with that eighte And Ypocras, anonright, fol. 90vaHe asked yif that the schild was sound. ‘Ye sire,’ he saide, ‘bi Seint Simond.’ line1095He asked: ‘what was his medicine?’ ‘Bef and broth gode and fine.’ ‘What than was he an avetrol?’ ‘Thou seist soht, sire, be mi pol.’ Quath Ypocras: ‘Bi the gode dome, line1100Thou art bicome al to wis a grome.’ Ther he thoughte, agen resoun, To don him strong tresoun.

So bifel upon a dai, He and his neveu yede to plai line1105In a fair grene gardin, Therin wex mani an herbe fin. On thei seghen in the grounde That was an herbe of gret mounde. He tok and schewid hit Ypocras line1110And he saide a better ther nas For he wald his neveu bikeche. The child stoupede swich on to reche, Therwhile Ypocras with a knif Binom that schild his swete lif, line1115And let him birie sikerliche, Als he were storven sodainliche. And sone therafter swithe yerne He let alle hise bokes berne. Ac God almighti, hevene kyng, line1120He oversegh alle thing. He sent Ypocras for his tresoun Sone therafter the menesoun. Wel wist Ypocras for his qued That he scholde sone be ded. line1125For al that hever he mighte do His menesoun might nowt staunche tho. He let ofsende, moche and lite, Hise neyebours him to visite, And tolde al right anon line1130Hou his deth was comen him on, With gret right and nowt with wough, For his neveu that he slowgh. An empti tonne he let fet And of water of a pet line1135He let hit fille to the mouthe, For he walde hise werkes were couthe. The tresoun he gan hem alle reherse. fol. 90vbIn a thousand stede he let the tonne perce And tho he hadde mad holes so fele, line1140In ech he pelt a dosele And smerede the holes al aboute, And everich doseil he braid oute. No drope of water ut com than, Mervaile hadde mani a man. line1145‘Lo!’ he saide, ‘water hi can stop, That hit ne mai nowt bi bores drop, Ac I ne mai nowt stop mi menesoun And that is al for mi tresoun, With gret right and nowt with wough, line1150For mi neveu that I slow. Ich him slow sikerliche, For he was wiser man than iche. Ich ne no man under sonne Me gif help nou ne conne, line1155But mi neveu alive ware. Right is that ich hennes fare.’ Lo!” saide the maister, “hou Ypocras Destrued his lif and solas. Sire emperour, tak hede and loke: line1160He slow his neveu and brent his boke, Might hit him ani thing profite?” “Nai,” saide themperour, “moche ne lite.” “No,” saide the maister, “verraiment. I biseke God omnipotent, line1165That yif thou do thi sone to ded And hise maistres, be thi wives red, That on thee falle swich a cas, As dede on maister Ypocras.”

The maister had so isped, line1170Themperour sone was his frend. The maister was owai inome; Themperour was to chaumbre icome. Ther he fond his emperice With lourand chere and with nice line1175Hond wringging, and loude koupe, And here visage al biwope. “Dame,” he saide, “pluk up thi cher, Other tel me whi thou makest swich cher.” “Sire,” she saide, “hit is wonder non. line1180Hi se thi honur al igon; I se the wede waxe over the corn. Allas! allas! that I was boren fol. 91raAnd that I schal this dai ise That we sschulle departed be.” line1185“What, dame, is hit comen therto, We sscholle be departed so?” “Ye, sire, bi Adam and bi Eve, For thou nelt nowt me ileve Of him that thou clepest thi sone. line1190Certes he had the develes wone. He thee procureth night and dai Al the sschame that he mai. Thine barouns and thine gentil men, Alle thai holden thee agen. line1195Thai sschal wel sone for nithe an hete Put thee out of thi kinges sete And sette him stede inne thine; That ware mi deth and mi pine. Ich hadde levere to ben anhonge line1200Than that I scholde live so longe.” A! Hou wimmen conne hit make, Whan thai wil ani man lake. “Ac, sire, yif hit falle so That thempire is dight him to, line1205On thee falle swich a cas As dede on him that his heued was Of his sone icast in a gong With felonie and with wrong.” “O dame, who might that be line1210Wolde do his fader swich vilté? Tel hit me, for God above.” “Lat be, sire, for mi love, Thou ne lovest nowt of mi telling; Hit schal thee rewe, bi hevene kyng.” line1215“Yis, dame,” he saide, “lat here thee speke And ich wil sone thee awreke. Sei on, dame.” And ssche bigan To tellen als a fals wimman.

[Tale 5: gaza, the treasure. The empress]

“An emperour was in thes toun, line1220A riche man of gret renoun, Octovien was his name, Wide sprong his riche fame. Gold and silver to wille he wan And more he hadde than ani man. line1225He made Cressent, that riche tour, Therinne he pult his tresor. Seve wise men ther were in Rome, fol. 91rbThe five out of londe he nome And the twaie left at home line1230To kepe Rome with rightful dome. That on was bothe curteis an hende, Lef to give and lef to spende; And that other lef to pinche, Bothe he was scars and chinche. line1235And als we finden writen in boke, Themperour him taught his tresor to loke, And he hit kept bi al his might, Bothe bi daies an bi night. For the wrecche man, saun fail, line1240Wende the erthe sscholde him fail. The large wise wiste wel Of this tresor eche a del. He saide to his sone: ‘Tak a pike, Tonight thou schalt with me strike.’ line1245‘Whider?’ seide his sone. ‘Therof have thou nothing to done. Arise up quik and with me go, And do als tou sest me do.’ Forth thai went withoute sojour line1250To Cressent that riche tour. An hole thai bregen al with ginne And bothe thai wenten therinne, And token tresor, I you swere, Als the moche als thai might bere, line1255And beren hit hom wel on hast, And maden hem large whiles hit last. Amorewe aros that sinatour, And sithen tobregen his louerdes tour, And beren was awai that tresour; line1260Therfore he made gret dolour. He ne made no pleint to no man, But stopped the hole anon agen, For he thouwte wel that hit left, Wolde come agen eft. line1265For thef of steling wil nowt blinne, Til he honge bi the chinne. Nigh evene bi the hole, Ther the catel was istole, The wise man dede make a dich line1270Ful of lim and of pich, That yif he agen wald come, That the trattur sscholde bi nome. fol. 91vaThe stolen catel ispended is, The wise bicometh a fol, iwis.

line1275He tok his sone, agen he went To that tour that hight Cressent. An hole thay broken al bi store, The fader lep in bifore, Into the limed diche. line1280Loude he gan to crie and skriche And saide: ‘Sone, com her thou nowt, For ich ham nomen and bicaught.’ ‘Hou so, fader? Ich wil fechche help.’ ‘Nai, sone, mak therof no yelp. line1285Her ne geth help ne red, For sikerliche ich am ded.’ ‘A, leve fader, what sschal I do?’ ‘Sone, with thin hond thi swerd tak to And hastiliche gird off min heued.’ line1290‘Nai arst mi lif scholde me bi bireved, Ar ich mi fader scholde sle.’ ‘Sikerliche, sone, hit mot so be, Other ich and tou and alle mine Beth ischent withouten fine. line1295Bettere hit is that ich on passe, Than al mi ken, more and lasse. Smit off min heued with thi sword; Schalt tou never here therof no word. Hit ginneth to dawe, highe thee henne. line1300Forgive I thee al that sinne.’ His fader heued he smot off thare And awai with him hit bare. Ac he ne wiste for non nede Whar he mighte hit best ihede. line1305But als he com bi a gong Amidde the pit he hit slong And wente hom and made wo, His brethren and his sustren also. Amorewe aros that sinatour, line1310And segh tobroken his louerdes tour, And segh ther stonde an heuedles man — Knowe him nowt he ne can. He loked bifore and bihinde, Knowleching ne couthe he finde. line1315He let him drawe out of the pit And his fet faste iknit With trais an two stronge hors, fol. 91vbAnd hete to Rome drawen his cors, And yif ani weped other cride, line1320He het him nime that ilche tide. ‘Quicliche breng him me bifore, For of that kyn he was ibore.’ The heuedles bodi also skete Was idrawe thourgh everi strete. line1325Fort he come agen the paleis That aughte the ded burgeis. There was cri and wail a wo, Of brother and of suster also.

The sone that wiste of al that dede line1330Stirt him in in gret drede. He braid out his knif on hegh And smot himselve thourghhout the thegh. The kinges serjaunt faste hide To nime that folk that faste cride. line1335Thai sschewed iwonded here brother, Thai seide thai wepte for non other. Thai seghen alle the wonded man And leved hem wel and went ogan. Lo, sire, swich a foul wille, line1340Agen resoun and right skille. Was nowt the boi of wit bireved Whan he tok his fader heued, In a vil gonge slong hit inne? He might han don a better ginne, line1345Ibiried hit ower preveliche.” “Thou saist soth, dame, sikerliche, An unkynde boi hit was.” “Ya! On thi heued falle that cas! Thi sone, the devel him mote anhonge, line1350But he cast thin heued in a gonge.”

“Dame, I schal yeme me fram care, Certes tomorewe he sschal forht fare.” “Sire, I leve thee nowt, sikerliche.” “Yis, dame, hardiliche.” line1355“Graunt merci,” she saide, “sire gent” And kist him to acordement, And let here word swithe sone, And yede to bedde mididone.

[Day 4]

Dioclician themperour, line1360Amorewe wente out of his tour And let ofsende his gentil knave — No man ne most him save — fol. 92raAnd het him lede forht sikerlik, And bidelve him also quik line1365That he never, for no thing, Herde of him more tiding. He was forht lad with boies felle. The burgeis and the dammeisele, Thai gunne arere swich a cri line1370That hit schillede into the ski, And saide: “Wailawai! Whi with wronge Schal themperours sone ben anhonge?” Than com ridende Lentilioun, A wis maister and of fair fazoun. line1375The childes thridde maister hadde iben, For reuthe he ne might him nowt isen. And themperour wel sone he fond, He gret him faire, ich understond. Themperour saide: “So God me spede, line1380Traitour, thee sschal be quit thi mede. For mi sones mislerning Yhe sschulle habbe evel ending.” “O sire emperour of pris, In dedes thou sscholdest be war and wis. line1385Yif thou wilt thi sone sschende Withouten assent of barouns hende, And dost us qued for oure godnesse, On thee falle swich a destresse So dede on the riche gome line1390That with his wif was overcome.” “O tel me, maister, hou ani wimman Mighte bigile ani man?” “Blethelich, sire, so God me amende, Yif thou wilt thi sone ofsende. line1395For yif he were therwiles islawe, For nowt I telde thee mi tale.” The riche emperour also sket His sone agen fechche he het. The child was don the presoun in, line1400The maister his tale he gan agin.

[Tale 6: puteus, the well. Third sage, Lentilioun]

“Ther was a burgeis in this toun, A riche man of gret renoun, That wolde spouse no neyhebours schild, But wente fram hom as a moppe wild. line1405He let his negheboures child for o vice And wente fram hem als moppe and nice, fol. 92rbAnd browghte hom a dammaisele, Was ful of vices swithe fele. He segh hire fair and avenaunt line1410And with here fader made covenant For to habben hire to wive And evere more to righte live; He spoused hire and ladde hire hom. Hire forme lemman hire after com, line1415That hire served mani a stounde, Whan on slepe was the husbounde. Than was the lawe in Rome toun That whether lord or garsoun, That after corfu bi founde rominde, line1420Faste men scholden hem nimen and binde And kepen him til the sonne uprising, And than bifore the folk him bring And thourgh the toun him villiche drive. The burgeis aparseived of his wive line1425Fele nightes was gon him fram, And in the dawiyng agen she cam. He saide nowt wel longe while But ever he souchede him of gile. O night he him ase dronke made line1430And yede to bedde blithe and glade, And lai stille als he slepe sone. Sche stal awai mididone And wente to here lotebi, And he hit aparseived sikerli, line1435And went him out and segh and herd Al togider hou sche misferd, And wente him in out of the strete And schet the dore swithe skete, And spak out ate windowe line1440And saide: ‘Dame, God give thee howe, This thou ne might forsake for non nede. Ich have inome thee in this dede With thi lechour, with him thou go, Of thee ne kep I nevere mo.’ line1445‘A, lat me in, sire, par amour, Men sschal sone ringe corfour.’ ‘Nai, dame, ich thee forsake, In the foli thou worst itake. Al thi ken schal witen and sen, line1450What mester womman thou havest iben.’ fol. 92va‘Nai, God almighti that isschilde, Ich wille bicome wod and wilde. But thou me in lete, ich wille telle, Ich wille me drenchen in the welle.’ line1455‘Drenche thi selve other anhonge, For here thou havest lived too longe.’ She tok up a gret ston And wente to the welle anon, And saide after a wommannes wrenche: line1460‘Her now, sire, I schal me adrenche.’ She let the ston falle in the welle And sterte under the dore wel snelle. The seli man bigan to grede: ‘Allas! wat sschal me to rede?’ line1465Anonrightes he wente him owt And soughte his wif in the welle about, And swithe loude he bigan to crie, And she stert in wel an highe, And sschitte the dore swithe fast, line1470And he gan up his heued cast. ‘What,’ he saide, ‘who is thare?’ ‘Ich,’ she saide, ‘God give thee kare. Is hit nou time, bi thi snoute, For to ben thous longe theroute?’ line1475‘A, dame,’ he saide, ‘ich was asschreint. Ich wende thou haddest ben adreint. Lat me in, dame, par amour, Men sschal sone ringe corfour.’ ‘The devel honge me thanne bi the toth, line1480The waites sscholle wel se the soth That thou art an hold lechour And comest hom after corfour. Thou schalt suffre kare and howe And drinke that thou hast ibrowe.’ line1485With that the waites come ride And hi herden hou thai gon schide And corfour belle ringge gan. Inomen was that seli man And never of him no qued ne herde — line1490Thai wist ful wel hou hit ferde. Thai beden his wif, as she was hende, Leten him in ar corfu ende. She answered as malicious: ‘He cometh nou fram the hore hous. fol. 92vbThous he is wonet me to serve. line1496On evele dethe mot he sterve. Ich have ihid his schame er this, I nel nammore nou, iwis.’ Corfour belle no lenger rong, line1500The burgeis was lad forht with wrong. What helpeth hit lenger tale? That night he sat wel sore akale And his wif lai warme abedde, And solas of hire lemman fredde. line1505Amorewe the burgeis was forth ifet And his honden biforen him knet, And thourgh the toun he was ilad, Lohtliche driven and bigrad Ase a thef. This meschaunce, line1510Gelteles he suffred, this penaunce.

Sire, couthe this woman of gile?” “Ya, sche was a traitour vile And wel werse than an hound.” “Sire, mo swiche ther beth ifound line1515And thi self had on swich. She wil thee traie sikerlich Yif thou dost after her red, That thou dost thi sone to ded. That chaunce falle the iliche line1520That bifel the burgeis riche.” “Par fai, maister, that ware God right, I nel nowt do bi here tonight.” The child bileft stille in prisoun; The maister went out of the toun line1525And hadde mani a blessing For his disciple delivering. Whan men leke windowe and gate, Themperour com to chaumbre late. Themperice bigan to loure line1530Lohtliche on themperoure. “Dame,” he saide, “what haileth thee Swich semblaunt for to make me?” “Yit sschal hit falle ous so bitwene — That mani a man hit sschal hit sene — line1535As bitwene the leuedi and the stiward And the king in o foreward.” “What forward was that? Telle hit me As thou wilt to me lef be.” fol. 93ra“Nai, sire,” she saide, “hit his nowt worth, line1540Mi tale ne mot nowt forth. Telle ich thee ensaumple never so god, Thou me haldest of wit wod. Therfore ich wille holde me stille And suffri wel that man thee spille.” line1545“Nai, dame, lat here thee speke And ich thee wille ful wel awreke, So ich hit finde profitable And soth, I seie, withouten fable.”

[Tale 7: senescalcus, the steward. The empress]

“Nou ben sene, sire, and ihere. line1550A king was whilom of gret powere, Al Poile and Calabre lond — Al he held hit in his hond. Wimmen he lovede swithe lite And usede sinne sodomighte. line1555So long he pleiede with yong man, A swele in his membres cam than. The skin might hit nowt helde, Ne he ne mighte himselve welde; He fil sik in Godes wreche. line1560He let ofsenden him a leche; In urine he segh he mighte libbe. He laide a plastre under his ribbe, Barli bred he et for gode, And barli water that was isode, line1565Til he hadde of his membres bote. Than saide the leche: ‘Ar ye mote Have womman to pleie aright Yif ye wil be hol, aplight.’ ‘I schal wel,’ and cleped his stiward, line1570And he com als a leopard. ‘Lo me her, sire, what wil ye?’ ‘But a lemman fech thou me That I might tonight with hire plai.’ ‘I ne wot non, sire, in this contrai line1575That be thi bodi ligge dar, For thi los is boren so far, That thine membres ben toswolle.’ ‘Bihote hem pans an handfolle; Bihot twenti mark som leuedi line1580O night for to ligge me bi.’ Thanne thout that stiward coveitous: ‘That silver schal bileve with ous.’ fol. 93rbTo his wif he went anon And saide sche most on his arnede gon. line1585‘Bletheliche, sire, ac whiderward?’ ‘To the king,’ saide the stiward. ‘Thou schalt plaie with him in derk And winne ous gode twenti mark.’ ‘A, sire,’ sche saide, ‘fi! fi! line1590Hit is foul man to liggen bi And that wot everich womman wel.’ ‘Thou schalt, bi Seint Michel. Who that selver winne nelle, Lese he mot with right skille. line1595Thou sschalt ous the penies winne, Other I thee sschal drive out of min inne. O nedes he sschal that nedes mot. Hit nis nowt mi wille, God hit wot. But hit is skil, right and lawe, line1600To do bi me as bi thin awe.’ To the kinges chaumbre he went again And drof out bothe knight and swayn, Blewe out the torches and let in his wif. To the king sche wente bilif. line1605The fals stiward to bedde went, The king the leuedi in armes hent. What helpeth hit ani more seid? That night he was ful wel apaid. The wrecche stiward ne might nowt slape, line1610Ac in the moreweinge he gan uprape. To the kingges chaumbre he went saun fail. The king that night hadde ben in travail — In trewe love witouten arm — And slep in the leuedis arm. line1615The stiward made moche sorewe Til hit were halfwai midmorewe. He held himself mochel wrechche, Thous the king bigan to wechche, And saide: ‘Sire, up, up, hit is dai. line1620Lat that leuedi wende awai.’ The king saide: ‘I ne have no rape, For me lest yit ful wel slape And pleie twies and ones For to hele mine bones.’ line1625‘Nai, sire, hit is mi leuedi That al night hath laien thee bi.’ fol. 93va‘Belamy,’ he saide, ‘is hit thi wif?’ ‘Yea, sire,’ he saide, ‘be mi lif.’ ‘O traitour, fiz a puteyn! line1630Whi had thi wif bi me lain?’ ‘Sire, for the winning of thi moné.’ ‘Therfore,’ he saide, ‘yvel mote thou the. Thou hast bitraid thi wif and me, Dwelle thou wil ich arisen be, line1635I schal thi vile false cors Do todrawe with wilde hors. Out of mi lond I rede thou flee That I thee never eft isee. For abide thou min uprist, line1640Thou be honged, bi Jhesu Crist.’ Sire, thous the stiward les his wif And fley awai with mochel strif. Iwis, he was al forlore, He com agein nevere more.

line1645The king aros whan him list And kep the leuedi with the best, And held hire two yer other thre, And sithen gaf hire, with riche fe, To a riche erl of that lond. line1650Sche was nowt bicaught, ich understond. Sire, and so wil hit fare bi you Whan ye han loren youre vertu. Out of londe thou best idrive, Schal ich thee nevere ise whil I live. line1655No forse on me. After an emperour Mai me wedde a vavasour. I mai live a wel god lif Thai I be nowt an emperours wif. Ac falle chaunce ase hard line1660As dede the covaitous stiward That solde his wif for moné, But thou do als I rede thee.”

“Par fai, dame, that is skil, I wil do bi thee, yif God wil.” line1665“Sire,” she saide, “withouten fail, Thou dost bi a god counseil.”

[Day 5]

Morewe cam, as yhe mowe here, Themperour aros with foule chere. Into his palais he wente yare line1670And his barouns he fond thare. fol. 93vbBiforen hem alle in grete traye He het mani a wikke boye His sone toward the dethe bringge. Hit was ido withouten letting; line1675Toward deth he was ibrout. Mani a man hit ofthout. Thourgh Rome stretes, wide and side, The ferthe maister ther com ride. Malquidras was his name, line1680In his herte was no game. His disciple louted him to, The maistres hert brast negh for wo. He went into the halle flet, Themperour wel faire he gret. line1685Themperour him missaide than. “Merci, sire,” saide the wise man, “Sire, what have we thee misgelt? Oure gode dede schal ben ivel igelt?” “Sire,” quath themperour, “be min hed, line1690Worthi art to suffri ded, For to thee and thine fere I bitok mi sone to lere, For to han itaught him god, And ye han imade him wod. line1695Mi wif he wolde have forlai, Therfore ye sschulle al dai.” “O, sire emperour of pris, In dedes thou sscholdest ben war and wis. Yif thou wilt thi sone slo line1700Withouten assent of barons mo, And for oure godnesse do us qued, Swich a cas fal on thin heued As hadde the olde wise of his wive, Er thou parte out of this live.” line1705“O maister that was wel isaid. Hou was that olde man itraid?” “He was nowt bitraid, for he wis was.” “A! leve maister, tel me the cas.” “Bletheliche, withouten strif, line1710So thou respite thi sones lif Til to morewe that hit be dai, Than I thee schal the tale sai.” Themperour Dioclician His sone agen hight fechche than fol. 94raAnd into presoun he was icast. line1716The maister ginneth his tale in hast.

[Tale 8: tentamina, the tests. Fourth sage, Malquidras]

“Whilom was a man old and wis And hadde inow of worldes pris. In his youthe, in middel of his live, line1720He hadde iwedded two jolif wives. He livede and bothe hem overbod And was longe in his wideuhod. He livede so longe that he hor was And hadde of womman no solas. line1725His serjauntz ofte to him come And of alangenes him undernome, And bad him take a wif jolif To solace with his olde lif. Bi her rede he tok a yong womman — line1730Ase wone is of old man Yong womman for to spouse, And thanne be wraw and gelouse. Litel thai mai do, withouten gabbe, That yong womman wolde habbe. line1735Also ferde that olde wise: He dede his wif wel smal servise. The yonge wif, upon a dai, Com to chirche, par ma fai, And fond hire moder thare, line1740And tolde hire al of here kare, And saide: ‘Moder, I tholie a cas: Mi louerd doth me no solas. Ich moste have som other love.’ ‘Nai, dowter, for God above. line1745Old men ben felle and queinte And wikkede wrenches conne ateinte. Misdo nowt, doughter, but do bi rede.’ ‘Lat ben, moder, for hit is nede.’ ‘Doughter, thi louerd hath o gardin, line1750A wel fair ympe is tharin. A fair herber hit overspredeth, Al his solas therinne he ledeth. Nou ne bereth hit lef non. And whan thi louerd is out igon, line1755Doughter, tak thi gardiner, And lat it hewe to the fer. And yif he saith to thee ani resoun, Answere him with this enchesoun: fol. 94rbThat thou dest, hit is for the nones line1760To warme bi his colde bones.’ ‘Dame,’ she saide, ‘hit sschal ben don.’ Hom sche wente swithe anon And, al maugre the gardiner, The ympe was hewe to the fer. line1765The gode burgeis was hom icome And goth to his gardin, as was his wone, And fond his ympe up ihewe. ‘O,’ thoughte he, ‘her was a sscherewe.’ She saide sche dede hit for non arm line1770But for he sscholde his bones warm. He hit tok on ivel strong But he ne monede hit nowt long. He wentte to bedde and tok solas; That night never the better hir nas. line1775The yonge wif another dai To chirche tok the righte wai And fond eft hire moder thare, And of blisse sche was al bare, For neither be night no be dai line1780Hire louerd nolde with hire plai. ‘Ich mot lovie,’ she saide, ‘dame.’ ‘O doughter, hit were gret sschame Yif thou sscholdest thi gode kende Thourgh dede of vilainie sschende. line1785For yif thou dost a folie, Thi louerd hit wile sone aspie And he him wolde fellich awreke. Herkne doughter what I schal speke: A grai bichche thi louerd ginneth lovie line1790Over alle other bestes above. And whan ye sit bi the glede, And the bichche lith in thi grede, Mak thee wroth and draw thi knif, And binim the bichche here lif. line1795And loke thou be therafter queynt, And were thee with a wives pleint.’ The yonge saide hit sscholde be so. Hom ssche gan hire wai to go. Was hit nowt longe afterward line1800The yonge leuedi and hire lord Sete an even bi the fer; Biforen hem stod here squier. fol. 94vaShe hadde on a pilche of pris And a chaisel theron, iwis. line1805The bichche lai in hire barm, Sche plaide and hit dede here harm. Sche drow a knif and smot, The bichche daide, God hit wot, And pilche and cheisel al bibled. line1810The lord ros and yede to bed. For al hire wrenche and al here ginne, The more love sche ne might awinne. The thridde time to scherche sche went And hire moder ther sche fint, line1815And saide: ‘Dame, for al thi lore, I finde love never the more. Moder, ich mot lovie algat.’ ‘Doughter, ich rede that thou lat. Ac, tel me, doughter, for God above, line1820What man hastou ment to love?’ ‘Dame,’ she saide, ‘the prest, bi skil.’ ‘Nai, doughter, yif God wil, While thou might have squier or knight.’ ‘Nai, moder, mi trewthe I plight: line1825I nelle come in no knightes bedde. He hit wile make wide ikedde, And I thee saie, sikerliche, The prest I mai love priveliche.’ ‘Nai, doughter, her a queinte ginne, line1830Thi louerdes love hou schalt winne: Thi louerd schal sone make a fest Of riche men and honest. Thou schalt be bisaie that ilke dai. Honge at thi gerdel mani a kai line1835And sette thee haiest ate bord In a chaier agen thi lord. Thi kai in the cloth make thou fast; After, stirt up an hast. Thai thou felle coppe other cloth, line1840Go forth and strif nowt therof, And than thou schalt sone ise What therof wil be.’ The yonge wif to hire moder said: ‘Hit sschal be don, bi Marie maid, line1845And wite I sschal, moder, bi than, Yif he wil plaie, that olde man.’ fol. 94vbWel sone therafter, sikerli, The olde knight and te leuedi A wel fair feste thai made thare line1850Of frendes that hem leve ware. Sire, what helpeth hit longe tale? The wif servede of bred and ale, And after set hire adoun sone. The kai made moche to-done, line1855For sche feld bothe cloth and cop. Natheles thai ware gadered up. Swithe sore sche him atraid, Certes he was wel ivel ipaid. Whanne the gestes weren at ais, line1860Thai wenten hom fram his paleis. Morewe com — ac now ihere! — The louerd let make a gret fere And let ofsende a neyghebour, Ich understonde, a god barbour, line1865And fet his wif forth fot-hot And hire misdedes hire atwot, And saide he moste chasti hire ginne, For ivel blod was hire withinne. Hit moste be quik ilaten out, line1870That ssche ne helde hire nowt so stout. Wer here lef, were hire loth, Of hire he spoiled everich cloth. Tho hire kertel was off idrawe Tho wende ssche wel to ben islawe, line1875And saide she sscholde die also swithe, For she never lat blod in hire live; Therof ne stod him non owe. He rent hir smok to the elbowe And sithen set hire on a stol, line1880For he ne wolde nowt ssche were a fol, And gan to smiten hire on the veyn, And sche bledde with gret meyn Grete disschfolles two. Als swithe here arm was staunched tho, line1885He dede that other arm forht drawe. Than wende sscho wel to ben islawe And loude ssche gan to wepe and crie. ‘Hit helpeth thee nowt, be Seinte Marie.’ The barbour in the veyne hire smot, line1890Sche bledde wel til ssche was hot fol. 95raThe thridde disscful upright; Anon she les colour and might. The louerd hit segh and dede hire staunche And in a bed he dede here launche, line1895And saide: ‘Thries thou breddest wod, Therfore thou bleddest thre disschfoul of blod. And yif thou bredest wod ani more, Yit I sschal dubble thi sore.’ Sche wende to deghe, sche was agast, line1900And sent after here moder on hast. Hire moder com and sche saide: ‘A, mercy, moder, for Mari maide, I schal deghe, nou red me red.’ ‘Doughter, what schal that ised? line1905Thou most me telle what is this.’ ‘Mi louerd me hath negh slawen, iwis. For mine thre unwrast dede Thre disschfol of blod he let me blede, That I ne mai live, bi Godes ore.’ line1910‘Doughter, lest thee love more?’ ‘Nai, moder, bi God almight, I nelle neither lovie clerk ne knight.’ ‘No, doughter, I seide ful wel That olde men beth queynte and fel. line1915Thai conne more qued bithenche Than thou kanst do with ani wrenche. Hold thee to thine hosebounde And thou sschalt have al the mounde.’ Lo sire,” quad Malquidras, line1920“Ne was this a wonder cas? Thries misdede this womman bald And thre vengaunces he hire yald. Therfore sche hadde elles idon, That had ben werst of everichon. line1925The prest hi kaste hire love to, That noman might have undo. So fareth the quen with hire resoun, With hire lesinges and fals tresoun, Thi sone to deth for to bring. line1930Ac yif thou levest hire lesing Than thee falle a werse aprise As dede to that elde wise.”

“Par fai, maister, that ware lawe, To dai ne schal he nowt be slawe.” fol. 95rbThe maister out of toune rit, line1936The child bileft in prisoun pit. The dai is gon and comen the night, Themperour wente to chaumbre, aplight. His emperice ther he fond, line1940Sore wepe and wrong hire hond. “Ma dame,” saide themperour, Whi makest thou swich scher and foul lour?” “Sire, no wonder though ich am wroth, Thou dost thing that me is loht. line1945Thou levest tales of losengrie, Of falsnesse and of trecherie. So dede Cressus the riche man: Gold and silver to wille he wan Bi losengerie and bi engin, line1950Ac hit turned him to evel fin.” “Ma dame,” he saide “tel that me, Of sire Cressus, hou ended he?” “Bletheliche, sire, so mot ich thee, So that ye wil the better be.

[Tale 9: Virgilius, Virgil. The empress]

line1955Virgil was whilom a clerk That coude of nigramancie werk. He made a fair conjuring Amideward Rome cheping That no man quenche ne might line1960With no water, I you plight. Alle the poure men of the lond Warmed hem therbi, fot and hond, And made here mete bi that fir; That was a thing of gret matir. line1965And ther biside on a donjoun He kest a man of cler latoun And in his hond an arblast heldand, And therinne a quarel taisand, And in his foreheued was writen with blac line1970Lettres that this word spak: ‘Yif me smiteth ani man, I sschete him anon ogan.’ So hit bifel on a dai A Lumbard com with gret noblai line1975And seth the merveile, saunz dout, And saide to the folk about: ‘Wil ye that I smite this man To loke what he do can?’ fol. 95vaAnd thai saide ‘ya’, and he him smette. line1980The ymage in the fir sschette; The fir aqueinte for evere mo. Sire, was this wel ido?” “Nai, dame,” he saide, “bi hevene king, That was no rightwis doing.” line1985“No sire,” she saide, “withouten fail. Ac Virgil dede yit more mervail. Upon the est gate of the toun He made a man of fin latoun And in his hond of gold a bal. line1990Upon the gate on the west wal Virgil kest an ymage other Right als hit were his owen brother, That al the folk of Rome said With that bal togider thai plaid. line1995That on hit hente, that other hit threw, Mani a man the sothe iknew. Amideward the cité on a stage Virgil made another ymage That held a mirour in his hond line2000And oversegh al that lond. Who wolde pes, who wolde bataille Quik he warned the toun, saunz faile, Aboute Rome seven jurneys. Thous he warned, night and dais, line2005And tho that were rebel ifounde, The Romains gadered hem in a stounde. Thai wente thider quik anon And destrued here fon. The kyng of Poile hadde gret envie line2010That the Romayns made swich maistrie For he ne mighte for non nede Agen Rome in batail spede, That he ne was ever more biwraid, Overcomen, venkud, and bitraid.

line2015Upon a dai he send his sond After alle the wise men of his lond, And tolde hem alle his grevaunce, And saide he wolde hegliche avaunce Who might that ymage fel adoun: line2020He wolde him yif his warisoun. Twei clerkes, brether, that were in Rome That maistri on honde thai nome, fol. 95vbAnd the king hem made seur Of warisoun and gret honeur. line2025Thai dede the king fille twei forcers Of riche gold and of clers And dede hit lade with priveté Into Rome that riche cité. That o forcer thai dolven nowt late line2030In Rome ate est gate Under the ymage that the bal held. This was a dede queinte and beld. That other forcer ful of gold Thai bidolven in the mold line2035Under the west gate that noman wist — This was a dede of queint list. Amorewen thai sschewed hem in Rome And biforn Sire Cressus come, And said: ‘Al hail, sir emperour, line2040It falleth to thee tol of tresour. We conne to do thee understonde Of hid tresor in thi londe. Yif thou wilt half parte with ous, Thou sschalt hit have, Sire Cressus.’ line2045Themperour saide: ‘That I not. Ich have forlorn that everi grot, And therfore frendes I graunt you That ye mai finde with youre vertu The halvendel in alle thingge. line2050Go we aboute the findinge.’ ‘Nai, certes,’ saide the elder brother, ‘Arst we mote don another. Ich mot mete a sweven tonight, And tomorewen, whan hit is light, line2055Sire, thou sschalt have thine wille.’ Thous thai were that night stille. Sone amorewe with god entent Sire Cressus to the est gate went. The clerkes dolven in the mold line2060And fond a forcer ful of gold, And gaf hit up to themperour, And he hit feng with gret honur. Amorewe the yonger saide wel even: ‘Sire tonight me mette a sweven: line2065A richcher forcer than that We sschulle finde ate west gate.’ fol. 96raQuik wente thider themperour And hise barouns of gret honur, And ther thai dolven in the gronde, line2070A riche forcer ther thai founde Ful of red gold igrave, And up to themperour thai hit gave. Themperour held hem so wise, In al the werld was hire pris. line2075Than swor the eldere: ‘Bi blod and bones, Have ich tonight imet ones, I schal thee finde tresor, I telle, Is non richer fram hennes to helle.’ Thai yede to bedde and risen amorewe, line2080Themperour to mochel sorewe. Than saide the elder to themperour: ‘Under the ymage that halt the mirour In al Poile ne Romanye Ne is so mochel tresorie. line2085Moste we delve therunder, Thou sscholdest habbe gold a wonder.’ ‘Nai,’ quath themperour, ‘for eghte non That ymage wolde ich misdon.’ Than seide the yonger to themperour: line2090‘Ther is al Virgiles tresour. We sschulle the ymage so undersette That we ne sschal hit no thing lette, And whan we han the gold in the grounde, We sscholle hit make as we hit founde, line2095For we beth mazouns queinte of cast.’ Than saide Cressus: ‘Goht an hast.’ Thai bigonne hire werk saunz dout And sette postes al about, And bigan to mini under. line2100Herkneth now a selkouth wonder! Thai torent ston fram ston, The fondement tobrast anon. Al dai thai mined doun right Til hit come to the night. line2105On the morewe thai saide to Cressus stille: ‘Of gold thou sschalt have thi wille.’ Themperour wente to his palais, Clerkes also and mani burgeis — Ech man wente to his inne. line2110The clerkes thoughte another ginne. fol. 96rbWhanne ech man slepen, grete and smale, The clerkes to the stage stale And bet a fir strong and sterk. The fir fleghth up into the werk line2115And falsed the siment and the ston. The ymage overthrew anon. And tho the clerkes seghen this, Awai thai flowen, forsothe, iwis. Amorewe themperour aros, line2120Of this dede him sore agros. In his herte was kare and howe, Awai he wolde han iflowe. The smale and the poeple of Rome To sire Cressus thai nome sone line2125And tolde him for coveitise He hadde iloren Romes prise. Thai ladde forth in that stounde And to a table fast him bounde, And red gold quik thai melte, line2130And nose and mouht ful thai helte And eren and eyen also, Therwhiles a drope wolde in go, And seide: ‘Sire, for Godes love, Thou hast mad thral that was above. line2135Nou artou ful, nou make thee heit! Nou wiltou nammore coveit.’ Nou is he ded with mochel schame.” “O, thou seist soth,” he saide, “dame.” “Ya, sire, for his lesingges line2140That he leved twaie false gadelinges He turned to wel ivel fin. Sire, swich sschal be ending thin.” “Nai, dame,” he saide, “yif God wile.” “Yis, sire,” sche saide, “bi right skile, line2145For thou levest wel flaterie That the maistres conne to thee lie. And desire to make thin air He that sschal thee schende vair For he is the fendes chike; line2150Therwhiles he liveth thou mai sike.” “Dame, I sschal kepe me fram kare. Right tomorewe he sschal forthfare.” “Sire,” sche saide, “bi Seint Michel, Thanne dost thou wisliche and wel.”

[Day 6]

fol. 96vaMorewe com, as ye mowe here, line2156Themperour aros with wroth chere, And to his paleys he gan wende. Right biforen his barouns hende He let brenge forht his owen sone, line2160And whan he com out of prisoun, Amideward Rome toun Than com riden maister Catoun. The folk of Rome on him gan crie And saide: “Catoun, kithe thi maistrie, line2165Help thi disciple in this nede.” Catoun light adoun of his stede And grette themperour on his kne, And unethe he wold him se, He seide to him: “Maister Catoun, line2170Thou hast me don wel gret traisoun For to thee and thine fere I bitok mi sone to lere. Ye taughte him to nimen forth min emperice.” “Sire,” quath Catoun, “swich wordes beth nice.” line2175“And his speche is forlore.” “Nai, sire, and he finde youre grace bifore. Thi wif wolde he forlain have nowt, Yif thou hit levest, thou art bicought. Ac yif thou do thi sone duresse, line2180On thee falle swich a destresse And swich a maner vileynie As hadde the burgeis for his pie.” “O maister,” he saide, “what, what? I thee praie, tel me that.” line2185“Sire,” he saide, “what helpeth hit mi sawe, Yif thi sone therwhiles beth islawe? Ac let him fechche quik again And I thee sschal mi tale sain.”

The emperour of Rome, Dioclician, line2190His sone he het fechche anon. Nou everich man that loveth his hale, Lestne wel Catones tale!

[Tale 10: avis, the bird. Fifth sage, Catoun]

“A burgeis was in Rome toun, A riche man of gret renoun. line2195Marchaunt he was of gret avoir And had a wif was queint and fair. But sche was fikel under hir lok And hadde a parti of Eve smok. fol. 96vbAnd manie ben yit of hire kinne line2200That ben al bilapped therinne. The burgeis hadde a pie in his halle That couthe telle tales alle Apertlich, in Freinch langage, And heng in a fair cage, line2205And seth lemmans comen and gon, And teld hire louerd sone anon. And for that the pie hadde isaid The wif was ofte ivel ipaid; And the burgeis lovede his pie, line2210For he wiste he couthe nowt lie. So hit bifil upon a dai, The burgeis fram home tok his wai And wente aboute his marchaundise. The wif waited anon hire prise line2215And sente here copiner fore, And whanne he com to the halle dore, He ne dorste nowt in hie For the wreiing of the pie. The wif him bi the hond hent, line2220And into chaumbre anon thai went. The pie bigan to grede anon: ‘Ya, now mi louerd is out igon, Thou comest hider for no gode. I schal you wraie, bi the rode.’ line2225The wif thought schent she was. A wrenche she thoughte nathelas And clepede a maide to make here bed, And after, bi hir bother red, A laddre thai sette the halle to, line2230And undede a tile or two. Over the pie thai gan handel A cler bacyn and a candel. A pot ful of water cler Thai sschadde upon the pies swer. line2235With bacyn beting and kandel light Thai bobbed the pie bi night, And water on him gan schenche — This was on of wommannes wrenche. Tho the dai dawen gan, line2240Awai stal the yonge man. Men unlek dore and windowe; The pie him sschok with mochel howe, fol. 97raFor ssche was fain that hit was dai. The copiner was went his wai. line2245The gode burgeis was hom icome; Into the halle the wai he nome. The pie saide: ‘Bi God almight, The copiner was her tonight And hath idon thee mochel sschame, line2250Imad an hore of oure dame. And yit hit had ben tonight Gret rain and thonder bright. Sehthen ich was brid in mi nest I ne hadde nevere so ivel rest.’ line2255The wif hath the tale iherd And thoughte wel to ben amered, And saide: ‘Sire thou hast outrage To leve a pie in a kage. Tonight was the weder fair and cler line2260And the firmament wel fair, And sche saith hit hath ben thonder. Sche hath ilowe mani a wonder. But ich be awreke of here swithe, Ne schal I never ben womman blithe.’ line2265The godeman askede his neghebours Of that night and of the ours And thai saide that al that night Was the weder cler and bright. The burgeis saide the pie line2270Ne scholde him nammore lie. Nammo wordes he thar spak, But also swithe his nekke tobrak. And whanne he seth his pie ded For sorewe coude he no red. line2275He segh hir wete and his cage; He thoughte of gile and of outrage. He wente him out, the ladder he segh, And up to the halle rof he stegh. The pot with the water he fond — line2280That he brak with his hond — And manie other trecherie That was idon to his pie. He went him doun, withouten oth, In his herte grim and wroth. line2285And with a god staf ful sket His wif ate dore he bet fol. 97rbAnd bad hir go that ilche dai On alder twenti devel wai. Lo sire,” he seide, “for a foles red line2290The pie that saide soht was ded. Hadde he taken god conseil, His pie hadde ben hol and hail. And also fareth thin emperice Thourgh here resoun sscherewed and nice. line2295Sche goth aboute, dai and night, Thi sone to dethe for to dight. And he be ded, verraiment, Ne worth ther non amendement. Bi here rede ne do thou nout, line2300Yif thou do, thou art bicought. Al the werld thee sschal despise Yif thou do bi here and lete the wise.” Anon themperour saide than: “Catoun, bi him that made man, line2305Don ich wille after thi sawe; Todai ne sschal he nowt be slawe.” The schild bileft in prisoun. Upon his palefrai lep Catoun And hadde mani a blessing line2310For his desciples delivering.

The night is comen, the dai is gon, Themperour wente to chaumbre anon. His quen thanne agen him nam With semblant ase a wroth wimman. line2315“Dame,” he saide, “pluk up thi cher, Other tel me whi thou makest swich cher.” “Hit nis no wonder, sire, bi hevene, Thee sschulle sschende thi maistres sevene That maketh thee to love thi fo, line2320Forthi ich wille nou fram thee go. Ac yif thou dost more bi hire leving, Falle on thee ase dede on Herowde the king That les his sight in wonder wise; Therfore thou might sore agrise.” line2325“Dame,” he saide, “on ech manere, That ilche tale ich moste here.” “Bletheliche sire, so mot ich thee, So that yhe wolde the better be.

[Tale 11: vii sapientes, the seven wise men. The empress]

An emperour was in Rome, line2330The richest man of Cristendome. fol. 97vaHerowdes was his righte name, Wide isprongge his riche fame. He hadde with him seven wise, Als ye han, of grete prise. line2335Al that themperour dede or thout, Bi here conseil al he hit wrout. So her was arered in this toun, Bi here rede and bi hire costom, That who that mette a sweven anight, line2340He scholde come amorewe, aplight, And brenge a besaund to offring, And of his sweven have undoing. So longe thai used this errour Thai were richcher than themperour. line2345So hit bifel upon a dai, Als he went upon his plai, And whan he com to Rome gate, And wolde wenden out therate, He bicam blind so ston. line2350His maistres he ofsente anon, And asked whi he might nowt se Whan he sscholde out of Rome te. Thai asked respit a fourten night, Bi than thai trowede that thai might line2355In hire bokes finde resoun And answeren him with right enchesoun. Respit thai hadde of themperour. He wente him hom to his tour And the maistres hom went, line2360And hire bokes went and trent, Ac thai ne couthe nowt ifinde Whi themperour was blinde. Thai soughte conseil fer and negh Ase man that is queinté. line2365So on a dai after than Thai mette with an hold man And tolde him al hire conseil, And he answered saunz fail: ‘In al the werld nis man liviind line2370That couthe you that sothe find, But yif hit ware child on That never hadde fader non. For he can telle sothes alle That ben don in bour and halle. fol. 97vbYif yhe that schild finde mowe line2376He schal you telle, ich wille avowe.’ The maistres wolde no leng abide, To seche the schild thai gonne ride. On a dai thai com ther Merlin pleid line2380And on of his felawes him traid, And he was wroth, and maked a res, And cleped him sschrewe faderles, And saide he was of the fendes kinde, Hise felawes ever misdoinde. line2385‘Datheit have thou,’ quath child Merlin, ‘Al to loude thou spak thi Latin. Seve maistres I se her come, That han me sought al fram Rome. Thai han with me mochel to done, line2390Ich wil hem helpe swithe sone.’ With that com a man of that lond And brought a besaund in his hond To whom that Merlin saide thous: ‘Man, thou art ful merveilous. line2395Thou woldest have undoing Of thi tonightes meting; Forthi thou woldest that o besaund offer. Bere hit hom into thi coffer And I sschal telle and nowt ne lie line2400What thi meting signefie. Thou mettest tonight in thi donghel Sprong a water out of a wel That was of swithe god savour, And servede thee and thi neyghebour. line2405I wil thee saie the sothe word: The welle bitokneth a gold hord. Go delve anon in thi donghel, Thou sschalt hit finde swithe snel.’ Thanne he dalf therinne anon, line2410And fond of gold ful god won. He gaf the maistres of the gold, Ase moche ase thai nime wold And also his neghebour: He made him riche of that tresour. line2415But Merlin saide, bi hevene king, He wolde therof no thing.

The maistres out of toune nome And ladden Merlyn toward Rome, fol. 98raAnd asked him with milde mouthe line2420Yif he the sothe telle couthe Whi themperour might nowt se Whanne he sscholde out of Rome te. ‘Ya,’ saide Merlin, ‘sikerli, Ich kan telle him ful wel whi.’ line2425The maistres were glad of this And to Rome thai went, iwis. The dai was comen that hem was set, Anon with themperour thai met And saide: ‘The dai is comen of answeriing.’ line2430Quath Herowdes: ‘That is soth thing. Tel me hastilich and sket Thing that yhe me bihet.’ ‘Lo, sire, we han a schild ibrowt That schal thee telle al thi thowt. line2435Lo her, sire, a litel page That schal sai thee thi corage.’ Quath themperour: ‘Of lime and lond, Wil ye his tale take an hond?’ ‘Ya, on al that we have or have mowe, line2440The childes tale we wil avowe.’ ‘Tel me,’ he saide, ‘child Merlin.’ ‘Sir, lad me arst to chaumbre thin.’ Themperour him ladde anon Into his chaumbre of lim and ston, line2445And whanne thai were therinne ischet, Merlin his tonge with wit whet, And spak to themperour: ‘Thou hast,’ he saith, ‘her in thi bour, Fer under thi bed adoun, line2450A gret boiland cauderoun With seven walmes boiland. The walmes han thee abland And therwhiles thai boilland be, Sire, thou ne schalt never ise, line2455And yif thai mai ben queint aright, Thou might wel have thi sight.’ Themperour had wonder of this And let remue his bed, iwis, And tok ten men other twelve, line2460And het hem in the grounde delve. Thai deden ase here louerd hem het And dolven alle there ful sket. fol. 98rbThai ne hadde dolven but a stounde That the caundroun was ifounde line2465That hadde right walmes seven. Tho was ileved the schildes steven.

Quad themperour: ‘Forsothe iwis, Bi thee I wil don after this. Ac telle me, child, som resouns: line2470What bitokneth this boilouns?’ ‘Sire, do out thi folk ichon, And ich wil thee telle swithe anon.’ Themperour anonright Drof out bothe clerk and knight. line2475Thanne beginneth the child Merlin To telle themperour swich Latin: ‘Sire,’ he said, ‘bi God in heven, Thise boilouns that boilen seven Bitoknen thine seven wise line2480That han iwrowt agen the assise. Thai han arrered custumes newe That thee mai wel sore rewe. Be hit other clerk or knight, And him mete a swevene anight, line2485He cometh amorewe, ich understonde, And brengeth a besaund in his honde And to the maistres hire swevene telle. Thai hit undo after her wille — Thai respounde ase hem liketh, line2490Thous thai mani man biswiketh. And for that ilche senne, I finde That thou art bicome blinde.’ ‘Nou tel me child thin entent, What mai me to amendement?’ line2495‘Leve sire, for mi love, Bi on of hem mi tale prove. Leve sire, taketh themprise, And taketh the eldest of the wise. Lat smite atwo his nekke bon: line2500The grettest walm schal quenche anon.’ Themperour dede be the schildes lore, The eldest maister was slein therfore. His heued was into the caundroun cast, The greste walm queynte on hast. line2505Tho themperour wiste this, He let sle alle sevene, iwis. fol. 98vaThe water bicom faire and lithe, Themperour therof was blithe. Anon he wichss therof his hond, line2510And overseth al the lond. And sire, so fare maistres thine; Thai schul thee bringe to mochele pine: Thai han so iblent thee That thou might nowt that sothe ise. line2515Ac yif thou dost more bi here rede, To swiche blendnesse mote thai thee lede As hadde Herowdes the king, That was negh browt to ivel ending.”

“Nai, dame,” he saide, “thou art wilde; line2520Fram swiche schame God me schilde. Fro hem I schal me ful wel kepe, Of hem ne give I nowt an hepe.” “Sire,” sche saide, “thou hast god right. Thai ben about, dai and night, line2525Thee to bigile and bitraie.”

[Day 7]

Cokkes crewe and hit was daie. Themperour aros anon And wente to his halle of ston, And ase themperour, verraiment, line2530Hadde given his sone juggement, The sexte maister com into the halle, And hendeliche he grette hem alle, And saide: “Sire, thou art wel nice To leve so mochel thin emperice. line2535Whanne thou levest hire so That thou wilt thi sone slo, Thanne mot hit so fare bi thee As bi a sschereve of this countré, That hirt his wif with a knif line2540In the wombe; she les hire lif.” Quath themperour: “In alle maner, That ilche tale ich moste her.” “Leve sire, what helpeth mi tale, Yif thi sone tholieth dethes bale? line2545Yif him todai longes rest Ich schal thee telle a newe gest. Swich a tale I thee telle can Ne schaltou never leve wimman.” Themperour hete him let line2550And his sone agen fet. fol. 98vbThe child was pult in presoun; The maister ginneth his resoun.

[Tale 12: vidua, the widow. Sixth sage, Gesse]

“Sire,” he saide, “thou might me leve. Hit was a knight, a riche sscherreve, line2555And had a yong jolif wif That he lovede hire has his lif, And ssche him, bi understonding, Lovede him wel in alle thing. So on a dai him and his wif line2560Was igoven a newe knif — Fair hit was and of egge scharp — And thai on gamen gonne carp. The knight his wif in the wombe carf; For doel therof amorewe starf. line2565He dede gret foli, cert, Or too tendre was his hert. Sone amorewe erliche He was biwaked richeliche And wel faire browt on erthe line2570After that he was werthe. The leuedi saide for no wenne Sche ne wolde never wende thenne But as hir louerd for hir daide Sche wolde be ded and bi him laide. line2575Here frendes seghen al that cas And comen to hire to make solas And saiden: ‘Dame gent and fre, Of thiselve have pité, For thou art fair and yong, saunz fail, line2580And maist the werld mochel avail. Some knight thee wedde of noblai And have with him moche to plai, Gode children bigeten and faire. Gentil dame, debonaire, line2585Lete awai thi mourning, And tak thee to som conforting.’ ‘That wil I do for no wele Ac die ich wille on his beriele,’ She saide, ‘Allas and wailawo! line2590Nel ich hennes nevere go, Ne confort take never mo.’ Here frendes were sori tho. A logge thai made upon his grave For sche wolde ther bilave, fol. 99raAnd maked hire a ful fair fer, line2596And fond hire that night stover, And left here alone, And sche made reuli mone. That ich dai thai were inome line2600The thre theves, bi commun dome. The thre theves were knightes That were ihonged anonrightes For thai hadde the countré anuwed And with robberie destrwed; line2605Anhonged thai were alle thre. A knight of the countré held his fe For to loke the thre knighttes Upon the galewes thre nightes. He com to the galewes armed wel line2610Bothe in iren and in stel For to make the ferst night ward. The weder was cold and froward. He was forcold and lokede aboute And was war withouten doute line2615Of the fir in the chirchehawe And thiderward he gan to drawe For to have som warmyng, And fond the leuedi doel makyng, And bad she sscholde late him in. line2620She saide she nolde, bi Seint Johain. ‘A yis,’ he seide, ‘leve dame, I nelle thee do harm ne sschame.’ He swor as he was gentil knight. Sche let him in anonright. line2625He sat and warmed him bi the fer, He biheld the leuedis cher And segh swich semblant she made And saide: ‘Dame, thou art a gade, That thou mournest for the ded line2630That mai thee do nother god ne qued. Confort thi self, pluk up thin herte, Swich mourning than wil thee smerte. Of this mourning thou hast unright; Thou scholdest lovye som gentil knight line2635That that thee might do sum solas.’ And sche saide: ‘Allas! allas! He was so smal and so gent, I ne mai love non other, verraiment.’ fol. 99rbNe hadde he seten ther but a while line2640He thoughte men mighte don him gile. He priked to the galewes with his fole And fond that a thef was istole. Tho was him wo, veraiment: He scholde lese his avauncement line2645But he mighte finde the thridde, The thef that heng the twaie amidde. He thought that wimmen couthe red To help men at her ned. She ne was nowt fer, but somdel negh, line2650He telde hire the sorewe that he dregh And bisoughte hire of god conseiling For that he was in gret mourning. She saide: ‘Sire, ich wille helpe thee, So that thou wille spousi me.’ line2655‘Yis, dame,’ he saide, ‘preciouse. Yif thou me helpe, ich wille thee spouse.’ She let here sorewe awai gon And saide: ‘Help, lemman, anon, Help delf up mi lord that was, line2660He schal us helpen in this cas, And honge we him in his entaile.’ Here red was don, saunz faille. Hit ne mai nowt ben forhole: Thai baren him forth for him was stole. line2665Thanne saide the knight to the leuedi: ‘Who mai this knight hongi? I thee segge, bi hevene king, I nolde him honge for no thing. For yif ich hadde ihonged a knight, line2670I schol be coward icleped with right.’ ‘Sire,’ she saide, ‘ich wil fol fawe Heghe him honge and updrawe.’ The leuedi dede in wode gere A rop aboute hire lordes swere, line2675And drow him up and heng him fast. The knight of hire dedes was agast, And saide: ‘Dame, be gode mounde, The stolen knight hadde a wonde In his heued that was biknawe line2680Wharbi him knewe heghe and lowe. And but thi louerd swich on have, I thee sai, so God me save, fol. 99vaSone withinne litel while Worht iparceived oure gile.’ line2685‘Sire,’ sche saide, ‘tak thi swerd And in the heued smit mi louerd. Thanne schal hit ben non understonding But it was he that er thar hing.’ ‘Nai, dame, for moche ne lite, line2690The dede knight wolde I nowt smite.’ ‘No, sire,’ sche saide, ‘thi swerd me reche And ich him schal, with min hond, teche Hou Godes grame com to toune Right amideward his croune.’ line2695The leuedi tok and smot with mayn Al amideward the brayn. Thanne the knight wel understod That fals and fikel was hire blod, And saide: ‘Yit unliche he beth. line2700Broken were his fore teth.’ ‘Sire,’ sche saide, ‘smit hem out.’ ‘Nai, dame,’ he saide, ‘withouten dout.’ ‘Than wil ich,’ she saide, and tok a ston And smot hem out everichon. line2705Whan this dede was ido The leuedi saide the knight to: ‘Sire, now ich have iwonne thi love.’ ‘Nai, dame,’ he saide, ‘bi God above, For gold no silver, lond ne house, line2710Thi false bodi ne wolde I spouse. For also woldestou serve me Hase thou hast don thi louerd so fre. Thou hast itawt me a newe ran That I schal never leve wimman. line2715For there thai make semblant fairest, Thai wil bigile thee altherformest.’ Sire, and on thee falle swich a strif Als dede the sscherreve of his wif Yif thou for thin emperice wild line2720Wolle sle thin owen child. Ac, sire, abid til another morewe, On hire sschal falle alle the sorewe. And whanne thou herest thi sone speke, Rightfulliche thou him awreke.” line2725Themperour saide: “So ich schal.” And thanne departed the curt al, fol. 99vbSome to castel, and some to tour, Themperour wente to his bour. Themperice made semblant ille line2730For sche ne hadde nowt hire wille. His owen men nathelas Made wel god solas. Themperour was browt abedde, With riche baudekines ispredde. line2735Themperice him com to, Als sche was ar iwont to do: “Sire, hastou owt herd the geste Whi men made folen feste?” “Nai, dame,” he saide, “gent and fre, line2740I thee praie thanne telle hit me.”

[Tale 13: Roma, Rome. The empress]

“Sire,” she saide, “withouten dout, Whilom was Rome bilayn about, With seven soudans biset, Wal and gate and castelet, line2745The honur of Rome for to abate, And for to strwe Seinte Petres sate, That is to seie, Cristendom to felle, And Cristen men to aquelle. The folk hem ful wel held, line2750Wise of speche, of dede beld. ‘To seven wise men toke we this toun, To kep hit fram destructioun.’ Bi his rede hit was itake To seven wise men to biwake. line2755A moneth thai kept hit, Ase we findeth in the writ. Whan hit com to the moneth ende, Thai ne might hit no lenger defende, But ase thai dede a fair queintise — line2760Herkneth now in what wise! A man ther was, so seith the rime, That hit Gemes in that time. He was on of the seven wise, Ther he dede a fair queintise. line2765He let him make a garnement, Ase blak ase ani arnement, And heng theron squirel tail, A thousand and mo, withouten fail. A viser yit he made more, lineA2770Two faces bihinde and two bifore, fol. 43rAnd two nosys in eyther halfe, lineE2787More horrybeler thenne any calfe, And the tonge also there on rede, As evyr was a brennynge lede. lineE2790He sent to the soudans, samfayle, He shulde be redy to byde batayle, And they answeryd alle in haste They shulde ben redy leste and moste. A morowe come thys Junyus lineE2795And stode in a toure that het Crassus — The hyest toure that was ovyr the walle — That men myght see hym ovyr alle. Than hadde he made a woundyr merroure And bare with hym into the toure, lineE2800And uppon hys hede dede that vysoure, And lokyd apon the merroure clere, And two swerdys he ganne owte brayde, And skyrmyde faste and on layde, And made more noyse and boste lineE2805Thenne wolde a kyng and hys hoste. fol. 43vThe Saresonys behelde hyt, They were ny woode and owte of wyt. The myrrowre grete noyse made, That alle they were in grete drade. lineE2810The gatys of Rome were uppe caste And they went owte faste, And emperoure and hys men Slayne of them by nine or ten, And thys Junyus in his wyse, lineE2815Savyde Rome with hys quentyse. In a monythe that comythe in the yere, That men calle hit Janyuer, The fyrste day thereof, iwys, Junyus wrotte that ylke prys. lineE2820And thus shulle the seven wyse Dyssayve thee thorowe hyr quentyse. Ye shalle be fayne, or ye sterve, Oppon youre kneys them to serve, For in ham certeys ys alle youre tryste, lineE2825Ye wene eche of hem be as Cryste.” Whenne the emperoure hyrde hir speke “Dame,” he sayde, “wylle ben awreke.” And sayde hys sone shulde be slawe, And hys maysters ihange an drawe. lineE2830Anon commaundyd hym forthe brynge And sle hym withowte lettynge. And they lad hym thorowe the toune, There come hys mayster Maxencyon And say that chylde to dethe warde. lineE2835He gretyd the emperoure with wordys harde: “Syr,” he sayde, “withowtyn fabylle, Youre herte ys nothyng sadde ne stabylle. Nowe thou wylte thy sone slene And othyr whyle hym drawe and fleen, lineE2840Anothyr whyle thou wylt hym save: Thys ys the maner alle of a knave. And yf he mote tyl tomorowe lyfe, fol. 44rFor alle thys worlde thou noldyste hym gyfe. Ye beleve too moche youre wyfes tale, lineE2845That bryngythe you in moche bale, And yf thou done aftyr hyr rede, Thy fayr sone moste be dede. Ryght so mot hit fare by thee As fylle by an erle of farre contré.” lineE2850“Nowe, mayster,” quothe the emperoure, “Telle me that tale for thy honoure.” “Yes,” quothe the mayster, “welle fayne. Thenne save thy sone certayne, And tylle tomorowe gyf hym respyte: lineE2855Thenne wylle he hym selfe aquyte. Thanne shalt thou the sothe isee, Ho hathe the wronge, thy wyf or he, For tomorowe he shalle speke And ryght fully thanne be awreke.” lineE2860“I graunt welle,” quothe the emperoure, “By Jhesu Cryste oure savyoure. And whether of whom hathe the wronge, He shalle in dethe dy stronge. Nowe, mayster, bothe curteys and fre, lineE2865Of that erlle thou telle me.” Nowe thynkythe the mayster for certayne To quyt the emperice tale agayne. And hys ensampylle fayre he spake, And put the blame apon hyr backe.

[Tale 14: inclusa, the recluse. Seventh sage, Maxencyon]

lineE2870“Sir,” he sayde, “I wylle not lye, In the Kyngdome of Houngerye There was a woundyr doughty knyght, And dremyde a dreme uppon a nyght That he lovyd a lady fre lineE2875But he ne wyste in what contré. But welle he wyste yf he myght Uppon hyr have any syght Of hyr he shulde have knowynge fol. 44vAnd that thorowe hys nyghtys dremynge. lineE2880And ryght so, syr, that lady free, Suche a dremyng dremyde she That a knyght she had in honde, But she ne wyste in what londe Ne in what contré was hys dwellynge; lineE2885For hym she made grete mornynge. The knyght wente withowtyn lette To seche the lady that he ofmette. He ne wyste where to fynde that lady schene, Therefore the more was alle hys tene. lineE2890Hys waye he rode monythys thre, No tydyng yet of hyr hyrde he. So far hathe the knyghte hys way inome, That into Poyle he ys icome. There besyde a castelle he fonde lineE2895An erle hit was, I undyrstonde. The erle hathe a gentyl wyfe That he lovyd as hys lyfe, And for gelous he lette hyr be sett In a toure welle faste ishytte. lineE2900She come not owt day ne nyght To play hyr with swayne ne knyght. Anothyr erle agayn hym tho Warred and dyd hym moche woo, And thoughte to dystrye alle hys londe, lineE2905And thought to halde hit in hys honde. And soo there come rydyng thys knyght That had sought the lady bryghte. He lokyd uppe into the toure And say that lady as whyte as flowre, lineE2910And anon as he hyr say He began to syng and make play, And whenne she hyrde hym syng there, Unnethe she myght forbere That she ne hadde callyd hym thore. fol. 45rIn hyr herte she began to seke sore: lineE2916Sho wolde have callyd hym anon, But for hyr lorde she dryst not don, That sate bynethe sykerly Undyr the toure to make hym mery. lineE2920The knyght come forthe withowtyn lette, The erle in kneys he grette, And sayde: ‘Syr, I am a knyght That in many contreys I was holde wyght. But there I dar not com nowe lineE2925For a knyghte that I there slowe, And, syr, yf thy wylle be, Here I wylle abyde with thee.’ ‘Welcome,’ sayde the erle tho, ‘I have nede of thee and of mo, lineE2930For many enemys I have withowte That dystryethe my londe aboute.’ So that with the erle dwellyd that knyght And wan hys londe ayenne in fyght, And slayne hys enemys in fyghtynge. lineE2935The erle lovyd hym ovyr alle thynge And toke hym hys goodys into hys hande, And made hym stywarde ovyr alle hys lande. So oppon a day with moche honoure The knyghte come playnge by the toure lineE2940That the lady was yn idone. Sho lokyd owte and saye hym sone And toke a letter iwretyn fulle ryghte, And caste hit downe before the knyght. The knyght toke the letter anon lineE2945And undyde hit and lokyd there on. He hadde wounder whoo hit threwe But thereby the lady he knewe, And that he shulde with hyr play For any thyng that any man couthe say. fol. 45vThe knyght thoughte hym fulle stylle lineE2951Howe he myght have hyr at wylle, And to the erle he went fulle evenne, And prayde hym to gyf hym levenne To make a chambyr byfore the toure lineE2955‘That may ben for my honoure.’ The erle thoughte non evyl thon And grauntyd the knyght to done son. The knyght toke workemen anon And made a chambyr of lyme and ston. lineE2960Thenne thought he uppon sum quent gynne, Howe he myght to that lady wynne. Thenne was there a mason fre, The slyeste man that myght be. The knyght aftyr the mason sent lineE2965And sayde to hym al hys entent: ‘May I telle thee of my prevyté?’ ‘Ye, syr,’ sayde the mason fre, ‘Boldely, syr, your wylle ysayne And I shalle you nevyr bewreyne.’ lineE2970The knyght sayde: ‘Sythe hit ys so, I wylle thee telle what thou moste doo. For in thys toure there ys a lady That I have lovyd fulle hertely, And in that toure thou moste make lineE2975An hoole for that ladys sake, That I may loude and stylle Gon to hyr and doo my wylle.’ The mason sayde hit shulde ben done And a prevy hoole he made sone. lineE2980Whenne he hadde done hys quentyse, Fulle evylle he quyttyde hys servyse: The knyght hym slowe there, certayne, For he shulde hym not bewrayne. And whenne he hadde don so sykerly lineE2985He went uppe to that fayre lady. Whenne sche hym sawe she made blys fol. 46rAnd kyste many sythys, iwys, And wyste that hit was that gentyl knyght Of whom hyr dremyng was anyght. lineE2990‘Syr,’ she sayde, ‘welcome ye be,’ And so tyl hyr answeryde he, And sayde: ‘Lemman lady, God thee save allemyghty.’ He toke hyr in hys armys two lineE2995And dyd with hyr that he wolde do. Whenne he hadde done hys lykyng The lady toke hym hyr golde rynge For he shulde thyngke hyr uppon. He toke hys leve and went anon lineE3000And wente as he cam certayne, And stoppyd the hole faste agayne, And to hys lorde he went yare, Ryght as no thyng amys were. Thenne wasche they and went to mete lineE3005And as they togedyr sete The erle sawe hys golde rynge there And hadde grete wondyr howe hit were, For the erle hadde for grete love That golde ryng to hys wyf yove. lineE3010The erle was curteys and welle ithaught And to the knyght sayde ryght naught. But whenne the erle hadde etyn anon, Towarde hys towre he gan gone To wyt where the ryng was. lineE3015The knyght was ware of that cas And wente thedyr byfore certayne And toke the lady the rynge agayne. The erle com to hyr wel yare And axyde of hyr howe she dyd fare. lineE3020The lady answeryd hyr lorde thenne: ‘Ishytt I am fro alle men, Comforte of man have I no dele. fol. 46vHowe shalle I thanne fare wele?’ ‘Lemman,’ sayde the erle tho, lineE3025‘Wher haste thou my golde ryng do?’ Tho answeryde that lady sone: ‘What have ye there with to done? Hyt ys not away, I say, trewly, Lo, here hit ys alredy.’ lineE3030And shewyde hym the ryng samfayle, The erle hadde thereof grete mervayle, For lyke hit was that golde rynge That the knyght hathe, withowte lesynge. The erle dwellyd wythe hyr al nyghte lineE3035For joye of the rynges syght, And for alle that, withowtyn lye, Blereyd were bothe hys yee. A morowe he ros fulle erly And lefte a bedde that fayre lady. lineE3040He sent aftyr that knyght preste To hunt with hym in the foreste. ‘Nay, certeys,’ sayde the knyghte tho, ‘I may not nowe with you go, For me ys brought a newe thynge, lineE3045That ys goode to my lykynge, For my frendys have won my pes In my contray, withowtyn les — Al with ryght and not with woo — For a knyght that I dyd slo. lineE3050Myne owne lemman hathe me sought And tydyng therof to me ibrought. Therefor, syr, tomorowe at mete I pray you, syr, with me to ete And comforte hyr as can ye.’ lineE3055‘Gladdely,’ quothe the erle so fre, ‘I wylle hyr chere and eke solas, Al that I may er that sho pas, And to thy lemman thys same day fol. 47rI come to solas hyr that I may. lineE3060And whenne thee lykythe, sende aftyr me: Anon I wol come to thee.’ And whyle the erle in the woode was For to hunt and have solas, The knyght hys owne howse gan dyght lineE3065With ryche clothys imade aryght, And aftyr that he gan to gon To that lady hym sylfe alone, And brought hyr into hys hous As thoughe hit were hys owne spouse, lineE3070And made hyr done off hyr robe anon That she had tho hyr uppon, And dyd on a robe of countray — Suche another they nevyr say, There was no man farre ne ny lineE3075That evyr aftyr that robe sey — And hyr fyngers he dyd uppon Ryche golde ryngys ful many on. Hyr hede he dyght fulle gaylyche With kerchyffes and with garlondys ryche. lineE3080At shorte wordys, withowtyn mo, The knyght dygysyd hyr so That hyr lorde ne non othyr wyght Ne shulde knowe hyr aryght. Sone aftyr thys fro huntyng come lineE3085The erle and hys mayny home. The knyght hadde alle redy dyght Mete and drynke inowe, iplyght. He fet the erle to hys hous thanne And made hym wasche with hys lemman, lineE3090And aftyrwarde togedyr hem set, And made hys owne wyf hys met. The erle hyr comfortyd and welle wende he Hyt hadde ben a lady of farre contré, And alle the whyle that he by hyr was, fol. 47vOfte he lokyd in hyr face, lineE3096And moche woundyr evyr hadde he What fayre lady hyt myght be, For she was moche lyke hys wyf That he lovyd as hys owne lyf. lineE3100And that lady nevyrthelas Made the erle grete solas, And bade hym ete and be glad, And evyr he sat as he were mad, And thoughte hys toure was so stronge lineE3105That no man myght done hym wronge, Ne come to hys wyf at morne ne eve Withowte hys love and hys leve, And thought in herte fulle prevylyche That meny woman ys othyr lyche, lineE3110Al as was thys golde rynge so fre That he had iwent that hys hit had be: Amasyd he was of hys lady yonge As he was of that golde rynge. The knyght comfortyd the erle so fre lineE3115And bade hym ete and mery be. Thenne sayde the erle: ‘Knyght, for thy curtesy, Of whennys ys thys fayre lady?’ Thenne sayde the knyght with wordys fre: ‘Hyt ys a lady of my contré. lineE3120She ys my lemman, withowte lesynge, She hathe me brought good tydynge And that I may wende hyr whythe Into my contray in pes and grethe. Therefore, syr, I wyl home gone lineE3125To vysyte my frendys everychon.’ Whenne they hadde etyn and made them glad, The erle in thought semyd mad Tylle that he in hys towre were To speke with that lady dere, fol. 48rFor lyke sho was that lady lineE3131That sate hym by. Anon as the erle was iwent The knyght toke the lady gent And dyd on hir robe agayne lineE3135And lad hyr into the toure certayne. Unnethe the knyght was agon, That the erle cam in anon, And there he founde hys lady In hyr chambyr alle redy. lineE3140Certes, thenne was he gladde And sone aftyr he was alle madde, For lyke hyr was that lady That at the mete sate hym by. With hys wyfe he was al nyght lineE3145And dyde unto hyr as was ryght. So dyde he aftyr nevyr mo And sone aftyr hit fylle so: The knyght hyrede hym a shype yare And shypmen that were thare, lineE3150And lete hys armure thereyn bere, Al hys harnysse and hys gere. A morne ros the erle fro that lady swete, And allone in bedde hyr lete, And to chyrche he gan fare lineE3155For to hyre hys masse there. And sone aftyr that anon The knyght into the toure gan gon And brought the lady adowne fulle sone Into hys hous as he was wone, lineE3160And appareylyd hyr fayre iwys With clothys aftyr hyr devyse, And went anon unto hys lorde, And bade hym with mylde worde, And bade hym by hys leve fol. 48vTo hefe hys lemman to ben wyve. lineE3166Syr, that same fayre lady That at the mete sat hym by He was in wylle to wedde hyr thanne That longe had ben hys lemman. lineE3170‘Certeys,’ quothe the erle, ‘hit ys my wylle Alle that you ax to fullefylle.’ And aftyr that anon-ryghtys Aftyr hyr went two gentylle knyghtys And fette that lady to chyrche sone, lineE3175As he was wonnte to done. The erle toke the lady blyf And gaf the knyght to hys wyf. The preste was there alle redy And spousyd the knyght and the lady. lineE3180And whenne the mas was idone, The knyght name the lady anone And lad hyr with grete solas To havyn there the shyppe was. Anon as they come thare, lineE3185They fonde the shyppe al yare. The erle anon toke by the honde Hys wyf that stode uppon the stronde, And bade the knyghte shulde hyr take Forto ben hys worldely make. lineE3190The knyght of the erle toke the lady And sayde: ‘My lorde, graunt mercy.’ The maryner hys shyppe gan loke And at the erle there leve they toke, And saylyd forthe in hyr way. lineE3195The erle hys wyf laste ther say, And worthy he ys to lesse hys play That fro hym gevythe hyt away, fol. 49rAs the erle gaf hys wyf; Therefore he lad in sorowe hys lyf. lineE3200Whanne the knyght was thys gon, The erle wente home anon And went into hys toure fulle ryght Forto sene hys lady bryght, And whenne he was in the toure an hy, lineE3205Al aboute he caste hys ye, And whanne he sawe not hys lady, He made sorowe inowe certaynely. He began to make reuly mon, For sorowe he ne wyste what to done. lineE3210To be ware too late he beganne, Therefore hym scornyd meny a man.” Tho sayde the mayster that tolde thys: “Syr emperoure,” quothe he iwys, “For ye farythe as dyd he: lineE3215Whenne thy wyfe spekythe to thee, Ye levythe hyr bothe day and nyght, Yee, more thenne youre owne syght. And I telle in goode fay, Ye shalle knowe tomorowe day lineE3220Ho ys gylty in thys stryffe, Thy sone othyr thy owne wyf.” “That lykethe me,” quothe the emperoure, “By Godde that ys my savyoure, And whenne I wote hoo hathe the wronge lineE3225He shalle dy in dethe fulle stronge. If he shalle speke than am I fayne, Thys day shalle not my sone be slayne,” “And tomorowe, syr, he shalle telle Why thy wyffe wolde hym quelle.” lineE3230“That wolde I see,” quothe the emperoure, “Levyr then al the worldys tresoure.” fol. 49vThe day passyd, the nyght came, And every man hys wey name, The emperice made sorowe and wo lineE3235For the chylde shulde speke so.

[Day 8]

Amorowe aros the emperoure And went to chyrche with honour, And went to chyrche to hire masse With hys lordys bothe more and lesse. lineE3240Alle the lordys of that contré, Of lordys and ladys grete plenté, Come to chyrche that same day To hyre what the chylde wolde saye. Alle that myght thedyr areche lineE3245Come to hyre the chyldys speche. And hys maysters everychon Come thedyr alle at one, And aftyr the emperoure ys masse The chylde was dyght with grete rychesse lineE3250And two of the maysters yare Fette forthe the chylde there, And was set alle in a fayre plas Ryght before the fadyrs face. He prayde to God whythe good wylle lineE3255That the pepylle moste ben stylle. Thenne stode the chylde uppe anon Byfore hem everychon And sayde to hys fadyr fulle reuly: “For Goddys love, syr, marcy. lineE3260Syr, thou myght wete, yf thou wylte, With wronge ye wolde have me spylte. I shalle you telle withowtyn lacke Why that I noo rather spake: For I and my maysters alle lineE3265Sawe in the mone what shulde falle fol. 50rAnd yf I hadde erste ispoke. In grete sorowe I hadde ben loke, And my masters everychon For me to dethe shulde have ben don. lineE3270But, syr, woundyr I have of thee That thou woldyst serve soo me As dyde a man of wyckyde blode That caste hys sone into the salte flode For that he sayde that he shulde be lineE3275A ryccher man than evyr was he.” The emperoure sayde: “My sone so dyre, Nowe wolde I thys tale hyre, And thy tale telle me anon As alle the maysters have don. lineE3280Eche hathe tolde hys tale for thee, For thou shuldyste isavyd be.” “Certeys,” quothe the chylde, “I shalle fullefylle And telle my tale at youre wylle.

[Tale 15: vaticinium, the prophesy. The prince]

Sir, sum tyme in Rome cytté lineE3285Was a man of grete posté That hadde a sone wyse and bolde, Of fiften wynter he was olde. And apon a day hys fadyr and he Saylyd togedyr in the see; lineE3290Towarde an yle they wolde wynde And ryght uppon hyr shippys ende Lyght two ravenys and made a crye. The goode man hadde wondyr sykerly. Thenne sayde the fadyr to the sone: lineE3295‘What may be thys moche mone, That thys ravenys dothe thys crye? I ne wot what hyt may sygnyfye.’ ‘No fadyr,’ sayde the chylde, iwys, ‘I wotte what hyr cryynge ys. lineE3300For they say thus in hyr stevyn fol. 50vThat thoroughe the myght of God of hevyn I shalle so ryche a man be, That with youre yeen ye shalle se. The whylys my hondys waschyn bene, lineE3305Ye shalle be fayne to holde the bason, And my modyr, withowtyn fayle, Shalle serve me of the towele.’ For thes wordys the fadyr was wrothe And hys sone was hym lothe. lineE3310‘Sone,’ he sayde, ‘what? Shalte thou Be ryccher man then I am nowe? Nay, certys, that shalle not be,’ And caste hys sone into the see. Whenne the chylde was in the see flode, lineE3315He cryde to God with mylde mode. God hyrde that chylde and gaf hym grace, He come to londe in a fayre place, Uppon a fayre roche of stone. Four dayes mete ete he non, lineE3320Mete ne drynke ne othyr thynge, But foulys he hyrde mery synge. The foulys sayde in hir songe: ‘Chylde, thynke thee not too longe, But Jhesu Cryste hathe hyrde the bone lineE3325And wolle thee helpe fulle welle sone.’ Sone aftyr by that place so wylde Came a fyscher and saw the chylde, And saye the chylde, God hit wote. Anon he toke hym into hys bote lineE3330And ledde hym thens thirty myle Unto a castelle, a welle stronge pyle, And solde the chylde there so snelle To the constabylle of the castelle. fol. 51rFor hym he gaf twenti pounde lineE3335Of goode mony, hoole and sounde. The constabylle lovyd welle that chylde For hit was bothe meke and mylde. And in that contré there was a kynge That makyd mykylle mornynge lineE3340For the ravenys cryde on hym ay, Whether he went by nyght or day. For moche woundyr hadde the kyng What myght betokeny hyr cryyng, And apon a day he sente hys sonde lineE3345Aftyr the wysyste man of hys londe To wyt of hym trewly What betokenythe the ravenys cry. The chylde bethought hym anon To the kyngys corte for to gon lineE3350Sum maner goode there to lere And the kyngys wylle to hyre. Whenne the lordys were icome everychone, The kynge stode hym up anon. ‘Lordyngys,’ he sayde, ‘I shalle telle you, lineE3355If any of you can telle me nowe, Why thys ravenys cry on me — Nyght and day where ever I be — If any of you can telle me blythe, My doughter he shalle have to wyfe, lineE3360And halfe my londe by my day, And aftyrwarde alle, par ma fay.’ The kyng hadde sayde hys wylle, Alle the lordys stodyn fulle stylle. There was no man, withowte lesynge, lineE3365That couthe thereof telle the kynge. But the chylde couthe fulle welle And bade the constabil of the castelle Gone ax the kynge anon ryght, fol. 51vIf he wolde holde that he hyghte. lineE3370And he wolde telle in alle thyng What betokenythe the ravenys cryynge. Tho sayde the kynge: ‘By Goddys ore, I wylle holde, and moche more He shalle have ho telle hit me lineE3375What the ravenys cryynge be.’ And with that worde the chylde up stode Among hem alle with mylde mode And sayde: ‘Lordyngys everychone, See ye the ravyn that stont alone, lineE3380That makythe so moche mornyng and sorowe Bothe in eve and in morowe? Tylle I hit to thee, syr kyng, That ys the famal, withowte lesynge. And also, syr, there stondythe twyne lineE3385Bothe togedyr, as I you seyne. Ye seythe welle, syrys, everychone, The more crythe the lasse apone. The grete ravyn that before ys, iwys, Yonde female alone was make ys. lineE3390She dwellyde with hym thirty yere, The female that stondythe alone here, And that grete ravyn blacke Yonde female alone hadde forsake, For hit was tho a dyre yere, lineE3395And scars of vytayle and of stouyre. The grete ravyn the femalle forsoke And the lytylle ravyn to make hyr toke, And in hys cryyng he saythe, per fay, He wylle nevyr latte hyr away lineE3400Tylle the dome be gyf of thee Hos make that she shalle be. Whenne they hadde hyrde youre wylle, That ye have sayde thorowe skylle, fol. 52rWhyche of hem hyr shalle have, lineE3405He wylle nomore aftyr thee crave, Ne nevyr more uppon thee crye, But in hyr wey they wylle flye.’ The kyng thorowe the baronys wylle Gaf the dome thorowe goode skylle lineE3410That she shulde ben hys fere That kepte hyr in the dyre yere, And sayde he shulde hyr forgo That wolde not kepe hyr in hyr wo Whanne the derthe was harde and felle, lineE3415For he ne rought, forsothe to telle, To what dethe she hadde ben brought, And therefore nowe he gete hyr nought. Whanne the ylder ravyn of the two Herde the dome igyf was soo, lineE3420He made suche a crye anon, That they woundyrde everychone, And made sorowe, and fly away, That nevyr men of hym say. That othyr ravyne toke the femele lineE3425And evyr aftyr they ferde wele. Whenne the kyng sawe alle thys, He gaf the chylde ys doughter, iwys, And halfe hys kyngdome by hys day, And alle aftyr hym the sothe to say. lineE3430Alle the lordys hym love began, For he was so wyse a man. In shorte tyme, withowte lesynge, The chylde hym selfe was made kynge, And the fadyr that hym begate lineE3435Ne hys modyr wyste not of thate, But, as we fynde in gestys iwryte, Into suche povert they were ismete, For shame they fledde bothe frame home And into that contrey they come, fol. 52vThere hyr sone was lorde and kynge, lineE3441And there they made hyr dwellynge. And soo the kyng lay there bysyde And wyste hit in a lytylle tyde, And uppon a day he callyd hym to lineE3445Two servantys, and bade them go, And bade hem inquere aftyr a man That late was come into cuntré thanne From hys cuntreye newe there to wone, That hytte Barnarde norysshe sone: lineE3450‘I wylle tomorne dyne with hym there.’ The servantys wente bothe ifere And aftyr withynne a lytylle stonde The goode man there they fonde, And gretyn hym with chere gladde, lineE3455And tolde hym as the kyng hym bade. ‘Leve syres,’ answeryde he, ‘The kyng ys welcome to me And in hert I am welle sory, For I am noo thyng redy lineE3460To welcome my lorde the kynge For I am not at my lykynge. But suche goode as I have Hyt ys redy to hym, God me save.’

Amorowe the kyng thedyr came, lineE3465And with hys fadyr hys in he name. He and hys baronys everychone Wente to mete with hym anon. Thenne brought hys fadyr a bason Of metelle bothe goode and fyne, lineE3470And hys modyr a fayre towayle, And wolde have servyd hym, samfayle, Fulle mekely at hys waschynge. But that wolde not suffer the kynge, And bade a servande take the towelle thare fol. 53rOf the modyr that hym bare, lineE3476And sayde: ‘Fadyr nowe falle hit ys That I tollde you sum tyme, iwys, Whenne ye me caste into the see, For I sayde that I shulde be lineE3480A ryccher man than evyr ye were: I am your sone byfore you here.’ Whenne hys fadyr hyrde thys He was fulle sore adrad, iwys, For to have bene sone aslawe lineE3485Or ellys hangyde or drawe.

“Sir,” sayde the chylde of mykylle honour To hys fadyr the emperoure, “Thus me thynkythe, fadyr, by Goddys tre, That ye wolde thys fare by me, lineE3490And also lytylle gylte have I As hadde the chylde, certenly, That was for hys sothe sawe Caste into the seys wawe. So caste ye me thorowe treson lineE3495With moche wo in youre preson For my goodenys and my wysdome Whenne that I fro schole come. But thoughe I come to grete honoure, Thenne ye ben my fadyr, emperoure. lineE3500Wene ye that ye wolde me greve? Nay, fadyr, ye may me leve, Hangyd rathyr shulde I be Ere I dede suche shame to thee. But certys, fadyr, whenne I home come, lineE3505Youre wyf into hyr boure nome And bade I shulde lyen hyr by, And for I nolde, certaynly, She rente hyr clothys alle bydene fol. 53vFor encheson that I shulde wene lineE3510That I hadde hyr inforsyd soo. But certeys er I hadde soo do, Rathyr my dethe I wolde thole And to have ben brent alle to cole.”

[Conclusion]

“Dame,” quothe the emperoure at o brayde, lineE3515“Ys hit sothe that my sone hathe sayde?” “Ye, syr,” she sayde, iwys, “Youre sone saythe noo thyng amys; For certeys, syr, done youre lykynge: On me he saythe noo lesynge, lineE3520For I me drad,” sayde she, “That he shulde dystrye me Whenne that he to age come, And take fro me the emperice of Rome; Therefore hit was alle in my thought lineE3525Hym to dethe have ibrought.”

“Dame,” quothe the emperoure, “by Synt Martyn, And siche maner dethe shalle be thyn. That ordeynyste for my chylde, Thou shalte have, be Mary mylde. lineE3530And for thou haste opon hym lowen, Thou shalt drynke as thou haste browyn.” Hys lordys he callyd to hym everychon An they come to hym anon.

“Lordelyngys,” he sayde, “I commaunde you lineE3535A grete fyre that ye lete make nowe To brenne thereyn thys womman soo felle. For certys, she hathe hyt deservyd welle Sythe she ordaynyd syche treson To sle my sone agayne reson.” lineE3540Anon they ordaynyd a fyre fulle bryght That was bothe huge ande grete to hys syght, And bonde the ladys hondys fulle harde, fol. 54rAnd thenne cast ynne the emperyce in the mydwarde; And thys was the emperice ibrent, lineE3545As welle worthy was by juggement. And clerkys tellyd in hyr wretynge: Of falssenys comythe evylle endynge.

Ande the chylde aftyr levyde fulle long And lovyd evyr troughthe, and hatyd wronge, lineE3550And alle hys lyftyme with moche honoure He kepte hys fadyr the emperoure. And whenne that hys fadyr dede was, He lete make a nobylle plas, And a fayre abbeye he lete begynne, lineE3555And seven schore monkys brought thereyn, And evyr more to rede and synge For hys fadyr, withowte lesynge. And tho was the chylde made emperoure And kept hys londe with grete honoure. lineE3560Of al knyghtys he bare the prys And among alle men moste wys, And moste he lovyde stedefastenys, In worde and dede, more and les, And therefore God gaffe hym goode lyf, lineE3565And brought hym fayre owte of stryf. Nowe have ye hyrde every man Of the Emperoure Deoclycyan And allso of hys fals wyfe, And howe the chylde come owte of stryffe, lineE3570And of the maysters ye have hyrde — The wysyste men of alle myddelle hyrthe — Howe they savyde the chylde so yonge Thorowe hyr wysdome and hyr connynge. And nowe ben dede the maysters seven. lineE3575Jhesu, that ys kyng of hevyn, Graunte us er we hens wende fol. 54vHouselle and shryfte and goode ende, The blysse of hevyn above, Jhesu for hys modyr love.

lineE3580Amen

Expliciunt septem sapientes.