OPENING OF THE THIRTIETH OF GOWER'S
'CINKANTE BALADES.'

Si com la nief1, quant le fort vent tempeste,
Pur halte mier se torne çi et la,

Ma dame, ensi2 mon coer3 manit en tempeste,
Quant le danger de vo parole orra,
La nief qe votre bouche soufflera,
Me fait sigler sur le peril de vie,
Quest en danger, falt quil merci supplie.

OPENING OF THE ORIGINAL PROLOGUE TO THE 'CONFESSIO AMANTIS.'

Of hem, that writen us to-fore,
The bokës dwelle, and we therfore
Ben taught of that was writen tho.
Forthy good is, that we also
In oure time amonge us here
Do write of-newë some matere
Ensampled of the olde wise,
So that it might in suche a wise,
Whan we be dede and elles where,
Beleve to the worldes ere
In time comend' after this.
But for men sain, and soth it is,
That who that al of wisdom writ,
It dulleth ofte a mannes wit
To hem that shall it al day rede,
For thilke cause, if that ye rede,
I wolde go the middel wey
And write a boke betwene the twey,
Somwhat of lust, somwhat of lore,
That of the lasse or of the more
Som man may like of that I write.
And for that fewë men endite

In oure Englisshe, I thenkë make
A bok for king Richardës sake,
To whom belongeth my legeaunce
With all min hertes obeisaunce,
In al that ever a legë man
Unto his king may don or can.
So ferforth I me recommaunde

To him, which all me may commaunde,
Preiend' unto the highe regne,
Which causeth every king to regne,
That his corone longe stonde.

I thenke, and have it understonde,
As it befell upon a tide,

As thing, which shulde tho betide,
Under the town of newë Troy,
Which tok of Brute his firstë joy,
In Themsë, whan it was flowend;
As I by botë cam rowend,
So as fortune her time sette,
My legë lord perchaunce I mette,
And so befell, as I came nigh,
Out of my bote, whan he me sigh,
He bad me come into his barge.
And whan I was with him at large,
Amongës other thinges said,
He hath this charge upon me laid
And bad me do my besinesse,
That to his highë worthynesse
Some newe thing I shulde boke,
That he himself it mightë loke
After the forme of my writing.
And thus upon his commaunding
Min herte is well the morë glad
To write so as he me bad;
And eke my fere is well the lasse,
That non envië shall compasse ;
Without a resonable wite

2

To feigne and blame that I write.

I praying.

2

cause of censure.

ALEXANDER AND THE ROBBER.

[Confessio Amantis, lib. iii.]

Of him, whom all this erthe dradde,
Whan he the world so overladde
Through werre, as it fortuned is,
King Alisaundre, I redë this,
How in a marchë', where he lay,
It fell parchaunce upon a day
A rover of the see was nome",
Which many a man had overcome,
And slain and take her good away.
This pilour, as the bokës say,
A famous man in sondry stede
Was of the werkës, whiche he dede.
This prisoner to-fore the kinge

Was brought, and ther upon this thinge
In audience he was accused;

And he his dede had nought excused,
And praid the king to done him right,
And said Sire, if I were of might,
I have an herte liche unto thine,

For if thy power were mine,
My wille is most in speciall
To rifle and geten over all
The large worldës good about.
But for I lede a pover route

And am, as who saith, at mischefe,
The name of pilour and of thefe
I bere, and thou, which routes grete
Might lede, and take thy beyete',
And dost right as I woldë do,
Thy name is nothing cleped so,
But thou art namëd emperour.
Our dedes ben of oon colour,
And in effecte of oon deserte;

But thy richesse and my poverte

They be nought taken evenliche,
And netheles he that is riche
This day, to-morwe he may be pover,
And in contrarie also recover
A pover man to grete richesse.
Men sain forthy, let rightwisenesse
Be peised' even in the balaunce.

The king his hardy contenaunce
Beheld, and herde his wordës wise,
And said unto him in this wise:
Thin answere I have understonde,
Whereof my will is, that thou stonde
In my service and stille abide.
And forth withal the same tide

He hath him terme of life witholde,
The more and for he shuld ben holde,
He made him knight and yaf him lond,
Whiche afterward was of his hond
An orped knight in many a stede,
And gret prowesse of armës dede,
As the croniques it recorden.

THE STORY OF CONSTANCE

[Confessio Amantis, lib. ii.]

But what the highë God woll spare
It may for no perill misfare.

This worthy maiden, which was there,
Stode than, as who saith, dede for fere,
To se the fest, how that it stood,
Whiche all was torned into blood.
The dissh forth with the cuppe and all
Bebled they weren over all.

6

She sigh hem die on every side,

No wonder though she wepte and cride,

' poised, weighed.

2 retained for his life-time.

that he might be bound to him the more. MS. It means 'bold.'

besmeared.

3 and in order horped' in the Harleian

saw.

Makend many a wofull mone.
Whan all was slain but she al-one,
This olde fend, this Sarazin,

Let take anone this Constantin,
With all the good she thider brought,
And hath ordeigned as she thought
A naked ship withoutë stere,

In which the good and her infere'
Vitailled full for yerës five,
Where that the wind it woldë drive,
She put upon the wawes wilde.

But he, which alle thing may shilde,
Thre yeer til that she cam to londe,
Her ship to stere hath take on honde,
And in Northumberlond arriveth,

And happeth thannë that she driveth
Under a castell with the flood,
Whiche upon Humber bankë stood:
And was the kingës owne also,
The whiche Allee was cleped tho,
A Saxon and a worthy knight,
But he beleveth nought aright.
Of this castell was castellaine
Elda, the kingës chamberlaine,
A knightly man after his lawe.
And when he sigh upon the wawe,

The ship drivend alonë so,

He badde anon men shulden go

To se, what it betoken may.

This was upon a somer day,

The ship was loked, and she founde3.

Elda within a litel stounde

It wist, and with his wife anon
Toward this yongë lady gon,

Where that they foundë gret richesse
But she her wolde nought confesse,
Whan they her axen what she was.
And netheles, upon the cas,

•
⚫ together.

2 taken in hand.

8 Constance was found.