Who dare do thing, whiche loue ne dare? To loue is euery lawe vnware,
But to the lawes of his hest
The fisshe, the fowle, the man, the best, Of all the worldes kynde lowteth. For loue is he, which nothyng douteth, In mannes herte where it sitte. He counteth nought toward his witte, The wo, no more than the wele, No more the hete, than the chele, No more the wete, than the drie, No more to liue, than to die: So that to fore ne behynde
He seeth no thyng, but as the blynde Withoute insight of his courage, He doth meruailes in his rage,
To what thyng that he wol hym drawe, There is no god, there is no lawe Of whom that he taketh any hede. But as baiarde the blynde stede, Til he falle in the ditche a midde, He gothe there no man will hym bidde, He stant so ferforthe out of rewle, There is no witte, that maie hym reule. And thus to teil of hym in soothe, Full many a wonder thyng he doothe, That were better to be lafte: Amonge the whiche is withe crafte, That somme men clepen sorcerie, Whiche for to wynne his drewrie, With many a circumstance he vseth, There is no point, whiche he refuseth.
Hic contra amori inobedientes ad commendationem obedientie confessor super eodem exemplum ponit, vbi dicit, quod cum quidam regis Secilie filia in sue inuentutis floribus pulcherrime exeius Nouerce incantationibus in vetulam turpissimam transformata extitit, Florencius tunc imperatoris Claudii nepos, miles in armis strennuissimus amorosisque legibus intendens, ex sua obedientia in pulchritudinem pristinam reformauit.
THERE was whylom by daies olde A worthy knight, as men tolde: He was neuew to the emperour, And of his courte a courteour. Wyfeles he was, Florent he hight, He was a man, that mochell might: Of armes he was desyrous, Chiualrous, and amorous,
And for the fame of worldes speche Strange auentures wolde he seche. He rode the marches all aboute. And fell a tyme, as he was out, Fortune, whiche maie euery threde To breke and knitte of mans spede
Shope, as this knight rode in a pase That he by strength taken was, And to a castell thei him ladde, Where that he fewe frendes hadde. For so it fell that ilke stounde, That he hath with a deadly wounde (Fightende) his owne hande slaine Branchus, whiche to the Capitaine Was sonne and heire, wherof ben wrotk The father and the mother bothe. That knight Branchus was of his honde The worthiest of all his londe : And faine thei wolde do vengeance Upon Florent, but remembrance, That thei toke of his worthines Of knighthode, and of gentilnes, And how he stode of cosinage To themperour, made them assuage, And durst not slaine hym for feare. In great desputeson thei were Amonge them selfe, what was the best. There was a ladie (the sliest
Of all that men knewe tho So olde) she might vnnethes go: And was grandame vnto the dede, And she with that began to rede: And she saide, she wolde bring him in That he shall him to death winne, All onely of his owne grante,
Through strength of veray couenant Without blame of any wight.
Anone she sent for this knight,
And of hir sonne she aleide
The death, and thus to him she saide.
Florent howe so thou be to wite Of Branchus deathe, men shall respite As nowe to take auengement,
Be so thou stonde in iudgement Upon certaine condicion,
That thou vnto a question,
Whiche I shall aske, shalt answer. And ouer this thou shalt eke swere, That if thou of the sothe faile, There shall none other thynge auaile, That thou ne shalt thy dethe receiue, And for men shall the not deceiue, That thou therof mightest ben aduised, Thou shalt haue daie and time assised, And leue, safely for to wende.
Be so that at thy daies ende
Thou come ageine with thine auise.
This knight, whiche worthy was and wise, This lady praieth, that he maie witte, And haue it vnder seales writte,
What question it shulde bee,
For whiche he shall in that degree Stonde of his life in ieopardie. With that she freygneth companie And saith Florent, on loue it hongeth All that to myn askyng longeth, What all women most desyre: This woll I aske, and in thempire Where thou hast most knowlageyng Take counseile of this askynge.
Florent this thynge hath vndertake, The tyme was sette, and daie take: Under his seale he wrote his othe In suche a wyse, and foorthe he gothe
Home to his emes courte againe, To whome his auenture plaine He tolde, of that is hym befall. And vpon that thei were all The wisest of the londe assent. But netheles of one assent
Thei might not accorde plat. One sayde this, an other that, After the disposicion Of naturall complexion.
To some woman it is plesance, That to an other is greuance. But suche a thynge in speciall, Whiche to them all in generall Is most plesant, and moste desired Aboue all other, and most conspired, Suche one can thei not finde By constellacion, ne by kinde. And thus Florent without cure Muste stonde vpon his auenture, And is all shape vnto his liere, And as in defaulte of his answere This knight hath leauer for to die Than breke his trouth, and for to lie In place where he was swore. And shapeth him gone ayene therfore, Whan time come he toke his leaue, That lenger wolde he not beleue, And praieth his eme he be not wroth: For that is a point of his othe
He saith, that no man shall him wreke, Though afterwarde men here speke, That he perauenture deie.
And thus he went forth his weie
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