WHAN ended was the Tale of Melibee
And of Prudence and hire benignitee
Our Hofte faide, As I am faithful man,
And by the precious corpus Madrian,
I hadde lever than a barell of ale

That goode lefe my wif had herde this 'Tale,
For the n'is no thing of fwiche patience
As was this Melibeus wif Prudence.

By Goddes bones whan I bete my knaves
She brineth me the grete clobbed staves,
And cryeth, Slee the dogges everich on,
And breke hem bothe bak and every bon.
And if that any neighebour of mine
Wol not in chirche to my wif encline,
Or be fo hardy to hire to trefpace,
Whan fhe cometh home fhe rampeth in my face,
And cryeth, Falfe coward! wreke thy wif:
By corpus Domini I wol have thy knif,

And thou fhalt have my diftaf and go fpinne.
Fro day til night right thus fhe wol beginne.
Alas! fhe faith, that ever I was yshape
To wed a milkfop or a coward ape,
That wol ben overladde with every wight:
Thou darft not ftonden by the wives right.
This is my lif but if that I wol fight,
And out at dore anon I mote me dight,
Or elles I am loft, but if that I
Be like a wilde leon fool-hardy.

I wote wel fhe wol do me flee fom day
Som neighebour, and thanne go my way,
For I am in perilous with knif in honde
Al be it that I dare not hire withftonde,
For fhe is bigge in armes by my faith,
That fhal he finde that hire mifdoth or faith.
But let us pafie away fro this matere.

For by my fadres foule, as to my domé,
Thou art a maifter whan thou art home;
No poure cloisterer, ne non novice,
But a governour bothe ware and wife,
And therwithal of braunes and of bones
A right wel faring perfone for the nones.
pray to God yeve him confufion
That first thee brought into religion.
Thou woldest han ben a trede-foul a right
Haddeft thou as grete leve as thou hast might
To parfourme all thy luft. in engendrure
Thou haddeft begeten many a creature.
Alas! why wereft thou fo wide a cope?
God yeve me forwe but and I were pope
Not only thou but every mighty man,
Though he were fhore ful high upon his pan,
Shuld have a wif, for al this world is lorn,
Religion hath take up all the corn

Of treding, and we borel men ben fhrimpes;
Of feble trees ther comen wretched impes.
This maketh that our heires ben fo felendre
And feble that they monn not 'wel engendre;
This maketh that our wives wol affaye
Religious folk, for they moun better paye
Of Venus payements than mowen we;
God wote no Lufheburgees payen ye.
But be not wroth, my Lord, though that I play;
Ful oft in game a fothe have I herd fay.

This worthy Monke toke all in patience,
And faide, I wol don all my diligence,
As fer as founeth into honeftee,

To tellen you a Tale, or two or three;
And if you lift to herken hiderward
I wol you fayn the lif of Seint Edward,
Or elles tragedies first I wol telle,

For ус fhul telle a Tale trewely.
Lo! Rouchefter ftondeth here fafte by;

Ride forth, min owen Lord, breke not our game.
But by my trouthe I can no telle youre name;
Whether fhal I call you my Lord Dan John.
Or Dan Thomas, or elles Dan Albon?
Of what hous be ye by your fader kin?
I vow to God thou haft a ful faire fkin.
It is a gentil pafture ther thou goft;
Thou art not like a penaunt or a goft.
Upon my faith thou art fom officer,
Som worthy fextein, or fom celerer,

Tragedie is to fayn a certain ftorie,
As olde bookes maken us memorie,
Of him that stood in gret profperitee,
And is yfallen out of high degree
In to miferie, and endeth wretchedly;
And they ben verfified communly

Of fix feet, which men clepen Exametron:
In profe eke ben endited many on,
And eke in mctre in many a fondry wife.
Lo this declaring ought ynough fuffice.
Now herkeneth if you liketh for to here.
But first I you befeche in this matere,

Though I by ordre telle not thise thinges, Bit of popes, emperoures, or kinges, After hir ages, as men written finde,

But telle hem fom before and fom behinde,

As it now cometh to my remembrance, Have me excused of min ignorance.

I wot bewaile in manere of tragedie
The harm of hem that ftode in high degree,
And fellen fo that ther n'as no remedie
To bring hem out of hir adverfitee;
For certain whan that Fortune lift to flee
Ther may no man of hire the cours withholde:
Let no man truft on blinde profperitee;
Beth ware by thise ensamples trewe and olde.

Lucifer.

At Lucifer, though he an angel were
And not a man, at him I wol beginne;
For though Fortune may non angel dere,
From high degree yet felle he for his finné
Doun into helle, wheras he yet is inne.
O Lucifer! brightest of angels alle,

New art thou Sathanas, that maist not twinné
Out of miferie in which that thou art falle.

Adam.

Le! Adam in the feld of Damafcene With Goddes owen finger wrought was he, And not begeten of mannes fperme unclene, And we're all Paradis faving o tree. Had never worldly man fo high degree As Adam, til he for mifgovernance Was driven out of his profperitee

To labour, and to helle, and to mefchance.

Sampfon.

Lo! Sampfon, which that was annunciat
By the angel long or his nativitee,
And was to God Almighty confecrat,
And tode in nobleffe while he mighte fee:
Was never fwiche another as was he,
To fpeke of ftrength and therto hardineffe;
But to his wives tolde he his fecree,

Thurgh which he flow himself for wretchedneffe.

A tragical difcourfe of many who have fallen from Auhettate into extreme mifery. Urry.

Sampfon, this noble and mighty champion
Withouten wepen fave his handes twey
He flow and all to-rente the leon,
Toward his wedding walking by the wey.
His falfe wif coude him fo plefe and pray
Til fhe his confeil knewe, and the untrewe
Unto his foos his confeil gan bewray,
And him forfoke, and toke another newe.
Three hundred foxes toke Sampfon for ire
And all hir tayles he togeder bond,
And fet the foxes tayles all on fire,
For he in every tayl had knit a brond,
And they brent all the cornes in that lond,
And all hir oliveres and vines eke.
A thoufand men he flow eke with his hond,
And had no wepen but an affes cheke.

Whan they were flain fo thursted him that he
Was wel nie lorne, for which he gan to preye
That God wold on his peine han fom pitee,
And fend him drinke, or elles mofte he deye;
And of this affes cheke that was fo dreye
Out of a wang toth sprang anon a welle,
Of which he drank ynough, fhortly to feye.
Thus halp him God, as Judicum can telle.

By veray force at Gafa on a night,
Maugre the Philiftins of that citee,
The gates of the toun he hath up plight,
And on his bak ycarried hem hath he
High on an hill, wher as men might hem fe.
O noble mighty Sampfon, lefe and dere!
Haddeft thou not told to women thy fecree,
In all this world ne had ther ben thy pere.

This Sampfon never fider dranke ne wine,
Ne on his hed came rafour non ne here.
By precept of the meffager divine,
For all his ftrengthes in his heres were:
And fully twenty winter yere by yere
He hadde of Ifrael the governance;
But fone fhal he wepen many a tere;
For women fhuln him bringen to meschance,

K

Unto his lemman Dalida he told
That in his heres all his ftrengthe lay,
And falfely to his fomen fhe him fold;
And fleping in hire barme upon a day
She made to clip or fhere his here away,
And made his fomen al his craft efpien;
And whan that they him fond in this array
They bond him faft, and putten out his eyen.
But or his here was clipped or yfhave,
Ther was no bond with which men might him
But now is he in prifon in a cave,
[bind,
Wheras they made him at the querne grinde.
O noble Sampfon, strongest of mankind,
O whilom juge in glory and richeffe !
Now mayeft thou wepen with thin eyen blind
Sith thou fro wele art falle in wretchedneffe.

The ende of this caitif was as I fhal feye:
His fomen made a fefte upon a day,
And made him as hir fool before hem pleye,
And this was in a temple of gret array:
But at the laft he made a foule affray,
For he two pillers fhoke and made hem falle,
And doun fell temple and all, and ther it lay,
And flow himfelf, and eke his fomen alle.

This is to fayn, the princes everich on,
And eke three thoufand bodies, were ther flain
With falling of the gret temple of fton
Of Sampfon now wol I no more fain :
Beth ware by this ensample old and plain
That no men tell hir confeil to hir wives
Of fwiche thing as they wold han fecree fain,
If that it touch hir limmes or hir lives.

Hercules.

Of Hercules the foveraine conquerour
Singen his werkes laude, and high renoun,
For in his time of ftrength he was the flour.
He flow and raft the fkinne of the leon;
He of Centaures laid the boft adoun;
He Harpies flow, the cruel briddes felle ;
He golden apples raft fro the dragon;
He drow out Cerberos, the hound of helle.
He flow the cruel tirant Bufirus,

And made his hors to fret him flesh and bon;
He flow the firy ferpent venemous;
Of Achelous two hornes brake he on;
And he flow Cacus in a cave of fton;
He flow the geaunt Anteus the ftrong;
He flow the grifely bore, and that anon;
And bare the hevene on his nekke long

Was never wight fith that the world began
That flow fo many monftres as did he ;
Thurghout the wide world his name ran,
What for his ftrength and for his high bountee ;
And every reuame went he for to fee.
He was fo ftrong that no man might him let;
At bothe the worldes endes, faith Trophee,
In ftede of boundes he a piller fet.

A lemman had this noble champion That highte Deianire, as fresh as May: And, as thise clerkes maken mention,

She hath him fent a fherte fresh and gay:

Alas! this fherte, alas and wala wa!
Envenimed was fotilly withalle,
That or that he had wered it half a day
It made his flesh all from his bones falle

But natheles fom clerkes hire excufen
By on that highte Neffus, that it maked:
Be as may be, I wol hire not accufen;
But on his bak this fherte he wered al naked,
Til that his flesh was for the venim blaked;
And whan he faw non other remedie
In hote coles he hath himselven raked,
For with no venime deigned him to die..

Thus ftarf this worthy mighty Hercules.
Lo! who may truft on Fortune any throw
For him that folweth all this world of pres
Or he be ware is oft ylaid ful lowe :

Ful wife is he that can himfelven knowe.
Beth ware, for whan that Fortune lift to glofe
Than waiteth fhe hire man to overthrowe
By swiche a way as he wold left suppose.

Nabuchodonofor.

The mighty trone, the precious trefor, The glorious fceptre, and real majestee, That hadde the King Nabuchodonofor, With tonge unnethes may defcrived be: He twies wan Jerufalem the citee,

The veffell of the temple he with him ladde,
At Babiloine was his foveraine fee,

In which his glorie and his delit he hadde.
The fayreft children of the blood real
Of Ifrael he did do gelde anon,
And maked eche of hem to ben his thral.
Amonges other Daniel was on,

That was the wifeft child of everich on,
For he the dremes of the king expouned,
Wher as in Caldee clerk ne was ther non
That wifte to what fin his dremes founed.
This proude king let make a ftatue of geld
Sixty cubites long and feven in brede,
To which image both yonge and old
Commanded he to loute and have in drede,
Or in a fourneis ful of flames rede
He fhuld be brent that wolde not obeye;
But never wold affenten to that dede,
Daniel, ne his yonge felawes tweye.

This king of kinges proud was and elat
He wend that God that fit in majestee
Ne might him nat bereve of his eftat:
But fodenly he loft his dignitee,
And like a beft him femed for to be,
And ete heye as an oxe, and lay therout:
In rain with wilde beftes walked he
Til certain time was ycome about.

And like an egles fethers wex his heres,
His neyles like a briddes clawes were,
Til God relefed him at certain yeres,
And yaf him wit, and than with many a tere
He thanked God, and ever his lif in fere
Was he to don amis, or more trefpace :
And til that time he laid was on his bere ·

He knew that God was ful of might and grace

Baltbafar.

His fone, which that highte Balthasar;
That held the regne after his fadres day,
He by his fader coulde not beware,
For proude he was of herte and of array,
And eke an ydolafter was he ay.
His high eftat affured him in pride;

But Fortune caft him doun (and ther he lay)
And fodenly his regne gan devide.

A fefte he made unto his lordes alle
Upon a time, and made hem blithe be,
And than his officers gan he calle;
Goth bringeth forthe the veffels, quod he,
Which that my fader in his profperitee
Out of the temple of Jerufalem beraft,
And to our highe gooddes thanke we
Of honour, that our eldres with us laft.
His wif, his lordes, and his concubines,
Ay dronken, while hir appetites last,
Out of thise noble veffels fondry wines.
And on a wall this king his eyen caft,
And faw an hand armles that wrote ful fast,
For fere of which he quoke and fiked fore!
This hand that Balthafar fo fore agaft,
Wrote Mane techel Phares and no more.
In al that lond magicien was non
That coud expounen what this lettre ment,
But Daniel expouned it anon,

And faid, O King! God to thy fader lent
Glorie and honour, regne, trefour and rent,
And he was proud and nothing God ne dradde,
And therfore God gret wreche upon him fent,
And him beraft the regne that he hadde.

He was out caft of mannes compagnie.
With affes was his habitation,

And ete hey as a best in wete and drie,
Til that he knew by grace and by refon
That God of heven hath domination
Over every regne and every creature,
And than had God of him compaffion,
And him reftored his regne and his figure.
Eke thou that art his fone art proud alfo
And knoweft all thise thinges veraily,
And art rebel to God and art his fo:
Thou dranke eke of his veffels boldely,
Thy wif eke and thy wenches finfully
Dranke of the fame veffels fondry wines,
And heried falfe goddes curfedly,
Therfore to thee yfhapen ful gret pine is.

This hand was fent fro God that on the wall
Wrote Mane tesbel Phares, trufteth me.
Thy regne is don; thou wayest nought at all :
Divided is thy regne, and it fhal be
To Medes and to Perfes yeven, quod he.
And thilke fame night this king was flawe,
An Darius occupied his degree,
Though he therto had neither right ne lawe.
Lordinges, enfample hereby moun ye take
How that in lordship is no fikerneffe,
For whan that Fortune wol a man forfake
She bereth away his regne and his richeffe,
And eke his frendes, bothe more and leffe ;
For what man that hath frendes thurgh Fortune
Mishap wol make hem enemies I geffe.
This proverbe is ful foth, and fule commune.

Zenobia.

Zenobia, of Palmerie the quene, (As writen Perfiens of hire nobleffe) So worthy was in armes, and fo kene, That no wight paffed hire in hardineffe, Ne in linege, ne in other gentilleffe. Of kinges blood of Perfe is the defcended; I say not that she hadde most faireneffe, But of hire fhape fhe might not ben amended

From hire childhode I finde that she fleddo Office of woman, and to wode she went, And many a wilde hartes blood she shedde With arwes brode that the to hem fent; She was fo fwift that the anon hem hent: And whan that she was elder fhe wolde kille Leons, lepard, and beres al to-rent, And in hire armes weld hem at hire wille.

She dorft the wilde beftes dennes feke, And rennen in the mountaignes all the night, And slepe under the bush; and the coude eke Wraftlen by veray force and veray might With any yong man, were he never so wight Ther mighte nothing in hire armes ftonde: She kept hire maidenhode from every wight; To no man deigned hire for to be bonde.

But at the laft hire frendes han hire maried To Odenat, a prince of that contree, Al were it so that she hem longe taried, And ye fhul understonden how that he Hadde fwiche fantafies as hadde fhe; But natheles whan they were knit in fere They lived in joye and in felicitee, For eche of hem had other lefe and dere;

Save o thing, that fhe n'olde never affente By no way that he fhulde by hire lie But ones, for it was hire plaine entente To have a childe the world to multiplie; And al fo fone as that she might efpie That she was not with childe with that dede Than wold the fuffer him don his fantasie Eftfone, and not but ones out of drede.

And if the were with child at thilke caft No more fhuld he playen thilke game Till fullen fourty days weren past, Than wold fhe ones fuffre him do the fame. Al were this Odenate wild or tame He gate no more of hire, for thus she sayde, It was to wives lecherie and shame In other cas if that men with hem playde. Two fones by this Odenate had the, The which the kept in vertue and lettrure. But now unto our Tale turne we. I fay fo worshipful a creature,

And wife therwith, and large with mesure,
So penible in the werre, and curteis eke,
Ne more labour might in werre endure,
Was non, though all this world men fhulden feke
Hire riche array ne mighte not be told,
As wel in veffell as in hire clothing;
She was all clad in pierrie and in gold;
And eke she lefte not for non hunting
Kij