CHAPTER III.

Right with these wordes she stinte of that lamentable

melodye; and I gan with a lyvely herte to praye, if that

it were lyking unto her noble grace, she wolde her deyne to

declare me the mater that firste was begonne, in which she lefte

and stinte to speke beforn she gan to singe.

'O,' quod she, 'this is no newe thing to me, to sene you men

desyren after mater, whiche your-selfe caused to voyde.'

'Ah, good lady,' quod I, 'in whom victorie of strength is proved

above al other thing, after the jugement of Esdram, whos lordship

al lignes: who is, that right as emperour hem commaundeth,

whether thilke ben not women, in whos lyknesse to me ye aperen?

For right as man halt the principaltè of al thing under his beinge,

in the masculyne gender; and no mo genders ben there

but masculyn and femenyne; al the remenaunt ben no gendres but

of grace, in facultee of grammer: right so, in the femenyne, the

women holden the upperest degree of al thinges under thilke

gendre conteyned. Who bringeth forth kinges, whiche that ben

lordes of see and of erthe; and al peoples of women ben born.

They norisshe hem that graffen vynes; they maken men comfort

in their gladde cheres. Her sorowe is deth to mannes herte.

Without women, the being of men were impossible. They conne

with their swetnesse the crewel herte ravisshe, and make it meke,

buxom, and benigne, without violence mevinge. In beautee

of their eyen, or els of other maner fetures, is al mens desyres;

ye, more than in golde, precious stones, either any richesse.

And in this degree, lady, your-selfe many hertes of men have

so bounden, that parfit blisse in womankynde to ben men wenen,

and in nothinge els. Also, lady, the goodnesse, the vertue of

women, by propertè of discrecion, is so wel knowen, by litelnesse

of malice, that desyre to a good asker by no waye conne they

warne. And ye thanne, that wol not passe the kynde werchinge

of your sectes by general discrecion, I wot wel, ye wol so enclyne

to my prayere, that grace of my requeste shal fully ben graunted.'

'Certes,' quod she, 'thus for the more parte fareth al mankynde,

to praye and to crye after womans grace, and fayne many fantasyes

to make hertes enclyne to your desyres. And whan these

sely women, for freeltè of their kynde, beleven your wordes, and

wenen al be gospel the promise of your behestes, than graunt[en]

they to you their hertes, and fulfillen your lustes, wherthrough

their libertè in maystreship that they toforn had is thralled; and

so maked soverayn and to be prayed, that first was servaunt,

and voice of prayer used. Anon as filled is your lust, many of you

be so trewe, that litel hede take ye of suche kyndnesse; but

with traysoun anon ye thinke hem begyle, and let light of that

thing whiche firste ye maked to you wonders dere; so what

thing to women it is to loven any wight er she him wel knowe,

and have him proved in many halfe! For every glittring thing

is nat gold; and under colour of fayre speche many vices may

be hid and conseled. Therfore I rede no wight to trust on you

to rathe; mens chere and her speche right gyleful is ful ofte.

Wherfore without good assay, it is nat worth on many †of you

to truste. Trewly, it is right kyndely to every man that thinketh

women betraye, and shewen outward al goodnesse, til he have

his wil performed. Lo! the bird is begyled with the mery voice

of the foulers whistel. Whan a woman is closed in your nette,

than wol ye causes fynden, and bere unkyndenesse her †on

hande, or falsetè upon her putte, your owne malicious trayson

with suche thinge to excuse. Lo! than han women non other

wreche in vengeaunce, but †blobere and wepe til hem list stint,

and sorily her mishap complayne; and is put in-to wening that

al men ben so untrewe. How often have men chaunged her

loves in a litel whyle, or els, for fayling their wil, in their

places hem set! For fren[d]ship shal be oon, and fame with another

him list for to have, and a thirde for delyt; or els were he lost

bothe in packe and in clothes! Is this fair? Nay, god wot.

I may nat telle, by thousande partes, the wronges in trechery

of suche false people; for make they never so good a bond,

al sette ye at a myte whan your hert tourneth. And they that

wenen for sorowe of you deye, the pitè of your false herte is flowe

out of towne. Alas! therfore, that ever any woman wolde take

any wight in her grace, til she knowe, at the ful, on whom she

might at al assayes truste! Women con no more craft in queynt

knowinge, to understande the false disceyvable conjectementes

of mannes begylinges. Lo! how it fareth; though ye men

gronen and cryen, certes, it is but disceyt; and that preveth wel

by th'endes in your werkinge. How many women have ben

lorn, and with shame foule shent by long-lastinge tyme, whiche

thorow mennes gyle have ben disceyved? Ever their fame shal

dure, and their dedes [ben] rad and songe in many londes; that

they han don, recoveren shal they never; but alway ben demed

lightly, in suche plyte a-yen shulde they falle. Of whiche slaunders

and tenes ye false men and wicked ben the verey causes; on you

by right ought these shames and these reproves al hoolly discende.

Thus arn ye al nighe untrewe; for al your fayre speche, your

herte is ful fickel. What cause han ye women to dispyse? Better

fruite than they ben, ne swetter spyces to your behove, mowe ye

not fynde, as far as worldly bodyes strecchen. Loke to their

forminge, at the making of their persones by god in joye of

paradyce! For goodnesse, of mans propre body were they

maked, after the sawes of the bible, rehersing goddes wordes in

this wyse: "It is good to mankynde that we make to him an

helper." Lo! in paradyse, for your helpe, was this tree graffed,

out of whiche al linage of man discendeth. If a man be noble

frute, of noble frute it is sprongen; the blisse of paradyse, to

mennes sory hertes, yet in this tree abydeth. O! noble helpes

ben these trees, and gentil jewel to ben worshipped of every

good creature! He that hem anoyeth doth his owne shame; it is

a comfortable perle ayenst al tenes. Every company is mirthed

by their present being. Trewly, I wiste never vertue, but a woman

were therof the rote. What is heven the worse though Sarazins

on it lyen? Is your fayth untrewe, though †renegates maken

theron lesinges? If the fyr doth any wight brenne, blame his

owne wit that put him-selfe so far in the hete. Is not fyr gentillest

and most comfortable element amonges al other? Fyr

is cheef werker in fortheringe sustenaunce to mankynde. Shal

fyr ben blamed for it brende a foole naturelly, by his own stulty

witte in steringe? Ah! wicked folkes! For your propre malice

and shreudnesse of your-selfe, ye blame and dispyse the precious[es]t

thing of your kynde, and whiche thinges among other

moste ye desyren! Trewly, Nero and his children ben shrewes,

that dispysen so their dames. The wickednesse and gyling of

men, in disclaundring of thilke that most hath hem glad[d]ed

and plesed, were impossible to wryte or to nempne. Never-the-later

yet I say, he that knoweth a way may it lightly passe; eke

an herbe proved may safely to smertande sores ben layd. So

I say, in him that is proved is nothing suche yvels to gesse.

But these thinges have I rehersed, to warne you women al at

ones, that to lightly, without good assaye, ye assenten not to

mannes speche. The sonne in the day-light is to knowen from

the moone that shyneth in the night. Now to thee thy-selfe

(quod she) as I have ofte sayd, I knowe wel thyne herte; thou

art noon of al the tofore-nempned people. For I knowe wel the

continuaunce of thy service, that never sithen I sette thee

a-werke, might thy Margaryte for plesaunce, frendship, ne fayrhede

of none other, be in poynte moved from thyne herte; wherfore

in-to myne housholde hastely I wol that thou entre, and al the

parfit privitè of my werking, make it be knowe in thy understonding,

as oon of my privy familiers. Thou desyrest (quod she)

fayn to here of tho thinges there I lefte?'

'Ye, forsothe,' quod I, 'that were to me a greet blisse.'

'Now,' quod she, 'for thou shalt not wene that womans condicions

for fayre speche suche thing belongeth:—

CHAPTER IV.

Thou shalt,' quod she, 'understonde first among al other

thinges, that al the cure of my service to me in the parfit

blisse in doing is desyred in every mannes herte, be he never

so moche a wrecche; but every man travayleth by dyvers studye,

and seke[th] thilke blisse by dyvers wayes. But al the endes

are knit in selinesse of desyre in the parfit blisse, that is suche

joye, whan men it have gotten, there †leveth no thing more to

ben coveyted. But how that desyre of suche perfeccion in

my service be kindely set in lovers hertes, yet her erroneous

opinions misturne it by falsenesse of wening. And although

mannes understanding be misturned, to knowe whiche shuld ben

the way unto my person, and whither it abydeth; yet wote they

there is a love in every wight, [whiche] weneth by that thing that

he coveyteth most, he shulde come to thilke love; and that

is parfit blisse of my servauntes; but than fulle blisse may not

be, and there lacke any thing of that blisse in any syde. Eke it

foloweth than, that he that must have ful blisse lacke no blisse in

love on no syde.'

'Therfore, lady,' quod I tho, 'thilke blisse I have desyred,

and †soghte toforn this my-selfe, by wayes of riches, of dignitè,

of power, and of renomè, wening me in tho †thinges had ben

thilke blisse; but ayenst the heer it turneth. Whan I supposed

beste thilke blisse have †getten, and come to the ful purpose

of your service, sodaynly was I hindred, and throwen so fer

abacke, that me thinketh an inpossible to come there I lefte.'

'I †wot wel,' quod she; 'and therfore hast thou fayled; for

thou wentest not by the hye way. A litel misgoing in the ginning

causeth mikil errour in the ende; wherfore of thilke blisse thou

fayledest, for having of richesse; ne non of the other thinges thou

nempnedest mowen nat make suche parfit blisse in love as I shal

shewe. Therfore they be nat worthy to thilke blisse; and yet

somwhat must ben cause and way to thilke blisse. Ergo, there is

som suche thing, and som way, but it is litel in usage and that

is nat openly y-knowe. But what felest in thyne hert of the

service, in whiche by me thou art entred? Wenest aught thy-selfe

yet be in the hye way to my blisse? I shal so shewe it to

thee, thou shalt not conne saye the contrary.'

'Good lady,' quod I, 'altho I suppose it in my herte, yet

wolde I here thyn wordes, how ye menen in this mater.'

Quod she, 'that I shal, with my good wil. Thilke blisse

desyred, som-del ye knowen, altho it be nat parfitly. For kyndly

entencion ledeth you therto, but in three maner livinges is al suche

wayes shewed. Every wight in this world, to have this blisse, oon

of thilke three wayes of lyves must procede; whiche, after opinions

of grete clerkes, are by names cleped bestiallich, resonablich, [and

manlich. Resonablich] is vertuous. Manlich is worldlich. Bestialliche

is lustes and delytable, nothing restrayned by bridel of reson.

Al that joyeth and yeveth gladnesse to the hert, and it be ayenst

reson, is lykened to bestial living, which thing foloweth lustes and

delytes; wherfore in suche thinge may nat that precious blisse,

that is maister of al vertues, abyde. Your †faders toforn you have

cleped such lusty livinges after the flessh "passions of desyre,"

which are innominable tofore god and man both. Than, after

determinacion of suche wyse, we accorden that suche passions of

desyre shul nat be nempned, but holden for absolute from al other

livinges and provinges; and so †leveth in t[w]o livinges, manlich

and resonable, to declare the maters begonne. But to make thee

fully have understanding in manlich livinges, whiche is holden

worldlich in these thinges, so that ignorance be mad no letter,

I wol (quod she) nempne these forsayd wayes †by names and

conclusions. First riches, dignitè, renomè, and power shul in

this worke be cleped bodily goodes; for in hem hath ben, a gret

throw, mannes trust of selinesse in love: as in riches, suffisance

to have maintayned that was begonne by worldly catel; in dignitè,

honour and reverence of hem that wern underput by maistry

therby to obeye. In renomè, glorie of peoples praising, after

lustes in their hert, without hede-taking to qualitè and maner of

doing; and in power, by trouth of lordships mayntenaunce, thing

to procede forth in doing. In al whiche thinges a longe tyme

mannes coveytise in commune hath ben greetly grounded, to come

to the blisse of my service; but trewly, they were begyled, and for

the principal muste nedes fayle, and in helping mowe nat availe.

See why. For holdest him not poore that is nedy?'

'Yes, pardè,' quod I.

'And him for dishonored, that moche folk deyne nat to

reverence?'

'That is soth,' quod I.

'And what him, that his mightes faylen and mowe nat helpen?'

'Certes,' quod I, 'me semeth, of al men he shulde be holden

a wrecche.'

'And wenest nat,' quod she, 'that he that is litel in renomè,

but rather is out of the praysinges of mo men than a fewe, be nat

in shame?'

'For soth,' quod I, 'it is shame and villany, to him that

coveyteth renomè, that more folk nat prayse in name than preise.'

'Soth,' quod she, 'thou sayst soth; but al these thinges are

folowed of suche maner doinge, and wenden in riches suffisaunce,

in power might, in dignitè worship, and in renomè glorie; wherfore

they discended in-to disceyvable wening, and in that service disceit

is folowed. And thus, in general, thou and al suche other that so

worchen, faylen of my blisse that ye long han desyred. Wherfore

truly, in lyfe of reson is the hye way to this blisse; as I thinke

more openly to declare herafter. Never-the-later yet, in a litel to

comforte thy herte, in shewing of what waye thou art entred

*selfe, and that thy Margarite may knowe thee set in the hye way,

I wol enforme thee in this wyse. Thou hast fayled of thy first

purpos, bicause thou wentest wronge and leftest the hye way on

thy right syde, as thus: thou lokedest on worldly living, and that

thing thee begyled; and lightly therfore, as a litel assay, thou

songedest; but whan I turned thy purpos, and shewed thee

a part of the hye waye, tho thou abode therin, and no deth ne

ferdnesse of non enemy might thee out of thilk way reve; but

ever oon in thyn herte, to come to the ilke blisse, whan thou

were arested and firste tyme enprisoned, thou were loth to

chaunge thy way, for in thy hert thou wendest to have ben there

thou shuldest. And for I had routhe to sene thee miscaried,

and wiste wel thyn ablenesse my service to forther and encrese,

I com my-selfe, without other mene, to visit thy person in comfort

of thy hert. And perdy, in my comming thou were greetly

glad[d]ed; after whiche tyme no disese, no care, no tene, might

move me out of thy hert. And yet am I glad and greetly enpited,

how continually thou haddest me in mynde, with good avysement

of thy conscience, whan thy king and his princes by huge wordes

and grete loked after variaunce in thy speche; and ever thou

were redy for my sake, in plesaunce of the Margarite-perle and

many mo other, thy body to oblige in-to Marces doing, if any

contraried thy sawes. Stedfast way maketh stedfast hert, with

good hope in the ende. Trewly, I wol that thou it wel knowe;

for I see thee so set, and not chaunginge herte haddest in my

service; and I made thou haddest grace of thy kinge, in

foryevenesse of mikel misdede. To the gracious king art thou mikel

holden, of whos grace and goodnesse somtyme hereafter I thinke

thee enforme, whan I shew the ground where-as moral vertue

groweth. Who brought thee to werke? Who brought this grace

aboute? Who made thy hert hardy? Trewly, it was I. For

haddest thou of me fayled, than of this purpos had[dest thou]

never taken [hede] in this wyse. And therfore I say, thou might

wel truste to come to thy blisse, sithen thy ginninge hath ben hard,

but ever graciously after thy hertes desyr hath proceded. Silver

fyned with many hetes men knowen for trew; and safely men

may trust to the alay in werkinge. This †disese hath proved what

way hence-forward thou thinkest to holde.'

'Now, in good fayth, lady,' quod I tho, 'I am now in; me

semeth, it is the hye way and the right.'

'Ye, forsothe,' quod she, 'and now I wol disprove thy first

wayes, by whiche many men wenen to gette thilke blisse. But

for-as-moche as every herte that hath caught ful love, is tyed with

queynt knittinges, thou shalt understande that love and thilke

foresayd blisse toforn declared in this[e] provinges, shal hote the

knot in the hert.'

'Wel,' quod I, 'this inpossession I wol wel understande.'

'Now also,' quod she, 'for the knotte in the herte muste ben

from one to an-other, and I knowe thy desyr, I wol thou understande

these maters to ben sayd of thy-selfe, in disproving of thy

first service, and in strengthinge of thilke that thou hast

undertake to thy Margaryte-perle.'

'A goddes halfe,' quod I, 'right wel I fele that al this case is

possible and trewe; and therfore I †admitte it altogither.'

'†Understand wel,' quod she, 'these termes, and loke no

contradiccion thou graunt.'

'If god wol,' quod I, 'of al these thinges wol I not fayle; and

if I graunt contradiccion, I shulde graunte an impossible; and

that were a foul inconvenience; for whiche thinges, lady, y-wis,

herafter I thinke me to kepe.'

CHAPTER V.

'Wel,' quod she, 'thou knowest that every thing is a cause,

wherthrough any thing hath being that is cleped "caused."

Than, if richesse †causeth knot in herte, thilke richesse †is cause

of thilke precious thinge being. But after the sentence of

Aristotle, every cause is more in dignitè than his thinge caused;

wherthrough it foloweth richesse to ben more in dignitè than

thilke knot. But richesses arn kyndely naughty, badde, and

nedy; and thilke knotte is thing kyndely good, most praysed

and desyred. Ergo, thing naughty, badde, and nedy in kyndely

understandinge is more worthy than thing kyndely good, most

desyred and praysed! The consequence is fals; nedes, the

antecedent mot ben of the same condicion. But that richesses

ben bad, naughty, and nedy, that wol I prove; wherfore they

mowe cause no suche thing that is so glorious and good. The

more richesse thou hast, the more nede hast thou of helpe hem

to kepe. Ergo, thou nedest in richesse, whiche nede thou

shuldest not have, if thou hem wantest. Than muste richesse

ben nedy, that in their having maken thee nedy to helpes, in

suretee thy richesse to kepen; wherthrough foloweth, richesse to

ben nedy. Everything causinge yvels is badde and naughty; but

richesse in one causen misese, in another they mowen not evenly

strecchen al about. Wherof cometh plee, debat, thefte, begylinges,

but richesse to winne; whiche thinges ben badde, and by richesse

arn caused. Ergo, thilke richesse[s] ben badde; whiche badnesse

and nede ben knit in-to richesse by a maner of kyndely propertee;

and every cause and caused accorden; so that it foloweth, thilke

richesse[s] to have the same accordaunce with badnesse and nede,

that their cause asketh. Also, every thing hath his being by his

cause; than, if the cause be distroyed, the being of caused is

vanisshed. And, so, if richesse[s] causen love, and richesse[s]

weren distroyed, the love shulde vanisshe; but thilke knotte, and

it be trewe, may not vanisshe, for no going of richesse. Ergo,

richesse is no cause of the knot. And many men, as I sayd,

setten the cause of the knotte in richesse; thilke knitten the

richesse, and nothing the yvel; thilke persons, what-ever they

ben, wenen that riches is most worthy to be had; and that make

they the cause; and so wene they thilke riches be better than the

person. Commenly, suche asken rather after the quantitè than

after the qualitè; and suche wenen, as wel by hem-selfe as by

other, that conjunccion of his lyfe and of his soule is no more

precious, but in as mikel as he hath of richesse. Alas! how may

he holden suche thinges precious or noble, that neither han lyf ne

soule, ne ordinaunce of werchinge limmes! Suche richesse[s]

ben more worthy whan they ben in †gadering; in departing,

ginneth his love of other mennes praysing. And avarice †gadering

maketh be hated, and nedy to many out-helpes; and whan leveth

the possession of such goodes, and they ginne vanissh, than

entreth sorowe and tene in their hertes. O! badde and strayte

ben thilke, that at their departinge maketh men teneful and sory,

and in the †gadering of hem make men nedy! Moche folk at

ones mowen not togider moche therof have. A good gest gladdeth

his hoste and al his meyny; but he is a badde gest that maketh

his hoste nedy and to be aferd of his gestes going.'

'Certes,' quod I, 'me wondreth therfore that the comune

opinion is thus: "He is worth no more than that he hath in

catel."'

'O!' quod she, 'loke thou be not of that opinion; for if gold or

money, or other maner of riches shynen in thy sight, whos is that?

Nat thyn. And tho[ugh] they have a litel beautee, they be nothing

in comparison of our kynde; and therfore, ye shulde nat sette

your worthinesse in thing lower than your-selfe. For the riches,

the fairnesse, the worthinesse of thilke goodes, if ther be any

suche preciousnesse in hem, are nat thyne; thou madest hem

so never; from other they come to thee, and to other they shul

from thee. Wherfore enbracest thou other wightes good, as

tho[ugh] they were thyn? Kynde hath drawe hem by hem-selfe.

It is sothe, the goodes of the erth ben ordayned in your fode

and norisshinge; but if thou wolt holde thee apayd with that

suffyseth to thy kynde, thou shalt nat be in daunger of no suche

riches; to kynde suffyseth litel thing, who that taketh hede.

And if thou wolt algates with superfluitè of riches be a-throted,

thou shalt hastelich be anoyed, or els yvel at ese. And fairnesse

of feldes ne of habitacions, ne multitude of meynè, may nat be

rekened as riches that are thyn owne. For if they be badde, it is

greet sclaunder and villany to the occupyer; and if they be good

or faire, the mater of the workman that hem made is to prayse.

How shulde other-wyse bountee be compted for thyne? Thilke

goodnesse and fairnesse be proper to tho thinges hem-selfe; than,

if they be nat thyne, sorow nat whan they wende, ne glad thee

nat in pompe and in pride whan thou hem hast. For their

bountee and their beautees cometh out of their owne kynde, and

nat of thyne owne person. As faire ben they in their not having

as whan thou hast hem. They be nat faire for thou hast hem;

but thou hast geten hem for the fairnesse of them-selfe. And

there the vaylance of men is demed in richesse outforth, wenen

me[n] to have no proper good in them-selfe, but seche it in

straunge thinges. Trewly, the condicion of good wening is to

thee mistourned, to wene, your noblesse be not in your-selfe, but

in the goodes and beautee of other thinges. Pardy, the beestes

that han but feling soules, have suffisaunce in their owne selfe;

and ye, that ben lyke to god, seken encrese of suffisaunce from so

excellent a kynde of so lowe thinges; ye do greet wrong to him

that you made lordes over al erthly thinges; and ye putte your

worthinesse under the nombre of the fete of lower thinges and

foule. Whan ye juge thilke riches to be your worthinesse, than

putte ye your-selfe, by estimacion, under thilke foule thinges;

and than leve ye the knowing of your-selfe; so be ye viler than

any dombe beest; that cometh of shrewde vice. Right so thilke

persons that loven non yvel for dereworthinesse of the persone,

but for straunge goodes, and saith, the adornement in the knot

lyth in such thing; his errour is perilous and shrewd, and he

wryeth moche venim with moche welth; and that knot may

nat be good whan he hath it getten.

Certes, thus hath riches with flickering sight anoyed many;

and often, whan there is a throw-out shrewe, he coyneth al the

gold, al the precious stones that mowen be founden, to have in

his bandon; he weneth no wight be worthy to have suche thinges

but he alone. How many hast thou knowe, now in late tyme,

that in their richesse supposed suffisance have folowed, and now

it is al fayled!'

'Ye, lady,' quod I, 'that is for mis medling; and otherwyse

governed [they] thilke richesse than they shulde.'

'Ye,' quod she tho, 'had not the flood greetly areysed, and

throwe to-hemward both gravel and sand, he had mad no medlinge.

And right as see yeveth flood, so draweth see ebbe, and

pulleth ayen under wawe al the firste out-throwe, but-if good pyles

of noble governaunce in love, in wel-meninge maner, ben sadly

grounded; †the whiche holde thilke gravel as for a tyme, that

ayen lightly mowe not it turne; and if the pyles ben trewe, the

gravel and sand wol abyde. And certes, ful warning in love shalt

thou never thorow hem get ne cover, that lightly with an ebbe, er

thou be ware, it [ne] wol ayen meve. In richesse many men

have had tenes and diseses, whiche they shulde not have had, if

therof they had fayled. Thorow whiche, now declared, partly it is

shewed, that for richesse shulde the knotte in herte neither ben

caused in one ne in other; trewly, knotte may ben knit, and

I trowe more stedfast, in love, though richesse fayled; and els,

in richesse is the knotte, and not in herte. And than suche

a knotte is fals; whan the see ebbeth and withdraweth the

gravel, that such richesse voydeth, thilke knotte wol unknitte.

Wherfore no trust, no way, no cause, no parfit being is in

richesse, of no suche knotte. Therfore another way muste we

have.

CHAPTER VI.

Honour in dignitè is wened to yeven a ful knot.'

'Ye, certes,' quod I, 'and of that opinion ben many;

for they sayn, dignitè, with honour and reverence, causen hertes

to encheynen, and so abled to be knit togither, for the excellence

in soverayntè of such degrees.'

'Now,' quod she, 'if dignitè, honour, and reverence causen

thilke knotte in herte, this knot is good and profitable. For

every cause of a cause is cause of thing caused. Than thus:

good thinges and profitable ben by dignitè, honour, and reverence

caused. Ergo, they accorden; and dignites ben good with

reverences and honour. But contraries mowen not accorden.

Wherfore, by reson, there shulde no dignitee, no reverence, non

honour acorde with shrewes. But that is fals; they have ben

cause to shrewes in many shreudnes; for with hem they accorden.

Ergo, from beginning to argue ayenward til it come to the laste

conclusion, they are not cause of the knot. Lo, al day at eye arn

shrewes not in reverence, in honour, and in dignitè? Yes, forsothe,

rather than the good. Than foloweth it that shrewes

rather than good shul ben cause of this knot. But of this [the]

contrarie of al lovers is bileved, and for a sothe openly determined

to holde.'

'Now,' quod I, 'fayn wolde I here, how suche dignitees acorden

with shrewes.'

'O,' quod she, 'that wol I shewe in manifolde wyse. Ye wene

(quod she) that dignites of office here in your citè is as the

sonne; it shyneth bright withouten any cloude; [of] whiche thing,

whan they comen in the handes of malicious tirauntes, there

cometh moche harm, and more grevaunce therof than of the

wilde fyre, though it brende al a strete. Certes, in dignitè of

office, the werkes of the occupyer shewen the malice and the

badnesse in the person; with shrewes they maken manyfolde

harmes, and moche people shamen. How often han rancours,

for malice of the governour, shulde ben mainteyned? Hath not

than suche dignitees caused debat, rumours, and yvels? Yes,

god wot, by suche thinges have ben trusted to make mens understanding

enclyne to many queynte thinges. Thou wottest wel

what I mene.'

'Ye,' quod I, 'therfore, as dignitè suche thing in tene y-wrought,

so ayenward, the substaunce in dignitè chaunged, relyed to bring

ayen good plyte in doing.'

'Do way, do way,' quod she; 'if it so betyde, but that is

selde, that suche dignitè is betake in a good mannes governaunce,

what thing is to recken in the dignitees goodnesse? Pardè, the

bountee and goodnesse is hers that usen it in good governaunce;

and therfore cometh it that honour and reverence shulde ben

don to dignitè bycause of encresinge vertue in the occupyer,

and not to the ruler bycause of soverayntee in dignitè. Sithen

dignitè may no vertue cause, who is worthy worship for suche

goodnesse? Not dignitè, but person, that maketh goodnesse in

dignitè to shyne.'

'This is wonder thing,' quod I; 'for me thinketh, as the person

in dignitè is worthy honour for goodnesse, so, tho[ugh] a person

for badnesse ma[u]gree hath deserved, yet the dignitè leneth to

be commended.'

'Let be,' quod she, 'thou errest right foule; dignitè with

badnesse is helper to performe the felonous doing. Pardy, were

it kyndly good, or any propertè of kyndly vertue [that men]

hadden in hem-selfe, shrewes shulde hem never have; with hem

shulde they never accorde. Water and fyr, that ben contrarious,

mowen nat togider ben assembled; kynde wol nat suffre suche

contraries to joyne. And sithen at eye, by experience in doing,

we seen that shrewes have hem more often than good men, siker

mayst thou be, that kyndly good in suche thing is nat appropred.

Pardy, were they kyndly good, as wel oon as other shulden

evenlich in vertue of governaunce ben worthe; but oon fayleth in

goodnesse, another doth the contrary; and so it sheweth, kyndly

goodnesse in dignitè nat be grounded. And this same reson

(quod she) may be mad, in general, on al the bodily goodes;

for they comen ofte to throw-out shrewes. After this, he is

strong that hath might to have grete burthens, and he is light

and swifte, that hath soveraintè in ronning to passe other; right

so he is a shrewe, on whom shreude thinges and badde han most

werchinge. And right as philosophy maketh philosophers, and

my service maketh lovers, right so, if dignites weren good or

vertuous, they shulde maken shrewes good, and turne her malice,

and make hem be vertuous. But that they do nat, as it is

proved, but causen rancour and debat. Ergo, they be nat good,

but utterly badde. Had Nero never ben Emperour, shulde

never his dame have be slayn, to maken open the privitè of his

engendrure. Herodes, for his dignitè, slew many children. The

dignitè of king John wolde have distroyed al England. Therfore

mokel wysdom and goodnesse both, nedeth in a person, the

malice in dignitè slyly to brydel, and with a good bitte of arest

to withdrawe, in case it wolde praunce otherwyse than it shulde.

Trewly, ye yeve to dignites wrongful names in your cleping.

They shulde hete, nat dignitè, but moustre of badnesse and

mayntenour of shrewes. Pardy, shyne the sonne never so bright,

and it bringe forth no hete, ne sesonably the herbes out-bringe of

the erthe, but suffre frostes and cold, and the erthe barayne to

ligge by tyme of his compas in circute about, ye wolde wonder,

and dispreyse that sonne! If the mone be at ful, and sheweth

no light, but derke and dimme to your sight appereth, and make

distruccion of the waters, wol ye nat suppose it be under cloude

or in clips, and that som prevy thing, unknowen to your wittes,

is cause of suche contrarious doinge? Than, if clerkes, that han

ful insight and knowing of suche impedimentes, enforme you of

the sothe, very idiottes ye ben, but-if ye yeven credence to thilk

clerkes wordes. And yet it doth me tene, to sene many wrecches

rejoycen in such maner planettes. Trewly, litel con[ne] they on

philosophy, or els on my lore, that any desyr haven suche

lightinge planettes in that wyse any more to shewe.'

'Good lady,' quod I, 'tel me how ye mene in these thinges.'

'Lo,' quod she, 'the dignites of your citè, sonne and mone,

nothing in kynde shew their shyning as they shulde. For the

sonne made no brenning hete in love, but freesed envye in

mennes hertes, for feblenesse of shyning hete; and the moone

was about, under an olde cloude, the livinges by waters to

distroye.'

'Lady,' quod I, 'it is supposed they had shyned as they

shulde.'

'Ye,' quod she, 'but now it is proved at the ful, their beautè in

kyndly shyning fayled; wherfore dignitè of him-selven hath no

beautee in fayrnesse, ne dryveth nat awaye vices, but encreseth;

and so be they no cause of the knotte. Now see, in good trouth;

holde ye nat such sonnes worthy of no reverence, and dignites

worthy of no worship, that maketh men to do the more harmes?'

'I not,' quod I.

'No?' quod she; 'and thou see a wyse good man, for his

goodnesse and wysnesse wolt thou nat do him worship? Therof

he is worthy.'

'That is good skil,' quod I; 'it is dewe to suche, both reverence

and worship to have.'

'Than,' quod she, 'a shrewe, for his shreudnesse, altho he be

put forth toforn other for ferde, yet is he worthy, for shrewdnesse,

to be unworshipped; of reverence no part is he worthy to have,

[that] to contrarious doing belongeth: and that is good skil.

For, right as he besmyteth the dignites, thilke same thing ayenward

him smyteth, or els shulde smyte. And over this thou wost

wel (quod she) that fyr in every place heteth where it be, and

water maketh wete. Why? For kyndely werking is so y-put in

hem, to do suche thinges; for every kyndely in werking sheweth

his kynde. But though a wight had ben mayre of your city

many winter togider, and come in a straunge place there he were

not knowen, he shulde for his dignitè have no reverence. Than

neither worshippe ne reverence is kyndely propre in no dignitè,

sithen they shulden don their kynde in suche doinge, if any were.

And if reverence ne worshippe kyndely be not set in dignitees,

and they more therein ben shewed than goodnesse, for that in

dignitè is shewed, but it proveth that goodnesse kyndely in hem

is not grounded. I-wis, neither worshippe, ne reverence, ne

goodnesse in dignitè don non office of kynde; for they have non

suche propertee in nature of doinge but by false opinion of the

people. Lo! how somtyme thilke that in your city wern in

dignitè noble, if thou liste hem nempne, they ben now overturned

bothe in worship, in name, and in reverence; wherfore

such dignites have no kyndly werching of worshippe and of

reverence. He that hath no worthinesse on it-selfe, now it ryseth

and now it vanissheth, after the variaunt opinion in false hertes

of unstable people. Wherfore, if thou desyre the knotte of this

jewel, or els if thou woldest suppose she shulde sette the knotte

on thee for suche maner dignitè, than thou wenest beautee or

goodnesse of thilke somwhat encreseth the goodnesse or vertue in

the body. But dignite[es] of hemself ben not good, ne yeven

reverence ne worshippe by their owne kynde. How shulde they

than yeve to any other a thing, that by no waye mowe they have

hem-selfe? It is sene in dignitè of the emperour and of many

mo other, that they mowe not of hem-selve kepe their worshippe

ne their reverence; that, in a litel whyle, it is now up and now

downe, by unstedfaste hertes of the people. What bountee mowe

they yeve that, with cloude, lightly leveth his shyninge? Certes,

to the occupyer is mokel appeyred, sithen suche doinge doth

villanye to him that may it not mayntayne. Wherfore thilke way

to the knotte is croked; and if any desyre to come to the knot,

he must leve this way on his lefte syde, or els shal he never come

there.