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As man that was affrayed in his herte.
For naturelly a beest desyreth flee
Fro his contrarie, if he may it see,
Though he never erst1 had seyn it with his
yë.
This Chauntecleer, whan he gan him espye,
He wolde han fled, but that the fox anon Seyde, "Gentil sire, allas! wher wol ye gon?
Be ye affrayed of me that am your freend?
Now certes, I were worse than a feend, 466
If I to yow wolde harm or vileinye.
I am nat come your counseils for tespye;6
But trewely, the cause of my cominge
Was only for to herkne how that ye singe.
For trewely ye have as mery a stevene,' 471
As eny aungel hath, that is in hevene;
Therwith ye han in musik more felinge
Than hadde Boece, or any that can singe.
My lord your fader (god his soule blesse!)
And eek your moder, of hir gentilesse, 476
Han in myn hous y-been, to my gret ese,8
And certes, sire, ful fayn wolde I yow plese.
But for men speke of singing, I wol saye,
So mote I brouke9 wel myn eyen1o tweye,480
Save yow, I herde never man so singe,
As dide your fader in the morweninge;
Certes, it was of herte, al that he song.
And for to make his voys the more strong,
He wolde so peyne him," that with both
his yën10
And stonden on his tiptoon13 therwithal,
And strecche forth his nekke long and smal.
And eek he was of swich discrecioun,
That ther nas no man in no regioun
That him in song or wisdom mighte passe.
I have weel rad in daun Burnel the Asse,
Among his vers, how that ther was a cok,
For that a preestes sone yaf him a knok
Upon his leg, whyl he was yong and nyce,
He made him for to lese14 his benefyce. 496
But certeyn, ther nis no comparisoun
Bitwix the wisdom and discrecioun
Of youre fader, and of his subtiltee.
Now singeth, sire, for seinte15 charitee, 500
Let see, conne ye your fader countre-
fete?"16
This Chauntecleer his winges gan to bete," As man that coude his tresoun nat espye, So was he ravisshed with his flaterye.
Allas! ye lordes, many a fals flatour18505 Is in your courtes, and many a losengeour, 19
That plesen yow wel more, by my feith, Than he that soothfastnesse20 unto yow seith.
Redeth Ecclesiaste of flaterye;
Beth21 war,22 ye lordes, of hir trecherye.510 This Chauntecleer stood hye up-on his
Allas, his wyf ne roghte29 nat of dremes! 520
And on a Friday fil al this meschaunce.
O Venus, that art goddesse of plesaunce,3
Sin that thy servant was this Chauntecleer,
And in thy service dide al his poweer,
More for delyt, than world to multiplye,
Why woldestow31 suffre him on thy day to
dye?
526
13 tip-toes. 18 flatterer. 22 wary. 26 bore. 29 cared.
As maden alle the hennes in the clos, 10
Whan they had seyn of Chauntecleer the
sighte.
But sovereynly dame Pertelote shrighte,
Ful louder than dide Hasdrubales wyf,
Whan that hir housbond hadde lost his lyf,
And that the Romayns hadde brend1i
She was so ful of torment and of rage,
That wilfully into the fyr she sterte, 12
And brende hir-selven with a stedfast
herte.
The gees for fere flowen over the trees;
Out of the hyve cam the swarm of bees;
So hidous was the noyse, a! benedicite!
Certes, he lakke Straw, and his meynee,'
Ne maden20 never shoutes half so shrille,
Whan that they wolden any Fleming kille,
As thilke day was maad upon the fox. 577
Of bras thay broghten bemes,21 and of
box, 22
Of horn, of boon, in whiche they blewe and
pouped, 23
And therwithal they shryked and they
houped;24
580
It semed as that heven sholde falle.
Now, gode men, I pray yow herkneth
Lo, how fortune turneth sodeinly
The hope and pryde eek of hir enemy!
This cok, that lay upon the foxes bak, 585
In al his drede, un-to the fox he spak,
And seyde, "sire, if that I were as ye,
Yet sholde I seyn (as wis25 god helpe me),
'Turneth agayn, ye proude cherles alle!
A verray pestilence up-on yow falle!
O woful hennes, right so cryden ye,
As, whan that Nero brende the citee
Of Rome, cryden senatoures wyves,
For that hir housbondes losten alle hir Now am I come un-to this wodes syde,
lyves;
Withouten gilt this Nero hath hem slayn.
Now wol I torne to my tale agayn.
This sely 13 widwe, and eek hir doghtres
two,
Herden thise hennes crye and maken wo,
And out at dores sterten thay anoon,
And syen14 the fox toward the grove goon,
And bar upon his bak the cok away;
And cryden, "Out! harrow! and weylaway!
Ha, ha, the fox!" and after him they ran,
And eek with staves many another man;
Ran Colle our dogge, and Talbot, and
Gerland,
And Malkin, with a distaf in hir hand;
Maugree your heed,26 the cok shal heer
abyde;
I wol him ete in feith, and that anon.'
The fox answerde, "in feith, it shal be
don,"
And as he spak that word, al sodeinly 595
This cok brak27 from his mouth deliverly, 28
And heighe29 up-on a tree he fleigh anon.
And whan the fox saugh that he was
26 in spite of your head; in spite of all you can do.
27 broke.
Lo, swich it is for to be recchelees, And necligent, and truste on flaterye. But ye that holden this tale a folye," As of a fox, or of a cok and hen, Taketh the moralitee, good men. For seint Paul seith, that al that writen is, Toll our doctryne12 it is y-write, y-wis. Taketh the fruyt, and lat the chaf be stille. Now, gode god, if that it be thy wille, As seith my lord, so make us alle good men; And bringe us to his heighe blisse. Amen.
O glotonye, ful of cursednesse,
O cause first of our confusioun,
O original of our dampnacioun,
Til Crist had boght us with his blood
agayn!
Lo, how dere, shortly for to sayn,
Aboght28 was thilke cursed vileinye;
Corrupt was al this world for glotonye!
Adam our fader, and his wyf also, Fro Paradys to labour and to wo Were driven for that vyce, it is no drede;29 For whyl that Adam fasted, as I rede, He was in Paradys; and whan that he Eet of the fruyt defended30 on the tree, Anon he was out-cast to wo and peyne. O glotonye, on thee wel oghte us pleyne!31 O, wiste a man how many maladyes 185 Folwen of excesse and of glotonyes, He wolde been the more mesurable32 Of his diete, sittinge at his table. Allas! the shorte throte, the tendre mouth, Maketh that, Est and West, and North
In erthe, in eir, in water men to-swinke33 To gete a glotoun deyntee mete and drinke!
14 gambling.
17 tear in pieces.
Bledinge ay at his nose in dronkenesse;
A capitayn shoulde live in sobernesse.
And over al this, avyseth yow18 right wel 255
What was comaunded un-to Lamuel-
Nat Samuel, but Lamuel, seye I-
Redeth the Bible, and finde it expresly
Of wyn-yeving19 to hem that han Iustyse;
Namore of this, for it may wel suffyse. 260
And now that I have spoke of glotonye,
Now wol I yow defenden20 hasardrye.21
Hasard is verray moder of lesinges, 22
And of deceite, and cursed forsweringes,23
Blaspheme of Crist, manslaughtre, and
wast24 also
Of catel25 and of tyme; and forthermo,
It is repreve26 and contrarie of honour
For to ben holde27 a commune hasardour.
And ever the hyer he is of estaat,
The more is he holden desolaat.28
If that a prince useth hasardrye,
In alle governaunce and policye
He is, as by commune opinoun,
Yholde the lasse in reputacioun.
16 the true. 20 forbid.
24 waste. 29 shunned.
Sente him a paire of dees of gold in scorn,
For he hadde used hasard ther-biforn; 296
For which he heeld his glorie or his renoun
At no value or reputacioun.
Lordes may fynden other maner pley
Honeste ynough to dryve the day awey. 300
Now wol I speke of othes false and grete
A word or two, as olde bokes trete.
Gret swering is a thing abhominable,
And fals swering is yet more reprevable.
The heighe god forbad swering at al,
Witnesse on Mathew; but in special
Of swering seith the holy Ieremye,
"Thou shalt seye sooth thyn othes, and
nat lye,
And swere in dome, and eek in rightwisnesse;"
But ydel swering is a cursednesse.
Bihold and see, that in the firste table
Of heighe goddes hestes honurable,
Forswering, ire, falsnesse, homicyde.
Now, for the love of Crist that for us dyde,
Leveth your othes, bothe grete and smale;
But, sirs, now wol I telle forth my tale. 332
Thise ryotoures three, of whiche I telle,
Longe erst er pryme16 rong of any belle,
Were set hem in a taverne for to drinke; 335
And as they satte, they herde a belle clinke
Biforn a cors, was caried to his grave;
That oon of hem gan callen to his knave,
"Go bet,"17 quod he, "and axe redily,
What cors is this that passeth heer forby;
And look that thou reporte his name
wel."
"Sir," quod this boy, "it nedeth neveradel, 18
It was me told, er ye cam heer, two houres; He was, pardee, an old felawe19 of youres; And sodeynly he was yslayn to-night, 345 For-dronke,2 20 as he sat on his bench upright;
Ther cam a privee theef, men clepeth21
Deeth,
That in this contree al the peple sleeth,
And with his spere he smoot his herte
atwo,
And wente his wey with-outen wordes mo.
He hath a thousand slayn this pestilence:
How that the seconde heste of him is And, maister, er ye come in his presence,
Me thinketh that it were necessarie For to be war of swich an adversarie: Beth redy for to mete him evermore. Thus taughte me my dame, I sey namore. "By seinte Marie," seyde this taverner, "The child seith sooth,22 for he hath slayn this yeer,
12 depart. 13 five. 15 cursed. 16 nine o'clock A. M. 17 quickly. 18 there is no need of it. 19 companion. 20 dead drunk. 21 name. 22 truth.
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