That charged was with fruit, and up he went; 10085
For veraily he knew all hire entent,
And every figne that the coude make,
Wel bet than January her owen make;
For in a lettre fhe had told him all
Of this matere, how that he werken fhall.
And thus I let him fitting in the pery,
And January and May roming ful mery.
Bright was the day, and blew the firmament;
Phebus of gold his ftremes doun hath fent
To gladen every flour with his warmnesse;
He was that time in Geminis I geffe,
But litel fro his declination
Of Cancer, Joves exaltation.
And fo befell in that bright morwe tide
That in the gardin, on the ferther fide,
Pluto that is the King of Faerie,
And many a ladie in his compagnie
Folwing his wif, the Quene Proferpina,
Which that he ravisfhed out of Ethna,
While that the gadred floures in the mede,
(In Claudian ye may the story rede,
How that hire in his grifely carte he fette)
This King of Faerie adoun him sette
V. 10104. Which that he ravished out of Ethna] So mf. A. In fome other mff. Ethna, by a manifeft errour of the copist, has been changed into Proferpina. The paffage being thus made nonfenfe, other transcribers left out the line, and substituted this in its ftead;
Eche after other, right as ony line.
Upon a benche of turves freshe and
And right anon thus faid he to his quere:
My wif, quod he, ther may no wight fay nay,
The experience fo preveth it every day,
The trefon which that woman doth to man:
Ten hundred thousand stories tell I can
Notable of your untrouth and brotelneffe.
O Salomon! richest of all richeffe,
Fulfilled of fapience and worldly glorie,
Ful worthy ben thy wordes to memorie
To every wight that wit and refon can.
Thus praiseth he the bountee yet of man;
Among a thousand men yet fond I on,
But of all women fond I never non.
Thus faith this king, that knewe your wikkedneffe:
And Jefus, filius Sirach, as I geffe,
He speketh of you but felden reverence.
A wilde fire, a corrupt peftilence,
So fall upon your bodies yet to-night.
Ne fee ye not this honourable knight?
Because, alas! that he is blind and old
His owen man fhal make him cokewold:.
Lo wher he fit, the lechour, in the tree.
Now wol I graunten of my majestee
Unto this olde blinde worthy knight
That he fhal have again his eyen fight
V. 10121. Among a thousand] Ecclefiaftes vii. 28. This argu❤ ment is treated in much the fame manner in Melibeus.
Whan that his wif wol don him vilanie,
Than fhal he knowen all hire harlotrie,
Both in reprefe of hire and other mo.
Ye, Sire, quod Proferpine, and wol ye fo?
Now by my modre Ceres foule I fwere
That I fhal yeve hire fuffifant answere,
And alle women after for hire fake,
That though they ben in any gilt ytake
With face bold they shul hemselve excufe,
And bere hem doun that wolden hem accufe:
For lacke of anfwere non of us fhul dien.
Al had ye feen a thing with both your eyen,
Yet fhul we fo vifage it hardely,
And wepe, and fwere, and chiden, fubtilly,
That ye fhul ben as lewed as ben gees.
What rekketh me of your auctoritees?
I wote wel that this Jewe, this Salomon,
Fond of us women fooles many on:
But though that he ne fond no good woman,
Ther hath yfonden many an other man
Women ful good, and trewe and vertuous,
Witneffe on hem that dwelte in Criftes hous;
With martyrdom they preved hir conftance.
The Romain geftes maken remembrance
V. 10158. The Romain geftes] He means the collection of ftories called Gefta Romanorum, of which I once thought to fay a few words here, in order to recommend it to a little more attention than it has hitherto met with from those who have written upon the poetical inventions of the middle ages; but as many of the ftories in that collection are taken from a treaSife of Petrus Alphonfus, De Clericali Disciplină, (an older and
But, Sire, ne be not wroth al be it fa, d
Though that he faid he fond no good woman;220 1
I pray you take the fentence of the mane olde
He ment thus, that in foverain bounteė,
N'is non but God, no, nouther he ne fhe.
Ey, for the veray God that n'is but on
What maken ye so moche of Salomon ?...
What though he made a temple, Goddes hous?
What though he were riche and glorious?..
So made he eke a temple of false goddes;
How might he don a thing that more forbode is?
Parde as faire as ye his name emplaftre
He was a lechour and an idolatre,
And in his elde he veray God forfake;
And if that God ne hadde (as faith the boke)
Spared him for his fathers fake, he folde: 10175
Han loft his regne rather than he wolde.
I fete nat of all the vilanie
That he of women wrote a boterflie.
I am a woman; nedes mofte Ipeke,
Or fwell unto that time min berte breke:
For fin he said that we ben janglereffes,
As ever mote I brouken hole my
I fhal nat sparen for no curtefie
To speke him harm that fayth us vilanie.
ftill more forgotten work) I thall referve what I have to offer upon this fubject till I come to The Tale of Melibeus, where Piers Alphonfo is quoted.
Dame, quod this Pluto, be no lenger wroth, 10185 I yeve it up: but fin I fwore min oth
That I wold graunten him his fight again,
My word shal stand, that warne I you certain :
I am a king, it fit me not to lie.
And I, quod fhe, am Quene of Faerie.
Hire anfwere the fhal han l'undertake;
Let us no more wordes of it make.
Forfoth, quod he, I wok you not contrary.
Now let us turn again to January,
That in the gardin with his faire May
Singeth wel merier than the popingay;
You love I beft, and fhal, and other non.
So long about the alleyes is he gon,
Til he was comen again to thilke pery
Wher as this Damian fitteth ful mery
On high, among the freshe leves grene.
This freshe May, that is fo bright and fhene,
Yan for to fike, and said, Alas, my fide!
Now, Sire, quod fhe, for ought that may
I mofte have of the peres that I fee
Or I mofte die, fo fore longeth me.
To eten of the fmale peres grene;;
Help for hire love that is of heven quene.
I tell you wel a woman in my plit
May have to fruit fo gret an appetit
That she may dien but fhe of it have.
Alas! quod he, that I n'adde here a knave
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