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137

THE MAN OF LAWES TALE.

O SCATHFUL harm, condition of poverte,
With thirst, with cold, with hunger so con-
founded,

To asken helpe thee shameth in thin herte,
If thou non ask, so sore art thou ywounded,
That veray nede unwrappeth al thy wound hid.
Maugre thin hed thou must for indigence
Or stele, or begge, or borwe thy dispence.
Thou blamest Crist, and sayst ful bitterly,
He misdeparteth richesse temporal;
Thy neighbour thou witest sinfully,
And sayst, thou hast a litel, and he hath all:
Parfay (sayst thou) somtime he reken shall,
Whan that his tayl shal brennen in the glede,
For he nought helpeth needful in hir nede.

Herken what is the sentence of the wise,
Bet is to dien than have indigence.
Thy selve neighebour wol thee despise,
If thou be poure, farewel thy reverence.
Yet of the wise man take this sentence,
Alle the dayes of poure men ben wicke,
Beware therfore or thou come to that pricke.
If thou be poure, thy brother hateth thee,
And all thy frendes fleen fro thee, alas!
O riche marchants, ful of wele ben ye,
O noble, o prudent folk, as in this cas,
Your bagges ben not filled with ambes as,
But with sis cink, that renneth for your chance;
At Cristenmasse mery may ye dance.

Ye seken lond and see for your winninges, As wise folk ye knowen all th❜estat

Of regnes, ye ben fathers of tidinges,
And tales, both of pees and of debat:
I were right now of tales desolat,
N'ere that a marchant, gon in many a yere,
Me taught a tale, which that ye shull here.

IN SURRIE whilom dwelt a compagnie
Of chapmen rich, and therto sad and trewe,
That wide where senten hir spicerie,
Clothes of gold, and satins riche of hewe.
Hir chaffare was so thriftly and so newe,
That every wight hath deintee to chaffare
With hem, and eke to sellen hem hir ware.

Now fell it, that the maisters of that sort Han shapen hem to Rome for to wende, Were it for chapmanhood or for disport, Non other message wold they thider sende, But comen hemself to Rome, this is the ende: And in swiche place as thought hem avantage For hir entente, they taken hir herbergage.

Sojourned han these marchants in that toun A certain time, as fell to hir plesance: And so befell, that the excellent renoun Of the emperoures doughter dame Custance Reported was, with every circumstance, Unto these Surrien marchants, in swiche wise Fro day to day, as I shal you devise,

This was the commun vois of every man: Our emperour of Rome, God him se, A doughter hath, that sin the world began, To reken as wel hire goodnesse as beaute,

N'as never swiche another as is she:
I pray to God in honour hire sustene,
And wold she were of all Europe the quene.

In hire is high beaute withouten pride,
Youthe, withouten grenehed or folie:
To all hire werkes vertue is hire guide;
Humblesse hath slaien in hire tyrannie:
She is mirrour of alle curtesie,

Hire herte is veray chambre of holinesse,
Hire hond ministre of fredom for almesse.

And al this vois was soth, as God is trewe, But now to purpos let us turne agein. These marchants han don fraught hir shippes newe, And whan they han this blisful maiden sein, Home to Surrie ben they went ful fayn, And don hir nedes, as they han don yore, And liven in wele, I can say you no more.

Now fell it, that these marchants stood in grace Of him that was the Soudan of Surrie: For whan they came from any strange place He wold of his benigne curtesie

Make hem good chere, and besily espie

Tidings of sundry regnes, for to lere

The wonders that they mighte seen or here.

Amonges other thinges specially

These marchants han him told of dame Custance
So gret noblesse, in ernest seriously,

That this Soudan hath caught so gret plesance
To han hire figure in his remembrance,
That all his lust, and all his besy cure
Was for to love hire, while his lif may dure.

Paraventure in thilke large book,

Which that men clepe the heven, ywriten was

With sterres, whan that he his birthe took,
That he for love shuld han his deth, alas!
For in the sterres, clerer than is glas,
Is writen, God wot, who so coud it rede,
The deth of every man withouten drede.

In sterres many a winter therbeforn
Was writ the deth of Hector, Achilles,
Of Pompey, Julius, or they were born;
The strif of Thebes; and of Hercules,
Of Sampson, Turnus, and of Socrates
The deth; but mennes wittes ben so dull,
That no wight can wel rede it at the full.

This Soudan for his prive councel sent,
And shortly of this matere for to pace,
He hath to hem declared his entent,
And sayd hem certain, but he might have grace
To han Custance, within a litel space,
He n'as but ded, and charged hem in hie
To shapen for his lif som remedie.

Diverse men, diverse thinges saiden;
They argumentes casten up and doun;
Many a subtil reson forth they laiden;
They speken of magike, and abusion;
But finally, as in conclusion,

They cannot seen in that non avantage
Ne in non other way, save mariage.

Than saw they therin swiche difficultee
By way of reson, for to speke all plain,
Because ther was swiche diversitee
Betwene hir bothe lawes, that they sayn,
They trowen that no cristen prince wold fayn
Wedden his child under our lawe swete,

That us was yeven by Mahound our prophete.

And he answered: Rather than I lese
Custance, I wol be cristened douteles:
I mote ben hires, I may non other chese,
I pray you hold your arguments in pees,
Saveth my lif, and beth not reccheles
To geten hire that hath my lif in cure,
For in this wo I may not long endure.
What nedeth greter dilatation?
I say, by tretise and ambassatrie,
And by the popes mediation,

And all the chirche, and all the chevalrie,
That in destruction of Maumetrie,

And in encrese of Cristes lawe dere,
They ben accorded so as ye may here;

How that the Soudan and his baronage,
And all his lieges shuld ycristened be,
And he shal han Custance in mariage,
And certain gold, I n'ot what quantitee,
And hereto finden suffisant suretee.
The same accord is sworne on eyther side;
Now, fair Custance, almighty God thee gide.

Now wolden som men waiten, as I gesse, That I shuld tellen all the purveiance, The which that the emperour of his noblesse Hath shapen for his doughter dame Custance. Wel may men know that so gret ordinance May no man tellen in a litel clause,

As was arraied for so high a cause.

Bishopes ben shapen with hire for to wende, Lordes, ladies, and knightes of renoun, And other folk ynow, this is the end.

And notified is thurghout al the toun,

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