And, but his heir love vertu, as dide he, He is noght gentil, thogh he riche seme, Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe. Vyce may wel be heir to old richesse; 15 But ther may no man, as men may wel see,

Bequethe his heir his vertuous noblesse
That is appropred unto no degree,
But to the firste fader in magestee,
That maketh him his heir, that can him
queme,

Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.

20

Balade.

Sou tyme this world was so stedfast and stable,

That mannes word was obligacioun,
And now hit is so fals and deceivable,
That word and deed, as in conclusioun,
Ben no-thing lyk, for turned up so doun 5
Is al this world for mede and wilfulnesse,
That al is lost for lak of stedfastnesse.
What maketh this world to be so variable,
But lust that folk have in dissensioun ?
Among us now a man is holde unable, 10
But-if he can, by som collusioun,
Don his neighbour wrong or oppressioun.
What causeth this, but wilful wrecched-

nesse,

That al is lost, for lak of stedfastnesse?

15

That of knighthode he is parfit richesse.
Honour honoureth him for his noblesse ;
Therto so wel hath formed him Nature,
That I am his for ever, I him assure,
For every wight preiseth his gentilesse.
And not-withstanding al his suffisaunce,
His gentil herte is of so greet humblesse
To me in worde, in werke, in contenaunce,
And me to serve is al his besinesse,
That I am set in verrey sikernesse.
Thus oghte I blesse wel myn aventure,
Sith that him list me serven and honoure;
For every wight preiseth his gentilesse.

20

II. (Disquietude caused by Jealousy.) Now certes, Love, hit is right covenable That men ful dere bye thy noble thing, 26 As wake a-bedde, and fasten at the table, Weping to laughe, and singe in compleyning,

And doun to caste visage and loking,

Often to chaungen hewe and contenaunce, +Pleyne in sleping, and dremen at the

daunce,

Al the revers of any glad feling.

Jalousye be hanged by a cable!
She wolde al knowe through hir espying;
Ther doth no wight no-thing so resonable,
That al nis harm in hir imagening.
Thus dere abought is love, in yeving,
Which ofte he yiveth with-oute ordin-

aunce,

As sorow ynogh, and litel of plesaunce, Al the revers of any glad feling.

36

40

A litel tyme his yift is agreable,
But ful encomberous is the using;
For sotel Jalousye, the deceyvable,'
Ful often-tyme causeth destourbing.
Thus be we ever in drede and suffering,
In nouncerteyn we languisshe in pen-
46
And han ful often many an hard mes-
chaunce,

aunce,

Al the revers of any glad feling.

III. (Satisfaction in Constancy.) But certes, Love, I sey nat in such wyse That for t'escape out of your lace I mente; For I so longe have been in your servyse 51 That for to lete of wol I never assente; No force thogh Jalousye me tormente; Suffyceth me to see him whan I may, 54 And therfore certes, to myn ending-day To love him best ne shal I never repente. And certes, Love, whan I me wel avyse On any estat that man may represente,