Noship yit karf the wawes grene and blewe; No marchaunt yit ne fette outlandissh ware; No trompes for the werres folk ne knewe, Netowres heye and walles rounde or square.

What sholde it han avayled to werreye? Ther lay no profit, ther was no richesse ; But cursed was the tyme, I dar wel seye, That men first dide hir swety besynesse To grobbe up metal lurkyng in darknesse, And in the ryverės fyrst gemmės soghte; Allas! than sprong up al the cursednesse Of covetyse that fyrst our sorwe broughte!

Thise tyraunts putte hem gladly nat in

Yit were no paleis chaumbrės, ne non halles;

In caves and [in] wodės softe and swete, Slepten this blissed folk withowte walles, On gras or leves in parfit joye and quiéte; No down of fetherės, ne no bleched shete Was kid to hem, but in seurtee they slepte. Hir hertės were al oon withoutė galles, Everich of hem his feith to other kepte.

Unforged was the hauberke and the
plate;

The lambish peple, voyded of alle vyce, 50
Hadden no fantasyė to debate,
But ech of hem wolde other wel cheryce;
No pridė, non envye, non avaryce,
No lord, no taylage by no tyranye,
Humblesse, and pes, good feith, the
emperice,

Yit was nat Jupiter the likerous, That first was fader of delicacye, Come in this world, ne Nembrot desyrous To reynen had nat maad his tourės hye. 60 Allas! allas! now may men wepe and crye!

For in our dayės nis but covetyse, [And] dowblenesse, and tresoun, and envey,

Poysoun, manslaughtre, and mordre in sondry wyse.

FORTUNE

75

And I shal quytė you your bisynesse
At my requeste, as three of you or tweyne ;
And but you list releve him of his peyne,
Preyeth his beste frend, of his noblesse
That to som bettre estat he may atteyne.

Made thee of noght, and in especiál
Draw unto him, and pray in general
For thee, and eek for other, hevenlich
mede;

And trouthe shall delivere, it is no drede.
Explicit le bon conseil de G. Chaucer.

TRUTH

BALADE DE BON CONSEYL

FLEE fro the prees, and dwelle with sothfastnesse

Suffice unto thy thyng though hit be smal; For hord hath hate and clymbyng tikel

nesse,

Prees hath envye, and welė blent overal; Savour no more than thee bihovė shal; Werk wel thy-self, that other folk canst rede,

And trouthe shal delivere, it is no drede.

10

Tempest thee noght al croked to redresse
In trust of hir that turneth as a bal:
Greet resté stant in litel besynesse ;
An eek be war to sporne ageyn an al;
Stryve noght, as doth the crokke with the
wal.

Daunté thy-self, that dauntest otherės dede,
And trouthe shall delivere, it is no drede.

That thee is sent, receyve in buxumnesse, The wrastling for this worlde axeth a fal. Her nis non hoom, her nis but wildernesse. Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beste, out

GENTILESSE

MORAL BALADE OF CHAUCER THE firstė stok and fader of gentilesse,

What man that claymeth gentil for to be Moste folwe his trace and alle his wittes dresse

Vertu to sewe and vycès for to flee.

For unto vertu longeth dignitee, And nought the revers, saufly dar I deme, Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe. This firstė stok was ful of rightwysnesse,

Trewe of his word, sobre, pitous and free, Clene of his goste and loved besynesse, 10 Ageynst the vyce of slouthe, in honestee;

And but his heir love vertu, as dide he, He nis nought gentil though he richėseme, Al were he mitre, croune, or diademe.

Vycė may wel be heyr to old richesse, But there may no man, as ye may wel

endure,

Now certés, Love, hit is right covenable, That men ful derė bye the noble thyng, As wake a-bedde, and fasten at the table, Wepyng to laughe and singe in compleynyng,

And doun to castė visage and lokyng, 29 Often to chaungen hewe and countenaunce, Pleyne in slepyng, and dremen at the daunce,

Al the revers of any glad felyng.

Ialousyė be hanged by a cable! She wolde al knowė through her espying, Ther doth no wyght nothyng so resonable, That al nys harm in her ymagynyng. Thus dere abought is Love in his yevyng, Which ofte he yiveth withouten ordyn