So mochel hath yit thy whirlynge up and down To hym that over hymself hath the maystrye, For fynaly, Fortune, I thee deffye. O Socrates, thou stidfast chaumpyoun, I knew hir ek a fals dissimuloure, Le Responce de Fortune a Pleintif. No man ys wrechchyd but hymself yt wene, And he that hath hymself hath suffisaunce. Whi seysthow thanne I am to the so kene, That hast thyself out of my governaunce? Sey thus: "Graunt mercy of thyn habound aunce 4 That thow hast lent or this ;" why wolt thou 3C stryve. What woost thow yit how I the wol avaunce? And ek thow hast thy beste frende alyve. I have the taught devisyoun bytwene Frend of effect" and frende of countenaunce. 1 No matter for thy roughness (Fr. roideur). Countenance Think. Many thanks. Reality. VISAGE SANZ PEINTURE. 201 The nedeth nat the galle of no hyene, 40 How manye have I refused to sustene, Syn I the fostred have in thy plesaunce ! Wolthow thanne make a statute on thy quene, That I shal ben ay at thy ordynaunce? Thow born art in my regne of varyaunce,2 Aboute the wheel with oother most thow dryve; My loore is bet, than wikke is thi grevaunce, And ek thou hast thy beste frende alyve. Le Responce du Pleintif contre Fortune. Thy loore I dempne! it is adversyte ! My frend maysthow nat reven, blynde god desse! That I thy frendes knowe, I thanke to the ; Le Responce de Fortune contre le Pleintif 50 4 Take away 1 Goodness. Changeable kingdom. Lesson. Prog And now me lykyth to withdrawe me, ба The see may ebbe and flowen moore or lesse ; The welkne hath myht to shyne, reyne, or hayle ; Ryht so mot I kythen my brutelnesse,2. In general this rewle may nat fayle. Le Pleintif. Lo, excussyoun of the Majeste Lenvoy de Fortune. 70 Prynses! I prey yow of yowre gentilesse, Lat nat this man on me thus crye and pleyne, And I shal quyte yow youre bysynesse, At my requeste as thre of yow or tweyne ; That but yow lest releve hym of hys peyne, Preyeth hys beste frend of his noblesse, That to som betere estat he may attayne. 1 Royalty. 2 Show my fickleness. 8 Doomsday. That is, in affairs of this world. An unknown friend, to whom this delicate petition for assistance was addressed. TO HIS PURSE. THE COMPLEYNTE OF CHAUCER TO HIS PURSE. To you, my purse, and to noon other wight For, certes, but-yf ye make me hevy chere, Me were as leef be layde upon my bere, For whiche unto your mercy thus I crye, Beeth hevy ageyne, or elles mote I dye ! Now voucheth sauf this day, or it be nyghte, That I of you the blissful soune may here, Or see your colour lyke the sonne bryghte, That of yelownesse hadde never pere. Ye be my lyfe! ye be myn hertys stere !1 Quene of comfort and goode companye! Beth hevy ageyne, or elles mote I dye. Now, purse, that ben to me my lyves lyght And saveour, as doun in this worlde here, Oute of this toune helpe me thurgh your myght, Syn that ye wole not bene my tresorere; For I am shave as nye as is a frere. But I praye unto your curtesye, Beth hevy ageyn, or elles moote I dye! 1 Guide. L'Envoye de Chaucer. O conquerour of Brutes Albyoun,1 Been verray kynge,2 this song to you I sende, And ye that mowen 3 alle myn harme amende, Have mynde upon my supplicacioun ! The Albion of Brutus, a descendant of Æneas. King Henry IV. seems to be meant. May. |