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2020-08-11 16:30:09  Դձ
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ֲַʲappַ:a g 9 559 v i p<65. Lollius: The unrecognisable author whom Chaucer professes to follow in his "Troilus and Cressida," and who has been thought to mean Boccaccio."But tell me this, why thou art now so mad To sorrow thus? Why li'st thou in this wise, Since thy desire all wholly hast thou had, So that by right it ought enough suffice? But I, that never felt in my service A friendly cheer or looking of an eye, Let me thus weep and wail until I die. <70>

The blossoms fresh of Tullius'* garden swoot** *Cicero **sweet Present they not, my matter for to born:* <2> *burnish, polish Poems of Virgil take here no root, Nor craft of Galfrid <3> may not here sojourn; Why *n'am I* cunning? O well may I mourn, *am I not* For lack of science, that I cannot write Unto the princess of my life aright!

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57. The Apocalypse: The last book of the New Testament, also called Revelations. The four beasts are in chapter iv. 6.

The Author to His Book. Which I shall telle you betwixt us two; Ye muste name him to what place also, Or to what country that you list to ride. And when ye come where you list abide, Bid him descend, and trill another pin (For therein lies th' effect of all the gin*), *contrivance <10> And he will down descend and do your will, And in that place he will abide still; Though all the world had the contrary swore, He shall not thence be throwen nor be bore. Or, if you list to bid him thennes gon, Trill this pin, and he will vanish anon Out of the sight of every manner wight, And come again, be it by day or night, When that you list to clepe* him again *call In such a guise, as I shall to you sayn Betwixte you and me, and that full soon. Ride <24> when you list, there is no more to do'n.' Informed when the king was of the knight, And had conceived in his wit aright The manner and the form of all this thing, Full glad and blithe, this noble doughty king Repaired to his revel as beforn. The bridle is into the tower borne, And kept among his jewels lefe* and dear; *cherished The horse vanish'd, I n'ot* in what mannere, *know not Out of their sight; ye get no more of me: But thus I leave in lust and jollity This Cambuscan his lordes feastying,* *entertaining <25> Until well nigh the day began to spring.p>

A YEOMAN had he, and servants no mo' At that time, for *him list ride so* *it pleased him so to ride* And he was clad in coat and hood of green. A sheaf of peacock arrows<11> bright and keen Under his belt he bare full thriftily. Well could he dress his tackle yeomanly: His arrows drooped not with feathers low; And in his hand he bare a mighty bow. A nut-head <12> had he, with a brown visiage: Of wood-craft coud* he well all the usage: *knew Upon his arm he bare a gay bracer*, *small shield And by his side a sword and a buckler, And on that other side a gay daggere, Harnessed well, and sharp as point of spear: A Christopher on his breast of silver sheen. An horn he bare, the baldric was of green: A forester was he soothly* as I guess. *certainly

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This carpenter to *blissen him* began, *bless, cross himself* And said: "Now help us, Sainte Frideswide.<25> A man wot* little what shall him betide. *knows This man is fall'n with his astronomy Into some woodness* or some agony. *madness I thought aye well how that it shoulde be. Men should know nought of Godde's privity*. *secrets Yea, blessed be alway a lewed* man, *unlearned That *nought but only his believe can*. *knows no more So far'd another clerk with astronomy: than his "credo."* He walked in the fieldes for to *pry Upon* the starres, what there should befall, *keep watch on* Till he was in a marle pit y-fall.<26> He saw not that. But yet, by Saint Thomas! *Me rueth sore of* Hendy Nicholas: *I am very sorry for* He shall be *rated of* his studying, *chidden for* If that I may, by Jesus, heaven's king! Get me a staff, that I may underspore* *lever up While that thou, Robin, heavest off the door: He shall out of his studying, as I guess." And to the chamber door he gan him dress* *apply himself. His knave was a strong carl for the nonce, And by the hasp he heav'd it off at once; Into the floor the door fell down anon. This Nicholas sat aye as still as stone, And ever he gap'd upward into the air. The carpenter ween'd* he were in despair, *thought And hent* him by the shoulders mightily, *caught And shook him hard, and cried spitously;* *angrily "What, Nicholas? what how, man? look adown: Awake, and think on Christe's passioun. I crouche thee<27> from elves, and from wights*. *witches Therewith the night-spell said he anon rights*, *properly On the four halves* of the house about, *corners And on the threshold of the door without. "Lord Jesus Christ, and Sainte Benedight, Blesse this house from every wicked wight, From the night mare, the white Pater-noster; Where wonnest* thou now, Sainte Peter's sister?" *dwellest And at the last this Hendy Nicholas Gan for to sigh full sore, and said; "Alas! Shall all time world be lost eftsoones* now?" *forthwith This carpenter answer'd; "What sayest thou? What? think on God, as we do, men that swink.*" *labour This Nicholas answer'd; "Fetch me a drink; And after will I speak in privity Of certain thing that toucheth thee and me: I will tell it no other man certain."<29. "Nigellus Wireker," says Urry's Glossary, "a monk and precentor of Canterbury, wrote a Latin poem intituled 'Speculum Speculorum,' ('The mirror of mirrors') dedicated to William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, and Lord Chancellor; wherein, under the fable of an Ass (which he calls 'Burnellus') that desired a longer tail, is represented the folly of such as are not content with their own condition. There is introduced a tale of a cock, who having his leg broke by a priest's son (called Gundulfus) watched an opportunity to be revenged; which at last presented itself on this occasion: A day was appointed for Gundulfus's being admitted into holy orders at a place remote from his father's habitation; he therefore orders the servants to call him at first cock-crowing, which the cock overhearing did not crow at all that morning. So Gundulfus overslept himself, and was thereby disappointed of his ordination, the office being quite finished before he came to the place." Wireker's satire was among the most celebrated and popular Latin poems of the Middle Ages. The Ass was probably as Tyrwhitt suggests, called "Burnel" or "Brunel," from his brown colour; as, a little below, a reddish fox is called "Russel."

In youth a master had this emperour, To teache him lettrure* and courtesy; *literature, learning For of morality he was the flow'r, As in his time, *but if* bookes lie. *unless And while this master had of him mast'ry, He made him so conning and so souple,* *subtle That longe time it was ere tyranny, Or any vice, durst in him uncouple.* *be let loose

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A YEOMAN had he, and servants no mo' At that time, for *him list ride so* *it pleased him so to ride* And he was clad in coat and hood of green. A sheaf of peacock arrows<11> bright and keen Under his belt he bare full thriftily. Well could he dress his tackle yeomanly: His arrows drooped not with feathers low; And in his hand he bare a mighty bow. A nut-head <12> had he, with a brown visiage: Of wood-craft coud* he well all the usage: *knew Upon his arm he bare a gay bracer*, *small shield And by his side a sword and a buckler, And on that other side a gay daggere, Harnessed well, and sharp as point of spear: A Christopher on his breast of silver sheen. An horn he bare, the baldric was of green: A forester was he soothly* as I guess. *certainly

"And that doth* me to have so great a wonder *causeth That ye will scornen any woman so; Eke, God wot, love and I be far asunder; I am disposed bet, so may I go,* *fare or prosper Unto my death to plain and make woe; What I shall after do I cannot say, But truely as yet *me list not play.* *I am not disposed *for sport "Mine heart is now in tribulatioun; And ye in armes busy be by day; Hereafter, when ye wonnen have the town, Parauntre* then, so as it happen may, *peradventure That when I see that I never *ere sey,* *saw before* Then will I work that I never ere wrought; This word to you enough sufficen ought.

When she hath lost it in her wantonness. Let us not moulde thus in idleness. "Sir Man of Law," quoth he, "so have ye bliss, Tell us a tale anon, as forword* is. *the bargain Ye be submitted through your free assent To stand in this case at my judgement. Acquit you now, and *holde your behest*; *keep your promise* Then have ye done your devoir* at the least." *duty "Hoste," quoth he, "de par dieux jeo asente; <3> To breake forword is not mine intent. Behest is debt, and I would hold it fain, All my behest; I can no better sayn. For such law as a man gives another wight, He should himselfe usen it by right. Thus will our text: but natheless certain I can right now no thrifty* tale sayn, *worthy But Chaucer (though he *can but lewedly* *knows but imperfectly* On metres and on rhyming craftily) Hath said them, in such English as he can, Of olde time, as knoweth many a man. And if he have not said them, leve* brother, *dear In one book, he hath said them in another For he hath told of lovers up and down, More than Ovide made of mentioun In his Epistolae, that be full old. Why should I telle them, since they he told? In youth he made of Ceyx and Alcyon,<4> And since then he hath spoke of every one These noble wives, and these lovers eke. Whoso that will his large volume seek Called the Saintes' Legend of Cupid:<5> There may he see the large woundes wide Of Lucrece, and of Babylon Thisbe; The sword of Dido for the false Enee; The tree of Phillis for her Demophon; The plaint of Diane, and of Hermion, Of Ariadne, and Hypsipile; The barren isle standing in the sea; The drown'd Leander for his fair Hero; The teares of Helene, and eke the woe Of Briseis, and Laodamia; The cruelty of thee, Queen Medea, Thy little children hanging by the halse*, *neck For thy Jason, that was of love so false. Hypermnestra, Penelop', Alcest', Your wifehood he commendeth with the best. But certainly no worde writeth he Of *thilke wick'* example of Canace, *that wicked* That loved her own brother sinfully; (Of all such cursed stories I say, Fy), Or else of Tyrius Apollonius, How that the cursed king Antiochus Bereft his daughter of her maidenhead; That is so horrible a tale to read, When he her threw upon the pavement. And therefore he, *of full avisement*, *deliberately, advisedly* Would never write in none of his sermons Of such unkind* abominations; *unnatural Nor I will none rehearse, if that I may. But of my tale how shall I do this day? Me were loth to be liken'd doubteless To Muses, that men call Pierides<6> (Metamorphoseos <7> wot what I mean), But natheless I recke not a bean, Though I come after him with hawebake*; *lout <8> I speak in prose, and let him rhymes make." And with that word, he with a sober cheer Began his tale, and said as ye shall hear.But at the last I saw a man, Which that I not describe can; But that he seemed for to be A man of great authority. And therewith I anon abraid* *awoke Out of my sleepe, half afraid; Rememb'ring well what I had seen, And how high and far I had been In my ghost; and had great wonder Of what the mighty god of thunder Had let me know; and gan to write Like as ye have me heard endite. Wherefore to study and read alway I purpose to do day by day. And thus, in dreaming and in game, Endeth this little book of Fame.

A feast he made unto his lordes all Upon a time, and made them blithe be, And then his officeres gan he call; "Go, bringe forth the vessels," saide he, "Which that my father in his prosperity Out of the temple of Jerusalem reft, And to our highe goddes thanks we Of honour, that our elders* with us left." *forefathers

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<3. Peytrel: the breast-plate of a horse's harness; French, "poitrail.""And though your greene youthe flow'r as yet, In creepeth age always as still as stone, And death menaceth every age, and smit* *smiteth In each estate, for there escapeth none: And all so certain as we know each one That we shall die, as uncertain we all Be of that day when death shall on us fall.

This Constable was not lord of the place Of which I speak, there as he Constance fand,* *found But kept it strongly many a winter space, Under Alla, king of Northumberland, That was full wise, and worthy of his hand Against the Scotes, as men may well hear; But turn I will again to my mattere.

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ֲַʲappܱй·ɶ֣ɹгͣ "Thou dost, alas! so shortly thine office,* *duty Thou rakel* Night! that God, maker of kind, *rash, hasty Thee for thy haste and thine unkinde vice, So fast ay to our hemisphere bind, That never more under the ground thou wind;* *turn, revolve For through thy rakel hieing* out of Troy *hasting Have I forgone* thus hastily my joy!" *lost ϸ

¹ڷDZЧҩΤٴ| ̵2018|68ҽԱΫ 8˸Ⱦȷ

ֲַʲappί:·岻 Lucan, to thee this story I recommend, And to Sueton', and Valerie also, That of this story write *word and end* *the whole* <25> How that to these great conquerores two Fortune was first a friend, and since* a foe. *afterwards No manne trust upon her favour long, But *have her in await for evermo';* *ever be watchful against her* Witness on all these conquerores strong. ϸ

ֲַʲappƹ4չ٣꿡ηֻеŮھ| ̵2018|ʡʳȫ沿ȶг ȷ人г
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