: The complete works of John Gower volume 3 by Gower John Macaulay G C George Campbell Editor - Poetry

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CONFESSIO AMANTIS:--

LIBER V 1

LIBER VI 167

IN PRAISE OF PEACE 481

NOTES 495

GLOSSARY AND INDEX OF PROPER NAMES 555

INDEX TO THE NOTES 651

CORRIGENDA ET ADDENDA

CONFESSIO AMANTIS

Upon the bench sittende on hih With Avarice Usure I sih, Full clothed of his oghne suite, Which after gold makth chace and suite With his brocours, that renne aboute Lich unto racches in a route. Such lucre is non above grounde, Which is noght of tho racches founde; 4390 For wher thei se beyete sterte, That schal hem in no wise asterte, Bot thei it dryve into the net Of lucre, which Usure hath set. Usure with the riche duelleth, To al that evere he beith and selleth He hath ordeined of his sleyhte Mesure double and double weyhte: Outward he selleth be the lasse, And with the more he makth his tasse, 4400 Wherof his hous is full withinne. He reccheth noght, be so he winne, Though that ther lese ten or tuelve: His love is al toward himselve And to non other, bot he se That he mai winne suche thre; For wher he schal oght yive or lene, He wol ayeinward take a bene, Ther he hath lent the smale pese. And riht so ther ben manye of these 4410 Lovers, that thogh thei love a lyte, That scarsly wolde it weie a myte, Yit wolde thei have a pound again, As doth Usure in his bargain. Bot certes such usure unliche It falleth more unto the riche, Als wel of love as of beyete, Than unto hem that be noght grete, And, as who seith, ben simple and povere; For sielden is whan thei recovere, 4420 Bot if it be thurgh gret decerte. And natheles men se poverte With porsuite and continuance Fulofte make a gret chevance And take of love his avantage, Forth with the help of his brocage, That maken seme wher is noght. And thus fulofte is love boght For litel what, and mochel take, With false weyhtes that thei make. 4430 Nou, Sone, of that I seide above Thou wost what Usure is of love: Tell me forthi what so thou wilt, If thou therof hast eny gilt. Mi fader, nay, for ought I hiere. For of tho pointz ye tolden hiere I wol you be mi trouthe assure, Mi weyhte of love and mi mesure Hath be mor large and mor certein Than evere I tok of love ayein: 4440 For so yit couthe I nevere of sleyhte, To take ayein be double weyhte Of love mor than I have yive. For als so wiss mot I be schrive And have remission of Sinne, As so yit couthe I nevere winne, Ne yit so mochel, soth to sein, That evere I mihte have half ayein Of so full love as I have lent: And if myn happ were so wel went, 4450 That for the hole I mihte have half, Me thenkth I were a goddeshalf. For where Usure wole have double, Mi conscience is noght so trouble, I biede nevere as to my del Bot of the hole an halvendel; That is non excess, as me thenketh. Bot natheles it me forthenketh; For wel I wot that wol noght be, For every day the betre I se 4460 That hou so evere I yive or lene Mi love in place ther I mene, For oght that evere I axe or crave, I can nothing ayeinward have. Bot yit for that I wol noght lete, What so befalle of mi beyete, That I ne schal hire yive and lene Mi love and al mi thoght so clene, That toward me schal noght beleve. And if sche of hire goode leve 4470 Rewarde wol me noght again, I wot the laste of my bargain Schal stonde upon so gret a lost, That I mai neveremor the cost Recovere in this world til I die. So that touchende of this partie I mai me wel excuse and schal; And forto speke forth withal, If eny brocour for me wente, That point cam nevere in myn entente: 4480 So that the more me merveilleth, What thing it is mi ladi eilleth, That al myn herte and al my time Sche hath, and doth no betre bime. I have herd seid that thoght is fre, And natheles in privete To you, mi fader, that ben hiere Min hole schrifte forto hiere, I dar min herte wel desclose. Touchende usure, as I suppose, 4490 Which as ye telle in love is used, Mi ladi mai noght ben excused; That for o lokinge of hire y? Min hole herte til I dye With al that evere I may and can Sche hath me wonne to hire man: Wherof, me thenkth, good reson wolde That sche somdel rewarde scholde, And yive a part, ther sche hath al. I not what falle hierafter schal, 4500 Bot into nou yit dar I sein, Hire liste nevere yive ayein A goodli word in such a wise, Wherof min hope mihte arise, Mi grete love to compense. I not hou sche hire conscience Excuse wole of this usure; Be large weyhte and gret mesure Sche hath mi love, and I have noght Of that which I have diere boght, 4510 And with myn herte I have it paid; Bot al that is asyde laid, And I go loveles aboute. Hire oghte stonde in ful gret doute, Til sche redresce such a sinne, That sche wole al mi love winne And yifth me noght to live by: Noght als so moche as 'grant mercy' Hir list to seie, of which I mihte Som of mi grete peine allyhte. 4520 Bot of this point, lo, thus I fare As he that paith for his chaffare, And beith it diere, and yit hath non, So mot he nedes povere gon: Thus beie I diere and have no love, That I ne mai noght come above To winne of love non encress. Bot I me wole natheles Touchende usure of love aquite; And if mi ladi be to wyte, 4530 I preie to god such grace hir sende That sche be time it mot amende. Mi Sone, of that thou hast ansuerd Touchende Usure I have al herd, Hou thou of love hast wonne smale: Bot that thou tellest in thi tale And thi ladi therof accusest, Me thenkth tho wordes thou misusest. For be thin oghne knowlechinge Thou seist hou sche for o lokinge 4540 Thin hole herte fro the tok: Sche mai be such, that hire o lok Is worth thin herte manyfold; So hast thou wel thin herte sold, Whan thou hast that is more worth. And ek of that thou tellest forth, Hou that hire weyhte of love unevene Is unto thin, under the hevene Stod nevere in evene that balance Which stant in loves governance. 4550 Such is the statut of his lawe, That thogh thi love more drawe And peise in the balance more, Thou miht noght axe ayein therfore Of duete, bot al of grace. For love is lord in every place, Ther mai no lawe him justefie Be reddour ne be compaignie, That he ne wole after his wille Whom that him liketh spede or spille. 4560 To love a man mai wel beginne, Bot whether he schal lese or winne, That wot noman til ate laste: Forthi coveite noght to faste, Mi Sone, bot abyd thin ende, Per cas al mai to goode wende. Bot that thou hast me told and said, Of o thing I am riht wel paid, That thou be sleyhte ne be guile Of no brocour hast otherwhile 4570 Engined love, for such dede Is sore venged, as I rede.

Blinde Avarice of his lignage For conseil and for cousinage, To be withholde ayein largesse, Hath on, whos name is seid Skarsnesse, The which is kepere of his hous, And is so thurghout averous, That he no good let out of honde; Thogh god himself it wolde fonde, Of yifte scholde he nothing have; And if a man it wolde crave, 4680 He moste thanne faile nede, Wher god himselve mai noght spede. And thus Skarsnesse in every place Be reson mai no thonk porchace, And natheles in his degree Above alle othre most prive With Avarice stant he this. For he governeth that ther is In ech astat of his office After the reule of thilke vice; 4690 He takth, he kepth, he halt, he bint, That lihtere is to fle the flint Than gete of him in hard or neisshe Only the value of a reysshe Of good in helpinge of an other, Noght thogh it were his oghne brother. For in the cas of yifte and lone Stant every man for him al one, Him thenkth of his unkindeschipe That him nedeth no felaschipe: 4700 Be so the bagge and he acorden, Him reccheth noght what men recorden Of him, or it be evel or good. For al his trust is on his good, So that al one he falleth ofte, Whan he best weneth stonde alofte, Als wel in love as other wise; For love is evere of som reprise To him that wole his love holde. Forthi, mi Sone, as thou art holde, 4710 Touchende of this tell me thi schrifte: Hast thou be scars or large of yifte Unto thi love, whom thou servest? For after that thou wel deservest Of yifte, thou miht be the bet; For that good holde I wel beset, For why thou miht the betre fare; Thanne is no wisdom forto spare. For thus men sein, in every nede He was wys that ferst made mede; 4720 For where as mede mai noght spede, I not what helpeth other dede: Fulofte he faileth of his game That wol with ydel hand reclame His hauk, as many a nyce doth. Forthi, mi Sone, tell me soth And sei the trouthe, if thou hast be Unto thy love or skars or fre. Mi fader, it hath stonde thus, That if the tresor of Cresus 4730 And al the gold Octovien, Forth with the richesse Yndien Of Perles and of riche stones, Were al togedre myn at ones, I sette it at nomore acompte Than wolde a bare straw amonte, To yive it hire al in a day, Be so that to that suete may I myhte like or more or lesse. And thus be cause of my scarsnesse 4740 Ye mai wel understonde and lieve That I schal noght the worse achieve The pourpos which is in my thoght. Bot yit I yaf hir nevere noght, Ne therto dorste a profre make; For wel I wot sche wol noght take, And yive wol sche noght also, She is eschu of bothe tuo. And this I trowe be the skile Towardes me, for sche ne wile 4750 That I have eny cause of hope, Noght also mochel as a drope. Bot toward othre, as I mai se, Sche takth and yifth in such degre, That as be weie of frendlihiede Sche can so kepe hir wommanhiede, That every man spekth of hir wel. Bot sche wole take of me no del, And yit sche wot wel that I wolde Yive and do bothe what I scholde 4760 To plesen hire in al my myht: Be reson this wot every wyht, For that mai be no weie asterte, Ther sche is maister of the herte, Sche mot be maister of the good. For god wot wel that al my mod And al min herte and al mi thoght And al mi good, whil I have oght, Als freliche as god hath it yive, It schal ben hires, while I live, 4770 Riht as hir list hirself commande. So that it nedeth no demande, To axe of me if I be scars To love, for as to tho pars I wole ansuere and seie no. Mi Sone, that is riht wel do. For often times of scarsnesse It hath be sen, that for the lesse Is lost the more, as thou schalt hiere A tale lich to this matiere. 4780

The vice lik unto the fend, Which nevere yit was mannes frend, And cleped is Unkindeschipe, Of covine and of felaschipe With Avarice he is withholde. Him thenkth he scholde noght ben holde 4890 Unto the moder which him bar; Of him mai nevere man be war, He wol noght knowe the merite, For that he wolde it noght aquite; Which in this world is mochel used, And fewe ben therof excused. To telle of him is endeles, Bot this I seie natheles, Wher as this vice comth to londe, Ther takth noman his thonk on honde; 4900 Thogh he with alle his myhtes serve, He schal of him no thonk deserve. He takth what eny man wol yive, Bot whil he hath o day to live, He wol nothing rewarde ayein; He gruccheth forto yive o grein, Wher he hath take a berne full. That makth a kinde herte dull, To sette his trust in such frendschipe, Ther as he fint no kindeschipe; 4910 And forto speke wordes pleine, Thus hiere I many a man compleigne, That nou on daies thou schalt finde At nede fewe frendes kinde; What thou hast don for hem tofore, It is foryete, as it were lore. The bokes speken of this vice, And telle hou god of his justice, Be weie of kinde and ek nature And every lifissh creature, 4920 The lawe also, who that it kan, Thei dampnen an unkinde man. It is al on to seie unkinde As thing which don is ayein kinde, For it with kinde nevere stod A man to yelden evel for good. For who that wolde taken hede, A beste is glad of a good dede, And loveth thilke creature After the lawe of his nature 4930 Which doth him ese. And forto se Of this matiere Auctorite, Fulofte time it hath befalle; Wherof a tale amonges alle, Which is of olde ensamplerie, I thenke forto specefie.

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