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

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Ferst to Nature if that I me compleigne, Ther finde I hou that every creature Som time ayer hath love in his demeine, So that the litel wrenne in his mesure Hath yit of kinde a love under his cure; And I bot on desire, of which I misse: And thus, bot I, hath every kinde his blisse. 2230

The resoun of my wit it overpasseth, Of that Nature techeth me the weie To love, and yit no certein sche compasseth Hou I schal spede, and thus betwen the tweie I stonde, and not if I schal live or deie. For thogh reson ayein my will debate, I mai noght fle, that I ne love algate.

Upon miself is thilke tale come, Hou whilom Pan, which is the god of kinde, With love wrastlede and was overcome: 2240 For evere I wrastle and evere I am behinde, That I no strengthe in al min herte finde, Wherof that I mai stonden eny throwe; So fer mi wit with love is overthrowe.

Whom nedeth help, he mot his helpe crave, Or helpeles he schal his nede spille: Pleinly thurghsoght my wittes alle I have, Bot non of hem can helpe after mi wille; And als so wel I mihte sitte stille, As preie unto mi lady eny helpe: 2250 Thus wot I noght wherof miself to helpe.

Unto the grete Jove and if I bidde, To do me grace of thilke swete tunne, Which under keie in his celier amidde Lith couched, that fortune is overrunne, Bot of the bitter cuppe I have begunne, I not hou ofte, and thus finde I no game; For evere I axe and evere it is the same.

I se the world stonde evere upon eschange, Nou wyndes loude, and nou the weder softe; 2260 I mai sen ek the grete mone change, And thing which nou is lowe is eft alofte; The dredfull werres into pes fulofte Thei torne; and evere is Danger in o place, Which wol noght change his will to do me grace.

Bot upon this the grete clerc Ovide, Of love whan he makth his remembrance, He seith ther is the blinde god Cupide, The which hath love under his governance, And in his hond with many a fyri lance 2270 He woundeth ofte, ther he wol noght hele; And that somdiel is cause of mi querele.

Ovide ek seith that love to parforne Stant in the hond of Venus the goddesse, Bot whan sche takth hir conseil with Satorne, Ther is no grace, and in that time, I gesse, Began mi love, of which myn hevynesse Is now and evere schal, bot if I spede: So wot I noght miself what is to rede.

Forthi to you, Cupide and Venus bothe, 2280 With al myn hertes obeissance I preie, If ye were ate ferste time wrothe, Whan I began to love, as I you seie, Nou stynt, and do thilke infortune aweie, So that Danger, which stant of retenue With my ladi, his place mai remue.

O thou Cupide, god of loves lawe, That with thi Dart brennende hast set afyre Min herte, do that wounde be withdrawe, Or yif me Salve such as I desire: 2290 For Service in thi Court withouten hyre To me, which evere yit have kept thin heste, Mai nevere be to loves lawe honeste.

O thou, gentile Venus, loves queene, Withoute gult thou dost on me thi wreche; Thou wost my peine is evere aliche grene For love, and yit I mai it noght areche: This wold I for my laste word beseche, That thou mi love aquite as I deserve, Or elles do me pleinly forto sterve. 2300

FOOTNOTES:

Noght al as ?ou desire woldest Bot so as ?ou be resoun scholdest

S ... ?

Quam cinxere freta, Gower, tua carmina leta Per loca discreta canit Anglia laude repleta. Carminis Athleta, satirus, tibi, siue Poeta, Sit laus completa quo gloria stat sine meta.

FOOTNOTES:

EPISTOLA huius operis sui AJECL huius operis vel opusculi sui XRB? huius opusculi ?

Speculum hominis A ... B? Speculum mediantis B

Secundus liber versibus exametri et pentametri sermone latino componitur, tractat de variis infortuniis tempore regis Ricardi secundi in Anglia multipliciter contingentibus, vbi pro statu regni compositor deuocius exorat. Nomenque voluminis huius, quod in septem diuiditur partes, Vox clamantis intitulatur BT?

TO KING HENRY THE FOURTH

IN PRAISE OF PEACE

O worthi noble kyng, Henry the ferthe, In whom the glade fortune is befalle The poeple to governe uppon this erthe, God hath the chose in comfort of ous alle: The worschipe of this lond, which was doun falle, Now stant upriht thurgh grace of thi goodnesse, Which every man is holde forto blesse.

The highe god of his justice allone The right which longeth to thi regalie Declared hath to stonde in thi persone, 10 And more than god may no man justefie. Thi title is knowe uppon thin ancestrie, The londes folk hath ek thy riht affermed; So stant thi regne of god and man confermed.

Ther is no man mai seie in other wise, That god himself ne hath thi riht declared, Whereof the lond is boun to thi servise, Which for defalte of help hath longe cared: Bot now ther is no mannes herte spared To love and serve and wirche thi plesance, 20 And al is this thurgh godes pourveiance.

In alle thing which is of god begonne Ther folwith grace, if it be wel governed: Thus tellen thei whiche olde bookes conne, Whereof, my lord, y wot wel thow art lerned. Axe of thi god, so schalt thou noght be werned Of no reqweste which is resonable; For god unto the goode is favorable.

Kyng Salomon, which hadde at his axinge Of god what thing him was levest to crave, 30 He ches wisdom unto the governynge Of goddis folk, the whiche he wolde save: And as he ches it fel him forto have; For thurgh his wit, whil that his regne laste, He gat him pees and reste unto the laste.

Bot Alisaundre, as telleth his histoire, Unto the god besoghte in other weie, Of all the world to winne the victoire, So that undir his swerd it myht obeie. In werre he hadde al that he wolde preie, 40 The myghti god behight him that beheste, The world he wan, and had it of conqweste.

Bot thogh it fel at thilke time so, That Alisandre his axinge hath achieved, This sinful world was al paiene tho, Was non which hath the hihe god believed: No wondir was thogh thilke world was grieved, Thogh a tiraunt his pourpos myhte winne; Al was vengance and infortune of sinne.

Bot now the feith of Crist is come a place 50 Among the princes in this erthe hiere, It sit hem wel to do pite and grace; Bot yit it mot be tempred in manere: For as thei finden cause in the matiere Uppon the point, what aftirward betide, The lawe of riht schal noght be leid aside.

So mai a kyng of werre the viage Ordeigne and take, as he therto is holde, To cleime and axe his rightful heritage In alle places wher it is withholde: 60 Bot other wise if god himsilve wolde Afferme love and pes betwen the kynges, Pes is the beste above alle erthely thinges.

Good is teschue werre, and natheles A kyng may make werre uppon his right, For of bataile the final ende is pees. Thus stant the lawe, that a worthi knyght Uppon his trouthe may go to the fight; Bot if so were that he myghte chese, Betre is the pees, of which may no man lese. 70

pes oghte every man alyve, First for to sette his liege lord in reste, And ek these othre men that thei ne stryve; For so this world mai stonden ate beste. What kyng that wolde be the worthieste, The more he myghte oure dedly werre cesse, The more he schulde his worthinesse encresse.

Pes is the chief of al the worldes welthe, And to the heven it ledeth ek the weie; Pes is of soule and lif the mannes helthe, 80 Of pestilence and doth the werre aweie. Mi liege lord, tak hiede of that y seie, If werre may be left, tak pes on honde, Which may noght be withoute goddis sonde.

With pes stant every creature in reste; Withoute pes ther may no lif be glad: Above alle othre good pes is the beste, Pes hath himself whan werre is al bestad, The pes is sauf, the werre is evere adrad: Pes is of alle charite the keie, 90 Which hath the lif and soule forto weie.

My liege lord, if that the list to seche The sothe essamples that the werre hath wroght, Thow schalt wiel hiere of wisemennes speche That dedly werre turneth into noght. For if these olde bokes be wel soght, Ther myght thou se what thing the werre hath do, Bothe of conqueste and conquerour also.

For vein honour or for the worldes good Thei that whilom the stronge werres made, 100 Wher be thei now? Bethenk wel in thi mod. The day is goon, the nyght is derk and fade, Her crualte, which mad hem thanne glade, Thei sorwen now, and yit have noght the more; The blod is schad, which no man mai restore.

The werre bringth in poverte at hise hieles, Wherof the comon poeple is sore grieved; The werre hath set his cart on thilke whieles Wher that fortune mai noght be believed. For whan men wene best to have achieved, Ful ofte it is al newe to beginne: The werre hath no thing siker, thogh he winne.

Forthi, my worthi prince, in Cristes halve, 120 As for a part whos feith thou hast to guide, Ley to this olde sor a newe salve, And do the werre awei, what so betide: Pourchace pes, and set it be thi side, And suffre noght thi poeple be devoured, So schal thi name evere after stonde honoured.

If eny man be now or evere was Ayein the pes thi preve counseillour, Let god ben of thi counseil in this cas, And put awei the cruel werreiour. 130 For god, which is of man the creatour, He wolde noght men slowe his creature Withoute cause of dedly forfeture.

Wher nedeth most, behoveth most to loke. Mi lord, how so thi werres ben withoute, Of time passed who that hiede toke, Good were at hom to se riht wel aboute; For everemor the werste is forto doute: Bot if thou myghtest parfit pes atteigne, Ther schulde be no cause forto pleigne. 140

Aboute a kyng good counseil is to preise Above alle othre thinges most vailable; Bot yit a kyng withinne himself schal peise, And se the thinges that ben resonable, And ther uppon he schal his wittes stable Among the men to sette pes in evene, For love of him which is the kyng of hevene.

O kyng fulfild of grace and of knyghthode, Remembre uppon this point for Cristes sake, If pes be profred unto thi manhode, Thin honour sauf, let it noght be forsake. Though thou the werres darst wel undirtake, Aftir reson yit tempre thi corage, 160 For lich to pes ther is non avantage.

My worthi lord, thenk wel, how so befalle, Of thilke lore, as holi bokes sein, Crist is the heved and we ben membres alle, Als wel the subgit as the sovereign: So sit it wel that charite be plein, Which unto god himselve most acordeth, So as the lore of Cristes word recordeth.

In tholde lawe, er Crist himself was bore, Among the ten comandementz y rede 170 How that manslaghtre schulde be forbore; Such was the will that time of the godhede: And aftirward, whanne Crist tok his manhede, Pes was the ferste thing he let do crie Ayein the worldes rancour and envie.

And er Crist wente out of this erthe hiere, And stigh to hevene, he made his testament, Wher he beqwath to his disciples there And yaf his pes, which is the foundement Of charite, withouten whos assent 180 The worldes pes mai nevere wel be tried, Ne love kept, ne lawe justefied.

The Jewes with the paiens hadden werre, Bot thei among hemself stode evere in pes: Whi schulde thanne oure pes stonde out of herre, Which Crist hath chose unto his oghne encres? For Crist is more than was Mo?ses, And Crist hath set the parfit of the lawe, The which scholde in no wise be withdrawe.

To yive ous pes was cause whi Crist dide; 190 Withoute pes may no thing stonde availed: Bot now a man mai sen on everi side How Cristes feith is every dai assailed, With the Paiens destruid, and so batailed That for defalte of help and of defence Unethe hath Crist his dewe reverence.

The worldes cause is waited overal, Ther ben the werres redi to the fulle; Bot Cristes oghne cause in special, Ther ben the swerdes and the speres dulle; And with the sentence of the popes bulle, As forto do the folk paien obeie, The chirche is turned al an other weie. 210

It is to wondre above a mannys wit Withoute werre how Cristes feith was wonne, And we that ben uppon this erthe yit Ne kepe it noght, as it was first begonne. To every creature undir the sonne Crist bad himself how that we schulden preche, And to the folk his evangile teche.

More light it is to kepe than to make; Bot that we founden mad tofore the hond We kepe noght, bot lete it lightly slake. 220 The pes of Crist hath altobroke his bond, We reste ourselve and soeffrin every lond To slen ech other as thing undefendid: So stant the werre, and pes is noght amendid.

Bot thogh the heved of holy chirche above Ne do noght al his hole businesse Among the men to sette pes and love, These kynges oughten of here rightwisnesse Here oghne cause among hemself redresse: Thogh Petres schip as now hath lost his stiere, 230 It lith in hem that barge forto stiere.

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