Book II, lines 1275–1672

The clowdy nyght, wndir whois obscure
The rest and quiet of euery criatur
Lyith sauf, quhare the gost with besyneß
Is occupiit, with thoghtfull hewynes;
And, for that thocht furth schewing vil his mycht,
Go fare-wel rest and quiet of the nycht.
Artur, I meyne, to whome that rest is nocht,
But al the nycht supprisit is with thocht;
In to his bed he turnyth to and fro,
Remembryng the apperans of his wo,
That is to say, his deith, his confusioune,
And of his realme the opin distruccioune.
That in his wit he can no thing prowide,
Bot tak his forton thar for to abyd.
Vp goith the son, vp goith the hot morow;
The thoghtful king al the nycht to sorow,
That sauch the day, vpone his feit he start,
And furth he goith, distrublit in his hart.
A quhill he walkith in his pensyf gost,
So was he ware thar cummyne to the ost
O clerk, with whome he was aqwynt befor,
In to his tyme non better was y-bore;
Of qwhois com he gretly vas Reiosit,
For in to hyme sum comfort he supposit;
Betuex them was one hartly affeccioune.
Non orderis had he of Relegioune,
Famus he was, and of gret excellence,
And rycht expert in al the vij. science;
Contemplatif and chast in gouernance,
And clepit was the maister amytans.
The king befor his palȝoune one the gren,
That knew hyme well, and haith his cummyn señ,
Velcummyt hyme, and maid hyme rycht gud chere,
And he agan, agrewit as he were,
Saith, “nothir of thi salosing, nor the,
Ne rak I nocht, ne charg I nocht,” quod hee.
Than quod the king, “maister, and for what why
Ar ȝe agrewit? or quhat tresspas have I
Commytit, so that I shal yow disples?”
Quod he, “no thing It is ayane myn eß,
But only contrare of thi-self alway;
So fare the courß yow passith of the way.
Thi schip, that goth apone the stormy vall,
Ney of thi careldis in the swelf it fall,
Whar she almost is in the perell drent;
That is to say, yow art so far myswent
Of wykitneß vpone the vrechit dans,
That yow art fallyng in the storng vengans
Of goddis wreth, that shal the son deuour;
For of his strok approchit now the hour
That boith thi Ringe, thi ceptre, and thi crovñ,
Frome hie estat he smyting shal adoune.
And that accordith well, for in thi thocht
Yow knawith not hyme, the wich that haith the wrocht,
And set the vp in to this hie estat
From powert; for, as the-selwyne wat,
It cummyth al bot only of his myght,
And not of the, nor of thi elderis Richt
To the discending, as in heritage,
For yow was not byget in to spousag.
Wharfor yow aucht his biding to obserf,
And at thy mycht yow shuld hyme pleß and serf;
That dois yow nat, for yow art so confussit
With this fals warld, that thow haith hyme Refusit,
And brokine haith his reul and ordynans,
The wich to the he gave in gouernans.
He maid the king, he maid the gouernour,
He maid the so, and set in hie honour
Of Realmys and of [diuerß] peplis sere;
Efter his loue thow shuld them Reul and stere,
And wnoppressit kep in to Iustice,
The wykit men and pwnyce for ther wice.
Yow dois no thing, bot al in the contrare,
And suffrith al thi puple to forfare;
Yow haith non Ey but one thyne awn delyt,
Or quhat that plesing shall thyne appetyt.
In the defalt of law and of Iustice,
Wndir thi hond is sufferyt gret suppriß
Of fadirleß, and modirleß also,
And wedwis ek sustenit mekill wo.
With gret myschef oppressit ar the pure;
And thow art cauß of al this hol Iniure,
Whar-of that god a raknyng sal craf
At the, and a sore Raknyng sal hafe;
For thyne estat is gewyne to Redreß
Thar ned, and kep them to rychtwyneß;
And thar is non that ther complantis heris;
The mychty folk, and ek the flattereris
Ar cheif with the, and doith this oppressioun;
If thai complen, It is ther confussioune.
And daniell saith that who doith to the pure,
Or faderleß, or modirleß, EnIure,
Or to the puple, that ilke to god doth hee;
And al this harme sustenit Is throw the.
Yow sufferith them, oppressith and anoyith;
So yow art cauß, throw the thei ar distroyth;
Than, at thi mycht, god so distroys yow.
What shal he do aȝane? quhat shal yow,
When he distroys by vengance of his suerd
The synaris fra the vysagis of the Erde?
Than vtraly yow shall distroyt bee;
And that Richt weill apperis now of thee,
For yow allon byleft art solitere;
And the wyß salamon can duclar,
‘Wo be to hyme that is byleft alone,
He haith no help;’ so Is thi forton goñe;
For he is callit, with quhom that god is nocht,
Allone; and so thi wykitneß haith wrocht
That god hyme-self he is bycummyn thi fo,
Thi pupleis hartis haith thow tynt also;
Thi wykitneß thus haith the maid alon,
That of this erth thi fortone Is y-goñ.
Yow mone thi lyf, yow mone thi vorschip tyne,
And eft to deth that neuer shal haf fyne.”
“Maister,” quod he, “of yowre beneuolens,
Y yow besech that tueching myn offens,
Ȝhe wald wichsaif your consell to me If
How I sal mend, and ek her-eftir leif.”
“Now,” quod the maister, “and I have merwell qwhy
Yow askith consail, and wil in non affy,
Nor wyrk thar-by; and ȝhit yow may In tym,
If yow lykith to amend the cryme.”
“Ȝhis,” saith the king, “and suthfastly I will
Ȝour ordynans in euery thing fulfyll.”
“And if the list at consail to abide,
The remed of thi harme to prouyde--
First, the begyning is of sapiens,
To dreid the lord and his magnificens;
And what thow haith in contrar hyme ofendit,
Whill yow haith mycht, of fre desir amend it;
Repent thi gilt, repent thi gret trespaß,
And remembir one goddis richwysneß;
How for to hyme that wykitneß anoyt,
And how the way of synaris he distroit;
And if ye lyk to ryng wnder his peß,
Ye wengans of his mychty hond yow seß,
This schalt yow do, if yow wil be perfit.
First, mone yow be penitent and contrit
Of euery thing that tuechith thi consiens,
Done of fre will, or ȝhit of neglygens.
Thi neid requirith ful contretioune,
Princepaly with-out conclusioune;
With humble hart and gostly bysyneß,
Syne shalt yow go deuotly the confeß
Ther-of vnto sum haly confessour,
That the wil consail tueching thin arour;
And to fulfill his will and ordynans,
In satisfaccione and doing of penans,
And to amend al wrang and al Iniure,
By the ydone til euery Creature;
If yow can In to thi hart fynde,
Contretioune well degest In to thi mynd.
Now go thi weie, for if it leful were,
Confessioune to me, I shuld It here.”
Than arthur, Richt obedient and mek,
In to his wit memoratyvecan seik
Of euery gilt wich that he can pens,
Done frome he passith the ȝeris of Innocens;
And as his maister hyme commandit hade,
He goith and his confessione haith he maad
Richt deuotly with lementable chere;
The maner wich quho lykith for to here
He may It fynd In to the holl romans,
Of confessione o pasing cercumstans.
I can It not, I am no confessour,
My wyt haith ewill consat of that labour,
Quharof I wot I aucht repent me sore.
The king wich was confessit, what is more,
Goith and til his maister tellith hee,
How euery syne In to his awn degree
He shew, that mycht occuryng to his mynde.
“Now,” quod the maistere, “left thow aght behynde
Of albenak the vorschipful king ban,
The wich that vas in to my seruice slan,
And of his wif disherist eft also?
Bot of ther sone, the wich was them fro,
Ne spek y not;”--the king in his entent
Abasyt was, and furthwith is he went
Aȝane, and to his confessour declarith;
Syne to his maister he ayane Reparith,
To quhome he saith, “I aftir my cunyng
Your ordinans fulfillit in al thing;
And now right hartly y beseich and prey,
Ȝhe wald withschaif sum thing to me say,
That may me comfort in my gret dreid,
And how my men ar falȝet in my Neid,
And of my dreme, the wich that is so dirk.”
This maister saith, “and thow art bound to virk
AT my consail, and if yow has maad
Thi confessione, as yow before hath said,
And in thi conciens thinkith perseuere,
As I presume that thow onon shalt here
That god hyme-self shal so for y^e prouide,
Thow shal Remayne and In thi Ring abyd.
And why thi men ar falȝet At this nede,
At short this is the cauß, shalt yow nocht dred,
Fore thow to gode was frawart and perwert;
Thi ryngne and the he thocht for to subwart;
And yow sal knaw na power may recist,
In contrar quhat god lykith to assi[s]t.
The vertw nore the strenth of victory
It cummyth not of man, bot anerly
Of hyme, the wich haith euery strinth; and than,
If that the waiis plessit hyme of man,
He shal have forß aȝane his ennemys.
A-ryght agan apone the samyne vyß,
If he displeß vn to the lord, he shall
Be to his fais a subiet or a thrall,
As that we may In to the bible red,
Tueching the folk he tuk hyme-self to led
In to the lond, the wich he them byhicht.
Ay when thei ȝhed in to his ways Richt,
Ther fois gon befor there suerd to nocht;
And when that thei ayanis hyme hath vrocht,
Thei war so full of radur and disspare,
That of o leif fleing in the air,
The sound of It haith gart o thousand tak
At onys apone them-self the bak,
And al ther manhed vterly foryhet;
Sich dreid the lord apone ther hartis set.
So shalt yow know no powar may withstond,
Ther god hyme-self hath ton the cauß on hond.
And ye quhy stant in thyne awn offens,
That al thi puple falȝhet off defens.
And sum ar falȝeing magre ther entent;
Thei ar to quhom thow yewyne hath thi rent,
Thi gret Reuard, thi richeß and thi gold,
And cherissith and held in thi houshold.
Bot the most part ar falȝheit the at wyll,
To quhome yow haith wnkyndneß schawin till;
Wrong and inIure, and ek defalt of law,
And pwnysing of qwhich that thei stand aw;
And makith seruice but reward or fee,
Syne haith no thonk bot fremmytneß of the.
Such folk to the cummyth bot for dred,
Not of fre hart the for to help at nede.
And what awalith owthir sheld or sper,
Or horß or armoure according for ye were,
Vith-outen man them for to stere and led?
And man, yow wot, that vantith hart is ded,
That in to armys seruith he of noght;
A cowart oft ful mekil harm haith vroght.
In multitude nore ȝhit in confluens
Of sich, is nowther manhed nore defens.
And so thow hath the rewlyt, that almost
Of al thi puple the hartis ben ylost;
And tynt richt throw thyne awn mysgouernans
Of auerice and of thyne errogans.
What is o prince? quhat is o gouernoure
Withouten fame of worschip and honour?
What is his mycht, suppos he be A lorde,
If that his folk sal nocht to hyme accorde?
May he his Rigne, may he his holl Empire
Susten al only of his owne desyre,
In serwyng of his wrechit appetit
Of awerice and of his awn delyt,
And hald his men, wncherist, in thraldome?
Nay! that shal sone his hie estat consome.
For many o knycht therby is broght ydoune,
All vtraly to ther confusioune;
For oft it makith vther kingis by
To wer on them In trast of victory;
And oft als throw his peple is distroyth,
That fyndith them agrewit or anoyth;
And god also oft with his awn swerd,
Punysith ther wysis one this erd.
Thus falith not o king but gouernans,
Boith realme and he goith one to myschans.”
AS thai war thus speking of this thinge,
Frome galiot cam two knychtis to the king;
That one the king of hundereth knychtis was;
That other to nome the fyrst-conquest king has,
At first that galyot conquerit of one.
The nerest way one to the king thei gon,
And vp he roß, as he that wel couth do
Honor, to quhome that It afferith to;
And ȝhit he wist not at thei kingis were;
So them thei boith and vyth rycht knyghtly cher
Reuerendly thei salust hyme, and thane
The king of hunder knyghtis he began
And said hyme, “sir, to ȝow my lord ws sende,
Galiot, whilk bad ws say he wende,
That of this world the vorthiest king wor ȝhe,
Gretest of men and of awtoritee.
Wharof he has gret wonder that ȝhe ar
So feble cummyne In to his contrare,
For to defend your cuntre and your londe,
And knowith well ȝhe may hyme nocht withstonde.
Wharfor he thinkith no worschip to conquere,
Nore in the weris more to persyuere;
Considdir yowr wakneß and yowr Indegens,
Aȝanis hyme as now to mak defens.
Wharfore, my lord haith grantit by vs here
Trewis to yhow and resput for o ȝhere,
If that yhow lykith by the ȝheris space
For to retwrn ayane In to this place,
Her to manteine yhour cuntre and withstond
Hyme with the holl power of yhour lond.
And for the tyme the trewis shal endure,
Yhour cuntre and yhour lond he will assurre;
And wit ȝhe ȝhit his powar is nocht here.
And als he bad ws say yhow by the yhere,
The gud knycht wich that the Red armys bure
And in the feild maid the discumfiture,
The whilk the flour of knychthed may be cold,
He thinkith hyme to haue of his houshold.”
“Well,” quod the king, “I have hard quhat yhe say,
But if god will, and ek if that I may,
In to sich wyß I think for to withstond,
Yhour lord shall have no powar of my londe.”
Of this mesag the king Reiosing haß,
And of the trewis wich that grantit was,
Bot anoyt ȝhit of the knycht was he,
Wich thei awant to have in such dogre.
Ther leif thei tuk; and when at thei war gon,
This maister saith, “how lykith god dispone!
Now may yhow se and suth is my recorde;
For by hyme now is makith this accord;
And by non vthir worldly providens,
Sauf only grant of his bynewolans,
To se if that the lykith to amend,
And to prouid thi cuntre to defend.
Wharfor yow shalt in to thi lond home fair,
And gowerne the as that I shall declaire.
First, thi god with humble hart yow serfe,
And his comand at al thi mycht obserf;
And syne, lat paß the ilk blessit wonde
Of lowe with mercy Iustly throw thi londe;
And y beseich--to quhome yow sal direke
The rewle vpone, the wrangis to correk--
That yow be nocht in thi electioune blynde;
For writin It Is and yow sal trew It fynde.
That, be thei for to thonk or ellis blame,
And towart god thi part shal be the sam̅;
Of Ignorans shalt yow nocht be excusit,
Bot in ther werkis sorly be accusit,
For thow shuld euer cheß apone sich wyß
The ministeris that rewll haith of Iustice:--
First, that he be descret til wnderstond
And lowe and ek the mater of the londe;
And be of mycht and ek Autoritee,
(For puple ay contempnith low degre,)
And that of trouth he folow furth the way;
That is als mych as he louyth trewth alway,
And haitith al them the wich sal pas therfro.
Syne, that he god dreid and lowe al-so.
Of auerice be-war with the desyre,
And of hyme full of hastynes and fyre;
Be-war thar-for of malice and desire,
And hyme also that lowith no medyre;
For al this abhominable was hold,
When Iustice was in to the tymis olde.
For qwho that is of an of thir by-know,
The lest of them subuertith all the low,
And makith It w[n]Iustly to procede;
Eschew tharfor, for this sal be thi meid
Apone the day when al thing goith aright,
Whar none excuß hidyng schal ye lyght;
But he the Iug, that no man may susspek,
Euery thing ful Iustly sal correk.
Be-war thar-with, as before have I told,
And cheß them wysly that thi low shal hold.
And als I will that it well oft be sen,
Richt to thi-self how thei thi low conten;
And how the Right, and how the dom is went,
For to Inquer that yow be delygent.
And punyß for, for o thing shal yow know,
The most trespas is to subuert the low,
So that yow be not in thar gilt accusit,
And frome the froit of blissit folk refusit.
And pas yow shalt to euery chef toune,
Throw-out the boundis of thi Regioune
Whar yow sall be, that Iustice be Elyk
With-out diuisione baith to pur and ryk.
And that thi puple have [ane] awdiens
With thar complantis, and also thi presens;
For qwho his eris frome the puple stekith,
And not his hond in ther support furth rekith,
His dom sall be ful grewous & ful hard,
When he sal cry and he sal nocht be hard.
Wharfor thyne eris ifith to the pwre,
Bot in redreß of ned, & not of inIure;
Thus sall thei don of Ressone & knawlag.
But kingis when thei ben of tender ag,
Y wil not say I trast thei ben excusit,
Bot schortly thei sall be sar accusit,
When so thei cum to yheris of Resone,
If thei tak not full contrisioune,
And pwnyß them that hath ther low mysgyit.
That this is trouth it may not be denyit;
For vther ways thei sal them not discharg,
[Excep thei pwnyß them that have the charg]
One estatis of ther realm, that shold
With-in his ȝouth se that his low be hold.
And thus thow the, with mercy, kep alway
Of Iustice furth the ilk blessit way.
And of thi wordis beis trew and stable,
Spek not to mych, nore be not vareable.