Book II (continued), lines 1673–2070

O kingis word shuld be o kingis bonde,
And said It is, a kingis word shuld stond;
O kingis word, among our faderis old,
Al-out more precious & more sur was hold
Than was the oth or seel of any wight;
O king of trouth suld be the werray lyght,
So treuth and Iustice to o king accordyth.
And als, as thir clerkis old recordith,
In tyme is larges and humilitee
Right well according vnto hie dugre,
And plessith boith to god and man al-so;
Wharfor I wil, incontinent thow go,
And of thi lond in euery part abide,
Whar yow gar fet and clep one euery sid
Out of thi cuntreis, and ek out of thi tovnis,
Thi dukis, erlis, and thi gret baronis,
Thi pur knychtis, and thi bach[e]leris,
And them resauf als hartly as afferis,
And be them-self yow welcum them ilkon:
Syne, them to glaid and cheris, thee dispone
With festing and with humyll contynans.
Be not pensyve, nore proud in arrogans,
Bot with them hold in gladnes cumpany;
Not with the Rich nor myghty anerly,
Bot with the pure worthi man also,
With them thow sit, with them yow ryd and go.
I say not to be our fameliar,
For, as the most philosephur can duclar,
To mych to oyß familiaritee
Contempnyng bryngith one to hie dugre;
Bot cherice them with wordis fair depaynt,
So with thi pupelle sal yow the aquaynt.
Than of ilk cuntre wysly yow enquere
An agit knycht to be thi consulere,
That haith ben hold in armys Richt famus,
Wyß and discret, & no thing Inwyus;
For there is non that knowith so wel, I-wyß,
O worthy man as he that worthi Is.
When well long haith yow swiornyt in a place,
And well acqueynt the vith thi puple has,
Than shalt thow ordand & prowid the
Of horß and ek of armour gret plente;
Of gold, and siluer, tressore, and cleithing,
And euery Riches that longith to o king;
And when the lykith for to tak thi leif,
By largeß thus yow thi reward geif,
First to the pure worthy honorable,
That is til armys and til manhed able;
(Set he be pur, ȝhit worschip in hyme bidith);
If hyme the horß one wich thi-selwyne Ridith,
And bid hyme that he Rid hyme for yhour sak;
Syne til hyme gold and siluer yow betak;
The horß to hyme for worschip and prowes,
The tresor for his fredome and larges.
If most of Riches and of Cherising;
Eftir this gud knycht berith vitnesing.
Syne to thi tennandis & to thi wawasouris
If essy haknays, palfrais, and cursouris,
And robis sich as plesand ben and fair;
Syne to thi lordis, wich at mychty aire,
As dukis, erlis, princis, and ek kingis,
Yow if them strang, yow if them vncouth thingis,
As diuerß iowellis, and ek preciouß stonis,
Or halkis, hundis, ordinit for the nonis,
Or wantone horß that can nocht stand in stāble;
Thar giftis mot be fair and delitable.
Thus, first vn to the vorthi pur yow if
Giftis, that may ther pouerte Releif;
And to the rich iftis of plesans,
That thei be fair, set nocht of gret substans;
For riches askith no thing bot delyt,
And powert haith ay ane appetyt
For to support ther ned and Indigens:
Thus shall yow if and makith thi dispens.
And ek the quen, my lady, shalt also
To madenis and to ladeis, quhar ȝhe go,
If, and cheriß one the samyne wyß;
For in to largeß al thi welfar lyis.
And if thy giftis with sich continans
That thei be sen ay gifyne vith plesans;
The wyß man sais, and suth it is approuit,
Thar is no thonk, thar is no ift alowit,
Bot It be ifyne In to sich manere,
(That is to say, als glaid in to his chere),
As he the wich the ift of hyme Resauith;
And do he not, the gifar is dissauith.
For who that iffis, as he not if wald,
Mor profit war his ift for to with-hald;
His thonk he tynith, and his ift also.
Bot that thow ifith, if with boith two,
That is to say, vith hart and hand atonis;
And so the wysman ay ye ift disponis.
Beith larg and iffis frely of thi thing;
For largeß is the tresour of o king,
And not this other Iowellis nor this gold
That is in to thi tresory with-holde.
Who gladly iffith, be vertew of larges
His tresory encresis of Richesß,
And sal aȝañe the mor al-out resawe.
For he to quhome he ȝewith sall hawe,
First his body, syne his hart with two,
His gudis al for to dispone also
In his seruice; and mor atour he shall
Have O thing, and that is best of all;
That is to say, the worschip and the loß
That vpone larges in this world furth goß.
And yow shal knaw the lawbour & the preß
In to this erth about the gret Richeß.
Is ony, bot apone the cauß we see
Of met, of cloth, & of prosperitee?
All the remanant stant apone the name
Of purches, furth apone this worldis fame.
And well yow wot, in thyne allegians
Ful many Is, the wich haith sufficians
Of euery thing that longith to ther ned;
What haith yow more, qwich [haith] them al to lede,
For al thi Realmys and thi gret Riches,
If that yow lak of worschip the encreß?
Well leß, al-out; for efter thar estate
Thei have vorschip, and kepith It al-gat;
And yow degradith al thyne hie dugree,
That so schuld shyne In to nobelitee,
Throuch wys and throw the wrechitneß of hart.
And knowis yow not what sall be thi part,
Out of this world when yow sal paß the courß?
Fair well, I-wyß! yow neuer shall Recourß
Whar no prince more shall the subiet have,
But be als dep in to the erd y-grave,
Sauf vertew only and worschip wich abidith;
With them the world apone the laif dewidith;
And if he, wich shal eftir the succed,
By larges spend, of quhich that yhow had dreid,
He of the world comendit is and prisit,
And yow stant furth of euery thing dispisit;
The puple saith and demyth thus of thee,
“Now is he gone, a werray vrech was hee,
And he the wich that is our king and lord
Boith wertew haith & larges in accorde;
Welcum be he!” and so the puple soundith.
Thus through thi viß his wertew mor aboundith,
And his vertew the more thi wice furth schawith.
Wharfor ȝhe, wich that princes ben y-knawith,
Lat not yhour vrechit hart so yhow dant,
That he that cummyth next yhow may awant
To be mor larg, nore more to be commendit;
Best kepit Is the Riches well dispendit.
O ȝhe, the wich that kingis ben, fore sham
Remembrith yhow, this world hath bot o naam̅
Of good or ewill, efter ȝhe ar gone!
And wysly tharfor chessith yhow the toñ
Wich most accordith to nobilitee,
And knytith larges to yhour hie degre.
For qwhar that fredome In O prince Ringnis,
It bryngith In the victory of kingis,
And makith realmys and puple boith to dout,
And subectis of the cuntre al about.
And qwho that thinkith ben o conquerour,
Suppos his largeß sumquhat pas mysour,
Ne rak he nat, bot frely iffith ay;
And as he wynyth, beis var al-way
To mych nor ȝhit to gredy that he hold,
Wich sal the hartis of the puple colde.
And low and radour cummyth boith two
Of larges; Reid and ȝhe sal fynd It so.
Alexander this lord the warld that wan,
First with the suerd of larges he began,
And as he wynith ifith largely,
He rakith No thing bot of cheuelry;
Wharfor of hyme so passith the Renown,
That many o cetee, and many o strang towñ
Of his worschip that herith the Recorde,
Dissirith so to haveing sich o lorde;
And offerith them with-outen strok of spere,
Suppos that thei war manly men of were,
But only for his gentilleß that thei
Have hard; and so he louit was al-way
For his larges, humilitee, and manhed,
With his awn folk, that neuermore, we Reid,
For al his weris nor his gret trawell,
In al his tym that thei hyme onys faill;
Bot in his worschip al thar besynes
Thei set, and lewith in to no distres;
Whar-throw the suerd of victory he berith.
And many prince full oft the palm werith,
As has ben hard, by largeß, of before,
In conqueringe of Rignis & of glore.
And wrechitnes Richt so, in the contrar,
Haith Realmys maid ful desolat & bare,
And kingis broght doun from ful hie estat;
And who that Red ther old bukis, wat
The vicis lef, the wertew have in mynde,
And takith larges In his awn kynd;
A-myd standing of the vicis two,
Prodegalitee and awerice also.
Wharfor her-of It nedith not to more,
So mych ther-of haith clerkis vrit to-fore.
Bot who the wertw of larges & the law
Sal cheß, mot ned considir well & knaw
In to hyme-self, and thir thre wnderstande,
The substans first, the powar of his land,
Whome to he iffith, and the cauß wharfore,
The nedful tyme awatith euermore.
Kepith thir thre; for qwho that sal exced
His rent, he fallith sodandly in nede.
And so the king, that on to myster drowis,
His subiettis and his puple he our-thrawis,
And them dispolȝeith boith of lond and Rent;
So is the king, so is the puple schent.
For-quhi the woice It scrik[i]th vp ful ewyne
With-out abaid, and passith to the hewyne,
Whar god hyme-self resauith ther the crye
Of the oppresioune and the teranny,
And vith the suerd of wengans doun y-smytith,
The wich that caruith al to sor, and bitith,
And hyme distroyth, as has ben hard or this
Of euery king that wirkith sich o mys.
For ther is few eschapith them, It sall
Boith vpone hyme & his successione fall;
For he forsuth haith ifyne hyme the wond
To Iustefy and Reull in pece his lond,
The puple all submytit to his cure;
And he aȝan one to no creatur
Save only shall vn to his gode obey.
And if he passith so far out of the wey,
Them to oppreß, that he shuld reul & gid,
Ther heritag, there gwdis to dewide,
Ye, wnder whome that he most nedis stond,
At correccioune sal strek his mychty hond,
Not euery day, bot shal at onys fall
On hyme, mayhap, and his succescione all.
In this, allace! the blyndis of the kingis,
And Is the fall of princis and of Rygnis.
The most wertew, the gret Intellegens,
The blessit tokyne of wysdom and prudens
Isß, in o king, for to restren his honde
Frome his pupleis Riches & ther lond.
Mot euery king have this wice in mynd
In tyme, and not when that he ned fynde!
And in thi larges beith war, I pray,
Of nedful tyme, for than is best alway.
Awyß the ek quhome to that thow salt if,
Of there fam, and ek how that thei leif;
And of the wertws and wicious folk also,
I the beseich dewidith well thir two,
So that thei stond nocht in[to] o degree;
Discreccioune sall mak the diuersitee,
Wich clepith the moder of al vertewis.
And beith war, I the beseich of this,
That is to say of flatry, wich that longith
To court, and al the kingis larges fongith.
The vertuouß man no thing thar-of resauith,
The flattereris now so the king dissauith
And blyndith them that wot no thing, I-wyß,
When thei do well, or quhen thei do o myß;
And latith kingis oft til wnderstonde
Thar vicis, and ek ye faltis of ther lond.
In to the realme about o king Is holde
O flatterere were than is the stormys cold,
Or pestelens, and mor the realme anoyith;
For he the law and puple boith distroyith.
And in to principall ben ther three thingis,
That caussith flattereris stonding with the kingis;
And on, It is the blyndit Ignorans
Of kingis, wich that hath no gouernans
To wnderstond who doith sich o myß;
But who that farest schewith hym, I-wyß,
Most suffisith and best to his plesans.
Wo to the realme that havith sich o chans!
And secundly, quhar that o king Is
Weciuß hyme-self, he cherissith, ywys,
Al them the wich that one to vicis soundith,
Whar-throw that vicis and flattery ek aboundith.
The thrid, is the ilk schrewit harrmful wice,
Wich makith o king within hyme-self so nyce,
That al thar flattry and ther gilt he knowith
In to his wit, and ȝhit he hyme with-drowith
Them to repref, and of ther vicis he wot;
And this It is wich that dissemblyng hot,
That in no way accordith for o king.
Is he not set abuf apone his Ringne,
As souerane his puple for to lede?
Whi schuld he spare, or quhom of schuld he dred
To say the treuth, as he of Right is hold?
And if so ware that al the kingis wold,
When that his legis comytit ony wyce,
As beith not to schamful, nore to nyce,
That thei presume that he is negligent,
But als far as he thinkith that thei myß-went,
But dissemblyng reprewith as afferis;
And pwnice them quhar pwnysing Requeris,
Sauf only mercy in the tyme of ned.
And so o king he schuld his puple led,
That no trespaß, that cummyth in his way,
Shuld paß his hond wne-pwnist away;
Nore no good deid in to the samyn degree,
Nore no wertew, suld wn-Reuardid bee.
Than flattry shuld, that now is he, be low,
And wice from the kingis court with-drow;
His ministeris that shuld the Iustice reull,
Shuld kep well furth of quiet & reull,
That now, god wat, as It conserwit Is,
The stere is lost, and al is gon amys;
And vertew shuld hame to the court hyme dreß,
That exillith goith in to the wildernes.
Thus if o king stud lyk his awn degree,
Wertwis and wyß than shuld his puple bee,
Only set by vertew hyme to pleß,
And sore adred his wisdom to displeß.
And if that he towart the vicis draw,
His folk sall go on to that ilk law;
What shal hyme pleß that wil nocht ellis fynd,
Bot ther-apon setith al ther mynde.
Thus only in the wertew of o king
The reull stant of his puple & his ringne,
If he be wyß and, but dissemblyng, schewis,
As I have said, the vicis one to schrewis.
And so thus, sir, It stant apone thi will
For to omend thi puple, or to spill;
Or have thi court of vertewis folk, or fullis;
Sen yow art holl maister of the scoullis
Teichith them, and thei sal gladly leir,
That is to say, that thei may no thing heir
Sauf only wertew towart thyn estat;
And cheriß them that wertews ben algait.
And thinkith what that wertew is to thee;
It plessith god, vphaldith thi degree.”
“Maister,” quod he, “me think rycht profitable
Yowr conseell Is, and wonder honorable
For me, and good; rycht well I have consauit,
And in myne hartis Inwartneß resauit.
I shal fulfill and do yowr ordynans
Als far of wit as I have suffisans;
Bot y beseich yow, in til hartly wyß,
That of my drem ȝhe so to me dewyß,
The wich so long haith occupeid my mynd,
How that I shal no maner sucour fynd
Bot only throw the wattir lyon, & syne
The leich that is withouten medysyne;
And of the consell of the flour; wich ayre
Wonderis lyk that no man can duclar.”
“Now, sir,” quod he, “and I of them al thre,
What thei betakyne shal I schaw to the,
Such as the clerkis at them specifiit;
Thei vsit no thing what thei signefiit.
The wattir lyone Is the god werray,
God to the lyone is lyknyt many way;
But thei have hyme In to the wattir señ,
Confusit were ther wittis al, y weñ;
The wattir was ther awn fragelitee,
And thar trespas, and thar Inequitee
In to this world, the wich thei stond y-closit;
That was the wattir wich thei have supposit,
That haith there knowlag maad so Inperfyt;
Thar syne & ek ther worldis gret delyt,
As clowdy wattir, was euermore betweñ,
That thei the lyone perfitly hath nocht señ;
Bot as the wattir, wich was yer awn synne,
That euermor thei stond confusit In.
If thei haith stond in to religioñ clen,
Thei had the lyone Not in watter sen,
Bot clerly vp in to the hewyne abuf,
Eternaly whar he shal not remufe.
And euermore in vatter of syne vas hee,
For-quhi It is Imposseble for to bee;
And thus the world, wich that thei ar In,
Y-closit Is in dyrknes of ther syne;
And ek the thikneß of the air betwen
The lyone mad in vattir to be sen.
For It was nocht bot strenth of ther clergy
Wich thei have here, and It is bot erthly,
That makith them there resouns dewyß,
And se the lyone thus in erthly wyß.
This is the lyone, god, and goddis sone,
Ihesu crist, wich ay in hewyne sal wonne.
For as the lyone of euery best is king,
So is he lord and maister of al thing,
That of the blessit vyrgyne vas y-bore.
Ful many a natur the lyone haith, quhar-fore
That he to god resemblyt is, bot I
Lyk not mo at this tyme specify.
This is the lyone, thar-of have yow no dred,
That shal the help and comfort In thi ned.
The sentens here now woll I the defyne
Of hyme, the lech withouten medysyne,
Wich is the god that euery thing hath vroght.
For yow may know that vther Is It noght,
As surgynis and fesicianis, wich that delith
With mortell thingis, and mortell thingis helyth,
And al thar art is in to medysyne,
As it is ordanit be the mycht dewyne,
As plasteris, drinkis, and anouyntmentis seir,
And of the qualyte watyng of the yher;
And of the planetis disposicioune,
And of the naturis of compleccyoune,
And in the diuerß changing of hwmowris.
Thus wnder reull lyith al there cwris;
And yhit thei far as blynd man In the way,
Oft quhen that deith thar craft list to assay.