fol. 127r 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 fol. 127v 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 fol. 128r 126 130 135 140 145 150 155 160 165 170 175 180 fol. 128v 185 190 195 200 205 210 215 220 225 230 235 240 245 250 fol. 129r 255 260 265 270 275 280 285 290 295 300 305 310 315 320 fol. 129v 325 330 335 340 345 350 355 360 365 370 375 fol. 130r 380 385 390 395 400 405 410 415 420 425 430 435 440 445 450 455 fol. 130v 460 465 470 475 480 485 490 495 500 505 510 fol. 131r 515 520 525 530 535 540 545 550 555 560 565 570 575 580 fol. 131v 585 590 595 600 605 610 615 620 625 630 635 640 645 fol. 132r 650 655 660 665 670 675 680 685 690 695 700 705 710 715 720 725 fol. 132v 730 735 740 745 750 755 760 765 770 775 780 785 790 fol. 133r 796 800 805 810 815 820 825 830 835 840 845 850 855 860 865 870 fol. 133v 876 880 885 890 895 900 905 910 915 920 925 930 935 940 945 950 fol. 134r 956 960 965 970 975 980 985 990 995 1000 1005 1010 1015 1020 1025 1030 fol. 134v 1036 1040 1045 1050 1055 1060 1065 1070 1075 1080 1085 fol. 135r 1090 1095 1100 1105 1110 1115 1120 1125 1130 1135 1140 1145 1150 1155 fol. 135v 1160 1165 1170 1175 1180 1185 1190 1195 1200 1205 1210 fol. 136r 1215 1220 1225 1230 1235 1240 1245 1250 1255 1260 1265 1270 1275 1280 fol. 136v 1285 1290 1295 1300 1305 1310 1315 1320 1325 1330 1335 1340 1345 1350 1355 1360 fol. 137r 1365 1370 1375 1380 1385 1390 1395 1400 1405 1410 1415 1420 1425 fol. 137v 1430 1435 1440 1445 1450 1455 1460 1465 1470 1475 1480 1485 1490 1495 1500 1505 fol. 138r 1510 1515 1520 1525 1530 1535 1540 1545 1550 1555 1560 1565 1570 1575 1580 1585 fol. 138v 1590 1595 1600 1605 1610 1615 1620 1625 1630 1635 1640 1645 1650 1655 1660 1665 fol. 139r 1670 1675 1680 1685 1690 1695 1700 1705 1710 1715 1720 1725 1730 1735 1740 1745 fol. 139v 1750 1755 1760 1765 1770 1775 1780 1785 1790 1795 1800 1805 1810 1815 1820 1825 fol. 140r 1830 1835 1840 1845 1850 1855 1860 1865 1870 1875 1880 1885 1890 1895 1900 1905 fol. 140v 1910 1915 1920 1925 1930 1935 1940 1945 1950 1955 1960 1965 1970 1975 1980 1985 fol. 141r 1990 1995 2000 2005 2010 2015 2020 2025 2030 2035 2040 2045 2050 2055 2060 2065 fol. 141v 2070 2075 2080 2085 2090 2095 2100 2105 2110 2115 2120 2125 2130 2135 2140 2145 fol. 142r 2150 2155 2160 2165 2170 2175 2180 2185 2190 2195 2200 2205 2210 2215 2220 2225 fol. 142v 2230 2235 2240 2245 2250 2255 2260 2265 2270 2275 2280 2285 2290 fol. 143r 2296 2300 2305 2310 2315 2320 2325 2330 2335 2340 2345 2350 2355 2360 2365 2370 fol. 143v 2376 2380 2385 2390 2395 2400 2405 2410 2415 2420 2425 2430 2435 2440 2445 2450 fol. 144r 2456 2460 2465 2470 2475 2480 2485 2490 2495 2500 2505 2510 2515 2520 fol. 144v 2525 2530 2535 2540 2545 2550 2555 2560 2565 2570 2575 2580 2585 2590 fol. 145r 2595 2600 2605 2610 2615 2620 2625 2630 2635 2640 2645 2650 2655 fol. 145v 2660 2665 2670 2675 2680 2685 2690 2695 2700 2705 2710 2715 2720 2725 fol. 146r 2730 2735 2740 2745 2750 2755 2760 2765 2770 2775 2780 2785 2790 2795 2800 2805 fol. 146v 2810 2815 2820 2825 2830 2835 2840 2845 2850 2855 2860 2865 2870 2875 2880 2885 fol. 147r 2890 2895 2900 2905 2910 2915 2920 2925 2930 2935 2940 2945 2950 2955 2960 2965 fol. 147v 2970 2975 2980 2985 2990 2995 3000 3005 3010 3015 3020 3025 3030 3035 3040 3045 fol. 148r 3050 3055 3060 3065 3070 3075 3080 3085 3090 3095 3100 3105 3110 3115 3120 3125 fol. 148v 3130 3135 3140 3145 3150 3155 3160 3165 3170 3175 3180 3185 3190 3195 3200 3205 fol. 149r 3210 3215 3220 3225 3230 3235 3240 3245 3250 3255 3260 3265 3270 3275 3280 3285 fol. 149v 3290 3295 3300 3305 3310 3315 3320 3325 3330 3335 3340 3345 3350 3355 3360 3365 fol. 150r 3370 3375 3380 3385 3390 3395 3400 3405 3410 3415 3420 3425 3430 3435 3440 3445 fol. 150v 3450 3455 3460 3465 3470 3475 3480 3485 3490 3495 3500 3505 3510 3515 3520 3525 fol. 151r 3530 3535 3540 3545 3550 3555 3560 3565 3570 3575 3580 3585 3590 3595 3600 3605 fol. 151v 3610 3615 3620 3625 3630 3635 3640 3645 3650 3655 3660 3665 3670 3675 3680 3685 fol. 152r 3690 3695 3700 3705 3710 3715 3720 3725 3730 3735 3740 3745 3750 3755 3760 3765 fol. 152v 3770 3775 3780 3785 3790 3795 3800 3805 3810 3815 3820 3825 3830 3835 3840 3845 fol. 153r 3850 3855 3860 3865 3870 3875 3880 3885 3890 3895 3900 3905 3910 3915 3920 3925 fol. 153v 3930 3935 3940 3945 3950 3955 3960 3965 3970 3975 3980 3985 3990 3995 4000

Amis, a toy donner confort Ay meintes fois pensé m'lt fort, Et Diex scet que je le feroie, Plus que ne di, se je pouoie, De tres bon cuer et volentiers. Mais il n’est voie ne sentiers Qui mon oueil peüst avoier Que vers toy peüsse envoier. Nompourquant je commenceray Et, se Diex plaist, je fineray, Comment que soies assez sages Pour toy garder sans mes messages Et sans mes confors recevoir. Mais je le fais sans decevoir Pour t’amour et la ramembrance Que j’ay toudis de ta grevence. Et par ma foy, quant a ton fait, Je croy que tu n’as riens meffait, Si t’en dois a Dieu conforter Et tes meschiés plus biau porter. Sire, et se je t’apelle amy, N’en aies pieur cuer a my; Car bien scez que tu yes mes sires, Et je des mieudres ne des pires Ne suis, mais sans riens retenir Sui tiens, quoy qu’il doie avenir. N’encor pas nommer ne te vueil, Ne moy aussi jusqu’a mon vueil, Car je vueil mettre nos .ij. nons Si proprement que feme ne homs N’i porra riens oster ne mettre Que une sillabe et une lettre. Mais on n’i puet riens adjouster, Et pour ce les couvient oster. Si osteras premierement Une sillabe entierement Au commencier dou ver onsieme Et une lettre dou disieme Pres de la fin; la les saras Quant .i. petit y museras. Einsi les met, se Diex m’aïe, Seulement pour la muserie. Et sces tu quant on les sara? “Quant ma dame chevauchera.” Si que amis, sans riens controuver, Par exemples te vueil prouver, Qui sont contenu en la Bible Et qui sont a nous impossible, Qu’adés cils qui en Dieu se fie, S’il a raison de sa partie Et s’il l’aimme, sert, et honneure, Adés son fait vient au desseure. Or commencerai ma matere En suppliant Dieu nostre pere Qu’il soit a mon commancement, Au moien, et au finement. Cils qui tout scet et qui tout voit, Q’tout gouverne et tout pourvoit, Q’ciel et air et terre et mer, Et quanqu’on scet dedens nommer, Tout ce qui est, fu, et sera, Fist tout, et tout ce deffera A un terme qu’il y a mis, N’oublie onques ses bons amis, Eins les conseille et les conforte, Et joie en misere leur porte Par mainte diverse maniere, Et s’aimme d’amour si entiere Qu’onques a confort ne failli Qui donna tout son cuer a li. Prouver le vueil par l’Escripture, Qui en pluseurs lieus le figure. Jadis en Babiloinne avoit .I. homme qui maint bien savoit. De grans richesses renommés Estoit: Joachin fu nomez. Une femme ot en mariage Qui fu tres bele, bonne, et sage, Douce, courtoise, et bien aprise Et duite en la loy de Moÿse. Susenne avoit a non la dame, Qui Dieu doubta de cuer et d’ame. Joachim avoit un vergier Lés sa maison, qu’onques bergier Ne fist, car trop fu delitables, Et a tous fruis de delit ables. Pour ce a grans tourbes y aloient Li Juïf et s’i esbatoient. En celle annee establi furent .IJ. juge ancien qui se deçurent Par luxure et par couvoitise, Qui maint mal engendre et atise, Des quels Nostres Sires parole, Et dit einsi en sa parole: “Des juges Babyloniens Qui furent vieus et anciens, Et gouvernoient la cité Yssue est grant iniquité.” Cils .ij. la maison frequentoient De Joachim et la faisoient Leur edit, leur commandemens, Leurs consaus et leurs jugemens. Pour ce a eaus laiens venoient Tuit cil qui jugement queroient. Quant li pueples partis s’estoit, Lors en son vergier s’esbatoit Susannë avec ces pucelles, Qui estoient gentes et belles. Si la veoient ombroier Tous les jours et esbanoier Li vieillart plein d’iniquité, Si qu’en ordure et en vilté, En ardeur, en concupiscence, Par desir, par fole plaisence Furent puis pour l’amour de li, Tant lor pleü et abelly. Lors scens et raison oublierent Et leurs yex en terre clinerent, Afin que veoir ne peüssent Le ciel et qu’en leur cuer n’eüssent Memoire dou souverain juge Qui fait tout par raison et juge; Si qu’il visoient sans sejour Que par .i. couvenable jour La peüssent seule trouver, Si qu’on ne peüst riens prouver De leur fait, ne de leur pensee. .I. jour estoit Susenne alee En vergier en tele maniere Comme elle eu estoit coustumiere, O .ij. pucelles seulement, Car en vergier secretement Pour la chaleur qui grande estoit Baingnier et laver se voloit. Si leur dist: “Alez sans targier Et cloez l’uis de ce vergier, Et m’aportez oile a mon vueil, Car laver et baingnier me vueil.” Li vieillart reponnu s’estoient Ou vergier, et la la gaitoient Que seule la peüssent prendre. Quant seule fu, sans plus attendre, Ynelement, les saus menus, En sont a Susanne venus, Et dirent: “Li vergiers est clos, N’il n’a creature en cest clos Qui nous puist veoir n’encuser, Si ne dois mie refuser A faire tout nostre plaisir, Car lieu, temps en as, et loisir. Car par ta biauté sommes pris Et de t’amour forment espris. Fay dont ce que nous requerons. Se ne le fais, nous te jurons Que de toy dirons tesmongnage Au pueple et a tout ton linage Qu’a toy gisant avons trouvé .I. jouvencel ci tout prouvé Et pour l’amour dou bacheler En feïs tes femmes aler.” Quant Susanne les entendi, S’ame et son corps a Dieu rendi; Fort pleure, gemist, fort se plaint Et dist, en gettant .i. grant plaint: “De toutes pars me tient engoisse Qui mon cuer destreint et engoisse. Se ce fais, je suis a Dieu morte, Et, se dou faire me deporte, De vos mains ne puis eschaper, Car c’est mie per a per. Mais miex me vaut en aventure Estre en vos mains, de pechié pure, Que par pechié mon Dieu offendre, S’aim mieus ceste aventure atendre.” Adont a haute vois s’escrie Susanne: “Aïe! Aïe! Aïe!” Et li faus vieillart deputaire Encontre elle prirent a braire. Mais pour ceste oueuvre descouvrir Li uns d’eaus couri l’uis ouvrir. Quant les gens de l’ostel oïrent Ceste clamour, tuit y courirent Pour savoir que ce pooit estre. Et quant li juge et li faus prestre Parlerent, chascuns s’esmerveille Et pleure de ceste merveille, Car onques mais esté parole N’avoit d’elle laide ne fole. L’andemain, devant son mari Vint li pueples a cuer mari, Et li .ij. prestre plein d’outrage, D’inique pensee, et de rage, Pour mettre Susanne a la mort Sans conscience et sans remort. Au pueple dirent li faus prestre, A droit faire esclanche ou senestre: “Envoiez nous Susanne querre, La femme Joachin!” Grant erre Fu Susanne la amenee, De tous costez avironnee De ses parens, de ses amis, A ces .ij. mortels annemis, Et aussi devant tout le pueple. Mais chascuns et chascune pueple Sa face de larmes piteuses Pour les nouveles dolereuses, Car on ne tenoit milleur dame Ou païs, ne plus preude fame. Lors li .ij. prestre se leverent Enmi le pueple et s’aünerent. Quant Susanne fu la venue, Chascun d’eaus sa main toute nue Mist sus la teste de Susanne, Qui de son cuer efface et planne Tout pechié, toute villonnie, Et en Dieu seulement se fie. Adont deïrent li faus juge Au pueple: “Ses meffais la juge; Et nous aussi la jugerons Selonc ce que nous vous dirons. Eu vergier, en la pommeroie Qui a l’ostel Joachin roie, Nous aliens l’autre jour esbatre, L’air querir, la rousee abatre. Susanne eu vergier fu venue, Qui riens ne sot de no venue; Avecques li ot .ij. pucelles Qu’elle en envoia, pour ce qu’elles Ne veïssent sa lecherie. Adont issi de la fueillie Uns jouvenciaus, qu’avons trouvé Avec li gisant tout prouvé. Quant nous veïsmes l’avoutyre, Esmeü fumes et plein d’ire, Si courismes la pour lui prendre. Mais bien se sot de nous deffendre, Car plus fors fu, si s’en fuï, Quant il nous perçut et oÿ, Par le postis. Pour ce preïsmes Susenne et moult li enquerismes Qui estoit le juene vallet. Mais ce moult petit nous valet, Car onques ne le nous volt dire. Ce meffait et cest avoutire, Si com nous l’avons recité, Vous tesmongnons en verité.” Li pueples qui la venus yere A eaus ajousta foy planiere, Car li jugë encien furent, Pour ce li pueples les creürent, Et Susanne a mort condampnerent, Qu’autrement dou fait n’enquesterent. Quant Susanne son jugement Vit, et sa mort apertement, A haute vois, sans detrier, Les mains jointes, prist a crier: “Sire Diex, qui es pardurables, Justes juges et raisonnables, Tu scez les choses reponnues, Les alees et les venues; Tu congnois des cuers les pensees, Einsois qu’elles soient pensees. Tu scez tout einsois qu’il soit fait. Tu scez que je n’ay riens meffait Et que malicieusement Ont tesmongnié et faussement Li faus juge qui m’ont jugie, Par qui le corps pers et la vie. Dous sires, qui tout scez et vois, Oy ma priere, enten ma vois, Qu’en toy est toute m’esperence, Mon cuer, m’amour, et ma fience.” Diex li peres ne voloit mie Oublier sa serve et s’amie Endurer, voloir, ne souffrir Son corps a tel martyre offrir Sans raison nulle et sans desserte; Eins fist pour li miracle aperte, Et de fait oÿ sa priere, De cuer faite et d’amour entiere. Car einsi comme on la menoit A sa mort, li pueples venoit Veoir la dure destinee De la lasse desconfortee. En la tourbe avoit une fame, Dont le nom ne say, ne la fame, Qui .i. juene enfançon portoit, Et au porter se deportoit, Qu’aler ne parler ne savoit Pour la juenesse qu’il avoit. Daniel ot nom l’enfançon, Si com tesmongne la leçon. Mais Diex li donna la puissance D’aler et de parler, scïence, Congnoissance, et entendement De prophetisier tellement Que la verité fu sceüe Des faus prestres et congneüe. Lors cria haut a sa vois clere L’enfant entre les bras sa mere, Si que li pueples et li mundes L’entendi: “Je suis purs et mundes Dou sanc de ceste creature.” A dire est, selonc l’Escripture: “Je n’ay en sa mort nulle courpe, Pour ce devant tous m’en descourpe.” Li pueples adont a li vint, Ci .i., ci .ij., ci .x., ci .xx., Et li dist: “Qu’est ce que tu dis?” Il respont: “Fols et arrudis Estes, li enfant d’Israhel Qui la fille de Helchiel Sans congnoistre la verité, Raison, justice, n’equité, Avez a la mort condampné. Retournez, car li faus dampné Sont et ont porté faus tesmong. Dieus le scet, et je le tesmong.” Adont li pueples retourna Tantost et petit sojourna. Pour miex savoir la verité, Li preudome de la cité, Quant au lieu de conseil venirent, A l’enfant doucement deïrent: “Vien sa aveques nous seoir, Car Dieus donner et pourveoir T’a volu l’onneur de vieillesse.” Daniel en mi eaus se dresse Et dist: “La verité sarez! L’un long de l’autre separez.” Et tantost on les separa. Grant honneur a ce cop ara, S’il fait que la verité pere Par la vertu de Dieu le pere. Daniel hucha l’un des juges Et dist: “Tu qui faussement juges, Envieillis yes et entichiés De mauvais jours plains de pechiés Qui devant le pueple apparront. T’ame et tes corps le comparront, Pour ce qu’as jugié faussement Maint preudomme et maint jugement. Car les innocens opprimoies Et les courpables delivroies, Et Diex dit qu’on n’ocie mie L’innocent et juste de vie. Mais di moy, quant tu la preïs, Sous quel arbre tu les veïs Parler ensamble et consillier.” Cils respont: “Dessous .i. yllier.” “Certes, tu mens parmi ta teste! Et vesci la sentence preste De l’angle de Dieu, qui par mi Copera ton corps tout par mi.” Oster le fist; l’autre appella, Et par tel guise l’aparla: “Tu qui donnes fausse sentence, Tu es issus de la semence De Chanaam, qui fu maudite Pour ce qu’en li tous maus habite. Tu n’ies pas de la bonne ligne De Juda, qui droit regle et ligne, Et qui fu de Dieu beneoite Pour ce qu’elle estoit juste et droite. Biauté t’a pris et deceü, Et concupiscence esmeü, Et ton cuer ont si retourné Qu’a tous maus faire t’ont tourné Quant a tort Susanne jugas. Mais saches que plus droit juge as. Einsi avez vous fait des filles D’Israhel, par voies soutilles Que par cremeur et par manasses Les honnissiés. Helas! Les lasses Se metoient a vos cordelles Par cremeur, non par l’acort d’elles. Mais Susanne, de Juda fille, Vostre iniquité orde et ville Ne volt soustenir ne veoir, Car miex ama estre et cheoir En vos mains et la mort attendre Que Dieu son createur offendre. Mais di sous quel arbre il estoient Quant veïs qu’ensamble parloient.” Cils respont: “Sous .i. lentillier.” “Tu mens, voir! Pour ce apparillier Voy l’angle de Dieu sans doubtance Qui tient l’espee de vengence Dont en .ij. pars te partira, Ne jamais ne se partira, Se soiez vous mors et peris En biens, en corps, en esperis.” Adont toute la compaignie Qui estoit la acompaignie A moult haute vois s’escria: “He Diex! Quel miracle ci a!” Se prirent Dieu a mercier, A loer, a glorefier, Qui biens et corps et ames garde A tous ceuls qui sont en sa garde, Et qui en li ont leur fiance, Vraie, ferme, et bonne esperence. Adont li pueples se dressa Et aus .ij. prestres s’adressa, Qui atains dou faus tesmognage Furent par Daniel le sage, Car de leur bouche le congnurent, Et pour ce a mort condampné furent, Et jugié selonc le meffait Qu’il avoient des dames fait. Einsi fu Susenne sauvee Et sans courpe a ce jour trouvee, Et tout par la vertu divine, Qui tout malice veint et mine. Dou Latin ou je l’ay veü L’ay mis si pres com j’ay peü. Si qu’amis, tu te dois mirer En cest exemple et remirer Com Susanne fu accusee Et comme elle fu delivree; N’autre remede n’i savoit Fors qu’en Dieu s’esperence avoit. Et vraiement, se t’esperence Est ferme en li, n’aies doubtance Qu’en tous cas te confortera Et que toudis te gardera. Et s’on me voloit demander, Ou supplier, ou commander, Qui fu cest enfant Daniel, Je n’en say plus, ne n’en di el Fors tant que pluseur docteur dient, Qui en l’Escripture estudient Diligemment, que ce est cil Qui, pour son corps mettre a essil, Fu mis avecques les lions, Et aussi que ce est li homs Qui maintes fois prophetisa Et qui le songe devisa Dou roy Nabugodonosor, Qui pour avoir, ne pour tresor, Ne pour riens que faire peüst N’ot qui deviser li sceüst Fors Daniel mais son propos Li dist. Pour ce a parler propos De sa vie et de sa maniere Pour continuer ma matiere. Mais ne vueil pas dire le songe Qui fu exposez sans mansonge, Car trop longue chose seroit Qui en rime le metteroit. Quant Nabugodonosor sot Tout son songe, pour .i. ort sot Tint le plus sage et le plus mestre Qui en son païs peüst estre Contre Daniel le prophete, Et long de li tous autres gette Pour Daniel qu’il aimme et prise, Et fait faire honneur et servise. Adont li rois moult honnoura Daniel et si l’aoura, Et li fist faire pour son scens Sacrefice d’oiste et d’encens. Puis dist li rois a Daniel: “Vostres Diex, li Dieus d’Israel, Est diex des diex, sires et peres Des rois, revelans les misteres Et les choses que nuls savoir, Ne puet pour scens, ne pour avoir.” Li rois riches dons li donna Et maistre et signeur l’ordonna, Et fist de toutes les provinces Sus les sages et sus les princes De son païs de Babiloine. Adont Daniel sans essoine, Pour bien et par le gré dou roy, Pour gouverner de bon arroy Les provinces y mist Sydrac, Et Abdenago, et Misac; Et Daniel faisoit demeure Avecques le roy a toute heure. Le roy Nabugodonosor Fist faire une estature d’or Qui ot .vj. queudes de largesse Et .xl. en ot de hautesse. L’estature que ci devis Fu grande de corps et de vis, Bien fu faite et bien composee. En champ de Durain fu posee Par grant mistere et grant estude. Li rois manda grant multitude Des princes et des gouverneurs De son païs, grans et meneurs. Princes, juges, dus, et tirans Furent tuit celle part tirans. La vint toute la region Pour vir la dedication De l’estature et aourer, Car nuls n’en osse demourer. Aprés fist li rois .i. edit Qui pronunça au pueple et dit: “Si tost que vous orrez sonner Nos instrumens et resonner: La trompe, le fretel, la harpe, Qui doucement fretele et harpe, La douceur de la symphonie, Et la tres douce melodie De tous les genres de musique, N’i ait celui qui ne s’aplique Pour aourer l’idole d’or. Et se vous commandons encor Que chascuns a terre s’estende Et honneur et gloire li rende. S’il y a si fol, ne si fole Qui einsi n’aoure l’idole, Nous commandons que sans atendre Il soit bruïs et ars en cendre Et gettez en l’ardant fournoise.” Quant li pueples entent et poise Le commandement et l’edit, Chascuns le fist sans contredit, Car chascuns l’ydole aoura A son pooir et honnoura. Renommee, qui partout court Et qui s’espant en mainte court, Dist a Nabugodonosor: “Rois, en ton païs a encor Pluseurs qui d’aourer n’ont cure L’idole d’or et l’estature, Et qui font contre ton decré Tout en appert, non en secré.” Il demanda qui il estoient, Et on li dist que “Ce faisoient Sidrac qu’on dit Ananias, Abdenago Azarias, Aveques Misac Misaël, Qui par Balthasar Daniel Sont sus les princes et les oeuvres De ton païs. Se ne descuevres Et mes a clarté ceste injure, Ton edit et ton estature Ne seront prisié une maille.” Li rois commanda qu’on les aille Tantost querre, et on li ameinne, Si leur dist: “Quel rage vous meinne A faire contre m’ordenence Qu’onneur faire, ne reverence Ne daingniez a l’image d’or? Briefment, se je veil ou je dor, Sarez, se vous ne l’aourez, Qu’ars, mors, bruïs, et devourez Serez tantost en l’ardant flame De la fournaise qui fort flame, N’il n’est diex qui ait tel poissance Q’de ceste mortel sentence Vous peüst garder ne deffendre.” Lors respondirent sans attendre: “Rois, nous volons bien que tu saches Que nous ne doubtons tes menaces, Toy, ne tes diex, ne ta fournaise Ardant une seule framboise, Et que tes diex n’aourons mie, Car nous avons dieu qui la vie, L’ame, et le corps nous gardera En ton feu, quant plus ardera.” Li rois fu pleins de dueil et d’ire Quant einsi s’oÿ contredire, Ses diex blasmer et desprisier Et son pooir petit prisier. Lors commanda qu’on empreïst La fournaise et qu’on y feïst Le feu plus grant qu’on ne soloit .VIJ. fois, car einsi le voloit. La fournaise fu eschaufee Et si durement enflamee Que la hautesse de la flame Quarante nuef queudes haut flame. Des plus tres fors homes qu’il ot Manda li rois et enmi l’ot Commanda les trois Juïs prendre Pour ardoir et brüir en cendre; Et si leur fist sans detrier Li piez et les jambes lier Et eaus geter dedens le fu, Qui fu tels qu’onques tels ne fu, Car pluseurs Caldez qui la furent De la flame dou feu mourent. Mais li feus qui tout art et robe N’empira le corps, ne la robe Des Juïs qui furent enmi L’ardant feu et de Dieu ami, Nés .i. seul cheveu de leur teste, Eins demenoient joie et feste Sans sentir le chaut, ne l’odour Dou feu, ne de sa grant ardour. Dedens la flame benissoient A haute vois Dieu et looient, Chascuns par lui et tous ensamble. .I. angle y avoit, ce me samble, Q’pardessus le feu ambloit Et fil de Dieu estre sambloit. Pour conforter les jouvenciaus L’avoit Dieus envoié des ceaus, Si que si bien les conforta En tel confort leur aporta Que la flame et le feu estaindre Fist tout, et la chaleur remaindre, Et d’un vent dous et convenable A tout corps humain, delitable, Plein de plaisence et de tout aise, Atempra l’angle la fournaise Par si noble condition Qu’onques n’i ot corruption. La chanterent une löange De Dieu le pere avec l’ange Qu’on claime “Benedicité.” On l’a maintes fois recité Et encor recite on souvent A matines en maint couvent. Quant la löange fu fenie, Li rois et moult grant compaingnie A la fournaise s’en alerent, Si veïrent et resgarderent .IIIJ. personnes qui estoient Sain et entier et se jouoient. Li quars, qui en milieu estoit, Angles de Dieu le pere estoit, Qu’envoié avoit et tramis Pour reconforter ses amis. N’il ne paroit coulour ne trace En la fournaise, n’en la place Dou feu, car il estoit estains Qui si mervilleus estoit ains. Quant le miracle et la merveille Vit li rois, forment s’esmerveille Si dist hautement en oÿe: “Misaël, et vous Azarie, Il n’est plus de diex vraiement Que le vostre qui telement Vous a garenti et sauvé. Venez, car vous estes sauvé.” Lors les prist et les en mena Et milleur estat leur donna Qu’il n’avoient onques heü, Einsi comme je l’ay leü Et que trouvé l’ay en escript En la Bible ou il est escript. Einsi cil qui furent livré A la mort furent delivré Par la vertu nostre signeur. Pour ce li grant et li meneur Doivent en li prendre confort, Car nuls n’a si grant desconfort, Se son cuer et s’amour li porte Et donne, qu’il ne le conforte, N’avoir ne puet homs confort tels Com d’estre de li confortés. Si qu’amis, se ton cuer li portes Et en s’amour te reconfortes, Saches qu’envers tous t’aidera, Confortera, et portera. Encor vueil .i. exemple mettre Q’est vrais, et selonc la lettre: Li rois Nabugodonosor Prist les vaissiaus et le tresor Dou temple de Jherusalem, Dont s’ame fu mise en mal an. Balthasar, ses fils, tint son regne Aprés li, qui fierement regne, Car il estoit poissans et riches, Tous autres ne prisoit .ij. miches. Balthasar une court planiere Tint .i. jour, ou mainte maniere Avoit des gens de son païs, Car c’estoit leur sires naïs, Et pour ce vinrent plus de mil. Ne furent pas païs de mil, Mais de bon vin et de viande, Selonc ce qu’apetis demande. Balthasar, pour lui deporter, Fist les vaissiaus d’or aporter Qu’en temple en Jherusalem prist Ses peres; mais trop mal l’emprist, Qu’il y buvoit, et ses roïnes, Ses femmes et ses concubines, Et grant partie de leur gent. Lors diex orent d’or et d’argent, D’arein et de pierre et de fust. N’i avoit dieu qui la ne fust Glorefiez et aourez, Servis, loëz, et honnourez. Et Diex li moustra clerement Que c’estoit a son dampnement, Qu’einsi comme au mengier seoit, Balthasar une main veoit Qui escrisoit en la paroit; Mais la main a nul n’apparoit Fors a Balthasar seulement. Et se l’Escripture ne ment Ou je l’ay veü en escript, La main en la paroit escript Ces mos: “Mane thechel pharés.” Mais se cheüs en .i. marés Fust Balthasar jusqu’au braier, Ne se peüst tant esmaier Com de la main qu’il a veü. Car puis n’a mengié ne beü, Eins li fremissent tuit li membre Toutes les fois qu’il se remembre De la main, et li corps li tramble Plus que ne fait la fueille en tramble. Si que tantost envoia querre Tous les plus sages de sa terre, Si leur dist, quant furent venu, Tout ce qui estoit avenu, Comment il vit la main escrire. Et qui sara la lettre lire Et dire l’exposition Clerement, sans deception, Ses dieus et ses deesses jure Qu’il ara riche vesteüre De pourpre: “Aprés moy et mon hoïr, De mon regne, de mon avoir Sera li tiers toute sa vie, Et ma grace ara sans partie.” Mais ni ot homme, tant fust sages, Qui sceüst lire, nés q’uns pages, La lettre, ne qui la substance Peüst dire, ne la sentence. La roïne oÿ la nouvelle, Qui ne li fu bonne ne belle. Au roy s’en vint grant aleüre, Qui pensoit fort a l’escripture, Et lors li dist moult hautement: “Bons roys, vif pardurablement! Tu ne dois mie einsi penser. Lay ton muser, lay ton penser, Car il a .i. homme en Caldee Par qui tu saras ta pensee. Il ha la scïence des diex, Si te dira dont vient tes diex Et de la main la vision Toute, et la declaration. Ce est Balthasar Daniel. Trop a le scens cler et inel, Et en la transmigration Vint estre en ceste region.” Li rois fist un commandement Qu’on l’alast querre inellement, Et l’on l’ala tantost querir Pour demander et enquerir S’il saroit sorre la demande Q’li rois enquiert et demande. Daniel vint devant le roi, Qui li dist par moult bel arroy: “Daniel, enten ma pensee; Tu es des enfans de Judee Que mes peres amena ça Quant il les prist et menassa De mort se ses diex n’aouroient Et se leur Dieu ne renioient. On dit que tu as la scïence Des haus diex et la sapïence, Et qu’il n’est chose si secrete Que par voie sage et discrete Tu ne saches la verité. En Babyloinne la cité, N’en mon regne, n’en mon empire N’a homme qui me sache dire La sentence de cest escript Qu’est en ceste paroit escript, Que une main qui s’esvanuï De mes yex et qui s’en fuï Y vint en ma presence mettre. Se la substance de la lettre Me dis, robe de pourpre aras, Et avec ce li tiers seras De mon empire et de mon regne. Dont je suis rois et ou je regne.” Quant li rois ot dit sa parole, Daniel einsi l’aparole: “Rois, de tes dons ne de ta terre N’ay cure; mais de ce qui serre Ton cuer en grief pensee obscure Te dirai la verité pure. Diex qui est rois et qui est sires Des rois, des regnes, des empires, Regne, magnificence, et gloire, Richesse, puisssance, et victoire Donna a ton pere jadis. Mais ne volt autre paradis Qu’estre en ceste magnificence. Tant avoit richesse et puissance, Terres, fiez, honneur, et avoir Que trop estoit de tant avoir. Pour ce li pueple l’aouroient Et toutes langues le doubtoient. Tous ceus qu’il voloit eslever, Nuls homs ne leur pooit grever. Ceaus qu’il voloit humelier, Il les metoit au pain prier, Et ceaus qu’il haoit jusqu’a mort, Il estoient en l’eure mort. Quant il se vit en si haut point, Orgueil, qui ne scet faire a point, En son cuer se mist et bouta, Et telement le debouta Qu’il perdi sa gloire et son regne, N’orgueil n’i tint regle ne regne. De tous hommes fu deboutez Pour l’orgueil ou il fu boutez, Et parmi champs, parmi boscages Fu mis o les bestes sauvages. La fu son habitation Maint jour, et pour refection Toutes les fois qu’il avoit fain, Aussi comme .i. buef mengoit fain. Sa char souvent de la rousee Fu, qui vient dou ciel, arousee. En ce point fu lonc temps tes peres, Qui estoit rois et empereres, Jusqu’atant qu’il ot congnoissance De la souvereinne puissance Dou vray Dieu, qui est imortels Et qui puet aus hommes mortels Donner roiaumes et empires, Et tollir com souverains sires, Et donner richesse ou poverte A chascun, selonc sa desserte. Balthasar, tu qui es ses fils, N’as pas ton cuer, j’en sui tous fis, Encliné et humilié Humblement, et amolié Vers le souverein roy celestre, Qui est dou ciel seigneur, et mestre De l’air, de la mer, de la terre, Et de quanque la nue enserre. Einsois as pris les vaissiaus d’or Que prist Nabugodonosor En son temple, et si ont beü Tant que tuit en sont embeü, Ti consillier, tes concubines, Ti serf, ti vallet, tes meschines. Ce dieu n’as pas fait honnourer, Eins as fait les tiens aourer, Qui sont d’argent, d’or, et de queuvre, De fer, de fust, de pierre, et de ouevre Faite d’umainne creature. C’est ouevre qui mult petit dure, Qu’il n’oient, ne voient, n’entendent, Ne parole a homme ne rendent. Car vie n’ont, ne sentement, Ne membre qui ait mouvement. Si que tu es trop deceüs, Et en enfer dou ciel cheüs, Pour ce que li diex de nature Qui crea toute creature N’as servi, chieri, ne amé Com ton vray dieu et reclamé. Si que je te diray l’escript Qui est en la paroit escript Avec la main qui l’a escript, Dont tu vues savoir le descript. Et je le te diray par ordre Si qu’il n’i ara que remordre. Roys, se j’ay bien retenu, En l’escripture a contenu Trois mos: “Mane thechel pharés.” Ne sont pas mos de cabarés, Car chascuns mos porte sa glose Grant et fiere, qui bien la glose. Si que la declaration Saras, sans nulle fiction. Li Dieu qui point ne faut ne ment, Qui n’a fin ne commancement, Qui est fermes, justes, estables, Regnans sans fin et pardurables, Ha veü et congnut les ouevres De quoy tu as ouvré et ouevres. Or te diray sans plus attendre Comment tu dois ‘mane’ entendre. ‘Mane,’ c’est proprement a dire Que ton roiaume et ton empire Ha Diex nombré et acompli, Et si l’a conclus en tel pli Que jamais il ne croistera, Mais toudis amenuisera, Qu’il est en son plus haut sommet. Se tu m’entens bien, il sommet Ton corps, ton honneur, ta puissance, Ta gloire, ta magnificence, Ton roiaume, ta dignité, Et toute ta felicité A mort et a destruction, Pour ce qu’as fait oblation Aus ydoles et sacrefice, Et as laissié si digne office Com d’aourer le roy celestre, Qui ton pere fist le feinc pestre. Tout ce verras isnellement Parfait, se Daniel ne ment. ‘Thechel’ te moustre et signefie Pour ta desordenee vie Que ton roiaume et ta puissance Ha Diex mis en une balance. Mais la balance juste et fine Clerement moustre et determine Q’tu es cils qui meins y a Pour l’orgueil qui te conchia Et conchie de jour en jour Quant en toy fait si lone sejour, Qui ne puet nullement souffrir Que tu ailles ton cuer offrir Au vray dieu qui fist tout le monde; Si en morras de mort seconde, Car l’ame et le corps perderas, Et l’avoir — einsi fineras. ‘Pharés’ te moustrë a la lettre — Car je n’i vueil oster ne mettre — Une chose qui est moult dure Et qui te sera moult obscure, Moult anuieuse et moult diverse: Qu’a ceaus de Medee et de Perse Sera devisés tes royaumes, Se c’estoit fins ors ou fins baumes, S’en ara chascuns sa partie, Si en perdras la signourie, Ame, corps, et avoir ensamble. Or t’ay devisé, ce me samble, De la main et de l’escripture Clerement la verité pure. Mais des .iij. mos l’entention Tent a une conclusion.” Quant li rois oÿ la parole, Il ne la tint pas pour frivole, Eins li sambla moult mervilleuse, Moult diverse et moult perilleuse. Mais nompourquant il commanda A ses menistres, qu’il manda, Que une robe ait d’or et de pourpre Daniel a li toute propre, Et qu’a la guise de Caldee Soit la tortice d’or formee En son col, et qu’il soit li tiers De son regne. Moult volentiers Feïrent son commandement, Mais ne vesqui pas longuement Balthasar, car il fu tués Celle nuit et envers rués, Dont li pueples moult se merveille, Et se seingne de la merveille Et dist, n’i a ne ce ne el. Chascuns voit bien que Daniel Porte la scïence divine En son cuer et en sa poitrine. Aprés ce roy Daires regna, Qui Daniel en son regne a Moult amé et moult tenu chier. Mais par envie trebuchier Le vorrent li prince et li conte, Si com la Bible le raconte, Pour ce qu’il pooit commander Seur eaus et leurs fais amender, Car li roys Daires a mandé Tous ses princes et commandé, Et aussi a tous ses menistres, Quels nons qu’il aient ou quels titres, Q’chascuns d’eaus seur grant amende A Daniel le compte rende De sa recepte et de son fait, Qu’einsi li plaist; et il l’ont fait. Et encor fu l’entention Dou roy que domination Heüst dessus tout son païs, Dont il fu des princes haïs. Mais Diex li peres le menoit En tous ses fais, et soustenoit, Si que li prince et li satrape Par pure envie, qui atrape Maint cuer, quirent occasion Pour mener a destruction Daniel, mais il virent bien Qu’il avoit en li tant de bien Q’jamais en li ne trouvassent Chose dont mauvais le prouvassent. Si s’avisierent d’un malice Pour li oster de son office Et pour sa mort, que sans deloy Il le penroient en sa loy, Si que d’assentement commun Tuit furent en acort comme un, Princes, satrapes, senatours, Menistres, juges, et centours, D’un edit faire et .i. decret, Tout en appert, non en secret, Que quicunques petition, Sacrefice, ou oblation Jusqu’a .xxx. jours, c’est la somme, A quelque dieu ou a quelque homme Fera, qu’a Daire seulement, Qu’il soit getés isnellement Ou mis en la fosse aus lions, De quelque estat que soit li hons, Pour li faire, sans demourer, Morir a honte et devourer. Lors vinrent tuit en grant arroy, Tous ensamble devant le roy, Si li conterent l’ordenance Qu’orent fait en sa reverence, En li priant qu’il y meïst Son decret et qu’il le feïst Publier parmi son empire. Li rois liement, sans plus dire, Le conferma et approuva, Mais moult tost message trouva Pour aler en Perse et en Mede Publier que sans nul remede Qu’eu lac o les lions sauvages, Quels qu’il soit, soit sires ou pages, Sera cils qui trespassera L’edit doy roy ou brisera. Daniel, qui bien sot l’edit, N’i opposa ne contredit, Eins s’en ala en son ostel, Et si vit bien qu’il n’i ot tel Com d’avoir parfaite fiance En vray Dieu et bonne esperence. Si entra en son oratoire Pour le souverain Dieu de gloire Aourer, loer, et prier, Ne riens nel peüst detrier Qu’a genous trois fois la journee Ne fust s’orison presentee A Dieu, qui deffent et qui garde De tous ceaus qu’il prent en sa garde. Si tourna son cuer et sa face Vers le souverain Dieu de grace Et par devers Jherusalem. Mais il fust entrez en mal an Se Dieus ne l’eüst secouru, Car si anemi acouru. Y sont pluseurs qui le gaitoient Et qui mortelment le haoient, Si virent par une fenestre Qu’il aouroit le Dieu celestre. Et tantost sont au roy venus, Et dirent: “Rois, tu es tenus A garder raison et justisse, Et que ton edit ne perisse. Tu as par ton païs mandé Et seur la vie commandé Qu’il ne soit homs, tant ait hautesse, Qui aoure dieu ne deesse, Ne homme nul fors toy seulement Jusqu’a .xxx. jours.” “Vraiement, C’est verité,” ce respont Daire. “Homs ne doit faire le contraire.” Lors respondirent li tirans, A la mort Daniel tirans: “Rois, or saches certeinnement Que Daniel communement Aoure son dieu a genous .IIJ. fois le jour. Chascuns de nous Le scet, l’a veü, l’a prouvé, Et tantost li avons trouvé, Et nous t’en portons tesmognage De ce despit, de cest outrage, Qu’a ta loy nulle riens n’aconte, Et si vous fait despit et honte.” Quant Daires oÿ la nouvelle, Et vit que ceint d’une cordelle Furent li prince de Caldee, Il cheï en moult grief pensee Et fu courreciés durement, Car Daniel amoit forment, Si prist a penser qu’il feroit Et comment il li aideroit, Car bien perçut qu’il le faisoient Par envie et qu’il le haoient. Mais li prince et li cenatour, Et ceuls qui estoient entour, Dirent au roy: “Tu ne dois mie Estre pour ce en merencolie, Car trop seroit chose diverse Se la loy de Mede et de Perse Estoit pour .i. seul homme enfreinte; Grant perte seroit et grant pleinte.” Li rois dist: “Veingne Daniel Et soit mis en lac; y m’est bel.” Daniel fu mandés et vint. Adont le prirent plus de vint Pour mettre en la fosse crueuse. Et li rois, a chiere piteuse, Li dist: “Daniel, biaus amis, En lac des lions seras mis; Sergens de Dieu, pren bon espoir En ton dieu, car par li j’espoir Que chascuns clerement verra Qu’a joie te delivera.” Adont fu une pierre ostee, Qui moult estoit pesant et lee, Si le mirent sans demourer Pour li mengier et devourer, Comme l’aingnel entre les leus, Avec les lions familleus. Daires commanda qu’on preïst La pierre et qu’on la remeïst Dessus l’entree de la fosse. Car il vuet savoir, qui qu’en grosse, Et veoir que ce devenra, Et quel fin la chose penra. Si seela de son anel, La pierre moult bien et moult bel. Aussi firent si consillier. Mais ne s’en doit nuls mervillier Qu’il ne voloit qu’on li peüst Meffaire qu’il ne le sceüst. Si s’en part, Daniel demeure. Mais chascuns des lions l’onneure Et li fait feste et reverence, Sans moleste, sans violence. La fu .vj. jours, que creature Pain, ne vin, ne autre pasture Ne li donna, n’aus .vij. lions, Plus familleus qu’alerions, Ne fu riens donné la journee Par quoy sa char fust devouree. Et si leur donnoit on sans faille Tous les jours .ij. pieces d’aumaille, Et .ij. moutons pour eaus repaistre, Mais ce jour n’orent point de maistre. Un prophete avoit en Judee, Abacuc, qui, une journee, Avoit fait viande en .i. pot D’orve et de lait au miex qu’il pot, S’avoit dou pain en sa louvette, Et de l’iaue en une cruchette Pour porter ceaus qui labouroient Aus champs pour moissons q’estoient. Quant au champs fu, bonne encontre a Encontré, car il encontra L’angle dou haut Dieu souverain, Qui li dist au mot premerain: “Abacuc, li grans Dieus te mande Que tu portes ceste viande A Daniel en Babiloine. N’i quier eslonge ne essoine, Qu’il est mis eu lac aus lions Par mauvaises detractions.” Quant son parler ot assevi, Abacuc dist: “Onques ne vi Babiloine, et le lac ne say; N’onques vers la ne m’adressay.” Adont li angles, sans attendre, L’ala parmi les cheveus prendre Et le porta, c’est verité, En Babiloinne la cité, Et le mist droit dessus le lieu Ou Daniel fu en milieu Des .vij. lions qui desiroient A mengier, car grant fain avoient. Quant Abacuc fu mis a terre, Dou lac ne brisa huis ne serre, Aussi n’i mist il nulle peinne, Einsois hucha a longue alainne: “O Daniel, de Dieu sergens, Que seur tout doivent amer gens, Pren le mengier que Diex t’envoie. Conforte toy et meinne joie; Car li sires qu’onques n’oubli, Ne t’a mie mis en oubli. Ren au grant Dieu grace et löange, Qui aporté ci par son ange M’a en brief temps de longue voie. Si desir moult que je te voie. Lieve sus et pren le mengier Qu’ay fait et que tu dois mengier.” Quant Daniel parler l’oÿ, Moult durement se resjoÿ Et dist: “Voirement, li vrais Diex Qu’est rois des rois et Diex des diex N’oublie onques ses bons amis; De moult long m’a secours tramis; Les bons aimme qui le mal fuient, Et ceaus secourt qu’a li s’apuient.” Daniel se mist en estant, Et si menja de ce més tant Qu’il fu saous et repeüs, Et de l’amour Dieu embeüs. Ce fait, li angles reporta Abacuc que la aporta, Et le mist en la propre place Ou pris l’avoit en po d’espace. Au .vij.me jour, li rois Daires Volt savoir comment li affaires De Daniel s’estoit portés, Car moult estoit desconfortés De son mal et de sa grevence, Car paour avoit et doubtance Qu’il ne fust mort et devouré Pour son dieu qu’il ot aouré. Lors Daires le lac entrouvri Et vit que Daniel couvri De ses mains le chief des lions. Mais il n’estoit femme ne homs Qui veïst onques Daniel En milleur point, ne en plus bel. Et li rois Daires, qui veoit Daniel, qui la se seoit Entre les bestes perilleuses, Felonnesses et orguilleuses, Qui n’orent mengié ne beü D’un jour, que riens n’orent eü, Et qu’il avoit .vij. jours esté Dedens le lac en jours d’esté, Sans pain, sans vin, et sans pasture Qu’avoir peüst de creature, Et qu’il ot santé aussi bonne Ou mieudre assés qu’autre personne, A haute vois cria et dit, Contre sa loy et son edit: “Il n’est plus de dieu vraiement Que le Daniel seulement, Qui l’a geté sain et en vie Dou lac ou mis fu par envie.” Li rois le fist tirer amont Sans delay, qu’i desira mont Li veoir et parler a li. Mais n’avoit pas le vis pali Pour ordure, ne pour puour, Pour jeüne, ne pour paour. Daires, qui l’amoit durement, Li demanda moult doucement: “Sergens de Dieu, comment t’est il? Tu as esté en grant peril!” Daniel li respont briefment: “Bons rois, vif pardurablement! Mes Diex son angle m’envoia Qui les bouches tint et loia Des lions si fort que contraire Ne mal ne me peüssent faire, Pour ce qu’il m’a juste trouvé Partout ou il m’a esprouvé, N’onques vers toy, roys, ne mespris, Ne riens a tort d’autrui ne pris.” Li rois Daires fist enquerir Partout, enserchier, et querir Tous ceaus qui de ce malefice Furent cause, et de quelque office Il fussent, il les fist geter Dedens le lac sans arrester, Et leurs femmes, leurs fils, leurs filles. Mais a ce n’acontent .ij. billes Li lion, qu’il ont a mengier Assez. Einsi se volt vengier Li rois d’eaus, car il furent mort Tout ensemble de male mort. Adont li rois Daires escript Generaument .i. tel escript: “A toutes generations, Pueples, langues, et nations, A tous les habitans dou munde. Soit grace et pais qui leur habunde! .I. estatut et .i. decret, Fait par bon conseil et discret En mon empire et en mon regne, Dont je suis rois et ou je regne, Fais et ay fait que tout le pueple Q’ mon regne et empire pueple Doubte, creingne, serve, et honneure Le Dieu Daniel a toute heure. Car vivens est et pardurables, En siecles de siecles durables; Son regne ja ne finera Et sa puissance adés sera. C’est des prisons li delivrerres. C’est des pecheurs li vrais sauverres. C’est cils qui les signes horribles Fait, et merveilles impossibles En ciel, en eaue, en mer, en terre; Les pris et enserrez dessere, Qui Daniel a sauveté Ha dou lac aus lions geté.” Einsi fist li rois Daire escrire Par son roiaume et son empire, Qu’au Dieu Daniel oubeïsse Chascuns et li face servise, Et qu’on renoie ydolatrie Que je tien a grant cornardie: Qu’.i. entailleur fait une ymage De corps, de membres, de visage. Et quant faite l’a gente et bele, Son signeur et son dieu l’apelle. Il scet bien qu’il est plus grant mestre Que l’image ne porroit estre, Car il l’a fait comme soutis A ses mains et a ses outis, Et si la porroit bien deffaire, Mais l’image ne puet riens faire, Car vie n’a, ne sentement, Mouvement, scens, n’entendement. Si ressamble Pymalion En meurs et en condition, Qui fist l’image et tant l’ama Que amie et dame la clama. Aussi ressamble il Manassés, Qui ne faisoit feste qu’a ses Fausses ymages et ydoles. Moult avoit or pensees foles, Qui laissoit le Dieu de Nature Pour servir une tele ordure. Mais de li ne vueil or plus dire Pour continuer ma matire, Car ci aprés en parlerai. Et nompourquant tant en dirai Que cils qui fait de tel dieu feste, Certeinnement, c’est une beste. Car il n’est qu’.i. Dieu seulement, Par lequel li .iiij. element Sont fait, dont toute creature Prent soustenence et norriture. Cils Diex qui tout païst et gouverne Le centre dou ciel et le cerne, Le soleil tient haut en ardure Et la lune bas en froidure, C’est li sires qui si bien nombre Qu’il scet des arainnes le nombre, Et combien la mer a de goutes, Et le nom des estoiles toutes. C’est cils qui nulle fois ne faut Aus siens, car de riens n’ont deffaut. C’est cils qui le monde forma De nient et qui sa fourme a Pris de li seul sans autre aïe. C’est li sires qui tout maistrie. Son bien n’aroie jamais dit, Qu’en li n’a deffaut ne mesdit. Tout puet, tout vaut, tout: scet, tout a. Onques riens ne crient ne doubta, Car riens ne le bransle n’esloche. Einsois est trop plus c’une roche Fors, fermes, certeins, et seürs. Certeinnement, c’est grans eürs, Autant au grant comme au meneur Qui tient tel dieu pour son signeur. Or pues tu clerement veoir Que nostres sires pourveoir Puet adés les siens de legier, Sans riens vendre et sans applegier. Si qu’aies en li bon espoir, Et si le ser bien, et j’espoir Que toy et ton fait pourverra, Si qu’a bien te delivrera. Encor vueil je .i. exemple mettre En rime, si prés de la lestre Comme je porrai bonnement Pour manifester clerement Qu’avoir doit chascuns s’esperence En Dieu et toute sa fiance. Et pour ce en parler en propos Qu’i fait moult bien a mon propos. Rois Manassés, en .xij.me an, Regna, rois de Jherusalem, Et regna d’ans .v. et .i. Mais ne vueil pas mettre m’entente A rimer en especial Tout ce qu’il fist en general; Eins m’en passeray plus briefment. Quant il regna premierement, Il fist faire pluseurs ydoles, Temples, autez, et marioles, Et tout son pueple ad ce mena Que tous ensamble se pena D’elles servir et aourer, Sacrefier, et honnourer; Et com dervez, pleins de foloy, Leur fist laissier toute la loy Que Diex ot donné a Moÿse. Encor ouvra il d’autre guise, Qu’en temple de Jherusalem Son dieu — Baalim l’appella l’en — Fist mettre, et mist hors tout a fait Quanque ses peres y a fait, Qui fu bons, loiaus, et preudons, Et au temple donna preu dons; Le ciel, le soleil, et la lune Cultiva — c’est chose commune — Et toute la chevalerie Dou ciel et pour l’idolatrie Plus essaucier, en certein lieu Les fist mettre en temple de Dieu. Trop fist de maus, trop fort mesprist. Or orras comment il l’emprist. Diex, qui ne vuet mie la mort Dou pecheur, einsois .i. remort Li donne qu’il se convertisse Et qu’il vive en son dous servise, A son pueple et a li parla, Mais ne les ot mie par la, Car a li ne vorrent entendre, Honneur, ne sacrefice rendre. Mais n’atendi pas longuement Que Diex s’en venja telement Que dou prince de la bataille Au roy des Siriens sans faille Fu pris et loiés Manassés, N’onques n’i ot autre prosés, Einsois fu menez sans pité En Babiloinne la cité. Mais un fers avoit si pesans Que, qui li donnast mil besans, Il ne s’en peüst deffergier. Et puis on l’ala habregier En une chartre moult obscure, Pleinne de puour et d’ordure. Or verra on se ses ydoles, Dont il faisoit tenir escoles Le porront geter de ce pas. Certes, je ne le pense pas; Eins y morra, je n’en doubt mie, S’envers Dieu son cuer ne humelie. Or est Manassés en prison Si pris qu’onques ne fu pris hon Plus fort ne mieus emprisonnez, N’estre ne puet desprisonnez Se Dieus ne le fait proprement, Car c’est par son commandement. Si muse, pense, et se retourne, Et sa pensee en maint tour tourne, Mais riens n’i vaut le retourner. Il li couvient son cuer tourner Et sa pensee en autre tour S’il vuet issir de ceste tour. Einsi pense, muse, et retournoie, Mais il couvient qu’a ce tour noie Les ydoles qui bestourné Ont son sens et si mal tourné Que ja sans mort n’en tournera Se sa pais a ce tour ne ra. Adont vers le ciel se tourna Et devotement s’aourna Pour congnoistre son creatour, Qu’est signeur dou munde et actour, Qui les mauvais einsi chastie. Lors son delit et sa sotie Congnut pour veintre le tournoy, Et dist: “De mon creatour n’oy Onques mais vraie congnoissance, Mais or congnois bien sa puissance, Et qu’il est diex et souverains Pardurables et premerains.” Et lors commensa sa priere, Humble et devote en tel maniere: “Sires Diex, qui es tous puissans, Qui gardes tes oubeïssans, Diex de nos peres Abraham, Ysaac, Jacob, qui maint ahan Heurent pour t’amour en leur vie, Diex es de leur juste lignie, Qui la terre et le firmament Feïs, et quanqu’il y appent, Qui en la mer termes et signes Has mis par tes paroles dignes, En commandant qu’elle oubeïsse Et que point de son canel n’isse. Conclus, limité has l’abisme, Et signé par ton nom saintisme, Terrible et digne de löange. Aussi tout tramble, nés li ange Qu’as enluminé de ta grace, Contre la vertu de ta face, Encontre ton ire importable Qu’est aus pecheurs mort pardurable, Qui ne menasse ne deffie. Mais ne soit pecheur qui s’i fie, Car qui s’i fie a mort se fiert, Et fait ce qu’a faire n’affiert; Et aussi la misericorde Que ta promesse nous acorde Est large sans nulle mesure, Car onques ne fu creature, N’est, ne sera, qui tant sceüst Faire que savoir le peüst. Car tu es li souvereins sires Des roiaumes et des empires, Et aussi de toute la terre. Fols est qui vuet autre dieu querre. Trop yes piteus, misericors, Dous, courtois a l’ame et au cors, Et penitens seur les malices Des hommes, c’est tes drois offices. Tu, sires, par douce pité Has promis, selonc ta bonté, Remission et penitence Des pechiés qui nous font grevence. Tu, qui es sires vrais et justes, N’as pas mis penitence aus justes, Ne rien remis de leur pechié, Pour ce que n’ont mie pechié. Et pour ce que plus entechiés Sui de vices et de pechiés Qu’il n’a dedens la mer d’areinne, Ma grant iniquité me mainne, Qui monteplie sans sejour, Ad ce que de nuit et de jour Sui loiez et enchaainnez, Pris, conclus, destruis, et minez, Si que je n’enten respirer N’a peinne puis je souspirer. Sire, j’ay excité ton ire Et pechié plus que ne puis dire, Metans abominations, Multiplicans offensions, Pour ta sainte loy mettre en puer. Or les .ij. genous de mon cuer Fleche vers toy, sire, et te pri Q’oie ta bonté mon depri. J’ay pechié, sire, j’ay pechié, Et bien recongnois mon pechié, Mes deffaus, mes iniquités, Et de mes pechiés les viltez, Si te suppli tres humblement Et te requier devotement: Pardonne moy, sire, pardonne! Ne per m’ame avec ma personne Et avec mes iniquitez (Ne reserve pas tes pitez), Mal pour moy pardurablement! Et moy, non digne, a sauvement Menra ta grant misericorde. Si te promet, sire, et t’acorde Que tu seras de ma partie Loez tous les jours de ma vie Car dou ciel toute la vertu Te loe sans cesser, et tu Has gloire pardurable es siecles, Ou tu regnes com Diex et siecles.” Quant il ot finé s’orison, En parfaite devotion Des plours de son cuer arousee, Et de parfons soupirs sevree, En recongnoissant son delit Et son droit Dieu, tant abelit A Dieu qu’il oÿ sa priere Et la reçut en tel maniere Que de prison le deslia, Et telle amour moustré li a Qu’en son roiaume a grant honnour Le remist com roy et signour. Ces .iiij. exemples que dit ay, Tres chiers amis, je les ditay Seulement pour toy conforter, Car je ne te puis pas porter A mon vueil consolation En ta grant desolation. Si que tu dois bien penre garde Comment Diex ceuls et celles garde Qu’il vuet consillier et garder: Ne leur couvient pas regarder A leur fait, qu’a eaus son regart Ha si qu’il n’ont de riens regart. Et certes, ja ne tardera Qu’il ne t’aide, et te gardera De tous, se s’amour a droit gardes (Et des yex de ton cuer l’esgardes), Et se tu as vraie fiance En li, et parfait esperence. Tu vois comment Susenne fu De mort garentie et de fu Seulement pour sa loyauté, Qui fu prise pour sa biauté. Li enfant qui de cuer et d’ame Loerent Dieu dedens la flame Et menoient revel et feste, Qu’onques .i. cheveu de leur teste N’i fu malmis, ne empirez; Mieus vorrent estre martirez Que faire ou penser tel foloy Comme d’errer contre leur loy, Ne que orer l’estature d’or Que fist Nabugodonosor. Il furent sain et sauf delivre, Si com je le truis en mon livre. Ce fu par la vertu divine Qui ses amis d’aidier ne fine. Daniel dou lac aus lions, Pour ses bonnes conditions Et pour ce que Diex l’ot trouvé Juste, quant bien l’ot esprouvé, A grant honneur le delivra, Et si le roy Daire enyvra De s’amour qu’en plus haut degré Le mist qu’onques mais, tout de gré, En despit de ses annemis, Qui par li furent si mal mis Qu’il furent tuit ensamble mort De male et de honteuse mort. Pour ce que Manassés erra, Nostres sire si l’enferra En Babiloine ou enserrez Fu, si loiés et enferrez Que ce li sambloit uns enfers, Tant estoit liez et en fers. Mais si tost comme il renia Les ydoles et qu’il pria A Dieu merci devotement, En plours et en gemissement, Diex l’escouta et entendi, Et son roiaume li rendi Et Ii remist seigneur et mestre Assez plus que ne soloit estre. Quant Mathathias dut fenir Ses jours, ses enfans fist venir Devant lui pour euls conforter Et aussi pour euls enorter Q’bien gardassent les misteres De la loy et que leurs sains peres Ensuissent, qu’onneur et gloire, Nom pardurable, et bon memoire Sera d’eaus s’il le font einsi, Et si leur enseingna aussi Qu’Abraham fu trouvez estables En temptation et fiables, Et cela li fu reputé A justice et a verité. Joseph, en temps de son angoisse, Qui son cuer destreint et angoisse, Garda et tint le mandement De la loy son Dieu telement Qu’il en fu puis sires d’Egypte, Qui ne fu pas chose petite. Finees, qui fu nostre pere, Plus tenrement ama que mere En amant l’amour de son Dieu, Et ceste amour li tint tel lieu Qu’i ot a perpetuité La plus tres noble dignité Dou monde, et la plus honnourable, Nom et memoire pardurable. Biaus amis, je t’en conteroie Jusqu’a demain se je voloie, Si fais dis et si fais exemples, Car mes oreilles et mes temples En sont remplies par la Bible. Mais riens n’est a Dieu impossible, Ne fort a faire, car il puet Faire en tous cas tout ce qu’il vuet, N’onques homs si desconfortez Ne fu qui ne fust confortez S’il ot son cuer et sa pensee A li dou tout jointe et fermee. Si que, chiers sires et amis, Tu es pris de tes anemis, Mais trop as estroite prison. Si croy que c’est sans mesprison, Car attrais n’ies pas de nature Que faire doies mespresure, Au mains tele ne si notable Com pour estre en lieu si grevable, Ja soit ce que nature enseingne Q’homme ne soit qui ne mesprengne. Or te dirai que tu feras Et comment tu gouverneras T’ame, ton corps, et ta maniere. Des choses toute la premiere Que tu feras, tu dois amer Ton Dieu et souvent reclamer De cuer devost, humble, et parfait, Non par feintise, mais par fait. S’einsi le fais, il t’aidera Encontre tous et gardera. Car dit ay qu’nuls ne se fie En lui qui de confort mendie. Par les exemples l’as veü Que je t’ay ci devant leü. Aprés, amis, se tu vues vivre Sainnement, mesure ton vivre, Car s’a mesure ne vivoies, Vraiement, tu te honniroies. S’on t’aporte bonne viande Et ton appetit te commande Que tu en preingnes largement, Ne fai pas son commandement. Car cils se honnist et deffait Qui trop mengue et riens ne fait. Et s’on t’aportoit a cautelle Ceste viande bonne et belle, Et puis tu en mengasses trop, Tu t’ociroies a .i. cop, Qu’on te donroit a la traverse Aprés d’une autre si diverse Et si anuieuse a mengier Que tu n’en porroies mengier. Einsi seroies deceüs, Mal gouvernez, et mal peüs. Si qu’amis, pren ta soustenance, Mesure et poise en la balance Tant la mauvaise com la bonne. Garde qu’en ton mengier ait bonne, Et qu’adés petit a petit Tu reteingnes ton appetit, Car nature est bien repeüe De moult petit et soustenue. Aprés, amis, en pacïence Dois penre et avoir souffissance Es biens, es maus que Diex t’envoie, Et dois tenir la droite voie Que Job tenoit quant essilliez Fu et si mal aparilliez Qu’il perdi tout, c’est chose voire, Fors que le corps et le memoire, Comment qu’en richesse signeur N’eüst en Oriant gringneur. Or just sus .i. fumier puant Tout seul, en guise d’un truant, Chargiez de rongne et de vermine. Mais tant ot a Dieu son cuer qu’il ne Dist onques chose de sa bouche Qui peüst tourner a reprouche De son Dieu; einsois humblement Le looit et devotement. Et s’on te dit parole dure Ou fait de fait aucune injure, Souveingne toy que Diex souffri Pour nous, et comment il se offri A peinne, a dueil, et a martyre. Je te pri trop: n’en fai que rire S’on te fait grief peinne ou desroy. Mais aies toudis cuer de roy, Et certes, tu les veinqueras Toutes les fois qu’einsi feras. Se tu n’ies couchiés et levez, Pingniez, gallandés, et lavez, Vestis et chauciez nettement, Einsois es tenus povrement, Po honnourez et po servis, Et de ta franchise asservis, Et se ti drapel sont tous rous, Je te pri, n’en moustre courrous. Et si n’en fai samblant ne chiere, Car s’on veoit a ta maniere Que fusses mas et desconfis, Pis t’en seroit, j’en sui tous fis, En .iij. manieres ou en .iiij. Car ne te pues si bien esbatre Comme en ce qu’on te voie ferme En lieu si vil, ne si enferme, Et que tu soies, sans doubtance, Riches d’avis et de vaillance. Mieus t’en ameront ti amy; Aussi feront ti anemy, S’on te voit sans desconfiture. Car c’est grant honte et grant laidure A prince qui se desconforte Pour nouvelle qu’on li aporte. Por povreté, ne pour richesse, Pour grant joie, ne pour tristesse Ne doit muer qu’il ne soit fermes Com Socratés. S’en ce te fermes, Tu en seras si bien parez Qu’aus philosophes comparez Seras, qui tant furent estable Qu’il n’estoit riens, tant fust doutable, Qu’il n’amassent miex recevoir Que ce qu’on peüst parcevoir Qu’en leur bon propos variassent, Ne que verité declinassent. Il ne doubtoient riens la mort. Or puet estre que ce t’amort A cheoir en merencolie. Mais vraiement, c’est grant folie. Tu scez bien que morir te faut, Si que c’est nonscens et deffaut Puis qu’il ne puet autrement estre; Et si n’i a nul si grant mestre Qui bien a sa mort ne resgarde. Aussi ta loiauté te garde Et gardera, n’en doubte pas, Et te gettera de ce pas. Si dois eschuer desespoir Et toudis avoir bon espoir. Mais en ta grant mendicité Fai vertu de neccessité. Encor te vueil je .ij. mos dire Pour continuer ma matire. Amis, se tu te desconfortes, Tu mourdris ton cuer, et avortes, Et fais joie a tes anemis, Et s’en est Diex arriere mis, Meins priez et meins honnourez, Meins servis et meins adourez, Et si dois tout autre penser Laissier pour bien a li penser. Et se tu me respons: “Je pense Que chascuns me maudist et tense, Et dit que je sui en prison Mis pour murdre ou pour traïson, S’ai en ce si grant deshonneur Qu’avoir ne puis jamais honneur.” Je te vueil a tout ce respondre, Sans riens enclorre ne repondre, Et certes, ja n’en mentirai De tout ce que je t’en dirai. Je te di que la renommee S’espant par toute la contree Que po de gens scevent la cause Dont ta detention se cause, Si en dit chascuns a sa guise. Mais pour .i. qu’est liés de ta prise, Des dolens en y a .ij. mille. On le scet bien parmi la ville, Car chascuns qui de toy parole En dit bonne et bele parole, Et te pleint. Nés li enfançon Chantent de toy bonne chanson. Et que tous ceaus qui te pourchacent Ne demandent, quierent, ne chacent Que par nulle guise on te face Bonté, courtoisie, ne grace, Fors justice tant seulement, C’est grant honneur, certeinnement, Et si pert bien que tu te sens De corps et de cuer innocens. Ce te doit moult reconforter Et aidier tes maus a porter. Aussi as tu des bons amis Que Diex t’a donné et tramis, Qui si fort pour toy prieront Q’leurs prieres t’aideront Envers le Dieu qui a droit juge. Et si as bon et loial juge, Sage, piteus, et veritable, Qui t’est chose si pourfitable Qu’i te pardonra ton meffait, Se tu avoies bien meffait, La quel chose je ne croy mie. Tu as tous les jours de ta vie Heü quanque tu as volu. Se tu vossisses or molu Mengier, ou pierres precïeuses, Ou avoir robes curïeuses, Joiaus, deniers, chevaus, destriers, Dont d’or fin fussent les estriers, Tu l’eüsses sans contredit. N’onques on ne te fist ne dit Chose qui te deüst desplaire, Car chascuns voloit a toy plaire. Si que tu as ton creatour Mis en oubli pour ton atour, Pour ta grandeur, pour ta richesse, Pour ton pooir, pour ta noblesse, Et ne l’as mie tant servi Qu’aies sa grace desservi. Pour ce, biaus amis, il te monstre De Fortune l’orrible monstre, Qui tout par est espouentables, Fiers, crueus, divers, et doutables. N’a pas lonc temps que tu cuidoies Q’se Prians, li rois de Troies, Fust en vie, et son fil Hector, Troïllus, et le bon Nector — Qui Menelaus mist en grant peinne Pour Paris, qui ravist Heleinne — Et te vosissent faire guerre En ton païs et en ta terre, Qu’einsi te peüssent abatre Si tost, par scens ne par combatre, Com Fortune t’a abatu, Qui en sa roiz t’a embatu, Et la te bat de ses flaiaus, Qui sont mauvais et desloiaus. Et se tu vues dire que tu ne Yes mie subjés de Fortune, Et que ta grant attration Affranchist ta condition, Et qu’elle donné ne t’a mie Ta richesse et ta signourie, Einsois te vient de droite ligne, Li sires qui droit regle et ligne Prent ses vengences si obscures Maintes fois sus les creatures Que nuls ne le porroit penser, Ymaginer, ne recenser, Et par maniere trop diverse Trebuche l’un et l’autre verse. Son jugement est un abisme: N’est homs qui en sache la disme, N’aussi de sa misericorde, Qui a toutes graces s’acorde. Maintes fois laist aler la foudre, Qui tout destruit et met en poudre, Ou la mort, ou le vent qui vente Qui tout honnist et tout cravente, Ou Fortune, qui rit et pleure, Et tume les siens en po d’eure, Qui a tel force et tel maistrie Que tu vois que pluseurs maistrie Qui furent riche et noble né, Et si ne leur a riens donné, Mais quant li plaist, elle moult tost Ce que pas n’a donné tout tost. Et vues tu clerement savoir, Sans riens enclorre, tout le voir Dont viennent richesse et noblesse? Resgarde en livre de Boësse, Qui te dira, se oïr le vues, Que tous les biens que perdre pues Sont de Fortune, qui moult tost Le bien qu’elle a donné tout tost. Et se des vices separez Estoit et des vertuz parez, Uns savetiers nobles seroit, Et uns rois villains qui feroit Maises ouevres et villonnie. Si que noblesse, je t’affie, Vient de bon et noble corage. Li roy n’i ont autre avantage. Aussi puet elle donner bien A .i. prince assez plus de bien Qu’il n’en a de pere et de mere. Mais cils dons a saveur amere, Qu’elle retolt souvent ensamble Le sien et l’autrui, ce me samble, C’est a dire ce qu’elle donne, Et ce que t’as de lingne bonne. Si que par ce ies en son servage Dou tien et de ton heritage. Si n’est homs vivans qui se exente De Fortune, ne qui se vente Qu’en ses mains ne soit, qui exenter Ne s’en porroit homs, ne vanter Par raison, s’il n’est de vertus Et de bonnes meurs revestus. Mais qui bien est moriginez Et en vertus enracinez, Fortune n’a nulle puissance De lui faire anui ne grievance Quant aus meurs; quant s’elle a l’avoir, Les vertus ne puet elle avoir. Car vertus sont dons que Diex donne A homme qui a bien s’ordonne, Et viennent d’acquisition Faite en bonne condition, Par armes ou par grant estude, Ou par avoir grant multitude De meschiés, de labour, de peinne. Sages est qui en ce se peinne. Richesses sont dons de Fortune, Qui tout aussi comme la lune Ont leurs cours, qu’elles vont et viennent, N’onques en .i. point ne se tiennent Se ce ne sont aucun tresor De gemmes, de monnoie, ou d’or, Qui sont en prison et en serre. Mais quant li homs est mis en terre, Avec li pas ne les en porte, Qu’autres les a qui s’en deporte Et les despent, espoir, et gaste, Et fait grant tourtel d’autrui paste. Mais aussi comme les estoiles Raidient plus cler que chandoiles, Et sont mises en firmament Pour luire pardurablement, Les vertus luisent et luiront. Adés furent, adés seront, Si que Fortune nes empire Pour son plourer, ne pour son rire, Pour ses dons, ne pour ses promesses, Pour povreté, ne pour richesses. Nennil point, mais saches pour voir Qu’elle ne les porroit mouvoir, Ne eslochier, par Saint Denis, Nés qu’on mouveroit Mont Senis. Et pour ce, amis, je te chastoi Que les vertus tires a toy, Et s’en lay toutes autres choses, Car plus souëf sentent que roses, Et richesses et vices puent, Si qu’ame et corps a .i. cop tuent. Salemons li sages lisoit En son livre et ainsi disoit: “De povreté et de richesse, Sire, ne me donne largesse, Mais admenistre moy mon vivre Si qu’onnestement puisse vivre, Que je ne vomisse et parjure Ton nom, qu’a toy feroie injure.” Ne le disoit pas pour niant, Eins doubtoit l’inconveniant Qui vient d’estre povres ou riches. Car trop y a baras et triches, N’il n’est chose que povre gent Ne consentissent pour argent. Et li riche font encor pis, Car il portent dedens lor pis Tant de mal et de felonnie, D’orgueil, d’avarice, et d’envie Qu’on ne le te porroit nombrer. Si se fait mauvais encombrer De richesse et de povreté. Mais qui vuet vivre a seürté, Le moien est, je t’asseür, Li milleur et le plus seür, Mais qu’on y prengne souffissance. Car se li roiaumes de France, Et toute l’empire de Romme Et tout le monde a .i. seul homme Estoient, il mendieroit En cas qu’il ne li souffiroit. Je ne di mie qu’on n’i trueve De si tres bons en toute esprueve Que nul milleur ne trouveroit D’eaus, qui bien les esprouveroit. Et qui les vorroit espouver, On ne porroit milleurs trouver. Or puet estre qu’en ta juvente Tu as mis ton cuer et t’entente En vices et en vanitez, En ordures et en viltez, Et que n’as pas recongneü Les biens que tu as receü De Dieu einsi com tu deüsses. Car s’en ce monde plus n’eüsses De li, fors sans plus ce qu’il t’a Donné vie, et qu’il t’aquita De mort d’enfer par ton baptesme, Fait de parolë et de cresme, Se tu estoies pardurables Par ton merite et aggreables A li plus qu’onques sains ne fu, N’ies tu que chose de refu, Ne dignes n’ies pour li servir, Tant que peüsses desservir De .v.c mil fois une part Des grans biens dont il te repart Et dont meintes fois reparti T’a, de son bien, non pas par ti. Si ne say, s’il prent la vengence De ce qu’as meffait en t’enfance. Car s’il le fait, il m’est avis Qu’il te donne trop bel avis Et que moult te dois aviser De toudis penser et viser A mettre jus tout villain vice, Et a faire son dous service; Qu’a s’amour te duit et adresse S’il te punist en ta jonesse, Einsi comme il fist Manassés, Qu’en prison ot maint dur assés. Et vraiement, s’einsi le fais, De s’amour seras si refais Qu’il te rendra tout ton païs; Et ceaus de qui tu es haïs T’ameront au tour d’un soleil S’a s’amour as le cuer et l’ueil, Car autre chose ne demande. Or as response a ta demande. Et se tu dis: “Las! Je sui mors, Car j’ay plus de mille remors, Et plus de cent mille pensees Diversement entremeslees De souvenirs et de pointures, Tristes, poingnans, fieres, et dures, Et s’ai desir qui toudis veille, Qui jusques a mort me traveille. Et s’ai si tres petit espoir En moy, vraiement, que j’espoir Que jamais n’aray bien ne joie, Einsois suis mors, ou que je soie, Car tuit mi penser contre my Sont, et mi mortel anemy; Et quant Souvenir en moy vient, Tendrement plourer me couvient, Qu’en monde n’a bien qu’i m’aporte, Eins me mourdrist et desconforte, Et les pointures que je sens, Qui sont a milliers et a cens, Chacent de moy par leur rigour Sanc, couleur, maniere, et vigour. Desir me point; desir m’assaut. Desir me rent maint dur assaut. Desir me fait tant endurer. Desir ne me laisse durer; De doleur et de grieté dure Que mors sui se tels mauls me dure. Et m’esperence est si petite Que mes cuers point ne s’i delite, Qu’en li n’a force, ne vertu, Ne delit qui vaille .i. festu, Et tout pour ma tres chiere dame, Que j’aim tres loiaument, par m’ame, Que paour ay que ne la perde. Elas! Ce seroit trop grant perde A moy, las, se je la perdoie. Et si n’est tour, ne vent, ne voie Qui nouvelles m’en face oïr Pour mon dolent cuer resjoïr, Pour mon dolent cuer resjoïr, Que vers li peüsse envoier Pour moy recommander a li, Dont j’ay cuer teint et vis pali; Certes, riens tant ne me tourmente, Prison, n’autre mal que je sente.” Amis, bien te responderoie A tous ces poins se je voloie. Mais y couvient premierement Apliquer ton entendement Ad ce que tu bien entendisses Mes paroles et retenisses, Car cils qui escoute et n’entent Ce qu’on li dit, fait tout autant Com cils qui riens ne prent et chace, Car il pert son temps et sa chace. Or oy ce que je te dirai, Qu’au cuer moult de dueil et d’ire ay Quant ton bien en mal convertis Et quant tu miex ne t’avertis De congnoistre le bien parfait Que Douce Pensee t’a fait, Avec Souvenir et Desir Et Bon Espoir, que plus desir Qu’i te compaingne et te conforte, Combien qu’il soit de tele sorte. Et tu es si mal entendans Que tu n’ies mie ad ce tendans Qu’i te servent de leur mestier, Quant tu en as plus grant mestier, Eins reputes a desconfort Leur bien, leur douceur, leur confort. Si qu’amis, je te vueil aprendre, Pour faire ta tristesse mendre, De quoy Douce Pensee sert, Quant amans le vaut et dessert. Douce Pensee est une chose Qui est en cuer d’amant enclose, Engendree par Souvenir (D’ailleurs ne puet elle venir) Si douce et si melodïeuse, Si plaisant et si amoureuse Qu’il est po de choses plus sades A cuers qui d’amours sont malades. Et comment qu’elle soit sensible, Vraiement, elle est invisible, Car nuls homs ne la voit ne sent Fors cils en qui elle descent. Et comment qu’en son cuer la sente, Il ne voit ne li, ne sa sente. Mais elle est de si noble affaire Qu’en cuer d’amant fait tout contraire Et tout dolour oublier. Et pour ce te vueil supplier, Et si le te lo et conseil Que tu uses de mon conseil. Je t’ai dit que Douce Pensee Est de Souvenir engendree, Dont toutes les fois qu’il avient Que de ta dame te souvient (Se tu n’as pas en temps passé Son commandement trespassé, Eins l’as servi sans decevoir) Tu dois en ton cuer concevoir, Ymaginer, penser, pourtraire La biauté de son dous viaire Et ses crins d’or, crespes, et longs, Qui li batent jusqu’aus talons, Et de ses dous yex les espars, Seur toy mignotement espars, Et de sa tres douce bouchette, Riant a point et vermillette, La douce et attraiant parole Qui t’a mis d’amer a l’escole, Son menton, sa gorge polie, Son col plus blanc que noif negie, Et de son gent corps la façon En qui n’a point de meffaçon. Aprés tu dois considerer Dedens ton cuer et figurer Les vertus dont elle est paree Et sa tres bonne renommee, Ses meurs et ses conditions Qui en toutes perfections La parfont si de corps et d’ame Qu’on la tient pour la milleur dame Qui soit en monde et la plus belle. Chascuns la claimme bonne et bele. Lors dois avoir l’impression De ceste ymagination Et de ceste douce figure Que Dous Penser en toy figure, S’en dois en ton cuer une ymage Faire, a qui tu feras hommage. Et se des amoureus biens fais T’a de sa grace aucuns biens fais, Present li les dois tire a tire Doucement recorder et dire, Et elle te confortera A tes besoins et t’aidera. Elle adoucira ta dolour Et refroidera ta chalour; Ta famine saoulera Et ta grant soif estanchera. Se tu gis a la terre dure Sans tapis et sans couverture, Seur fainc, seur estrain, ou seur paille, Ou sus lit dur, s’on le te baille, Elle t’ara si anobli Que tu mettras tout en oubli, Et tous tes maus et ta grevence Penras en bonne pacïence. Aussi m’as tu dit de Desir Qu’i te fait durement gesir, Avoir lons jours et longues nuis, Et dis qu’il te fait trop d’anuis. Mais se tu ne la desiroies, Vraiement petit l’ameroies, Qu’aussi com li desirs est grans Est li amans d’amer engrans, Et quant desirs de li se part D’amours y vient petite part. Mais tu yes trop fort arrudis De ces pointures que tu dis, Qui tant sont ameres et sures, Et a ton cuer pesmes et dures Et s’en a plus de .v.c muis Ou qu’il n’a d’eaue en .v.c puis. Je le tien a grant ruderie Quant tu t’en pleins, et a sotie, Car ce ne sont que ramembrances, Monitions, ramentevances De l’image qu’est figuree En ton cuer par Douce Pensee. Avoir y deüsses plaisence Et penre grant joie et pais en ce Qu’Amours et ta dame jolie Te font mener si douce vie Com de sentir les maus d’amer, Qui sont tuit dous, sans point d’amer. De ton espoir que perdu has, Vraiement tu te partuas, Biaus amis, quant tu le perdis. A male chose t’aherdis, Car chose n’est si neccessaire Pour le fait que tu as a faire Comme est avoir bonne esperence. Tu ne dois pas faire doubtance, Eins le dois clerement savoir. Et se son pooir vues savoir, Sans oublier chose nesune, Quier en Remede de Fortune, Et en mon Lay de Bon Espoir, Ou je l’aimme et hé desespoir. Nompourquant, j’en diray .ij. mos. Certes, de ce bien vanter m’os (Et ne soit nuls qui s’i oppose!) Qu’en amours n’a si bonne chose Ne qu’amant doient amer si Comme esperence, aprés merci. Si te lo que tu la repreingnes Et que dedens ton cuer la teingnes Avec l’ymage gracïeuse. S’aras compaingnie amoureuse, Aussi comme une trinité, Car ce sera une unité De toy, d’espoir, et de l’image. Pren la dont, si feras que sage. Se tu le fais, il te vaurra, Car ci aprés le temps venra Que ta dame sara ta vie, Et s’elle scet que sans partie Has son ymage enmi ton cuer, Ne t’oublieroit a nul fuer, Eins t’amera plus que devant. Et aussi je t’ai en couvant Que tant est ferme et veritable, Juste, loial, et amiable, Qu’en si tres parfaite bonté Ne porroit estre fausseté. Quant le bon poëtte Orpheüs Fu atout sa harpe meüs Pour aler Erudice querre En une trop estrange terre — Ce fu droit en la region D’enfer ou fu sa mansion, Par le serpent qui si l’a mort En talon qu’elle en ot la mort — S’esperence de la ravoir N’eüst, pour quanqu’il a d’avoir En tout le monde entierement N’i fust alez, mais vraiement Esperence le conduisoit, Qui ad ce faire le duisoit. Si s’en ala a grant eslais Droit devant le triste palais D’enfer ou mainte ame dolent Pleure, souspire, et se demente. A l’entree de ce passage Trois dames ot, pleinnes de rage, Et s’estoient si grans maistresses Qu’elles s’appelloient deesses, L’une d’orgueil, l’autre d’envie, L’autre de toute tricherie. La leur crins serpentins pingnoient Et d’autre chose ne servoient Que d’elles pingnier et trecier, Et toutes ames adrecier Faisoient en l’infernal flame Qui toudis art et toudis flame. Orpheüs, qui sa harpe avoit, Et qui seur tous chanter savoit Et de tous genres de musique Avoit le sens et la pratique, Et en fu plus souverein mestre Que home né, ne qui fust a nestre, Sa harpe acorda sans delay Et joua son dolereus lay Et chanta de vois douce et seinne, De si grant melodie pleinne Qu’a sa vois, qu’a ses instrumens Fist cesser d’enfer les tourmens. Car les infernaus s’esjoïrent De la douceur quant il l’oïrent. J’ay son lay maintes fois veü Et l’ay de chief en chief leü, Mais plus ne contient fors q’il prie Qu’il rait Erudice s’amie. Aussi fort de li te puis dire: Par la grant douceur de sa lire Les nimphes des bois le sievoient, Et les grans arbres s’enclinoient Prés de lui pour lui escouter. Assés t’en porroie conter, Car de tous genres a grant nombre Y venoient pour lui faire umbre. Les sers et les bestes sauvages Le sievoient par les boscages. Les rivieres aler faisoit Encontremont quant li plaisoit Pour son chant oïr et sa harpe, Qui doucement resonne et harpe. La ot mainte larme plouree En la tenebreuse valee Des ames qui entroublierent Leur peinnes dou chant qu’escouterent. Aussi li roys des infernaus Getta jus craus et gouvernaus, Et se cessa, pour la merveille, Que plus les ames ne traveille. Trop s’en merveille Proserpine, Qui d’enfer est dame et roïne, Que li rois infernaus ravit En .i. vergier ou il la vit, Ou elle cueilloit des flourettes Avecques pluseurs pucelettes. Mais un po laissier ma matire Vueil, pour toy dire tire a tire Comment ot ceste roiauté Prosperine pour sa biauté De Typhoeüs, de Venus, Et pourquoy Pluto fu venus Pour enserchier et pour veoir S’enfers voloit fondre ou cheoir. Je te di que Typhoeüs Fu uns jaians trop deceüs, Que dechacier volt par sa guerre Les dieus dou ciel et de la terre. Mais li dieu si fort s’en courcierent Que crueusement s’en vangierent. Ne fu adjournez ne semons, Eins fu mis entre .iiij. mons Trop pesans et trop mervilleus. Tout enmi fu li orguilleus, Qu’il voloit les diex desprisier, Et li plus que eaus faire prisier. Trinatris avoit seur son chief, Qui li faisoit trop de meschief; L’autre aus piez, le tiers a senestre, Et le quart estoit a son destre. La fu li chetis si estrains, Si tourmentez et si destrains Qu’il savoit bien qu’il avoit tort. La se bestourne et se detort, Si que les .iiij. mons escrosle, Dont li rois d’enfer de ce crosle Ot tel paour que tout en l’eure Sus trois chevaus plus noirs que meure Yssi hors de sa mansion Pour faire visitation S’il avoit crevace ou fendure En murs de l’infernal closture, Pour ce qu’il y vuet pourveoir S’il y puet nul deffaut veoir. La court et par mons et par vaus Pluto sus ses faëz chevaus Sans frein, sans culiere, et sans bride. C’est horreur dou veoir et hide. Venus, qui estoit prés de la, Son dous ami chier appella, Qu’elle baisoit et acoloit (Autre plaisence ne voloit) Si li a dit moult doucement: “Amis, dessous le firmament N’a creature qui t’eschape, Tant ait cours draps, ne longue chape. Tuit congnoissent ta grant puissance, Et tuit te font oubeïssance. Vesla Pluto, le dieu d’enfer, Qu’est plus dur et plus noir que fer. Moustre li ce que tu sces faire, Car il est de si put affaire Que signeur ne te vuet clamer. Amis, je te pri, fai le amer.” Cupido entent sa requeste, Si li ottroie et tost s’apreste Pour traire au dieu une saiette De trop grant force et trop bien faite. Cupido ha pris l’arc turquois; La saiette trait dou carquois, Qui fu tranchans et affilee, Longue, droite, et bien empanee. La saiette mist en la coche, Moult fort tire et elle descoche. Le dieu d’enfer tel cop en baille Que tout droit parmi la coraille Li a mis le fer et le fust. Cheüs fust se si fors ne fust. Or est Pluto enamourez, Mais la n’est gueres demourez, Eins va et vient et court et serche. Partout fait son cerne et sa serche. Tant est alez les saus menus Qu’il est en Parguse venus. Parguse, c’estoit .i. vergier Si bel, si gent, qu’a droit jugier Il n’estoit lieus plus delitables. Printemps y estoit pardurables. Tuit cil qui sont et ont esté En .xxiiij. jours d’esté Ne te diroient les delis Dou vergier, tant estoit jolis, Et pleins d’odeur plaisant et fine. La fu la belle Prosperpine, Qui cueilloit o ses compaingnettes Roses, esglentiers, violettes. Mais si tost com Pluto la vit, Il l’ama et si la ravit. Prosperpine a haute vois crie: “Aïe, dieus! Aïe! Aïe! Ha, Cerés, deesse de blee, Je suis tollue et emblee! Helas! Mere, que devenray? Certes jamais ne te verray!” Pluto s’en va grante aleüre, Mais ne va trot ne ambleüre, Eins samble que ce soit la foudre. Il fait entour lui si grant poudre Qu’elle vole jusqu’a la nue. Prosperpine a enmi tenue, Qu’il ne vuet pas que l’en la voie. Il scet bien la plus droite voie, Les estans dou souffre a passez, Et d’autres mauvais pas assez. Dyane, qui vit la merveille, Moult li desplaist, moult se merveille De Dis, qui la deese en porte, Qui moult se pleint et desconforte. Dyane laissa sa fonteinne Et s’escria a haute alainne: “Dis, tu ne l’en porteras mie! Tu l’as mauvaisement ravie. Je te deffendrai le passage, Car tu es sus mon heritage. Laisse moy tantost la pucelle!” Quant Dis entendi la nouvelle, Ses chevaus hastë et son erre, Et durement, sans mot dire, erre. Vers les estans de Sicanie A Pluto sa voie acueillie. Dyane li volt contrester, Mais ne le pot pas arrester, Car li maufez, que Diex maudie, Sot trop de mal et de boidie. L’iaue fiert, et la terre s’uevre. Par la vuet achever son ouevre, Car ce fu sa voie et s’entree En la tenebreuse valee. La Prosperpine d’aventure Perdi ses fleurs et sa seinture, Que cheï enmi la fonteinne, Qui moult fu douce, clere, et seinne, Mais la fonteinne en devint trouble, Dont Dyane si fort se trouble, Et pour la deesse ravie, Que par larmes fina sa vie. Cerés la sainture trouva, Qui sa fille en mains lieus rouva, Et ce fu la premiere enseigne Qui Prosperpine li enseigne. Je ne te puis mie tout dire Ce qui est de ceste matyre: Comment Cerés par toute terre Sa fille ala serchier et querre; Comment elle escommenia Sicanie et quanqu’il y a; Comment les bestes des charrues Faisoit morir parmi les rues Et destruisoit tout labourage; Comment dou roy d’enfer l’outrage Li fist savoir Arethusa; Comme Elchalaphus encusa Prosperpine, qu’il vit mengier Dou fruit d’enfer en un vergier; Comment elle fust retournee, S’elle n’en fust desjeünee. Mais je t’ay compté la rapine Que Pluto fist de Proserpine, Si com l’istoire le raconte. Or vueil revenir a mon compte. Tantalus, qui la muert de soy, Et s’a l’iaue d’encoste soy, Sa soif et sa peinne entroublie Pour la tres douce melodie Dou bon pouëte qui enchante Tout enfer quant il harpe et chante. D’Ysion la roe repose, Qui est si dolereuse chose, Qu’entour sont roes tous ardans Et li las est dessous adans. Et a Sisiphus point ne grieve La grant roche pesant et grieve. Et Tycïus, qui son entraille Et son jusier aus voutoirs baille, Oublia sa male aventure, Ni li voutoir n’en orent cure, Pour la harpe oïr et le son De son chant et de son arson. Les beles Dyanes geterent Jus les tamis qu’elles porterent, Et leurs seaus qui sans fons sont; Moult se grievent et riens ne font, Qu’elles ne cessent de puisier Pour l’eaue fuitive espuisier. Mais elles perdent bien leur peinne, Qu’adés est comble la fonteinne. Ce sont les .iij. filles Belli. Plus n’en di, mais n’i a celi Qui face jamais autre chose, Ne qui plus jamais se repose. Brief, d’enfer toutes les roïnes Plouroient larmes serpentines, Ce qu’onques mais ne fu veü. Et ce si forment esmeü Ha le dieu de la chartre obscure Qu’il fist mander grant aleüre Erudice, et si la rendi Au pouëtte, qui l’atendi. Mais ce fu par .i. tel couvent, Que Orpheüs dut aler devant, Celle aprés, et s’il resgardoit Darriere lui, il la perdroit. Mais amours, qui les cuers affole, Et desirs, ou pensee fole, Li fist derrier li resgarder, Et Erudice, sans tarder, S’en fuï en la chartre horrible, Qui trop est hideuse et penible, Et des ses yex s’esvanuï. Orpheüs aprés li fuï, Mais c’est niant, bien puet savoir Que jamais ne la puet ravoir. N’i vaut riens chose qu’il argue, Car il l’a a tous jours perdue. Nompourquant li fols retourna Et .vij. jours entiers sejourna Devant la dolereuse porte, Qu’il n’est homs qui riens li aporte. Sa soif estanche de son plour, Et sa faim païst de sa dolour. Mais la puet assez demourer, Assez puet braire, assez plourer, Et pleindre soy tant qu’il vorra, Que jamais ne la reverra. Si que de la se departi En moult grief et moult dur parti, Et laist Erudice la clope, Et s’en retourna en Redope, Et devint homs de tel affaire Q’ne le vueil mie retraire, Car li airs corront et empire De parler de si vil matyre. Mais onques puis ne volt clamer Dame amie, ne femme amer. Dont les dames de Cyconie, Pour itant que leur druerie Ne volt avoir, le lapiderent. Car dars et lances li getterent, Pierres, caillos, et roches dures; En ce mirent toutes leurs cures. Mais li poëtes, qui chantoit, Les roches dures enchantoit, Si que nul mal ne li faisoient, Mais devant li s’amolioient. Lors les femmes, que Diex maudie, Feïrent trop grant renardie, Car elles feïrent ensamble Si tres grant noise, ce me samble, Qu’on ne pot oïr le chanter Qui les roches sot enchanter, Et la failli l’enchantement Qui vint de son dous chantement. N’onques puis chanson ne chanta, Bois ne rivieres n’enchanta; Einsois le poëtte divin Fu la mors et gettez souvin. Les nimphes dou bois le plourerent Parfondement, et moult l’amerent, Et de tous les arbres les genres, Les grans, les moiens, et les menres, Et les rivieres ensement Le plourerent parfondement Et si qu’elle en furent tourblees, Et acreües et plus lees. Je ne te puis mie tout dire: Que devint son chief et sa lire; Et comment Phebus le sauva Dou fier serpent qui le trouva; Et comment son ame en enfer Ala, et comment Lucifer D’Erudice la compaignie Li bailla, sa femme et s’amie, Car ce seroit a reciter Trop longue chose et a diter. Mais selonc la poëterie, Telle fu sa mort et sa vie. Cuides tu se Orpheüs sceüst Que Erudice avoir ne deüst, Qu’il se fust mis en aventure D’entreprendre voie si dure? Nennil! Mais Espoirs l’i mena Qu’i si bonnement s’en pena Qu’il heüst son fait achevé S’amours ne li heüst grevé. Si qu’amis fay, que qu’il avengne, Qu’Esperence adés te compeingne, Car c’est la milleur compaingnie Qu’a cuer puist estre acompaingnie. Quant Paris ala querre Heleinne, Dont il endura moult de peinne, Yl y ala en esperence D’avoir s’amour et s’acointence. Et quant si tres bele la vit, Par le gré d’elle la ravit Ou temple Juno la deesse. Venus li bailla sa promesse Que elle li avoit promise, Quant seur li fu la cause mise Pour donner la pomme doree Que Discorde avoit aportee Aus .iij. deesses de valour, L’une de scens, l’autre d’amour, L’autre de richesse ou d’avoir. Chascune la voloit avoir, Mais Venus tant le sermonna Que li pastouriaus li donna, Dont toute Troie fu destruite, Et tuit li sien mort ou en fuite, Et il meïsmes en fu mors, Dont Heleinne ot meint dur remors, Et ploura meinte larme amere O Ecuba, sa chiere mere. Paris entre lui et sa gent L’en menerent par mer nagent A Troie, ou fu sa mansion Dedens le chastel d’Ylion. Cuides tu, se Paris pensast Que dame Heleinne le tensast Ne qu’a s’amour deüst faillir, Qu’il la fust alee assaillir? Nennil! Mais quant pas ne failli, Je di qu’espoirs moult li vali, Qu’espoir, ymagination Font le cas — c’est m’entention — Et les besongnes miex en viennent A tous ceaus q’en bien les tiennent. Quant Herculés se combati Atheleüs, qu’il abati Pour la bele Deyamire, (Q’estoit tant belle, a droit dire, Qu’autre dame ne damoiselle N’estoit si gente ne si belle), Atheleüs avoit maniere Tele qu’en une grant riviere Se muoit ou en .i. serpent Qui tenoit de terre .i. erpent, Ou tor sauvage se faisoit Toutes les fois qu’il li plaisoit Si se mua en .i. fier tor. Herculés par le destre cor Le prist et si fort le hacha Qu’il li rompi et arracha, Dont Atheleüs desconfis Fu, et son cor pris et confis. Les Naiadïennes le prirent, D’espices et de fleurs l’emplirent, Et de pommes, si l’en porterent, Et puis si le sacrefierent Et le tenoient a l’office Quant faisoient leur sacrefice. Et scez que Herculés devint? Il vesqui des ans plus de vint En si grant saut, en si grant bruit Que tous li mondes de li bruit. Mais la belle Deyamire Le fist morir a grant martyre, Nom pas malicieusement, Einsois le fist ignoranment Par la chemise envenimee Qui li fu d’elle presentee. Nessus estoit .i. sagittaire Que Herculés occist a traire Si qu’il fu a sa mort tendant. A la belle fist entendant Que tant come il la vestiroit, Par amours autre n’ameroit. Et la belle qu’amours affole Fu deceüe comme fole Que, pour croire son anemi, Perdi Herculés son amy. Mais Herculés ne se tint mie A li, eins fist une autre amie Qu’il ama, une damoiselle Qu’on clamoit Yolaim la belle, Et tant l’ama, c’est chose voire, Qu’il en perdi scens et memoire, S’onneur, et sa chevalerie. Lors de si mortel jalousie Deyamire fu esprise Que li envoia la chemise Par Licas, qui en roche dure Fu muëz (encor en mer dure). Herculés einsi s’en vanja, Mais puis ne but ne ne menja, Eins fu mors et deïfiez Par les diex et glorefiez. Cuides tu que Herculés peüst Avoir, s’Esperence n’eüst, Si belle et si noble victoire? Je ne di pas qu’on doie croire Qu’Esperence dou tout le face, Mais elle conforte et solace Et donne cuer et hardement Par tout ou elle est vraiement. Et aussi estoit la presente La douce ymage cointe et gente De la bele Deyamire, Ou Herculés souvent se mire. Aussi bien te pues tu mirer En ton ymage et remirer Sa grant biauté, son cointe atour, Et son gentil corps fait a tour, Et esperer qu’encor sera Li bons jours qu’elle te fera Joie par parole et par fait De cuer fin, loial, et parfait. Mais, pour chose que je te die, Garde toy bien que t’estudie Soit adés tout premierement En servir Dieu devotement, Qu’il n’est amour qui se compere A s’amour, foy que doy saint Pere, Ne chose, tant soit pure, en monde, Ne que riens contre tout le monde, Ou comme une ymage en pointure Contre une vive creature. Encor te dirai un confort Ou moult durement me confort, Et tu t’i dois bien conforter En l’oïr, et en deporter, Se un petit me vues escouter. Je te vueil prouver et conter Que ta prise est pour ton millour, Ton bien, ton profit, et t’onnour. On dit souvent parmi la ville, Et le tient on pour euvangile (Pluseurs fois l’ay oï debatre) Qu’il te faloit l’un des ces quatre, Se tu nous fusses demourez: Car tu fusses deshonnourez, Mors, ou pris, ou que la bataille Venquisses, et c’estoit sans faille Une moult forte chose a faire, Qui bien considere l’affaire, Car les gens d’armes a grans routes S’en alerent, et nom pas toutes, Car li preudomme demourerent Et tuit li autre s’en alerent. La fu pris li bons rois de France, Qui ot tel cuer et tel constance Qu’onques Judas Machabeüs, Hector ne Cesar Julius, Alixandre ne Charlemainne, Qui tint l’empire en son demainne, Godefroy de Buillon, ne Artus, Ayaus, Achillés, Troïllus, Gauvains, Tristans, ne Lancelos, Rolans, n’Ogiers — bien dire l’os — Guillaume, Oliviers, ne Pompee N’orent si tres bonne journee, Ne ne firent tant comme il fist. En .i. jour trop en desconfist, Mais seuls ne pooit pas souffire Pour tout le monde desconfire, Qu’entour lui furent pris et mort Sa gent de moult piteuse mort, Et il pris: c’est pitez et diex. Or pri devotement que Diex Et sa mere le nous ramaint, Et que pacïence li maint, Einsi comme je le desir De bon cuer et de vrai desir. Mais il couvient que je te prueve Ce que je t’ay dit, sans contrueve. Miex te vausist vif enfouïr Ou .x. fois morir que fuïr, Car tu fusses deshonnourez Se tu ne fusses demourez. Et se mors fusses en la place, Diex t’ehust fait honneur et grace. Et s’il avenist que pris fusses, Certes jamais joie ne heüsses, Car tu fusses si fort pilliez, Si destruis, et si essilliez, Qu’on te demandast .x. fois plus Que n’eüsses, et au seurplus De ton tans perdisses la rose, Qui ne m’est pas petite chose. Eins me samble la riens, sans feindre, Que tu deüsses plus fort pleindre; Ou tu fusses par aventure Toute ta vie en tel ordure, Ou par une .xx.ne d’ans. Miex te vaurroit tirer les dans Ou tu yes (einsi je le te prueve Et qui bien estat, ne se mueve), Ou tu fusses en Engleterre En prison sous clef et sous serre, Ne peüsses venir n’aler, Et n’eüsses a qui parler Se n’apreïsses le langage En ta prison et en ta cage. Mais ce n’est pas chose legiere De l’apenre en tele maniere. La ne trouvasses verité, Equité, raison, ne pité, Plaisence, amour, fors le contraire De tout ce qu’on te deüst faire. Tout ce pues veoir clerement Par vray et juste experiment, Car maint en sont mat et perdu, Honni, destruit, et esperdu D’estat, d’onneur, et de chevense. Et maint de ceste pestilence Sont mort, dont leur hoïr tel seront Que jamais ne reverdiront, Dont c’est grans dues et grans damages. Mais c’est la guise et li usages Dou temps qui court presentement, Car on le voit communement. Si qu’il ne t’est pas mescheü, Eins di qu’il t’est tres bien cheü, Et que c’est ton bien et t’onnour Quant tu es pris de tel signour Qui te fera droit et justise, Et grace s’a li est requise. Encor te vueil je sermonner, Et un autre conseil donner. Bien croy que tu eschaperas Briefment, ou delivrés seras A honneur, et Diex le t’otroie, Car, par m’ame, je le vorroie. Je te pri que tu te meinteingnes En tel maniere, ou que tu veingnes, Qu’onneur et honnesté toudis En tous tes fais, en tous tes dis Aies et en cuer et en bouche, Car c’est villenie et reproche, Et deshonneur certeinnement De parler deshonnestement. Pour Dieu, ne soies variables, Mais justes, fermes, et estables, Autant pour toy com contre toy, Et n’oublie pas mon chastoy, Car ce affiert trop bien a personne Qui vuet que Dieus honneur li donne. Tu ne dois c’un seul mot avoir, Mais riens ne dois dire que voir Car tes paroles escoutees Seront plus qu’autres et notees. Soies liés et abandonnez, Et partout soit li tiens donnés De tres bon cuer et volentiers, Qu’autrement n’est li dons entiers Qu’onques princes, pleins d’avarice, Ne fu vaillans, c’est trop grant vice. Ne te doubte d’avoir finance, Car l’onneur avec la chevence Te venra se tu le dessers. Et se tu ta richesse sers, C’est trop honteuse servitute. Et saches, biaus amis, que tu te Honnis et més a deshonneur. Fi de richesse sans honneur! Mais honneur est bien sans richesse, Et certes, c’est plus grant noblesse D’avoir honneur et povres estre Que sans honneur estre grant mestre Et avoir d’or une grant somme. Nompourquant je di, c’est la somme, N’est richesse qui honneur vaille. Honneur est grains; richesse est paille. Dont qui a honneur, il est riches, N’il ne doit or prisier .ij. chiches Qu’il ne puet avoir nul deffaut, Qu’onneur demeure et avoir faut. Pren garde au bon roy de Behaingne, Qui en France et en Alemaingne, En Savoie et en Lombardie, En Dannemarche et en Hongrie, En Pouleinne, en Russe, en Cracoe, En Masouve, en Prusse, en Letoe Ala pris et honneur conquerre. Il donnoit fiez, joiaus, et terre, Or, argent; riens ne retenoit Fors l’onneur; ad ce se tenoit. Et il en avoit plus que nuls. Des bons fu li mieudres tenus. De son bien tous li cuers me rit, Et pour ce aussi qu’il me nourrit. Il ne pooit estre lassez De donner, et s’avoit assez Toudis quelque part qu’il venist. Et par ma foy, s’il avenist Qu’il heüst .ij. .c. mille livres, Il en fust en .i. jour delivres, Qu’a gens d’armes les departoit, Et puis sans denier se partoit. Je le say bien, car je l’ay fait Plus de .i. fois de fait. Je ne di pas en si grant somme Com dessus le devise et somme. Einsois le di par aventure. Briefment, il n’avoit d’argent cure, Ne riens qu’onneur ne desiroit. La ses cuers seulement tiroit. S’il avoit une cote grise De drap de Pouleinne ou de Frise, Et .i. cheval tant seulement, Il li souffissoit hautement. Il n’avoit pas tous ses aviaus, Car souvent mengoit des naviaus, Des feves, et dou pain de soile, D’un haran, d’une soupe a l’oile Par deffaut de bonne viande. Et si te respon sans demande Qu’il n’avoit tapis ne courtine, N’autre chose qui encourtine Son lit, eins prenoit a l’ostel Ce qu’il trouvoit. Onques n’ot tel Ou munde, ne si patient. De riens n’estoit impatient. Et s’il estoit en bonne ville Ou en lieu pour le fairë, il le Trouvast, c’estoit tout despendu, Tout donné et tout respandu. Mais il s’aisoit en sa maison Si que miex ne s’aisa mais hom. Mais je te jur et te prommet Qu’il estoit en si haut sommet D’onneur qu’il n’avoit si haut homme Voisin, ne l’empereur de Romme, Que s’il li vosist mouvoir guerre Ou faire qu’il ne l’alast querre Tout en milieu de son païs. N’estoit pas de ses gens haïs, Car chascuns l’amoit et servoit Pour ce que bien le desservoit. Et adés si bien se chevi Qu’onques encor signeur ne vi Qui telle force avoir peüst Qu’en sa terre une nuit geüst. Que fist il premiers en Behaingne? Que qui s’en loe ou qui s’en plaingne, Par force d’armes et d’amis En subjection les a mis. Comment qu’il li fussent rebelle Tuit, mais il gaaingna la querelle, Et maintes fois se combati, Dont maint grant orgueil abati. Aprés ce vint a Esselingne, Une ville qu’est en Duringne. La l’ordre ot de chevalerie Et a moult noble compaingnie Se combati par tel maniere Eu milieu d’une grant riviere Q’l’eaue en fu vermeille et teinte Une demi lieue d’enseinte. Mais ses annemis desconfit A s’onneur et a son profit. De la s’en ala en Baiviere Et a desploïe baniere Et compaingnie noble et riche Desconfit le duc d’Osteriche. Mais il le prist par la ventaille A force dedens la bataille, Et le mena a Bruguelis, Son chastel, ou n’a fleur de lis Car il y fait froit en esté. Bien le say, car je y ay esté. Le rois se dut loer de Mars, Car il en ot cent mille mars Et pluseurs forteresses bonnes, Qui de Behaingne sont les bonnes. De la s’en ala en Pouleinne, Et la conquist a moult grant peinne. Aussi conquist il Breselau, Qui estoit le duc Boselau, Et .xiij. dus qui tout hommage Le firent par son vasselage. Je le vi, pour ce le tesmong, Car partout en seray tesmong. Bien .x. ans roys s’en appella Et puis il s’en ala de la Droit eu roiaume de Cracoe Et par les glaces en Letoe. Crestienner fist en une ville Des mescreans plus de sis mille. Li lieus avoit nom Medouagle, Et ne tien pas que ce soit fable Qu’encor prist il .iiij. fortresses, Qui dou païs furent maistresses: Xedeytain et Gedemine, Gegusë, Aukahan; et si ne Demoura la homme ne fame Qui ne perdist le corps et l’ame; Ne riens qui demourast en vie, Maugré le can de Tartarie, A qui Letoe est tributaire. Et encor leur fist tel contraire Qu’il leur gasta plus de païs Qu’il n’a de Bruges a Paris. Car presens fui a ceste feste. Je le vi des yex de ma teste. Puis fu il par .ij. fois en Prusse, A moult grant honneur, et en Russe. Aprés conquist en Lombardie Parme, Rege, Mode, Pavie, Et jusques a .xij. citez. On scet bien que c’est veritez. Il fu sires de Pietrecent, Et de Luques, mais plus de cent, Voire de mil, tout a .i. sible, L’appelloient le roy paisible. Que fist il devant Basenouve, A Senouain et a Lendouve, Et devant La ou fu li Hongres A .c. mille hommes (c’est li nombres)? Trop fist de choses merveilleuses, Apertes, sages, perilleuses. Se toutes les voloie dire, Je ne les te porroie lire Ou compter en jour et demi. Et si n’ot onques annemi Qu’il ne chastiast par tel guise Que l’onneur en avoit acquise. Mais einsois qu’il finast sa vie, Par scens, par armes, par maistrie Fist que roy, duc, marquis, et conte Fist son fil, qui a droit le conte, Et le fist signeur de l’empire. De li ne pense or plus a dire, Fors qu’il a richesse a son oues. Si que, biaus amis, se tu vues Bien retenir ceste lesson, Au cuer t’en sera dous le son. De ce qu’il fist dessa le Rin Me taïs, car maint bon pelerin, Maint chevalier et mainte dame Scevent qu’il n’i ot point de blame. Garde seur tout ta loiauté; Ne soit laidure, ne biauté, Amour, ne faveur, ne haïne, Ne chose en monde qui t’encline A faire riens de desloial. Car trop messiet a cuer roial. Aussi seroit il en .i. homme Qui n’aroit vaillant une pomme, Mais en .i. prince est plus parent Qu’il n’est en son povre parent. Et s’aucuns te voloit sousquerre Ou mouvoir en ton païs guerre, Pren conseil a ceuls qui feront Tout ce qu’il te conseilleront, Car la chevense avec la vie Y va; pour ce ne doubte mie Qu’il ne te mesconsilleroient Pour rien, car il s’en honniroient. Ne fais pas clers tes consaus d’armes, Qui doivent prier pous les ames, Et doivent compter et escrire, Et chanter leur messes ou lire, Et consillier les jugemens Aus consaus et aus parlemens Si que tien chascun en son ordre Si bien qu’il n’i ait que remordre. Se tu sens que tes anemis Veingne, mande tous tes amis Et fai tantost ton mandement Si bien, si bel, si sagement Qu’nuls n’i sache qu’amender. Mais garde le contremander, Car li contremant dou roiaume Ont fait ardoir maint toit de chaume, Dont encor apperent les traces En mains leus et en maintes places. Et s’il faut que tu contremandes, Garde toy bien qu’a Dieu commandes, Et mercie tres humblement Ceuls que tu porras bonnement, Et leur offre chiens et oiseaus A chevaliers, a damoiseaus. Se tu as que donner, si donne; Se tu ne l’as, di a chiere bonne Que bien les guerredonneras, Et le fay quant aaisiez seras. S’einsi le fais, tuit t’ameront Et de bon cuer te serviront. Et se tu has guerre ou riote A ton voisin qui te riote, Saches premiers se tu has droit; Et se tu l’as, en tout endroit Te dois hardiement deffendre. Mais je te vueil dire et aprendre Que, pour despendre ta chemise, Ne met ton heritage en mise Pour cas qu’i te puist avenir, Qu’un autre le porroit tenir. Et s’il est que tu aies tort, N’aies pas le cuer si entort Qu’a toutes raisons ne te mettes, Et que tort ensus de ti gettes. Somme le tant, fai li tant d’offres Qu’on voie par ce que tu offres Qu’il n’a mie droit s’il s’excuse Dou prendrë et s’il le refuse. Deffen toy bien et baudement S’il t’assaut, et certeinnement Je croy qu’en ce droit t’aidera Diex, et qu’il le confundera, Car cils qui fait ce qu’il ne doit, Il li vient ce qu’il ne vorroit. Et s’il est qu’on pregne astinences, Trieves, ou aucunes souffrances, Pour Dieu ne les vueilliez brisier. Trop t’en feroies desprisier, Car vraiement, c’est traïson, Et me doub que la vengison N’en prenist Diex, nostre Signeur, En corps, en biens, et en honneur. Et s’il avient que tu t’embates En tel lieu ou tu te combates, Et que Diex te donne victoire, Biaus amis, ne t’en donne gloire, Mais loe Dieu, car de li vient, Nom pas de toy. Et s’il avient Que tu prengnes tes anemis, Ne soient plus feru ne mis Villeinnement, mais a franchise Te conseille, sans couvoitise, Si que homs ne puist apercevoir Que tu ne faces ton devoir, Car contre honneur fait et mesprent Qui leur meffait puis qu’il les prent. Gentilment fay ce qu’en feras, Et encor le retrouveras, Car bonté faite autre requiert, Et ce li mestiers d’armes quiert. Et s’il est que desconfis soies Et que tes gens mors et pris voies, Ja soit ce que li cuers t’en dueille, Garde que ton oueil ne s’en mueille, Car c’est maniere de commere Qui doit plourer l’ame sa mere. Pren bon conseil et par avis Fay ton fait, car il m’est avis Que la congnoist on la vaillance D’un prince mieus et sa prudence, Qu’en cas qui li puist avenir, Ne la victoire appartenir Ne puet a la desconfiture, Ne tant n’i faut scens et mesure, Soit a combatre ou a retraire. Mais tu dois ceste chose faire, Se tu pues, a ton avantage Par maniere honnorable et sage. Encor faut il que je t’aprengne Le dit au bon roy de Behaingne. Il disoit que prince a toute heure Soit pour la guerre a son desseure Et a son dessous au tournoy, Dont mais parler a ce jour n’oy. Mais riens ne prisoit grant puissance, Ne gens d’armes sans ordenance, Et qui des chiés entierement N’estoient en commandement. Cuides tu par grant assamblee Avoir d’armes haute journee Se de tes hommes n’ies amez? Nennil! Tels est sires clamez Qu’il ne l’est pas de son païs Car de ses hommes est haïs. Si qu’amis, fai par toute voie Que tu sambles l’oisel de proie, Qui vuet le cuer tant seulement. Se les cuers as, legierement Aras le corps et la chevance, Dont honneur aras et vaillance, Car riens n’aront qu’il ne te baillent, Et tuit morront eins q’l te faillent. Mais cuides tu, pour estre eschars, Pour garder tes vins et tes chars, Ton or, ton argent, tes jouiaus, Tes robes a dorés nouiaus, Tes destriers, tes courciers, tes selles, Aquerir les victoires belles? Nennil! N’i met mie t’estude, Car le sens aroies trop rude. Mais douceur, franchise, largesse, Diligence, amour, hardiesse, D’onneur et de victoire don Te feront; c’est biau guerredon. Et se ti annemi si fort Sont qu’il gisent par leur effort, Maugré toy, dedens ton païs, Ne soies pas si esbahis Pour riens qui te puist avenir Que paroles faces tenir De traitié, de pais, ou de trieves. Y te vaurroit mieus estre a Trieves Ou a Romme, sans revenir. Laisse Fortune couvenir Qu’aprés seur eaus chevaucheras Plus fort. Einsi t’en vengeras. Mais l’onneur seroit trop blecie Et doublee ta villenie Se tu estoies en traitié Avec eaus d’aucune amitié Puis qu’il yroient mal traitant Toy et ton païs en traitant. Mais se ti anemi d’acort Sont d’eaus retraire, bien m’acort, Euls retrais, que hardiement Tu traites bien et sagement. Se ton bon y vois, si le pren. Mais je te conseil et t’apren Que, comment que li traitiez prengne, Que ton fait a l’onneur se teigne, Qu’onneur crie partout et vuet: “Fais que dois, aveigne que puet.” Aussi le vuet li mestiers d’armes. Fai le adés dont, et quant tu t’armes, Et ne croy homme dou contraire, Qu’einsi le doit tout prince faire S’il n’est tels qu’il mette a .i. conte Et a un pris honneur et honte. Et se tu n’as de guerre point, Tu pues mettre dou tien a point, Bien acquis, et non autrement, Pour servir bien et richement Tes bons amis, s’il ont a faire; Ou de hors dou païs vues traire, Et aler en estrange terre Honneur et vasselage acquerre, Soit en Castelle ou en Grenade (Qui est une voie moult sade), En Alemaingne, en Rommenie, Ou en Prusse, ou en Lombardie, Plus priveement t’aideras Dou tien que ne l’emprunteras. Mais je te pri, quoy qu’on te die, Pren la milleur chevalerie De quoy tu porras recouvrer, Ne qu’on porra pour or trouver. Soit prés, soit long, fai que tu l’aies, Et se tu l’as, pas ne t’esmaies Qu’avoir puisses confusion. Pren toutes gens d’election, Et ne te charge de merdaille. Car il n’est tresors qui riens vaille, Car c’est l’onneur, l’estat, la vie D’un prince a tele compaignie. Et certes, li uns en vaut .iiij., Soit a conseil, soit a combatre. Soit au sejour, soit a la peinne, Chascuns de mieus faire se peinne. N’on ne les puet en guise mestre Qu’onneur ne facent a leur mestre. Bien fait qui de tels gens se hourde. Je te di voir, qui que te bourde, Et t’amentoy ce qu’on doit faire, Car je ne me puis des bons taire. Se tu as ci dessus leü, Je les t’ay ja ramenteü. Et se tu prens gens de niant, Tu te pers tout a essient, Qu’assés plus de bien gasteront Que li bon n’en despenderont. Dont par eaus seras diffamez, Et meins prisiez et meins amés, Povres, chetis, et mendians. S’il te tiennent en leurs lians, Ne mais ne passera ta porte Honneur, eins sera pour toy morte. Se tu t’armes, en aventure Seras d’estre a desconfiture; Car teles gens ne doubtent honte, Et si ne scevent qu’onneur monte. S’il te meschiet, ne te saroient De riens aidier, qu’il ne porroient. Si q’amis, soies sus ta garde Encontre tels gens et t’en garde, Qu’on doit a son oueil mettre a l’erbe Qu’on congnoist et qui pas n’enherbe. Aies toudis bonnes espies, Que qu’il couste, et ou tu te fies, Et les paie si largement Qu’il te servent hardiement Par quoy tu saches le couvine Des annemis. Ceste doctrine Est la chose plus neccessaire Que je congnoisse en ton affaire; Car je te promet et t’affie Que mieus vaut une bonne espie Qui fait son fait seürement C’un advocat en parlement; Qu’on ne puet, sans bien espier Ses anemis bien guerrier. Mais princes qui scet bien qu’il font, Il s’onneure et si les confont, Car il a toudis l’avantage, S’il a cuer, scens, ou vasselage. Se tu pues sentir ou veoir Que tes anemis asseoir En bourc, en chastel, ou en ville Te vueillent, aies tant de guille Qu’adés aies la clef des chans S’orras des oisillons les chans. Et ne te laisse par .i. siege, Einsi comme un leu, penre au piege. Et se tu y vues demourer, Y te couvient sans demourer Yssir a plain et toy combatre Pour ton heritage debatre, Ou ton honneur n’i seroit mie. Tien donc la plus seinne partie, Car je te jur et asseür Qu’estre hors est le plus seür, Le milleur, le plus honnourable: Et celi qui est plus grevable Aus annemis. De ce t’avis Sans plus, par maniere d’avis, Qu’il n’apartient en nulle guise Que uns princes en sa ville assise Soit, car il se doit pourchacier, Tant aler, venir, et tracier Qu’il puist lever ses annemis Par force d’armes et d’amis. Mais assis, il n’a de pourchas, Ne que li princes des eschas A qui on dit eschac et mat. Amis, garde toy de tel mat, Et ne te met a portion, Car ce seroit desrision, Qu’on ne scet en tele aventure Com longuement la chose dure. Et se voit on tout en appert Que une ville souvent se pert Par mal song ou par traïson, Par famine ou discention. Qui de ces .iiij. poins se garde En fort ville assise, il n’a garde: S’elle est de bonne gent garnie, D’engiens et d’autre artillerie. Se de ce y avoit defaut, On la porroit penre d’assaut. Et se Diex si ton fait adresse Que lieu pregnes ou fortresse Ou il ait dames, damoiselles, Bourgoises, filles, et pucelles, En nom de la vierge Marie A ton pooir ne sueffre mie Que de tiens soient violees, Corrompues, ne desflourees. Et se homme y a qui les efforce Ou qui les vueille penre a force, Fay justice, et on s’en tenra, Et par Dieu, grans biens t’en venra Car c’est deshonneur et grant honte A .i. prince qui tant s’ahonte Qu’il sueffre tels gens en sa route Et tel meffait, et ne fay doubte Qu’en ce cas en ta sauve garde Doivent estre. Amis, or les garde Et seur ce fay tel ordenance Que chascuns sache sa sentence, Et fay tant qu’elle soit tenue Ou elle est de nulle value. Et s’il y a femme qui gise, Soit tantost ton enseigne mise Seur le sommet de sa maison, Et en ce garde si raison Qu’il n’i ait home qui la touche De piet, ne de main, ne de bouche. Einsi le faisoit, dont j’en ri, Li bons fils l’empereur Hanri, Qu’en son ost n’estoit si hardis Qu’en ce ne fust acouardis Et que la teste ne perdist S’a femme efforcier s’aërdist. Aussi faisoit il autre chose Dont s’ame Dieus prise et alose, Et je le tesmongne encor tel Qu’onques en .i. pechié mortel Ne volt se couchier ne armer. Devoit on bien tel homme amer? Fai einsi, si feras que sages, Car c’est uns bons et biaus usages, Et cils qui a Dieu souvent compte, Il li rent bon et juste compte. Mais viez pechiés et vieilles debtes Font a Dieu compter a clugnettes, C’est a dire qu’il n’i voit goute. Non fait cils qui le compte escoute. Se tu as .ij. voisins ou .iij. Q’marchissent a tes destroit, Ne soiez mal des .iij. ensamble. Cils qui ce fait au fol ressamble. Mais se tu pues, soies bien d’eus, Au meins ou de l’un ou des .ij., Par quoy, se li tiers te menasse Q’petit doubtes sa menasse. Car se riches, puissans, et fors Sont, ce te sera grans effors. Einsi chascuns princes le fait, Qui bien vuet joïr de son fait. Et on dit adés, biaus amis: “De plus d’amis, meins d’anemis.” Mais encor te vueil aviser D’une chose ou moult dois viser, Si te pri que tu la reteingnes: Et que nullement ne desdeingnes Ton povre ou petit anemi, Car, foy que doy l’ame de mi, On en voit assez mescheoir. Et tu le pues assez veoir. Car il ne fera que veillier, Ymaginer, et soustillier Comment de lui grevez seras; Et tu riens ne le priseras Ne point ne seras seur ta garde, Si que tu ne t’en donras garde, Qu’il te porra tuer ou prendre. Et s’avient souvent que li mendre Ont plus de vaillence et d’onneur Que n’ont li prince et li signeur Qu’a ce neccessité les meinne, Si s’en mettent en plus grant peinne. Tu vois une plaie petite Dont on ne donroit une mitte. Quant cils qui l’a riens n’i aconte, Elle envenime et croist et monte Tant qu’on ne trueve si bon mire, Ne homme qui t’en sache que dire, Ne phisicien qui s’i congnoisse. S’en muert aucune fois d’engoisse. Einsi est il, se Diex me gart, De tout princë ou n’a regart A soy, quant en guerre se boute, Et qui son anemi ne doubte. Car je te promet, biaus amis, Qu’il n’est nuls petis anemis, Ne plaie aussi ou aconter Ne doiez. Oÿ l’ay compter. Or te pri que de ce te membres Et ne te joue de tes membres. Ne passe tant d’onneur les termes Que dedens ta chambre t’enfermes Pour homme qui veingne a ta court, Car renommee, qui tost court, Te diffameroit par tout, si que On diroit: “C’est une relique Qu’on ne voit c’une fois l’annee.” Pis en vaurroit ta renommee. Mais compaingne les chevaliers, Les gens d’armes, les escuiers, Et parle aus grans et aus petis (De ce ne soies alentis!) Et porte honneur a toutes femmes Soient damoiselles ou dames, Grandes, moiennes, ou petites. Garde que nulles n’en despites, Car plus d’onneur te porteras Qu’a elles quant tu le feras. Mengüe en ta sale souvent Et tien de tes gens le couvent, Qu’il leur souffist en ta presence Trop mieus et a meins de despense. Mais je te pris trop chierement (Q’ne croies legierement) Et que de garçons ne t’acointes Car c’est trop perilleus acointes, Et que tu t’armes volentiers, Car c’est tes souvereins mestiers. N’autre honneur n’as, n’autre scïence Qu’armes, dames, et conscïence. Fay toy servir par bonne gent Et leur donne de ton argent. Ou chose autre, s’i le desservent, Tant que plus loiaument te servent. De fol et d’ivre ne t’aproche, Car gent sont de si grant reproche Qu’il n’en porroit nul bien venir. Mais bien en puet mesavenir. Garde toy bien, quoy que tu dies, Q’de personne ne mesdies. Et s’on mesdit ou tu seras, En l’eure le rabateras. Car tels mesdit souvent d’autrui Qu’il a moult a mesdire en lui. Soies diligens et songneus, Qu’onques juenes hom paresseus Ne pot a haute honneur venir, Ne son heritage tenir, Qu’il n’en perde ou qu’on ne li tole. Tu yes tous les jours a l’escole Dou veoir par experience, Si te dois moult bien mirer en ce. Ne te laisse desheriter Pour riens qu’on te puist enditer, Car par ma foy, mieus ameroie, S’empereres ou rois estoie, Despendre tout en bonne guerre Qu’on me tollist .i. piet de terre, Car tout prince desherité Vit a honte et a grant vilté. Soies humbles, courtois, et frans, Et de tes bons amis souffrans Et crueus a tes annemis. Ja ne soies lens ne remis, Et ne te vange par tencier, Par parole, ou par menacier. Mais parle pou, fai ta besongne. Sages est qui einsi besongne. Mais encor supplier te vueil Que seur tout te garde d’orgueil, Car de tous vices c’est li pires, Et cils que plus het nostres Sires, Et si fait l’omme trebuchier, Et paresse le fait mendier. Se tu fais aucune sotie Et uns povres homs te chastie, Pour Dieu pren en gré son chastoy Tout aussi bien comme d’un roy, Et tien que de cuer t’amera Quant en secret te blasmera. Car qui doctrine ne reçoit En gré de tous, trop se deçoit. Et si n’est homs, tant soit parfais, Qui n’erre par dis ou par fais. Saches souvent la vois dou pueple, Quel parole de toy il pueple. S’elle est bonne, ren Dieu löange. S’elle est mauvaise, ne t’en vange, Car qui se vuet de tout vangier Son pain ne puet en pais mengier. Mais t’amende eins que on te somme, Si feras ouevre de preudomme. Se tu vues bien faire et bien vivre, Soies ordenez en ton vivre, Car mengier souvent et menu Ha fait que pluseur sont venu A leur mort; ne ce n’est pas vie De vivre en tel gourmanderie, Eins est vie de beste mue, Qui toudis runge et toudis mue. Qui ne se couche a heure et lieve, C’est une chose qui tant grieve Qu’on en haste souvent sa mort. Ne scet qu’il fait qui s’i amort, Qu’au meins est ce une si grant peinne Qu’on en pert couleur et aleinne Et Dieu servir et ses besongnes. Tu t’ocis s’en ce t’embesongnes. Que valent teles veilleries Et puis tels longues dormeries? Certes, onques bien ordonnez Ne fu qui ad ce fu donnez. Mais princes qui fort se traveille Et qui dou cuer et de l’ueil veille Pour ses anemis resveillier, La se doit il bien travillier. Et certes, ce n’est pas travail, Ce samble a moy, qui petit vail, Eins est repos qui renouvelle Honneur, qui porte tel nouvelle Que ses annemis trop aville Qui leur grieve a champ et a ville. Si que point ne travilleras Quant en ce faisant veilleras, Qu’onneur n’est — qui en veille, rie — Si fort comme en tel veillerie. Amis, ne fai pas tel outrage Com de brisier ton mariage, Car vraiement qui y enchiet, Dieus s’en couresse et l’en meschiet. Biaus amis, soiez si discrez Que tu ne dies tes secrez Ne chose que vueilles celer A personne qui reveler Le doie — nelui ne te nomme, Mais je n’exepte femme, ne homme. Ne je ne me porroie taire Que ne te mette en exemplaire Ton bon pere et ta bonne mere, Car c’est la riens qui plus te pere Et fait d’onneur que leur vaillance. Tant orent bonté et puissance Qu’onnneur si les embellissoit Que d’eaus tout bon et bel issoit. Aussi ti bon predecesseur Qui furent plus grant amasseur D’onneur, et trop plus en avoient Que nuls, resgarde qu’il faisoient Et tu feras tout le contraire De quanque tu vois ores faire. Il estoient honnestement De tres fin drap et richement Vestis, fourrez, et abilliez. Ne sambloient pas essilliez, Car de si grant magnificence N’estoit il nuls rois, sans doubtance, Ne que on deüst tant amer, Car deça mer et dela mer Couroit leur bonne renommee Et l’onnesté de leur contree. Il avoient, s’il leur plaisoit (Et miex qu’a autres leur loisoit) Robes riches et curïeuses, Pleinnes de pierres precïeuses, De rubiz, de saphirs, de pelles, Mais n’i acontoient .ij. melles, N’il ne metoient pas leurs cures En porter tels vesteüres. Or voy que li roy et li conte, Li prince et li duc n’ont pas honte De vestir .i. povre pourpoint Qui leur est fais trop mal a point. Plus n’en di qu’il n’apartient mie Que je des seigneurs chose die Qui leur puist ou doie desplaire. Mais il voient par exemplaire Des autres qui einsi le font Qu’onneur et honnestét deffont. Et quant il se vuelent parer, Il sont legier a separer De tous autres et de leur gent Car couvert sont d’or et d’argent, De pelles et de perrerie, Plus qu’image d’or entaillie. Mais leurs gens vestent si ensamble Que riens n’i a qui se ressamble, Car li uns est vestus de pers Qui en cuide estre plus apers. L’autre est entortillié de vert. Li autres a son corps couvert De camelin ou de fusteinne, De toile ou d’autre drap de leinne. L’autre l’est de noir ou de blanc. L’autre l’est plus rouge que sanc; Qui de jaune porte une bende; L’autre porte une houpelande, L’autre .i. pourpoint, l’autre .i. loudier. Plus n’en vueil dire ne plaidier, Mais tuit ont les sollers bescuz Et a chascun d’eaus pert li cuz. Mais se li signeur se voloient Ordener, tous les vestiroient De ce qu’il portent seur leur corps. Et encor est ce mes acors Qu’il soient vestu d’unité, Chascuns selonc sa qualité, Einsi le faisoient jadis Li bon qui sunt en paradis, Et se vestoient richement De fins dras, et honnestement. Pour ce je te pri, chiers amis, Qu’a ce tes cuers soit adés mis Que tu mainteingnes honnesté — Je l’ay ja amonnesté — Et que tu vueilles remirer Tes gens, et toy en eaus mirer. Car vraiement, pas ne foloie Cils qui par autrui se chastoi, Ne ja n’aras si bon chastoy Com celui que tu prens de toy. Qui penroit le plus vaillant homme Qui soit de Nantes jusqu’a Romme, Voire jusques a Cambelec, Ou dela jusqu’a l’Aubre Sec, S’eüst une robe entaillie D’or, d’argent, et de perrerie, La plus tres riche et la plus belle Qui fust en France, n’en Castelle, Et puis prenist .i. païsant De son grant, quoy qu’on voist disant, Leurs umbres seroient pareilles Plus que ne soient .ij. corneilles, Et fust vestus de camelin Ou d’un sac ou de drap de lin. Richesse n’i adjousteroit Plus ne meins, ne riens n’i feroit; Si qu’amis je t’ay en couvent Que ce n’est rien fors umbre ou vent. Et qui le fait pour lui prisier Ou pour lui plus auctorisier, Y fait mal, car si fole emprise Fait li homs, si tost qu’il se prise, Qu’il boute orgueil et vanité En sa povre fragilité. N’est ce chose plus honnourable Que tu voies devant ta table Tes chevaliers, tes escuiers, Tes clers, tes servans, tes mestiers Vestis ensamble en ordenance A la bonne guise de France, Que ce qu’il soient en tel guise Que chascuns einsi se desguise? Ne say comment on s’i consent, Car, certes, li uns en vaut cent. Je n’en di plus, mais c’est erreur Au monde et a Dieu grant orreur. Je te pri que tu te conseilles A bonnes gens et que tu veilles A faire le commun pourfit, Einsi com Boësses le fit, Et com maint philosophe firent Qui mainte doleur en souffrirent Et furent chacié en essil. L’escripture le dit, mais cil Qui ce faisoient, verité Destruisoit leur iniquité. Encor te lo et te conseil Que ne croies juene conseil, Car c’est uns si tres grans peris Com pour estre mors et peris. Se sage homme encien en ta terre N’as, si l’envoie en autre querre. Et ne te chaille qu’il te couste. N’i espargne riens, car sans doubte Il gaaingnera bien sa despense S’a tes besongnes de cuer pense. S’aucune chose t’abellit, N’i pren mie si grant delit Que tu en perdes tes besongnes. Garde qu’adés honte ressognes, Car princes qui ad ce s’assoque, Tous li mondes de li se moque, Aussi com de ces chasseries Au bois et de ce volerie, Car on y puet bien trop entendre. Ne di pas qu’on n’en doie prendre Quant on n’a mie trop a faire. Car c’est chose bien neccessaire. Bien say qu’il se couvient esbatre; Cela ne vueil je pas debatre. Mais il n’est nul esbatement Qui se puist penre nullement A celui qui son heritage Garde et s’onneur par vasselage, Aprés l’esbatement divin Qu’on fait de pain, d’eaue, et de vin. Je ne di pas qu’adés besognes, Mais saches comment tes besognes Yront, car trop mieus en vaurront. Aussi tes gens meins en faurront, Car princes qui ne fait de li Pert souvent et samble a celi Qui vuet que sa gent soient riche, Et il n’ait vaillant une miche. C’est une chiffre en angorime Qui ne congnoit rente ne disme. Et tes gens plus prés s’en penront Quant en tes besongnes venront, Et diront: “Mes sires savoir Vuet bien qu’on fait de son avoir.” Oy tes comptes diligemment Et par ce verras clerement Ce que tu pues par an despendre Et ou tu dois tes rentes prendre. Et saras se ti receveur Sont bonne gent ou deceveur. S’il sont bon, tu es assez sages Pour eaus bien paier de leurs gages. S’il sont mauvais, fai leur raison Sans faire point de desraison. Mais adés dois plus ta puissance Tourner a pité qu’a vengence. Ne pren de tes gens que tes rentes, Soit en blez, en cens, ou en ventes, Car se tu les vues escorchier, Mieus te vaurroit estre .i. porchier. N’asservi mie tes subjés, Car tu les dois tenir adés En leur droit et en leur franchise Qu’ont de toy et de tiens acquise. Et s’il meffont, si leur fay grace, Et s’il meffont, si leur fay grace, Et se tu fais forgier monnoie, Pour Dieu, fai la tele qu’on oie Dire qu’elle est de bon aloy. Car je te jur, par saint Eloy, Qu’il n’est chose, grant ne petite, Dont personne soit tant maudite Car chascuns la tient et manie, Si n’i a celui qui n’en die Sa maleïçon, bas ou haut, Quant on y trueve aucun deffaut, Sus les signeurs, sus les facteurs, Sus les vallés, sus les acteurs. Garde qu’aus povres soit ouverte Ta main a gaaing et a perte, Et Diex le te rendra a double, Adés pour .i. denier .i. double, Car le pechiét aumosne esteint, Si com l’iaue feu, quant l’ateint. Ne porte en ton cuer tel rançune A personne vivant que tu ne Pardonnes, remettes, effaces. Et s’il avient que tu le faces, Fai le de volenté si fine Qu’il n’i ait estoc ne racine Qui germe jamais, ou semence. S’il n’est einsi, qu’on recommence. Et qui bien recommenceroit, C’iert mal a point, qui le feroit, Car dou temps passé souvenir Ne doit, fors dou temps a venir Et dou present, qu’estre oubliees Doivent les rançunes passees. Sages est qui einsi pardonne, Car Diex honneur adés li donne, Et l’aime et garde et le deffent, Et villenie li deffent. Amis, garde toy de promettre Chose que tu ne vueilles mettre A effait, car cils qui promet A devoir s’oublige et sousmet. Et se tenir ne pues couvent, Excuse toy bien et souvent. Par ce point seras excusez Ou mains de ce fait accusez. Encor te pri je, biaus amis, Porte honneur a tes anemis De ta parole, qui po couste, Et si les ressongne et les doubte Tant qu’encontrë eaus te pourvoies Si que d’eaus asseürez soies. Mais garde bien qu’on n’en mesdie En ta presence, quoy qu’on die, Car c’est trop petite vengence, Ce m’est avis; et sans doubtance Qui en mesdit, ou fait mesdire Plus que ses anemis s’empire. Venge t’en par autre maniere, Sage, bonne, et a po de chiere. Garde te, amis, qu’aus dez ne joues Et que pas ton temps n’i aloues Car c’est chose trop deshonneste A prince qui quiert vie honneste. Car il ne vient pas de franchise, Eins est fondez seur couvoitise, Et s’i moustre on si sa maniere Que maint en parlent en derriere. Mais s’un petit t’i vues esbatre Joue .xx. gros ou .xxiiij. A dames et a pucelettes, De cuer et de pensee nettes. Et se tu gaaingnes leur argent, Donne le tantost a leur gent, Et le tien aussi, sans plus dire. Et se tu pers, n’en fai que rire. Ne couvoite pas l’eritage De ton voisin, et par haussage Ne l’aquier pas, car ce seroit Pechiez, qui einsi le feroit. Amis, se bien te vues veoir Fait tant qu’aies le mireoir D’onneur adés devant tes yex En tous estas et en tous lieus En tous fais et en toutes ouevres Et garde qu’onques ne le cuevres. Si qu’adés voies clerement D’onneur le bon enseingnement. La te resgarde, la te mire, La estudie, la te tire, La met cuer et corps et entente; La soit ton adresse et ta sente, Car de toutes les fleurs, c’est celle Qu’est la milleur et la plus bele. Qui l’a, il est, a mon devis, De quanqu’il li faut assevis. Et pour ce en ma conclusion Di que c’est la parfection Ou toute humeinne creature Doit plus tendre et mettre sa cure, Aprés la joie qui ne fine, Q’seur tout est plaisant et fine. Les vesves et les orphenins, Tant masculins com feminins, Et les eglises dois deffendre, Et si ne dois riens dou leur prendre; Car qui en ce vice encherra, Certeins sui qu’il li mescherra, Soit a la mort, soit a la vie, Car Dieus scet tout et riens n’oublie. Je te pri qu’a ce tes cuers tire Bien penser, bien faire, et bien dire. Et eschue tout le contraire, Car c’est legiere chose a faire. Et fay a tous ce que vorroies Qu’on te feïst. Ce sont les voies Q’Diex vuet que si ami facent, Qui son commant pas ne trespassent. Se tout ce fais, tu te reposes, Si lai de toutes autres choses Dieu, nostre Pere, couvenir. Einsi porras terre tenir. Amis, ci vueil mon dit finer, Et mon ouvrage terminer. Je te pri qu’en bon gré le pregnes Et que le milleur en reteingnes. Laisse ce qui n’est pourfitable, Et si retien le plus notable. Aussi te vueil je supplier, Les deffaus vueilles supplier Car je say po et petit vail, Si n’est merveille se je fail. Mais un cornars a teste fole Dit bien une bonne parole. Or faut que te teingne couvent De ce que je t’ay en couvent. C’est de toy et de moy nommer Par quoy on sache qui blasmer S’il a deffaut ou mespresure En ceste presente escripture. Et vraiement, si pro qu’i a, Bien croy que des deffaus y a. Mais qui vorra savoir sans faille Nos .ij. noms, et sans controuvaille, Vesci comment on les sara. Quant ma dame chevauchera, Elle ira diner a Glurvost, Droit en la maison le prevost. C’est une villette en l’Empire Qui n’est gueres dou Bourget pire. La trouveras qui te dira Mon nom, et ja n’en mentira, Et pour qui j’ai fait ce traitié, Que j’ay mis en rime et traitié. Va y, qu’il y fait bon et chaut, Et s’aler n’i vues, ne m’en chaut. EXPLICIT CONFORT D’AMY. “Explicit le Confort d’amy Qui esveilla le cuer de my Es tenebres ou il dormi, Et au resveillier dist: ‘Aimy! Que ne suis je partis par mi Quant j’ay si longuement gemi Et tant plouré et tant fremi, Que le gros de l’uef d’un fremi N’ay receü, par saint Fremi, De joie en plus d’an et demi! Et encor ont mi anemi, Que j’ay moult doubté et cremi Et a qui j’ay tant escremi Q’le cuer en ay entumi, Mon b mol de be fa be mi Mis en b dur. Amis, tu m’i Pues bien aidier, par saint Remi, Car comme fol et esturmi, Com forsené et esrami, M’ont par maintes fois esturmi. Pour ce te requier, alume y, Car goute n’i voy; destumi Mon triste cuer et desdormi, Et je te promet que tuit mi Annemi seront avec mi, Pour qui maint soupir ay vomi.

Friend, I have thought long and hard About offering you consolation, And God knows I would do so, And more than I can say were I able, Willingly, and with a happy heart, But there is no path or way That has come to my attention For my message to reach you. Nonetheless I will set out to compose And, God willing, complete one, Though you are wise enough To look after yourself even if you don’t receive A comforting message from me. But I undertake this task without deception Because I love you and have in mind Every day the misfortune you suffer. For by my faith, your actions, I believe, constitute no crime in the least, And thus you should find consolation from God, Bearing more easily your sorrow. Sire, if I call you friend, Please don’t be angry with me; For you know quite well you are my lord, While I am neither of high Nor low birth, but am, instead, your man With nothing held back, whatever should happen. I don’t intend yet to name you Or myself until I’m ready, For I’ll write down our two names In such a way that no man or woman Can remove from or add to them But a single letter and syllable. Now nothing can be added, And that means something must be removed. So first eliminate One whole syllable From the beginning of the eleventh verse And then cut out a letter from the tenth Near the poem’s end; you’ll recognize them After just a little thought. I put these names in the text, so God help me, Just for amusement. And do you know where they will appear? “When my lady goes riding.” In any case, friend, without inventing a thing, I intend here to offer proof by examples Contained in the Bible (And these seem impossible to us), Attesting that the man who trusts in God, If he acts according to reason, And loves, serves, and honors Him, Will come out on top at last. Now as I begin with my material I pray God Our Father To be with me at the outset, In the middle, and at the very end. He who knows everything, sees all, Who governs everyone, brings forth whatever exists, Who made the sky and the air, The earth, the sea, and everything that Can be named within, all there is, was, will be, He created it all, and will bring it to an end At a time He has set, He never forgets His good friends, Rather counsels, comforts them, Offering them solace in their misery In many an unusual way, And He loves with a love so complete That whoever gives his whole heart to Him Never fails to find comfort. And I intend to offer proof with Scripture, Which many times shows this figurally. Long ago in Babylon there was A man who could do much good, And he was renowned for His great riches; Joakim was his name. He had married a woman Very beautiful, wise, and good, Sweet-tempered, courteous, and well brought up As well as instructed in the law of Moses. The woman’s name was Susannah, And she feared God with her heart and soul. Joakim owned a garden Near his house; no bumpkin Had fashioned it, for it was too delightful, Stocked with every kind of fruit that offers pleasure. And so in great crowds the Jewish people Would go there to enjoy themselves. At that time two aged judges Held office who ruined themselves With lechery and covetousness, Which bring about great evil and unrest, And of these Our Lord speaks, And these are the words he says: “From the Babylonian judges, Advanced in years and well-established, Who governed the city, A terrible iniquity did arise.” These two men often visited the household Of Joakim, there issuing Their edicts, their commandments, Offering counsel, rendering judgments. And so all those seeking justice Would go inside to where they were. When the crowd melted away, Susannah would amuse herself With her maidens in his garden. And they were of refined demeanor and lovely. And every day the elders, rife with vice, Would watch her enjoy the shade And disport herself there, Until finally, in filth and vileness, In passion and with evil urges, Through desire and misguided pleasure These two became infected with lust for her, So much did she attract and appeal to them. Then they abandoned reason and propriety, Casting their eyes to the ground So they could not look to The heavens, or hold in their hearts Any thought of that Sovereign Judge Who through reason creates and governs all things; And henceforth they never ceased looking out For just the right day When they might come upon her there alone, So no evidence could be offered Of what they intended or what they did. One day Susannah made her way To the garden, just as She was accustomed to doing, With only the two serving women Because she wished to wash And bathe herself in private, So great then was the heat. And she said to them: “Go without delay And close the garden gate, Bringing me the oil I like, For I wish to wash and bathe.” The elders had hidden away In the garden, there watching carefully In order to surprise her alone. And when she was alone, swiftly, Not hesitating, with quick steps, They came up to Susannah And said: “The garden is shut, With not a soul within Who can bear witness or give us away, And so you shouldn’t refuse at all To yield to all we desire, For you have got the time, the opportunity, the place. Now we have been overcome by your beauty, Terribly inflamed with love for you. So do what it is we request. For if you don’t, we promise We will testify against you To the people and all your family, Saying we found you lying With a young man, and no mistake, Having, because of your passion for the youth, Dismissed your serving women.” After Susannah listened to them, She commended her body and soul to God; Wept bitterly, sighing, bemoaning her lot, And then said, after letting out a great cry: “Anguish holds me fast on every side, Strangling and paining my heart. If I do this, I am dead to God, But if I refuse what you ask, I will never escape your hands, For it is not at all a fair fight. And yet I am better off chancing Myself, so pure from vice, in your hands, Than offending my God with sin, And so I prefer seeing what fate will bring.” Right then Susannah cried out In a loud voice: “Help! Help! Help!” And the traitorous, sinful old men Started to raise a cry against her. But to throw more light on the matter One ran over to open the gate. When from the house the people heard This uproar, they all came running To discover what might be happening. And after the judges and the false priests Spoke to them, everyone was amazed, And wept over the bizarre event, For there had never been spoken About her an ugly or reproachful word. The next day, the people, their hearts saddened, Went to her husband, With the two priests filled with outrage, Evil thoughts, and anger, In order to have Susannah put to death, And these had no conscience or remorse. The false priests spoke to the people, Distorting the truth in every way: “Send Susannah out to meet us, Joakim’s wife!” And with great haste Susannah was led out, Accompanied on every side By her family and relations, Toward her two mortal enemies, And, also, toward the people. Yet all the men and women alike Covered their faces with tears of pity Because of the dire news, For no woman in the land was thought Better or a more prudent wife. And the two priests rose up From the crowd and stood together. As Susannah arrived there Each put his bare hand Over Susannah’s head, As she removed and erased from her heart All trace of sin and misdeed, Placing her trust in God alone. At this moment, the two judges said To the crowd: “Her sin pronounces sentence; And we ourselves will judge her According to the facts we’ll now relate. In the garden, in that apple orchard Which borders the house of Joakim, We ventured the other day for pleasure, Seeking fresh air, beating down a dewy path. Susannah made her way to the garden, But she knew nothing of our presence; Two serving girls were her companions, And these she sent away so that they Should not witness her lechery. All at once a young man came out From the bushes, whom we then found, And beyond all doubt, to have been lying with her. Witnesses to such adultery, We were shocked and filled with anger, And we rushed forward to seize him. But he proved quite able to defend himself, Being stronger, and so he took flight, As soon as he heard and noticed us, Through the gate. So we put our hands on Susannah, asked her over and over again Who the young man was. But this got us nowhere, For she never would tell us. This crime, this adultery, Just as we have related it to you, We affirm as the truth.” The crowd gathered there Did place great faith in these two, For the judges were elders, And so the people believed them, Condemning Susannah to death, For they looked no further into the matter. When Susannah recognized that the judgment Clearly meant her death, She began to cry out in a loud voice, Her hands joined, not hesitating at all: “Lord God, Who are eternal, A just judge, and a reasonable one, You know the things that are hidden, What comes and goes; You recognize the thoughts within a heart Even before they are thought; You know everything even before it happens; And so You recognize that I’ve not sinned And that the false judges who’ve condemned me Have testified falsely And maliciously as well, So I shall lose my body and my life. Sweet Lord, You Who see and know all, Heed my prayer, listen to my voice, For I have placed all my hope in You, All my heart, my love, my trust.” God the Father did not wish at all To forget His friend and servant, Did not wish, would not endure or suffer Her body to be so terribly punished With no reason, no justification; Rather He performed a clear miracle for her, Attending to her prayer indeed, With a sympathetic heart and complete love. For just as she was led off to Her death, the people assembled To witness the bitter fate Of this disconsolate and abandoned woman. And in that crowd was a woman, Whose name or history I do not know, And she was carrying a young boy, Who took much joy in being held Since he could not walk or speak, So young was he at the time. The boy’s name was Daniel, As Scripture tells us. Now God granted him the power To speak and walk, also the intelligence, Discernment, and understanding To preach a prophecy That would reveal the truth About the false priests and make it acknowledged. Just at that moment, he cried out in a clear voice, This child held in his mother’s arms, So that all the people and the crowd Could hear, saying: “I am innocent and clean Of this person’s blood.” And this means, as Scripture has it: “I am not guilty in any way for her death Because before all I refuse responsibility.” At once the crowd moved toward him, First one, then two, ten, and twenty, Saying: “What are you saying?” And he answered: “Children of Israel, You are foolish and stupid Because you have condemned to death The daughter of Helkias Without taking into account either truth, Or reason, either justice or fairness. Go back, for these liars are Damned, and they have borne false witness. God knows this, and I so testify.” The crowd returned at once, Delaying little along the way, The better to learn the truth. The great nobles of the city, When they came to the place of council, Did speak sweetly to the infant: “Come sit by our side, For God has wished to accord And provide for you the honor that goes with age.” Daniel got to his feet among them, Saying: “You’ll know the truth! Let there be some distance between them.” And at once they were separated. This ploy will earn him much credit, For it reveals the truth of the matter Through the power of God the Father. Daniel called over one of the judges, Saying: “You who falsely judge, You’ve grown old and afflicted In evil days marked by crimes That will be made manifest to the people. Your body and soul will pay the penalty Because you have falsely judged Many an important man and many a case. For you would oppress the innocent While setting free the guilty, And God says one doesn’t kill The innocent, those who live justly. But tell me, when you laid hands upon her, Under what tree had you seen them Talking together and carrying on.” He answered: “Under a pistachio.” “Surely you are lying on your head! And here is the swift sentence From God’s angel, who will strike right through Your body, cutting it in half.” And he had him taken off, calling over the other And speaking to him in this way: “You who pass false sentence, Are an issue from the seed Of Canaan, which was cursed Because it was full of every evil. You did not descend from the good lineage Of Judah, which upholds the right and rules by it, And which was blessed by God Because it was upright, just. Beauty has captivated and deceived you, And lust has urged you on, And these so perverted your heart They turned you toward committing every crime When you passed false judgment on Susannah. But you should know your judge is more just. And so this is what you’ve done To the daughters of Israel in secret ways, Contriving their shame by scaring And threatening them. Alas! The unfortunate ones Tumbled into your net Through fear, not because they consented. But Susannah, daughter of Judah, Would not countenance or tolerate Your vile and filthy iniquity, Preferring instead to fall and remain In your hands, expecting death, Rather than to offend God, her creator. But say under what tree they were When you saw them speaking together.” He answered: “Under a lentil.” “You’re lying, it’s true! And so watch The angel of God, and no doubt about it, He who holds the sword of vengeance, Make ready to cut you in two halves, Never to be joined again, For you shall be dead and your goods, Body, and soul destroyed.” At once the entire crowd That had accompanied her Cried out in a very loud voice: “Oh God! What a miracle this is!” And they began to thank God, Praising and glorifying Him, So He would preserve the goods, bodies, and spirits Of all in His keeping Who have a true and Unshakable trust, a virtuous hope in Him. At once the people arose And turned toward the two priests Who had been convicted of false witness By Daniel the wise man, For their own mouths acknowledged it, And thus were condemned to death, So judged because of the crimes They had committed against women. In this way Susannah was delivered, Found guiltless on this very day, And all by divine power, Which overcomes and extirpates all evil. From the Latin text I’ve seen myself I’ve put it down as closely as possible. And so, friend, you should ponder This example, remarking How Susannah was accused And how she was then given her freedom, Knowing no other way to help herself But through the hope she had in God. And truly, if the faith you have in Him Is strong, then you need not fear, For He will always bring you consolation, Always keep you safe. And if anyone asks me, Begging or demanding to know Who this child Daniel was, I know nothing more, won’t say anything But what many scholars maintain, Those who study the Scriptures Diligently, namely that he’s the one Who was sent among lions To be done to death, And further that he is the man Who prophesied many times, Interpreting the dream Of Nebuchadnezzar the king, The one who for possessions, for treasure, Or for anything he could do Might find no one able to interpret it Save Daniel, and yet he told him Its import. And so it’s good sense to speak Of his life and accomplishments In order to advance my theme. Still I don’t intend to treat the dream That was faithfully interpreted Since it would be too long a subject, Whoever would rhyme it. After Nebuchadnezzar learned the whole truth Of his dream, he considered a filthy fool The wisest and most accomplished Man who might be in his land Compared to Daniel the prophet, And he sent far from him all others Because he loved and valued Daniel, Having him honored and served. And then the king greatly exalted Daniel, worshipping him, And because of the man’s wisdom He had a sacrifice made for him of incense and animals. The king then said to Daniel: “Your God, the God of Israel Is the God of gods, the Sire and Father Of kings, Who reveals mysteries And those things no one can learn Either through wisdom or for money.” The king gave him expensive gifts, Making him lord and master Over all his provinces, Raising him above the wise men and princes Of Babylon, his own country. And soon thereafter Daniel without opposition Appointed Shadrach, Mischach, And Abed-nego, for the public good And with the king’s blessing, to govern The provinces in the proper fashion, And Daniel remained With the king at all times. Nebuchadnezzar the king Ordered a golden statue to be made, Six measures in width And forty in height. The statue I’m describing Had a huge body and face, Was handsomely fashioned, finely featured. It was placed in the field of Durain After great effort and careful thought. The king then summoned a huge multitude Of princes and governors From his lands, the lesser and the greater. Princes, judges, dukes, and potentates All made their way to that very spot. And everyone in the region journeyed To witness the dedication Of the idol, and to worship it, For no one dared remain at home. Afterward the king issued an edict That he announced to the crowd and said: “The moment you hear our instruments, Ring out and sound agreeably, The trumpet, flute, the harp That are sweetly piped and plucked, The sweetness of the symphony, And the very pleasant melody Of every kind of music, Let there be no one who does not Bend himself to adoring the golden idol. And we furthermore order you, Each and every one, to lie on the ground, Offering it glory and honor. And if there is any man or woman so foolish Not to worship the idol, It is our intention that, with no delay at all, This person be set ablaze and burned to cinders, Thrown into a fiery furnace.” When the people heard and understood Both the edict and the law, They all obeyed without a protest, Worshipping and honoring The idol as much as they could manage. Rumor, who runs everywhere And makes herself known in every court, Said to Nebuchadnezzar: “King, there are still several In your kingdom who refuse to worship The idol of gold, that statue, Violating your decree in all openness, And not in secret.” He demanded to know who they might be And was informed that: “The ones doing this Are Shadrach (who is called Hananiah), Abed-nego Azariah, Along with Mischach Mishael, And these all, by the order of Balthazar Daniel, Are over the princes, overseeing The works of this land. If you don’t investigate This crime, bringing it to light, No one will care a whit About your edict and your statue.” The king commanded someone to go at once And seek them out, bringing them before him, And then he addressed them thus: “What madness drives you To violate my law By refusing to reverence Or pay respect to the golden idol? In short, know well that if you don’t worship it, Whether I sleep or wake, You’ll be burned, killed, consumed by fire, destroyed At once in the burning flame Of that furnace that blazes so furiously, Nor is there any god with power enough To keep you safe or defend you from This sentence of death.” Then, not hesitating, they answered: “King, we very much want you to know We don’t fear your threats, Or you, your gods, or your furnace That blazes, more than a lone strawberry, And so we’ll not worship your gods at all, We have a God who will preserve Our lives, our bodies, our souls In the midst of your fire, however much it rages.” Hearing himself contradicted in this way, The king erupted with anger and rage, For his gods had been belittled and defied And his own dominion counted as nothing. Then he ordered the furnace To be made ready, and an enormous fire Kindled within, one seven times fiercer Than customary, for it was his wish. The furnace was stoked up, Set to burning so terribly That the height of the flames Reached forty-nine measures into the air. The king ordered some of the very strongest Men of his realm to go among the people And lay hands on the three Jews To roast and burn them to cinders, And he had their feet And legs bound together with no delay And them thrown into the fire, Unlike any that had ever been before, For several of the Chaldeans standing there Were killed by the blazing flames. But this all-destroying, all-devastating fire Did not harm at all the bodies or clothes Of the Jews in the very midst Of those roaring flames, for they were friends of God, Didn’t harm a single hair on their heads, But, instead, they made merry and celebrated, Not feeling the heat and stink Of the fire, or its great ferocity either. Within the flames they blessed And glorified God with loud voices, Each by himself and together with the others. And, it seems to me, an angel was there, Moving above the flames, To all appearances a son of God. God had sent him from among his company To comfort the young men, And he did ease them quite ably, Bringing them such consolation That he extinguished completely the fire And the flames, beating down the heat, And with a wind sweet and pleasant For any human body, delightful, Full of pleasure and total comfort, The angel cooled the furnace And so gloriously transformed it There was no corruption of any kind. There they sang a hymn of praise To God the father with the angel, And it is called “Benedictus.” The hymn has many times been sung, And is still often performed At matins in many a convent. When the song of praise was finished, The king, with his huge entourage, Moved toward the furnace, Looked in and cast his eyes upon Four persons who were Healthy and unharmed as they rejoiced. The fourth, standing in the middle, Was the angel from God the father Who had been sent and ordered To console His friends. No marks or stains appeared Either in the furnace or where the fire Had been laid, for the fire was extinguished That previously had been so powerful. When the king witnessed this miracle And marvel, he greatly wondered, Saying loudly for all to hear: “Mishael, and you Azariah, Truly there’s no god save Yours, who in such a way Watched over and kept you safe. Come out, for you have been delivered.” Then he took hold of them, leading them out, And gave them even higher ranks Than the ones they had ever held, And this all just as I have read it myself, Finding everything in the written text In the Bible where it is recorded. And those men saved From death were delivered By the power of our Lord. Thus both the low and the mighty Ought find consolation in Him For no one suffers so great a sorrow That, after granting and giving both heart And love to Him, He will not console him, Nor might a man on his own discover such comfort As that which comes from Him. And so, friend, if you grant Him your heart, Drawing consolation from His love, Know that in all things He will help, Comfort, and support you. I would like to adduce a further example Based on fact, literally true: King Nebuchadnezzar Did seize the vessels and the treasure From the temple in Jerusalem, And for this his soul suffered damnation. His son Belshazzar ruled the kingdom After him, governed it with pride, For he was a powerful man and a wealthy one, With no respect for anyone else. One day Belshazzar held An open court, where there were People of all degree from his realm, For he was their hereditary ruler, And thus more than a thousand came. And they were hardly served coarse grain, But rather fine wine and meat, As much as appetite demanded. Belshazzar, to entertain himself, Had the golden vessels brought in, Those his father had seized in the temple Of Jerusalem; but this went badly for him Because he drank from them, and his queens did as well, His wives and concubines, Along with a great many of their company. They had then idols of gold and silver, Brass and stone and wood. And not a god there was not Glorified and worshipped, Served, praised, and honored. But God clearly demonstrated to him How this was his damnation, For just as he sat down to the feast, Belshazzar caught sight of a hand Writing on the wall; Yet this hand appeared to no one Save Belshazzar alone. And if Scripture does not lie Where I have seen it written, The hand traced out these words On the wall: “Mene Tekel Upharsin.” Now if Belshazzar at that moment had slipped Into the mud of some swamp, He could not have been as surprised As he was by the hand he spied. Afterwards he ate and drank no more, For all his limbs trembled Whenever he remembered The hand, and his body shook More than a leaf from an aspen tree. And so at once he ordered The wisest men of his country to be searched out, And when they arrived, He told them all that had happened, Namely how he had seen the hand write. And whoever could read the words And offer a clear explanation of Their meaning, without any tricks, He swore by his gods and goddesses That this very man would have rich clothes Of purple: “After me and my heir, He would, for the rest of his life, be third As far as my realm and possessions are concerned, Enjoying always my exclusive favor.” But there was no man, however wise, Who could decipher, better than a valet, The message, nor who could tell Either its meaning or import. The queen learned the news, Which seemed neither good nor pleasing to her, And in great haste went to the king, Then pondering deeply the writing, And said to him in a very loud voice: “Good king, may you live forever! Don’t worry about this so much. Let go of these thoughts and musings, For there’s a man in Chaldea Who’ll tell you what you wish to know. Knowledge about the gods is his, And he can explain to you what comes from your gods, As well as the entire meaning and significance Of the vision you had of the hand. This is Balthazar Daniel. His wit is quite sharp and clear, And in the wandering He has come to live in this country.” The king then ordered Someone to go at once to seek him out, And a man left immediately to find him So that he could be spoken to and questioned In order to determine if he could solve the puzzle To which the king sought and demanded an answer. Daniel appeared before the king, Who said this to him in quick order: “Daniel, hear what’s on my mind; You belong to the children of Judea Whom my father led here After taking them prisoner, threatening them With death if they would not worship his gods And didn’t deny their own God. It is said you possess knowledge About the gods on high, and wisdom as well, There being no matter so mysterious You cannot discern its truth, Following a discreet and wise path. Neither in the city of Babylon, Nor in my kingdom, my empire, Is any man capable of telling me The meaning of the writing Traced on the wall over there, Which a hand that vanished From my eyes, disappearing, Came here to bring to my attention. If you tell me the meaning Of the message, yours will be a purple robe, And, even more, you’ll become the third highest In my kingdom and realm, Whose king I am and which I rule.” After the king had said these words, Daniel answered with the following: “King, I have no desire for your gifts Or for your land; but of this thing that binds Your heart with dark and heavy thoughts I will reveal to you the pure truth. God, the king and ruler Over kings, over realms, over empires, In former times did grant your father A kingdom, magnificence, and glory, Riches, power, victory. But that man desired no other paradise Than to live in such grandeur. He had so much wealth and power, So many lands, fiefs, privileges, and possessions That it was too much to own. And so the people worshipped, And those of all tongues did fear, him. And everyone he was pleased to raise up, No man might challenge. Those he’d bring low, He made beg for their bread, While those he hated even to death Were dead within the very hour. When he saw himself so high, Pride, that knows no moderation, Began to live within his heart, thriving there, Yet bringing him down in turn So that he lost his glory and his kingdom, For pride heeds neither rules nor law. He was humbled among all men Because of that pride that grew within, And he was set out among the savage beasts In the fields and wilderness. There was his home For many a day, and to nourish himself Whenever he was hungry, He would eat grain just like a cow. His skin was often drenched By the dew that falls from heaven. For a long time your father was in this fix, Who was king and emperor, Until at last he recognized The sovereign power Of the true God, who is immortal And has the ability to bestow Kingdoms and empires on mortal men, But also like a sovereign lord to take them back, Giving riches or poverty To each according to his deserts. Belshazzar, you are his son, And — of this I’m completely certain — your heart is Not bent down or bowed In complete humility, or softened Toward the sovereign heavenly King, Who is the ruler of the heavens, Master of the air, the sea, the dry land, And whatever the clouds do encompass. Rather you have taken the golden vessels Nebuchadnezzar brought Into his temple, and they have drunk so much From them they are all filled with drink, Your counselors, your concubines, Your slaves, your servants, your maids. You’ve not had this God honored, But have had yours worshipped, Yours made of gold, of silver, of copper, Of iron, of wood, of stone, of the craft Fashioned by human hands. Such work does not endure long, Nor do these objects hear, see, or understand, Speaking no word to any man. For they are not alive, feel nothing, Have no limbs that might move. And so you are very much deceived, Having fallen into Hell from Heaven Because you have not served, honored, or shown love to The God of nature, Who formed all living things Like a true God, never supplicated Him. And so I will explain the message That was written on the wall, And the hand that traced it as well, Whose significance you’ve been eager to learn. And I will explicate this in such an orderly way No error will need emending. King, if I remember correctly, There were three words In the message: ‘Mene tekel upharsin.’ These are hardly stupid chatter, For each bears a significance great and important To the man who can rightly interpret it, So you’ll learn the meaning With no untruth. The God who does not lie or err, With no beginning, no end, Who is unmoved, just, and stable, Ruling without limit and eternal, He has seen and understood What you’ve done and do. Now I will tell you without hesitating How you should understand ‘mene.’ ‘Mene’ properly signifies How God has numbered the days of And brought to an end your realm and empire, Establishing such a limit It will never thrive again, Only grow always smaller, For it’s at its highest point. If you understand me well, He’s submitting Your very person, your honor, your power, Your magnificence and glory, Your rule, your dignity, And all your felicity To death and destruction, For you have paid homage And offered sacrifice to idols, Neglecting the very fitting duty Of worshipping the celestial King, Who made your father feed on grain. You will witness all this come quickly To pass, if Daniel does not lie. ‘Tekel’ makes manifest and signifies That because of your immoral life God has put your power And your kingdom on the scales. And the scales, accurate and fair, Clearly demonstrate and show You don’t measure up Because of the pride that’s ruined And is ruining you from day to day, Having dwelled so long within you It will not allow you in the least To go offer your heart To the true God who made all the world; And so you shall die a second death, Forfeiting body and soul And what you own — this is how you shall end. ‘Upharsin’ literally signifies — For I will leave out or add nothing — A very difficult thing That will seem terribly dark to you, Very troublesome, quite mysterious. All your kingdom will be divided between Those of Medea and those of Persia; Whether it’s fine gold or pure balm, Every man will have his share, And you shall forfeit thereby the power you wield, Your soul, your body, your goods at a single blow. Now I think I have told you All about the hand and its message, The pure truth, and clearly. Yet the meaning of these three words Points toward only one conclusion.” After the king heard out what he said, He did not think it foolish, But seemingly rather mysterious, Quite dark, and filled with threat. Yet he gave an order to His servants, whom he summoned, That Daniel should have a robe of gold And purple, one all his own, And in the manner of the Chaldeans He would wear a necklace cast of gold Around his neck, and he should be third most important In the realm. Quite willingly They carried out his command, But Belshazzar did not live Long, for he was killed That very night and overthrown, And at this the people greatly wondered Blessing themselves for the miracle, And affirming it with no dissenting voice. Everyone saw clearly how Daniel Possessed a knowledge of things divine In his heart and soul. After this king, Darius, held sway, A man who greatly loved and held dear Daniel in his kingdom. But the princes and counts Wished in their envy to bring that man low, Just as the Bible tells us, Because he had the right to command Them and correct what they did; Since Darius the king had ordered And enjoined all his princes And also all his ministers, Whatever names or titles they had, To render, each in turn, And on pain of great penalty, an accounting to Daniel Of their actions and of the taxes they collected, For this would please him; and they had done so. And further it was the king’s Intention for him to be dominant In all his lands; So he was hated by the princes. But God the father guided And sustained him in all he did, So that the princes and satraps Through pure jealousy — that lays a snare For many a heart — sought out the chance To bring Daniel To destruction; but they saw well He was so virtuous They should never discover Anything to prove him evil. So they conspired to create trouble And so expel him from his office, Bring about his death By trapping him with his own law. And to this plan they all agreed, Being each of the same mind, Princes, satraps, senators, Ministers, judges, officials, and they decided To promulgate an edict and decree All quite openly, not in secret, Which stated that whoever would make A petition, sacrifice, or offering During the next thirty days, and that is the number, To any god whatever, or any man, Except to Darius himself, Would be quickly thrown Or dispatched into the lions’ den, Regardless of his rank, There to be devoured And shamefully killed right on the spot. Then all of them went together In their fine array to the king, Informing him of the law They had passed to honor him, And begging him to enact it As his own decree and have it made Public throughout his empire. Without another word, the king happily Confirmed and approved it, Finding a messenger right away To go to Persia and Medea And make public that whoever violated Or disregarded the king’s edict Would, without any mercy, be consigned To the den with the savage lions, No matter who he was, lord or page. Daniel knew all about the edict, And neither opposed nor objected to it, Going instead inside his dwelling, For he saw clearly there was nothing to do Except have a perfect faith And an unshakable hope in the true God. And he entered his chapel To worship, adore, and pray to The sovereign God of glory, The sovereign God of glory, From falling on his knees Three times a day to offer his prayers To God, who defends and watches over All those He takes into His protection. And he lifted up his face and heart Toward the sovereign God of mercy And in the direction of Jerusalem. But he would have been in a terrible spot Had not God come to his rescue, For his enemies arrived at a run. Many were present to set the trap, Men who bore him mortal hatred, Observing through a window That he was worshipping the God of heaven. Immediately they went to the king, Saying: “King, you are obligated To safeguard right and justice, Making sure your edict is not violated. Throughout your realm you have mandated That no man at all, according to your order, However high his rank, and at the risk of losing his life, Should worship any god or goddess Or any other man save you alone For thirty days.” “Certainly, That is the truth,” answered Darius, “No man should do the contrary.” Then the potentates continued, Intent on Daniel’s death: “King, know for certain now That Daniel regularly Worships his God on his knees Three times a day. Each of us Knows this, has seen and proved it, And as soon as we found it out We came to inform you Of this defiance, this outrage, An act that shows no respect for your law, Treats you spitefully and shamefully.” When Darius heard this news, And recognized that the princes of Chaldea Were bound as one in this matter, He fell into a very painful mood And was terribly upset, For he loved Daniel very much And so began considering what to do And how to help him, though he understood Perfectly that they were doing this Because they were jealous and hated him. But the princes and the senators, Along with all those assembled there, Said to the king: “You ought not Be troubled at all on this account, For that would be an outrage If the law of the Medes and Persians Were broken for the sake of one man; It would be a great loss and much cause for lament.” The king said: “Let Daniel come forward To be put into the lions’ den; it pleases me.” Daniel was sent for, and he came. And more than twenty there laid hands upon him To throw him into the cruel pit. And the king, his face sorrowful, Said to him: “Daniel, sweet friend, You shall be sent into the lions’ den; Servant of God, put your hope Firmly in your God, for through Him I expect Everyone to witness clearly That He will deliver you to a happy end.” And then a stone was moved aside, Which was heavy and huge, And they put him in at once With those famished lions So they should eat him up, devour him, Just like a lamb fallen among wolves. Darius ordered the stone Picked up and then put back Above the cave entrance. For he wished to know, whoever might bemoan it, And see what would happen, As well as how the matter would end. He sealed the stone with his ring, Quite properly and well. His counselors did the same. For no one ought wonder If he did not want the man harmed By anyone without him knowing. And then he left while Daniel remained behind. But every single lion honored him, Frolicked, and did him reverence, Without harm or hurt. He was there six days, and no one Took him bread, or wine, or any other food, And the seven lions got none as well, More famished than hunting hawks they were, And nothing brought them during the day So they would devour his flesh. For without fail they were given Two sides of beef every day, And two sheep for their food, But this day nothing was served them. There was a prophet in Judea, A certain Habbakuk who, one day, Was cooking his meal in a pot, Barley and milk, as best he could, And he’d put some bread in his herdsman’s basket, Also some water in a flask He would bring to those working In the fields because of the sparrows there. Once in the fields, he had a happy Encounter, for there he met An angel from the sovereign Lord, Who was the first to speak: “Habbakuk, God who is great orders you To bring this food To Daniel in Babylon. Don’t seek out work or leisure, For he has been put into the lions’ den Through malicious lies.” When he had finished speaking, Habbakuk said: “I have never seen Babylon, don’t know the den; Never have I set out that way.” At once the angel, not hesitating, Went to seize him by the hair And carried him off, and this is the truth, Right to the city of Babylon, Bringing him above the very spot Where Daniel remained in the midst Of the seven lions eager for food Because they were terribly famished. And when Habbakuk was put down on the ground, He didn’t break the gate or lock of the den, Spent no effort working on it, But rather called out, in a loud voice: “O Daniel, servant of God, Whom all men should love above everything, Take the food God has sent you. Be comforted and happy; For the Lord Who never forgets Has not forgotten you. Give great God thanks and praise, Who by His angel had me brought here From far off in a short time. I am so very eager to see you. Get up and take this food I have made, which you should eat.” Hearing these words, Daniel greatly rejoiced, Saying: “Surely the true God, King of kings and God of gods, Has never forgotten His good friends; From far off He’s sent me help; He loves the virtuous who flee evil, Aiding those who lean on Him.” Daniel then got to his feet And ate enough of the food To be filled and satisfied, Overflowing with love for God. This accomplished, the angel who had Brought Habbakuk there returned, And put him back in the very spot He had taken him from and in no time at all. On the seventh day, King Darius Was eager to discover How the matter of Daniel had turned out, For he was greatly troubled by His suffering and punishment, Fearing that and wondering if He had been killed and devoured For the sake of the God he worshipped. When Darius opened the pit, He saw Daniel with his hands On the dominant lion. Now no one, woman or man, Had ever seen Daniel In better health, more fit. And Darius the king, who saw Daniel sitting there Among these dangerous beasts, Frightening and proud, Who had eaten or drunk nothing That day, for they had nothing, And he had been seven full days Inside the den in the summertime, With no bread, no wine, or other food He could have received from anyone, And yet his health was as good, Even better than anyone else’s, Cried out and spoke in a loud voice Against his own law and edict: “There is truly no other god Than that of Daniel alone, Who delivered him alive and well From the den where jealousy had sent him.” The king had him pulled up At once, for he was quite eager To see and speak to him. And yet his face had not turned pale From the filth and dirt, Not from hunger, and not from fear. Darius, who loved him dearly, Then asked quite tenderly: “Servant of God, how are you? You have been in great danger!” And Daniel answered with these few words: “Good king, may you live forever! But God sent His angel to me, And he held shut their mouths, restraining The lions with such force they could Do me no harm or damage, And this because He has found me just Whenever He has tested me, And never, king, did I sin against you Or do wrong to anyone else.” Then Darius the king had searched out, Sought after, and looked for throughout his lands All those who had been the cause Of this evil deed, and whatever Their rank, he had them thrown Without hesitation into the lions’ den, Along with their wives, sons, and daughters. But the lions did not think much Of all this, who had plenty To eat. In this way the king Was pleased to take vengeance, for they died, And all together, a horrible death. Afterward Darius the king had issued The following public proclamation: “To all generations, Peoples, tongues, and nations, To all the inhabitants of the world, May they have an abundance of peace and mercy! A statute and decree, Devised through wise and good counsel For my empire and realm, Whose king I am and where I rule, For I have determined and maintain, that all those Who populate my kingdom and empire Should fear, respect, serve, and honor The God of Daniel at all times. For He is living and eternal, Enduring from age to age; His kingdom will have no end, And His power will always remain. He is the deliverer of prisoners. He is the true savior of sinners, He is the one who sets awesome signs In the heavens, and impossible wonders In the sky, the water, the seas, and on earth; He delivers those captured and in bonds, He Who rescued Daniel From the lions’ den.” And so Darius the king had it Written throughout his realm and empire That everyone should obey the God Of Daniel and serve Him, Recanting the idolatry I hold a great foolishness: Namely that a sculptor fashions Some image with a body, limbs, and face. And, having made it beautiful and noble, Then calls it his lord and god. He knows well such a being is much greater Than any image possibly could be, For he made this with ingenuity, Using his own hands and tools, And he could easily destroy it, But the image can do nothing, As it lacks feelings and life, Movement, sense, or understanding. And that man is just like Pygmalion In his ideas and way of thinking, The one who made an image, then loved it so He called it lady and beloved. He is also like Manasseh, Who made merry only With his false images and idols. His many thoughts were then those of a fool Who abandoned the God of creation To serve such filth. But I will say no more about him now, Pursuing my theme further, For in what follows I have more to tell of him. But this much I will say: Whoever celebrates with such a god Is no doubt a beast. For there’s no God but one, By Whom the four elements Were created, from Whom every creature Draws nourishment and life. This God Who nurtures everything and rules The heavens’ center and compass, Who keeps the burning sun on high And the moon below in its coldness, He is the Lord Who can count so ably He knows the number of the grains of sand, Knows how many are the drops in the ocean, The names of all the stars. And He never fails His own, for they lack nothing. He created the world From nothing, taking its form From Him alone without other help. He is the Lord who rules all. His good will I will never put in words, For in Him is no failing, no falsehood. He can do everything, contains all value, knows and has all. Never does He fear anything or feel afraid, For nothing disturbs or excites Him. Rather, much more than any rock, He is strong, firm, certain, and stable. And surely that is very fortunate, As much for the greater as the lesser man Who hold to such a God as their Lord. Now you can clearly see Our Lord is readily able To provide easily for His own, Without selling anything or giving pledges. So if your hope in Him is strong, And you serve Him well, I expect He will look to you and your situation, Delivering you to a happy end. And I will present another exemplum And rhyme it, staying as close to the letter As I can best manage In order to show clearly How everyone ought put his hope And all his trust in God. And so I mean to speak Of something quite relevant to my theme. King Manasseh, ruler of Jerusalem, Came to the throne when he was twelve And governed for fifty-five years. But I don’t intend to put my effort Into rhyming in this particular work The whole of his life; Instead I will pass over this quite quickly. When first he was king, He had a number of idols fashioned, Also temples, altars, and painted images, And he led all his people to them So that, in a group, they might take pains To serve and worship such objects, Sacrifice to and honor them; Thus, his mind twisted and filled with foolishness, He made them abandon completely the law God had given to Moses. And yet he did even more, For he had his god — Balaam the name He was called — installed In Jerusalem’s temple and took out Everything his father had put there, And the father had been a virtuous, loyal, and prudent man Who gave appropriate gifts to the temple; And Manasseh worshipped, and it is common enough, The sky, the sun, and the moon, And all the noble beings Of the heavens, and to further this idolatry He had them installed In certain places within the temple of God. This was a grievous wrong Manasseh committed, a terrible sin. Now you’ll hear what became of him. God, wishing not at all the death Of the sinner, instead prompted Him to change his ways And live henceforth in His sweet service, And He spoke to him and his people, But He did not convert them at all this way, For they would not listen to Him, Nor make sacrifice and render Him honor. But Manasseh didn’t have long to wait For God to take appropriate vengeance Since Manasseh was bound and taken By the prince of battle To the king of the Syrians with no trouble, And he never had another hearing, But, instead, was pitilessly led Into the city of Babylon The chains that hung on him were so heavy That, had someone paid him a thousand besants, He could not have gotten himself released. Then he was led off to live In a very dark prison Full of evil smell and filth. Now it will be seen if his idols, Which he fashioned to be wise, Can free him from such straits. I certainly don’t think so; Instead, he shall die there, I have no doubt, If he does not turn a humble heart to God. Now Manasseh is in a prison, Kept close like no captured man ever was, None other more securely or effectively locked up, Nor could he be released from this jail If God himself does not arrange it, For it depends on His order. And so Manasseh considers, thinks it over, And thinks again, his mind casting this way and that, But nothing avails to release him. What is necessary is that he turn both Heart and mind in another direction If he wishes to escape that jail. So he thinks, considers, ponders over and over, But this impasse means he must deny The idols that have twisted His mind, perverting it so much That, short of dying, he will not reject them, But if not, Manasseh will not regain his peace. And then he turned toward the heavens And devoutly prepared himself To acknowledge his Maker, The Lord of the universe and its Author, Who in turn punishes the sinful. Then he confessed his madness And desire to win the struggle, Saying: “I have never yet had A true understanding of my Creator, But now I recognize clearly His Power, Seeing that He is God and Lord Above all things and for eternity.” And thus he began his prayer, Which was humble and devout: “Lord God, who are all powerful, Who keep safe those obedient to you, God of our fathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who suffered many trials In their lives for the sake of Your love, You are the God of their true line, Who made the earth And the heavens, and all that belongs therein, Limiting the deep, and filling it With signs through Your holy words, Commanding the sea to obey And never depart from its bed. You have enclosed, limited the abysm, Signing it with Your holy name, Which is terrible and worthy of praise. Likewise everything trembles in fear, even the angels Illuminated by Your grace, When in the power of Your presence, In the face of Your unbearable anger, Which is unending death to sinners, And neither menaces nor challenges. But let no sinner trust to it, For whoever does brings on his own death, Doing what he has no business to do; And also the mercy Your promise grants us Is great beyond measure, For no creature ever was, Is now, or ever shall be, who is crafty Enough to comprehend it. For You are the sovereign lord Of kingdoms and empires, And even of all the earth. Foolish is he who’d seek out another god. You are too merciful, too pitying, Mild, concerned for both body and soul, As well as forgiving of men’s Sins, and that is Your rightful office. You, Sire, through Your tender mercy Have promised, because of Your goodness, Remission and forgiveness For the sins that do us harm. You, a Lord true and just, Have imposed no penance on the righteous, Have not forgiven their sins, For they have not sinned at all. And because I am more afflicted With vice and sins Than there is sand compassing the oceans, My terrible iniquity drives me on, Ceaselessly multiplies, So that by day and night I am bound and chained, Captured, held tight, destroyed, so crushed I cannot manage breathing Or hardly even sighing. Sire, I have aroused Your anger, Sinning more than I can confess, Doing abominable things, These offenses breeding others, To make filthy Your holy law. Now I bend the two knees of my heart Toward You, Sire, asking Your goodness to attend my prayer. I have sinned, Lord, I have sinned, And now confess all my transgressions, My faults, my iniquity, And the vileness of my misdeeds, Supplicating You in all humility, Begging You devoutly To pardon me, Lord, pardon me! Let not my soul perish with my body And with my crimes (Don’t hold back Your pity), Eternal evil for me! Instead let Your great mercy guide me To salvation, however unworthy I am. So I promise You, Sire, and agree For my part to praise You All the days of my life Because all the powers in heaven Glorify You, never ceasing, and Yours Is eternal glory throughout the universe, Where You hold sway as God.” And after he finished his prayer, With perfect devotion Made wet by the tears from his heart, Delivered with deep sighs, Recognizing his joy And the true God, he was so pleasing to God, Who did heed his prayer, Receiving it in such a way He released him from prison, Showing him such love He returned him as king and lord To his own realm, and with great honor. The four examples I’ve related, Very dear friend, I’ve brought up Only to offer you some comfort. For I cannot bring you The kind of consolation I would like In your terrible desolation. Thus you should take good notice How God keeps watch over the men And women he wishes to guide and aid: They don’t have to worry About looking to themselves, for He has turned His face toward them so they have no troubles. And to be sure He will never be slow To help, and He will protect You from everyone if you keep well His love (Casting up the eyes of your heart to Him), And if you have true faith And perfect hope in Him. You see how Susannah Was saved from death and fire Through her faith alone, She who was imprisoned because of her beauty. The young men who with heart and soul Praised God from within the fire And made merry, celebrated, For not a hair of their heads Was harmed or hurt; They would have preferred being martyred To doing or even considering such a crazy thing As to violate their law Or worship the golden statue Fashioned by Nebuchadnezzar. They were delivered safe and sound, Just as I have found in my book. This was through the divine power That never ceases aiding His dear ones. It delivered Daniel From the lions’ den In great honor because of his virtues And because God had found him A just man whenever put hard to the test, And he also made Darius the king so intoxicated With love for him he promoted Daniel To a higher rank than ever before, And willingly, despite his enemies, Who suffered much at his hands, Dying all together A most evil and shameful death. And because Manasseh did wrong, Our Lord had him put in chains In Babylon, where he was thrown In prison, so hung and draped with iron He thought it Hell itself, So mightily was he bound and chained. But as soon as he renounced The idols and begged God quite devoutly for mercy, Crying and lamenting, God listened to him, understanding, And gave him back his kingdom, Making him an even greater Lord and master than before. When it was time for Mathathias to end His days, he summoned his children To his side in order to comfort And also exhort them To preserve well the secrets Of the law, following their Holy patriarchs, for theirs would be Honor and glory, an undying name And a good reputation if they did, And he also instructed them How Abraham had been found steadfast And trustworthy in the midst of temptation, Which counted toward His reputation for truth and justice. Joseph, in his time of misery, Which pained and rent his heart, Kept and obeyed the commandment Of his God’s law so well That afterward he became lord of Egypt, And this was no small accomplishment. Phineas, who was our father, Loved more tenderly than a mother, Holding dear the love of his God, And this love gained him such high rank He came to possess eternally The most noble dignity In the world, and the most honorable, An undying name and reputation. Good friend, I could go on relating such things Until the dawn if I wished, Such tales and exempla, For my ears and my head Are filled with them because of the Bible. And yet nothing proves impossible for God Or hard to accomplish, for He can Always do all He likes, Nor ever was there a man So disconsolate who was not comforted As long as his heart and mind Were in every way devoted and joined to Him. Just so, dear lord and friend, You have been taken by your enemies, Though your prison’s much too confining. But I believe you have done no wrong, For your nature has not driven you To do what’s improper, Or at least nothing wrong enough To merit your being in such a terrible place, Though Nature demonstrates There is no man who doesn’t sin. But now I will advise you how to act And how to govern your emotions, Your person, and your demeanor. Of all these things the very first You must do is love Your God, calling often upon Him With a devout heart, humble and undivided, And not in weakness, but confidently. If you do so, He will help you Against everyone, keeping you safe, For, as I have told you, no one With trust in Him fails to find consolation. You have seen this in the exempla I have related to you so far. Now, friend, if you wish to live Happily, you must live in moderation, For if you do not live moderately, You shall certainly bring shame upon yourself. If you are served a tasty dish And your appetite encourages you To eat a good deal, Do not follow that impulse. For the man who eats to excess and is idle Shames and harms himself. For if someone brought you this sweet And tasty dish as a trick, And you then ate too much, You should kill yourself at one blow, For another time you will be given Some other dish strangely prepared And so little to make a meal of You would find little nourishment there. And thus you should be deceived, Irresponsible, evilly fed in consequence. Therefore friend, take what you need to live, Measuring and weighing on the scales The evil as well as the good. Make sure you eat what you should, Being careful, little by little, To restrain your appetite Since our body is well nourished And sustained by very little. And then, friend, you should Patiently accept and be content with Both the good and evil God sends your way, And you should keep to the straight path Job followed when he was made wretched And fell into terrible misery, Losing all he had — and it’s true enough — Except his memory and life, Even though in the East There was no lord of greater power. But he lay down on smelly garbage, All alone, making like a derelict Covered with vermin and filled with worms. Yet his heart belonged so much to God He never said with his own mouth What might appear a reproach To his God; instead, humbly, Devoutly, he praised Him. And if someone speaks harsh words, Or injures you at all, Recall to mind that God suffered For our sake and how He offered himself To pain, to suffering, to death. I beg you sincerely: do nothing but laugh Should someone cause you grievous pain or hurt. Instead always have a king’ s heart, And surely you will overcome them Every time you act this way. If you have not been put to bed and afterward awakened, Your hair fixed, curled, and washed, Yourself dressed and shod properly, But, instead, left in poor shape, Treated with scant respect and badly served, Deprived of your freedom, Your clothes all fallen to rags, Do not, I beg you, display any anger. Do not show it in your face or expression, For if they see from your manner You are miserable and uncomfortable, It will go worse for you, I’m quite sure, In three or four different ways. For you do yourself no greater favor Than for them to see you unbowed In a place this vile and unhealthy, And, doubtless, you’d find strength In such determination and courage. So your friends will love you better And your enemies too, Seeing you unperturbed. For it is quite shameful and unseemly For a prince to be upset By any news someone tells him. Whether it’s disaster or good fortune, Great joy or misery, His firm demeanor should never alter, No more than Socrates ever did. If you keep to this, You will be so well schooled You will resemble the philosophers, Who were so resolute There was nothing, however fearful, They would not have preferred enduring To their being perceived as Changing their good opinions Or backing off from the truth. And they did not fear death in any way. Now it might be that all this Tempts you to fall into melancholy. And yet truly, that would be terrible folly. You know well you must die, And so that’s stupid and a mistake Since it can hardly be otherwise; And there is no great man, however eminent, Who himself does not expect to die. Also your truthfulness watches over you And will keep doing so, don’t doubt it, Helping you out in this misfortune. So you ought to keep yourself from despair, Always maintaining an unshakable hope. For in your great deprivation You should make a virtue of necessity. I intend to develop two more points for you In order to expand my theme. Friend, making yourself miserable Eats away at and tortures your heart, Giving joy to your enemies, And if as a result God’s neglected, Less prayed to, less honored, Less served and worshipped, You must abandon all other thoughts To think more about Him. And should you answer me: “I believe That everyone’s angry at, curses me, Saying I have been put in prison For murder or treason, And I’m thus in such terrible disgrace I shall never regain my honor,” Then I would answer you this way, Without hesitating, and concealing nothing, With no lies, and that’s for sure, In anything I have here to say. The story, I tell you, Is still spreading throughout the land And so only a few as yet know the reason For your imprisonment, Thus individuals hold different views. But for every one pleased by your arrest There are two thousand unhappy about it. In every town this is quite evident, For those who speak of you Say what’s good and favorable, And grieve for you. Even little children Sing a praiseworthy song about you. And that all those asking after you Do not seek out, look for, or expect You to be treated With grace, courtesy, or good will, But only with justice Is surely a great honor, And thus it seems you should Feel innocent, body and soul. And this ought to comfort you greatly, Helping you bear up under your troubles. And you have good friends as well, Provided and sent you by God, Who are so fervently praying for you They will aid you with their prayers to God, Who will decide justly. And your judge is virtuous and trustworthy, Wise, merciful, and truthful, All of which is very much to your advantage Since He will pardon your misdeed, That is, if you have done anything that wrong, Which I don’t credit at all. Every day of your life you’ve had Whatever you have wanted. If you desired beaten gold To eat, or precious stones, Or to have fancy clothes, Jewels, money, horses, chargers, Their very stirrups of fine gold, It would have been yours, and no refusal, Nor did anyone ever say or do Anything to displease you; Rather all wished to make you happy. And so you have neglected your Maker Because of your possessions, Because of your grandeur, your wealth, Because of your power and nobility, And you have hardly served Him well enough To merit His grace. And so, dear friend, He shows you The awesome presence of Fortune, Who is completely terrifying, Proud, cruel, inconstant, and fearful. Not very long ago you would have believed That if Priam, the King of Troy, Were alive, and his sons both Hector And Troilus (also Nestor the good), Hector — who gave Menelaus such pain Because of Paris, who had carried off Helen — And all these would launch an attack Against your lands and territories, They could not have as quickly brought You down, by arms or guile, As Fortune has done to you, She who pushed you up on her wheel, There to beat you with her scourges, Which are evil and traitorous. And if you were to reply that You are not subject at all to Fortune, And that your powerful lineage Affords you freedom through your rank, And that she has granted you not one part Of your wealth and lordship, Which are yours by birthright instead, The lord who rules and establishes justice Quite often takes vengeance Upon his creatures so obscurely No one can understand, Imagine, or conceive it, And all too mysteriously Brings one down while lifting another high. His judgment is a pit: No man knows the tenth of it, Nor of His mercy either, Accommodating itself to every kind of grace. Many times He lets loose the thunder To destroy everything, turning it to dust, Or death, or the wind that blows To humble and obliterate all that is, Or Fortune, who laughs and cries And ruins her own in no time at all With such force and mastery That you see her control many Who are born noble and powerful, And though she has given them nothing, She takes back quite quickly, When she pleases, what she has not given. And would you like to know clearly, With nothing left out, the whole truth about The origin of power and nobility? Then look to the book by Boethius, Who will tell you, should you wish to listen, That all the goods you can lose Come from Fortune, who quickly reclaims The good she has bestowed. And if he were free from vice And supplied with virtues, A shoemaker would be a nobleman And a king a peasant, who would do Evil and villainous things. And so nobility, I affirm to you, Has its origin in the good and noble heart. Kings have this, and no more, to their credit. Furthermore she can grant benefits To a prince much greater Than those he has from mother and father. Yet such a gift leaves a bitter taste, For she often reclaims at the same time Her own and the other too, so I believe, That is, not only what she has given But what you can claim by right. Thus all that is yours and your Heritage is indentured to her. So there is no man alive exempt From Fortune, none who can boast He is not in her hands, for no man Can escape her, nor be proud Justifiably unless he’s reclothed Himself with virtues and good habits. But the well-educated man In whom the virtues have taken root Is not subject to Fortune’s power, For she can do his character No hurt or harm; though hers are His goods, she can’t have his virtues. For the virtues are gifts God bestows On the man who lives righteously, And these develop if acquired In the proper fashion, Through the pursuit of arms or great learning, Or by experiencing a great many Misfortunes, labors, and torments. He is wise who struggles this way. Riches are Fortune’s gifts, And these, just like the moon, Have their course, their comings and goings, Never remaining in one place Unless they are troves Of gems, money, or gold, Locked up or guarded. But when a man is put in the ground He cannot take them along; Instead someone else will have them to enjoy And dispose of, perhaps waste, Making a great cake from another’s dough. But just as the stars Shine more brightly than candles, And are placed in the firmament To give light forever, So the virtues shine and will shine. Just as they were, so shall they be, For Fortune doesn’t harm them With tears or laughter, With goods or promises, Not in poverty or prosperity. Not in any way, but know it as the truth That she cannot dislodge Or shift them, by St. Denis, No more than Mt. Senis might be moved. And so, friend, I tell you Draw the virtues to you, Disregarding all else, For they smell sweeter than roses, While riches and vices stink, For at one blow they kill body and soul. Reading in his book, The wise Solomon said this: “Lord, do not lead me into Either extreme poverty or wealth, But help guide my life So I can live honestly, Neither vomiting up nor blaspheming Your name, doing you injury.” He did not say this for nothing, Fearing rather the trouble That comes with being either poor or rich. For here’s too much strife and turmoil, There being nothing the impoverished Would not agree to for money. And the rich do even worse, Bearing within their hearts So much evil and malice, So much pride, greed, and envy That it couldn’t be recounted to you. The man burdened with either wealth or poverty Does himself an evil turn. So the man who wishes to live securely Is best off with the middle way, I assure you, which is the safest, Providing he finds it sufficient. For if the kingdom of France And all the empire of Rome, Even the whole world itself belonged To one man, he would be a beggar If this were not enough for him. I am not saying that one can’t find among the rich Men so good according to every test That none better could be found Whoever would put them to a difficult trial. And whoever would try them, He could find none better. Now perhaps in your youth Your heart and mind were directed Toward vice and vanity, Toward filth and vileness, And you didn’t acknowledge The goods you have received From God as you should have. For if in this world you had Nothing more except that He’d given you life itself, freeing you From death in Hell through your baptism, Made from words and chrism, And if you were immortal By your merit, and more pleasing To Him than any saint ever was, You should still be worthy of rejection, Not of rank high enough to serve Him, Deserving of only one part In every five hundred thousand Of the substantial goods He gives you And has bestowed many times Upon you, these from His merit, not yours. So I don’t know if He’s taking retribution For your sins as a young man. But if He is, it seems to me He is serving you quite good notice, And you should always direct your full attention Toward your resolve to attempt The defeat of every villainous vice While serving Him graciously, For He leads and points you toward His love If He is punishing what you did as a young man, Just as He did with Manasseh, Who suffered many a hard trial in prison. And truly, should you do the same You would be so transformed by His love He should return you all your land; And those that hate will come To love you in one turning of the sun If your eye and heart focus on His love, For He demands nothing more. Now you have an answer to your question. And if you say: “Alas! I’m dead, For my troubles number more than a thousand, My thoughts more than a hundred thousand And these are terribly confused With memories and miseries that are Sad, poignant, fierce, long-lasting, While my desire is ever sleepless, Tormenting me to the brink of death. And I possess so little hope For myself, in truth, I expect Never again to have joy or any other good thing. Rather I am dead, or would be, For all my thoughts oppose me And are my mortal enemies; And when Memory comes to me, It makes me weep painfully, For in this world it brings me nothing good, But rather gnaws at, discomforts me, And the pangs I feel, In their hundreds and thousands, With their power deprive me Of blood, composure, self-control, and strength. Desire stabs me; desire assails me. Desire assaults me forcefully and often. Desire makes me suffer so much. Desire won’t let me endure; From pain and difficult grief I shall die should such misery go on. And my hope has so diminished My heart finds no delight there Because it lacks force and power, Nor any happiness worth a straw, And all on my dear lady’s account, Whom I faithfully love, by my soul, For I am afraid of losing her. Alas! That would be too great a loss For me, miserable if I lost her. And from no turning, wind, or path Can news come that I’d hear Which might gladden my sorrowing heart, Nor which would speed on my thoughts And so make contact with her In order to commend myself, And thus my heart is pained, my face drained of color. Surely, nothing troubles me so much, Not even prison or any other pain I suffer.” Friend, I could offer a good response To all these points if I wished; But first you must Direct your attention And listen closely To my words, retaining them, For the man who, though listening, Does not understand what’s said, fares the same As the one who seeks yet doesn’t find, Wasting his time and search. Now listen to what I say, For in my heart I feel anger and pain Now that you have turned your benefit into an ill And were not better prepared To recognize the perfect good Sweet Thought created for you, Along with Memory and Desire, And Good Hope, which desires even more To remain by your side to comfort you, However long this situation lasts. And yet your understanding is so poor You have no desire at all That they serve you in their way When you feel the greatest need of them, Thinking instead a discomfort Their goods, their sweetness, their consolation. And so, friend, I intend to show you, In order to lessen your sorrow, What Sweet Thought provides When a lover merits and deserves it. Sweet Thought is something Enfolded in a lover’s heart, Brought to life by Memory (Otherwise she’d never come to be), So sweet, so pleasing, So pleasant, and so amorous There are few things more satisfying To those hearts sick with love. And however much she makes herself felt, She is invisible, in truth, For no man sees or touches her Save him to whom she comes. And though he feels her in his heart, He never sees her, not even a trace. But she is of such high estate She makes forgotten every pain And trouble in a lover’s heart, And this is why I exhort, Advise, and counsel you To do whatever I say. I have told you that Sweet Thought Comes to life through Memory, And this means that whenever, as it happens, You remember your lady, (Providing in times past you have not Disregarded her wishes, But rather have served her without deception) You should conceive in your heart, Imagine, develop, and form the image Of her sweet face’s beauty, And the golden curls, tight and long, Hanging down to her heels, And the compass of her sweet eyes, Daintily resting upon you, And also her sweet little mouth, Red and smiling just so, The soft, endearing speech That schooled you in love, Her forehead, her smooth throat, Her neck whiter than new fallen snow, And the shape of her noble body With no trace of flaw. And then you should consider And number in your heart The virtues she is blessed with And her good reputation as well, Her ways, her habits Which in complete perfection So perfect her body and soul She is considered to be the best woman In the world, the most beautiful as well. Every man calls her virtuous and good. You should now have the imprint From forming the image Of this pleasant figure Sweet Thought conjures up for you, And thus you should build an image In your heart, doing homage to it. And if you have gained the benefit of her favor From your lover’s good deeds, Then in her presence you should recall And relate them demurely, one by one, And she will console you In your suffering, coming to your aid. She will relieve the bitterness of your pain And cool your fever; She will nourish your hunger And slake your terrible thirst. If you’re sleeping on the hard ground, Without a rug or coverlet, On the dirt, on leaves or straw, Or on a crude bed, supposing one’s provided you, She will ennoble you so much You shall forget all that, Bearing with good patience All your misery and hurt. You have also told me how Desire Has brought you grievously low, Prolonging your days and nights, And you maintain it pains you too much. But if you felt no desire for her, Truly you’d love her but little, For a lover is impelled to love In proportion to his desire, And when desire flees from him Little love then comes his way. But you’ve been too much hardened By these pains you speak of, Which are so bitter and sour for your heart, Unrelenting and miserable, That your tears number more than five hundred, And in these more than five hundred buckets of water. I consider it great stupidity That you weep insanely over this, For they are nothing more than the memories, Recollections, and remembrances Of that image figured In your heart by Sweet Thought. You should take pleasure there, Discover great joy and peace In the fact that Love and your pretty lady Make you lead such a pleasant life Feeling the pains of love, And these are sweet, not bitter at all. Concerning the hope you have lost Truly here you did yourself harm, Sweet friend, having left it behind, Clinging to something foolish Since nothing is as necessary For what you must do As holding onto an unshakable hope. You should not doubt, But rather study it with care, And if you want to discover what power it has, Without missing anything, Look in Remedy for Fortune And in my Lay of Good Hope Where I show love to hope, while despising despair. In any case, I’ll say two things. Surely I’ll risk boasting of this benefit (And let no one dare contradict me!): Namely that in love nothing’s so good, Nothing a lover should love as much As hope, after mercy. So I advise you to regain And keep it firmly in your heart Along with her gracious image. And then you will have a lover’s company, Just like a trinity, For here will be a unity Of you, hope, and the image. Follow this course and you’ll act wisely. If you do, it will serve you well, For afterward the time will come When your lady discovers your circumstances, And if she learns you are holding Her image constantly in your heart, Then she will never forget you, But love you more than before. And too I promise you She is so stable, full of truth, Just, loyal, and loving That in such perfect goodness No betrayal could exist. When the good poet Orpheus Was moved to go Seek Eurydice with his harp In a very strange country — And this was straight into The region of Hell, where her dwelling was, Because of the serpent which bit Her in the heel, causing her death — If he had had no hope Of regaining her, he would not have made his way To the place for whatever goods there are In the whole world, But truly Hope guided him there, And urged him to make the attempt. So he traveled in great haste Right before the palace of sadness In Hell where many a sorrowing soul Weeps, sighs, goes mad with grief. Three ladies full of rage stood At the mouth of the passage, Mistresses who were so powerful They were called goddesses, The first of pride, the second of envy, The third of deception in all its forms. They brushed their hair full of snakes, Busying themselves with nothing other Than combing and fixing their hair, Forcing all souls to turn Into the infernal flame, Always burning and blazing. Orpheus, who had his harp with him And who could sing better than anyone else, Knowing both the theory and the practice Of all kinds of music, Being their sovereign master more Than any man born, or to be born, Tuned up his harp at once And played a sorrowful lay, Singing with a voice soft and soothing, And so filled with wonderful melody That by his voice and instrument He made Hell’s torments cease, For the infernal captives rejoiced In this sweetness as they heard it. I have looked at his lay many times, Reading it from beginning to end, But it contains nothing more Than a request for the return of Eurydice his beloved. Even more, I can say this to you about him: The great sweetness of his lyre Made the wood nymphs his companions, Made tall trees bend Toward him to hear his song. And still there’s more I could say, For a great multitude of all the creatures Assembled there to give him shade. Wild deer and savage beasts Followed him through the woods. He made the rivers flow Toward him when he pleased So they might hear his song and harp, Which sweetly resounded and rang out. Many a tear was shed In that valley of shadows By those souls who forgot their troubles As they listened to the song. And the king of Hell as well Threw down his helm and pitchfork, Stopping, because of the wonder, His torture of souls. Proserpine marveled greatly at all this, She who is queen and lady of Hell And had been ravished by Hell’s king In a garden where he saw her, Picking little flowers there Along with several of her damsels. Now I’ll put aside my theme A while to tell you in detail How Proserpine enjoyed Such royal estate for her beauty’s sake From Typhoeüs, from Venus, And why Pluto came To search out and see if that other Wished to destroy or bring down Hell. I tell you that Typhoeüs Was a much too foolish giant, Who intended to defeat in war The gods of earth and sky. But the gods grew so terribly angry at this They exacted a cruel vengeance. He was not warned or reprimanded, But, instead, was put between four mountains Terribly huge and strange. The prideful one was right in the middle, For he intended to debase the gods And have himself thought greater. He had Aetna atop his head, And this pained him greatly; The second on his feet, the third on his left hand, And the fourth was on his right. There the captive was so oppressed, So tormented, so constrained He knew well he was wrong. There he twisted and turned, Shaking the four mountains so violently, The king of Hell, because of this commotion, Became so terrified that suddenly He rode out from his palace On three horses darker than blackberries To go and see for himself If there were some crack or break In the walls of that hellish enclosure, For he wanted to do what was necessary Should he spot any damage. There across mountains and valleys rode Pluto on his magical steeds Never stopping, with no bridle, no harness. It was horrible, monstrous to behold. Venus, who was close nearby, Spoke to her sweet, dear lover, Whom she was kissing and embracing (No other pleasure did she wish), Saying quite endearingly to him: “Lover, below the firmament No creature escapes you, However short his clothes or long his cape. All acknowledge your great power And pay you obeisance. See there Pluto, god of Hell, Harder, blacker than iron. Show him what you can do For he is of such low estate He refuses to call you lord. Lover, I beg you, make him fall in love.” Cupid listened to her request, And granted her it, quickly readying himself To draw an arrow on the god, One quite well made and of very great power. Cupid picked up his Turkish bow, Plucking an arrow from his quiver, And this was sharp and pointed, Long, straight, well-feathered. He placed the arrow on his bowstring, Drew back firmly and loosed it. He dealt the god of Hell such a blow He sent both the arrowhead and the arrow Right into his guts, and he would have Fallen dead were he not so strong. Now Pluto’s captured by love, But he hardly stays put in that spot, Rather he rides off, comes back, gallops and searches. Circling round about in his quest, He traveled so far and so quickly He arrived in Perguse. And Perguse was a garden So pretty, so noble, that, to judge fairly, No place was more delightful. Spring there lasted forever. All who are and have been there Could not describe the garden’s delights In twenty-four summer days It was so filled with beauty, Redolent with a pleasant and pure fragrance. Beautiful Proserpine was in that place, Picking, with her companions, Roses, eglantine, violets. But as soon as Pluto spied her, He fell in love and proceeded to carry her off. In a loud voice Proserpine called out: “Help, you gods! Help! Help! Oh Ceres, goddess of the corn, I’m being carried off and ravished! Alas! Mother, what will become of me? Surely, I’ll never see you again.” Pluto took off in great haste, Hardly at a trot or run, Instead he seemed thunder itself. He raised such a cloud of dust around him It reached up to the clouds. He kept Proserpine right in the middle, Not wanting anyone to notice her. He knew well the most direct route, Passed through the places of the suffering And those of many other evildoers. Cyane witnessed the wonder, Greatly displeased, marveling much At Dis, who was carrying off the goddess, And she, weeping, was sorely troubled. Cyane left her fountain behind And cried out in a loud voice: “Dis, you’ll not take her from here! You’ve done wrong to abduct her. I’ll prevent you from passing, For you are in the place that belongs to me. Surrender the maiden to me at once!” When Dis heard what she had just said, He spurred his horses, speeding on And, saying not a word, powerfully went his way. The path Pluto picked ran Toward the inhabitants of Sicany. To oppose him was Cyane’s wish, But she could not make him halt, For the evildoer, may God condemn him, Was too skilled in wrongdoing and deceptions. He struck the water and the earth opened. This was how he thought to proceed, For his path was there, his entrance Into the world of shadows. Here Proserpine by chance Lost her flowers and sash, And they tumbled into the fountain, Which was sweet, clear, and pure, But the fountain roiled up, And Cyane was so troubled by this, And also because the goddess had been abducted, That, weeping, she ended her life. Ceres came upon the sash, Seeking her daughter in many a place, And this was the first clue Proserpine furnished her. I cannot tell you everything Pertaining to this painful story: How Ceres went searching out and seeking Her daughter across the entire earth; How she came to put under interdiction Sicany and all who dwelled therein; How she made perish in the street All the beasts of burden, Ruining the work completely; How she brought the outrage committed By the king of Hell to Arethusa’s attention; How Ascalaphus blamed Proserpine, whom he saw eating The fruit of Hell in a garden; How she could have returned above Had she not eaten it. But I have recounted to you the rape Of Proserpine committed by Pluto, Just as the written text has it. Now I’ll return to my subject. Tantalus, who there suffered terribly from thirst And yet had water all around him, Forgot his thirst, his torment Because of the very sweet melody Of the good poet who enchanted All Hell with song and music. Ixion’s wheel came to a halt, And it is certainly a terrible thing That around him are burning wheels, With the sufferer atop, facing down. And the huge rock, heavy and miserable, Did not trouble Sisyphus at all. And Tityos, who was offering his guts And prostrate body to vultures, Was distracted from his evil fate, Nor did the vultures pay him any mind, Hearing his harp, the sound Of his song, and its passion. The beautiful nymphs threw down The sieves they were carrying And their buckets without bottoms; They grieved terribly, doing no good, For they never stopped scooping The water that was spilled to save it. But they wasted their efforts completely, For the fountain was already destroyed. They are the three daughters of Belus. I say no more of them, but not a one of them Ever did anything else Nor took a rest from that task. To be brief, all the queens of Hell Cried huge tears, For never had they seen the like; And this so strongly moved The god of that dark prison He had Eurydice sent for With great haste, returning her To the poet, who was waiting, But this was only on one condition, Namely that Orpheus should walk in front, And she behind, and if he looked Back, then he would lose her. But love or desire, that drive hearts Mad, or some crazy thought, Made him look behind him, And Eurydice, without delay, Flew back to that horrible prison, Which was too horrible and full of pain, Vanishing thus from his eyes. Orpheus hastened back after her, But it did no good; he knew quite well He would never possess her again. Nothing he might say could avail Since he had lost her forever. Nevertheless the fool returned, Remaining seven days altogether By that gloomy entrance, And no one brought him anything. He satisfied his thirst with tears, Fed his hunger with grief. But however long he stayed, However much he moaned, or cried out, However willing he was to mourn, He would never see her again. And so then he left that place, Grieving terribly, enduring great hardship, Leaving behind Eurydice the lame, And he returned to Rhodope, Becoming a man of such condition I have not the will to speak of him, For it would corrupt and pollute the very air To bring up such a disgusting story. Now afterward he would never call any lady Beloved, nor would he love a woman. And so the women of Sicany, Because he would not accept Their love, stoned him. Spears and darts they threw at him, Stones, rocks, and rough clods; And they did so with all their might. But the poet, singing, Enchanted the hard stones, And so these did him no harm, Turning soft as they came near. Then the women, may God damn them, Played too great a trick, For together they made Such a very loud noise, so I think, That the song intended to put a spell On the rocks could no longer be heard, And so the enchantment failed, The one caused by his sweet song. Nor did he ever sing again, Charmed neither wood nor river; Instead the divine poet Died on the spot, fell down on his face. The nymphs from the wood bewailed him Bitterly, for they loved him very much, And the different kinds of trees did the same, The tall, the tiny, and those of middling size, The rivers too Wept deeply for him, And thus roiled up, Swollen, much higher. I cannot tell you all that happened: What became of his head, his lyre; How Phoebus saved him From the proud serpent that came upon him; And how his soul made its way down To Hell, and how Lucifer Granted him the companionship Of Eurydice, his wife and beloved, For this would be too long To recite and rhyme. But according to poetic tradition This was how he lived and died. Do you think that had Orpheus known He should not possess Eurydice, He would have risked Following a path so arduous? Not at all! But Hope led him on To struggle so nobly He would have accomplished his aim Had love not prevented him. And so, friend, whatever might happen Make sure Hope is your constant companion, For she is the friend best suited To accompany any heart. When Paris went to seek out Helen, For whom he suffered much pain, He traveled there in the hope Of gaining her love and friendship. And when he saw how very beautiful she was, He carried her off — and she willing — Into the temple of the goddess Juno. Venus thus fulfilled the promise That she had granted the man When he had been given the task Of awarding the golden apple That Discord had brought before The three goddesses of worthiness, The first of intelligence, the second of love, The other of possessions or wealth. Each woman wanted to possess it, But Venus said so much to him The foolish shepherd awarded it to her. And thus Troy was completely destroyed, Its people all killed or sent into exile, And he himself dead as well, Causing Helen much terrible grief, And she cried many a bitter tear With Hecuba, her beloved mother. Paris took her with him and his people by boat Across the sea to Troy Where his dwelling was Inside the fortress of Ilion. Do you believe that if Paris had thought Lady Helen would be angry with him And he should fail to win her love, He would have gone to seduce her? Not at all, but since he didn’t fail, I maintain that hope availed him greatly, And it is hope and imagination That carry the day — here’s my main point — And the affairs of all who cling well To them come to a better end. When Hercules struggled Against Achelous, whom he struck down, For the sake of beautiful Deianira, (And she was so beautiful, to tell the truth, That no other lady or damsel Was so noble or attractive), Achelous had the ability To transform himself into A great river or a serpent An acre in length, Or make himself into a wild bull Whenever it pleased him; And so he changed then into a proud bull. Hercules seized him By the right horn, attacking him so fiercely He pulled it off, breaking it, And this pained Achelous, His horn severed and cracked. The Naiads took it, Filled it with flowers and spices, With apples, and they carried it off, Afterward making sacrifices And using it in their ceremonies Whenever they made their offerings. And do you know what became of Hercules? He lived on more than twenty years In such great toil, such great trouble That all the world buzzed about him. But beautiful Deianira Made him die in terrible suffering, Though not through malice, Rather doing so in ignorance With the shirt soaked in poison She brought to him. Nessus was a sagittarius Hercules struck down with a javelin So that he was bound to die, But he made the beautiful woman believe That as long as that man wore the shirt He would love no other with passion. And the beautiful lady driven mad by love Was deceived like a fool So that, believing his enemy, She lost Hercules her beloved. But Hercules was not faithful at all To her, finding instead another paramour Whom he did love, a young girl Called Iole the beautiful, Loving her so much, and it’s the truth, He lost mind and memory, His honor, and his chivalry. Afterward Deianira was gripped By such a fatal jealousy She sent him the shirt Through Lichas, who was transformed Into hard rock (yet enduring in the ocean). Hercules revenged himself in this way, But thereafter he did not drink or eat, Dying instead, and was turned into a god By the gods themselves and glorified. Do you think that Hercules, had he Not possessed Hope, could have had Such a pleasing and noble victory? I don’t say that one should trust in Hope to accomplish everything, But she does comfort and encourage, Gives heart and fortitude Wherever she truly is. And also there present Was the sweet image, elegant and noble, Of beautiful Deianira, Which Hercules often contemplated. In the same way you can contemplate The image within you, marveling at Her great beauty, her elegant presence, And her noble body so finely proportioned, Hoping that there will come Some fine day when she’ll bring you Joy through what she says and does From her heart, noble, loyal, and flawless. But, for the reason I intend to explain, Make certain your energies Should always and first of all Be directed to serving God devotedly, For there is no love that compares To His love, by the faith I owe the Holy Father, Not anything worldly, however pure it might be, And nothing beyond earthly ken, No more than a graven image Compares to a living creature. Moreover I wish to explain something comforting From which I draw much consolation, And you should find comfort there too Even as you hear and it pleases you, Providing you listen to me a while. I can declare and prove That your captivity is best for you, Is to your good, profit, and honor. It’s often said in town And considered as the gospel truth (I have many times heard it defended) That one of four things would have been your lot Had you remained among us: For you would have been dishonored, Killed, captured, or victorious In the battle, and this last, doubtless, Would have been quite difficult to manage, As anyone familiar with the event would admit, For knights in their armor fled In great numbers, but not all, Because the great nobles stood fast, Yet all the others ran away. There the good king of France was captured, A man with the courage and resolve Judah Maccabee did not possess, Or Hector and Julius Caesar, Alexander or Charlemagne, Who ruled the empire as his own territory, Godfrey de Bouillon or Arthur, Ajax, Achilles, or Troilus, Gawain, Tristan or Lancelot, Roland or Ogier — and I dare well say so — Guillaume, Oliver, or Pompey, And none of these ever had such a good day, Never accomplishing as much as did he. For in one day he undid a great many; Yet he alone was not enough To beat them all down, For beside him his knights Were killed or taken, dying miserably, And he himself then captured; it’s pitiful and sad. Now I pray God And his mother send him back to us, And that patience might be with him, And this I desire myself With a good heart and a true will. But I must prove to you What I’ve said beyond any objection. Better for you to have been buried alive Or die ten times than to flee, For you would have been dishonored If you had not stood in your place, And if you had died there, God would have granted you honor and mercy. And if it happened that you were captured, Surely you’d never be happy about it, For you’d have been so evilly treated, So molested, so injured Because ten times more than you own Would have been asked for you, And you’d have lost the flower of your remaining days, No insignificant thing as I see it. But rather this seems to me, and no lie, What you should most grievously have lamented; For, perhaps, you should have spent The rest of your life in such a filthy place, Maybe for a term of twenty years. You would have been better off ripping out your teeth Where you are (and I’ll prove it to you, And whoever stands on firm ground, let him not move), Or if you’d been in England, Imprisoned under lock and key, You could not have come or gone, And you should have had no one to talk to Unless you learned the language In your prison and in your cell. But it’s no easy thing To learn under such circumstances. There you’d not have found truthfulness, Fairness, reasonableness, or pity, Pleasure, love, but rather just the opposite Of how you ought to be treated. You can understand this quite clearly Because of authentic and relevant experience, Since many have been undone and killed, Dishonored, brought down, and ruined, Insofar as their nobility, honor, and goods are concerned. And many have died Through this particular misfortune, and their heirs Will never make a recovery, And this makes it a terrible loss and injury. But such is the way and the common experience Of the times that come upon us, For we see it constantly. And so you have had no bad luck, but I maintain Things instead have gone your way quite well, And it’s to your benefit, to your honor That you were taken by a lord Who will do what is right, offer you justice And mercy if he’s asked. I now intend to continue with my message, Offering some further advice. I am convinced you will get out Soon or be released honorably, And that God will grant you this, For, by my soul, I would have it so. I beg you to be so disciplined That, wherever you go, Honesty and honor will always Be evident in all your deeds and words, What you say with your mouth and in your heart, For it’s villainous and shameful, Certainly dishonorable as well To speak dishonestly. For God’s sake, don’t be inconstant, But just, firm, and stable instead, The same when things go your way as not, And don’t forget my admonition, For it will serve only too well the man Who wants God to grant him honor. You need have only a single word, Yet you should not speak anything but the truth Because your words will be heard And noted more than those of others. Be happy and free from worry, And let your goods be shared out to everyone, Willingly and with a good heart, For otherwise the gift is not complete Since a prince full of avarice Is never worthy, so great is the vice. Don’t worry about acquiring wealth, For honor will come to you Along with riches if you’re worthy. Should you become a slave to your riches Such servitude would be shameful. Be aware, good friend, you should be Disgraced and dishonored. Fie on wealth without honor! Honor, on the contrary, is a good unlinked to wealth, And surely, to have honor and yet be poor Is a much greater nobility Than to be a great man without honor And yet possess a huge amount of gold. Nevertheless I maintain, and here’s the point, No wealth is worth as much as honor. Honor is the grain, wealth the chaff, And so the honorable man is the rich one, Nor would he give two peas for gold Since he wants for nothing If honor remains and he lacks possessions. Take as your model the good king of Bohemia, Who in France and Germany, In Savoy and Lombardy, In Denmark and Hungary, In Poland, Russia, Krakow In Masovia, Prussia, and Lithuania Did venture to win glory and honor. He bestowed fiefs, jewels, land, Gold, silver, kept nothing But the honor, treasuring it. And he had more than anyone else. Of great men he was considered the best. My whole heart rejoices at his virtue, And also because he supported me. He could never weary Of giving, and he possessed so much At all times wherever he went. And by my faith, if it happened He had two hundred thousand pounds, In a single day he would be rid of them, Giving everything to his knights, And then going off without a penny. I know this well, for I have seen it happen More than fifty times, in fact, But not, I should add, with so great a sum As I have described and mentioned above. That was a random example. In short, he did not care for money, Desired nothing but honor. His heart drew him toward this alone. If he had only a grey cloak Of Polish or Frisian cloth And a horse, and that was all, These would more than suffice. He did not have everything he wanted For often turnips were his dinner, Beans and black bread, Herring and garlic soup Since he lacked better food. And I’ll tell you more, though not asked: No rug or curtain Or anything else covered His bed; rather he took whatever he Found at his resting place. Never was there His like in the world, no one so long suffering. He was impatient about nothing. And if he was in a pleasant town Or in a place where he could do so, Whatever he found he would share out with all, Giving away and getting rid of everything, But in his house he should find better comfort Than any other man did in his. Yet I swear to you and maintain He remained at such a pinnacle Of honor there was no nobleman so great Among his neighbors, not even Rome’s emperor, Whom he would not seek out Right in the middle of his country If he wished to attack or make war upon him. He was not hated by his people, But rather every man loved and served him Because he was well deserving. And he so quickly moved to act There was never a lord I saw With sufficient might To spend even a single night in his territory. What did he accomplish first in Bohemia? Whoever might applaud or complain, Through the force of arms and allies He did subject these people. Though they all rebelled Against him, he prevailed in the war, Fighting many battles, And thus humbling many a great pride. Afterward he went to Esslingen, A village in Duringen. There he assembled his knights And with a very noble company He engaged in a battle Right in the midst of a great river, Reddening and staining the water For half a league around. But he humbled his enemies To his honor and profit. From there he went to Bavaria, And with banners flying And a host noble and powerful He harassed the Duke of Austria. Indeed he seized him forcefully By the helmet in the middle of the fight And led him off to Bürglitz, His fortress, where there were no lilies Because it was cold in summertime. Well I know it, for I’ve been there. The king should be honored by Mars, For his were a hundred thousand marks And several fine castles, These the good ones in Bohemia. Thence he proceeded to Poland, After much struggle conquering it. He also won Breslau, Which belonged to Duke Boleslas, And thirteen dukes there gave him Their complete loyalty because of his valor. I saw this, and so I bear witness, And everywhere I’ll attest to it. More than ten years he called himself its king. And afterward he went Straight to the kingdom of Krakow And across the ice into Lithuania. He had Christianized in one village More than six thousand unbelievers. The place was called Medvegalis, And don’t consider it a mere tale That afterward he took four fortresses, The most dominant in that country: Šiauduva and Gediminas, Geguže, Aukaimis, and afterward There was no man or woman Who did not lose body and soul; Nothing at all, in fact, was still alive, Despite the Khan of Tartary To whom Lithuania is tributary. And then the king harassed them terribly, Devastating more of their territory Than what lies between Bruges and Paris. Indeed I was present at that celebration. I witnessed it with the eyes in my head. Then he traveled twice to Prussia, Gaining much honor, and to Russia as well. Afterward in Lombardy he was victorious, At Parma, Regia, Modena, Pavia, And then at twelve other cities. This is well known to be the truth. He was the lord of Pietrasanta And of Lucca, but more than a hundred, Truly more than a thousand, speaking a single voice, Did accord him the title of the peaceful king. What did he accomplish before Besenova, At Sivan and at Lindow, And before Laa where the Hungarians Were a hundred thousand men (that’s the figure)? He did so many incredible things, And these were remarkable, well-conceived, risky. If I wished to relate them all, I could hardly tell you Or recount them in a day and a half. And furthermore he never had an enemy He didn’t punish in such a way That he gained honor thereby. But before he ended his life, Through good sense, arms, and power He made his son king, duke, Marquis, and count — so says he who says truly — And established him as lord of the empire. Of him I intend to say no more Except that he has all the wealth he could want. And so, good friend, if you would Remember well this lesson, It will sound sweetly in your heart. Of what he did on the other side of the Rhine, I will say nothing, but many good pilgrims, Many knights and many ladies, Know that nothing was blameworthy. Above all else guard carefully your loyalty; Let neither ugliness nor beauty, Love, impulse, or hate, No thing at all in the world persuade you To give yourself to disloyalty. It’s terribly unfitting for the kingly heart. Of course, it would be the same for a man Lacking the price of an apple, But in a prince this is more noticeable Than in his impoverished counterpart. And if any man should attack you, Make war on your lands, Follow the counsel of those who’ll carry out Whatever they advise you, For health and life itself Are both at risk; and so don’t worry at all That they might offer you bad advice For any reason since they’d be shamed so doing. Don’t ever make clerks your war advisors, Since they should pray for souls, Should compose and write, Sing masses or do the readings, And offer their opinions In councils and parliaments, And so all should hold so firmly to his rank There will be nothing to regret. If you feel your enemy is On the move, send for all your allies, And frame a request at once So effective, so pleasing, so intelligent No one could improve on it. But be on your guard about countermanding Because refusals to serve the kingdom Have set fire to many a thatched roof, And the results endure In many places and locations. And if you must make such an excuse, Take care to commend yourself to God, And in all humility richly Recompense those you can, Offering hounds and birds To the knights and the young men. If you’ve anything to give, then give; And if you don’t, then say pleasantly You will reward them well, And do so when you have the means. If you do this, all will love And serve you with a willing heart. And if you fight or quarrel With a neighbor who provokes you, Determine first if you are right; And if you are, you should with courage Defend yourself at every pass. But I would advise and instruct you Not to mortgage your heritage, To pay for such expenses Because it might happen Another will take possession of it from you. And if indeed you’re wrong, Don’t be so stubborn at heart You refuse to see reason And abandon your error. Pay him, offer him enough To make everyone see well by your proposal That he is not right at all if he declines To accept, and if he refuses. Defend yourself ably and boldly Should he attack, and I firmly Believe God will aid you In such a right cause and confound him, For whoever does what he shouldn’t Will then suffer what he wouldn’t. And if it happens that an armistice, A truce, or other cessation is requested, Don’t for God’s sake violate it: You should harm your reputation too much, For truly, that’s treason. I’d fear for the retribution Our Lord God might exact From your person, your goods, your honor. Should it happen you find yourself Fighting some place And God grants you the victory, Good friend, don’t magnify yourself, But praise God since it comes from Him, Not you. And if it happens You capture your enemies, So they might not be too harmed Or badly treated, let generosity, Not greed, be your guide, And thus no one can see You not doing what you should, For whoever captures, then mistreats men Goes against honor and does wrong. Deal with them nobly in what you do, And in the end you will make out well, For one good deed inspires another, As is required in the profession of arms. And if as it happens you are defeated, Your knights killed and taken before your eyes, However much your heart might sorrow, Make sure your eye does not flow with tears, For this is how an old woman acts Who must weep for her mother’s soul. Always take good counsel and act Advisedly, for it seems to me That at this time a prince’s valor And wisdom should be the more readily displayed, Despite what might then happen, For victory cannot come To the man who becomes discouraged, And nothing is more necessary than reason and moderation Either in attacking or retreating. But in this particular situation you should act, As you can, and to your advantage, With honor and with wisdom. I should teach you in addition The motto of the good king of Bohemia. He would say a prince should Always be a victor in war But a loser in tournaments; More talk that day I didn’t hear. Still he didn’t esteem great strength Or armed knights if unrestrained, Men not always in complete Control of their leaders. Do you think you could assemble Such a great host of armed soldiers If your troops did not love you? Not at all! Some man could be called lord Though he is not one in his country Because his men hate him. And so, friend, do what you can To resemble the bird of prey Who desires the heart alone. If you have the hearts, you may easily Get both bodies and the upper hand, And thus honor and power, For they have nothing they will not give you And all will die before failing you. But do you think that being a miser, Hoarding your wine and meat, Gold, silver, jewels, Robes with gold-encrusted gems, Your chargers, coursers, and saddles Will help you to fine victories? Not at all! Don’t consider it, For such behavior is too stupid. On the contrary, sweetness, frankness, generosity, Friendship, love, courage, These will bestow on you honor And victory: a reward that pleases. And if your enemies are so powerful That through their efforts They occupy your lands despite you, Don’t be so overwhelmed By what might happen That you call a parley About a treaty, a peace, or a truce. Better for you to remain In Triers or Rome, never to return. Leave everything to Fortune And ride after them Even more forcefully. Thus revenge will be yours. But your honor would suffer too much And your ignominy be doubled Should you deal with them About any kind of amity As they continue to mistreat You and your lands while negotiating. But if your enemies agree To retire, I certainly then concur, With them gone, that you should negotiate From strength, and ably, wisely. If you see an advantage, then seize the chance. But I counsel and instruct you Whatever the treaty’s terms, To do the honorable thing, For honor everywhere demands and requires this: “Do what you must, whatever might follow.” The profession of arms requires it as well. Do what you must at once when you take up arms, Never believing anyone who says the opposite, For this is what every prince should do If he is not the kind who thinks of and values Honor and shame at the same price. And if you have no war to fight, You can attend to your possessions, What is rightfully, but not otherwise, acquired, In order to serve your good friends Well and richly, if appropriate for them; Or if you become involved beyond your borders, Traveling to a foreign land To find honor and chivalry, Be it in Castile or Grenada (And this is a very agreeable path) In Germany, in Romania, Or in Prussia or Lombardy, You’ll help yourself more discreetly Using your own resources, instead of borrowing. I beg you, moreover; whatever anyone might tell you, Take along the most able knights You can muster, Not those to be had for gold. Be sure to do so, near and far, And if you have them, you need not Fear dissension at all. Always take the men who choose to go, Avoiding dealings with scoundrels. For treasure matters not at all But rather the honor, reputation, and life Of the prince with such a company. And to be sure, one such is worth four others, Either as advisers or in battle. In easy times, or when hardship comes, Each man will strain to do his best. Nor can such men be persuaded Not to do honor to their calling. The man who finds strength with such men does well. I tell you the truth, whoever might make light of it, Admonishing you to do what is needed, For I can hardly pass over good counsel in silence. If you have read what is found above, Then I have brought it to your attention. When you take on men of no account, Surely you deliberately harm your cause, For they will waste more of your goods Than virtuous men would use up. And so you’ll lose your good name, Be less loved and honored, Impoverished, wretched, and beggarly. If they hold you in their bonds, Then Honor will never enter Your door, but be dead to you. If you take up arms, you’ll run The risk of being overwhelmed; For such men fear not shame And do not know that honor ennobles. So if things go badly for you, they could not Help at all, for it’s not in them. And so, friend, be on your guard Against such men and keep your distance from them, For a man should put in his eye The familiar herb, the one that won’t poison. Always have good spies, Whatever the cost, ones you trust, And pay them so handsomely That they will serve you courageously, And thus you’ll know your enemy’s Plans. This precept is The most important I know for someone in your place; For I affirm and promise you That a good spy is worth more — One who acts with discretion — Than a lawyer in parliament; For without good spying, it’s hardly possible To war successfully on one’s enemies. But a prince who knows well what they are about Brings honor to himself, confounds his enemies, Because he always has the advantage If he possesses courage, brains, or prowess. If you can ever sense or discover That your enemies intend To besiege you in a city, castle, Or town, always be guileful enough To have the key at once to open country And you will hear the birds’ song. And so don’t let a siege snare you Like some wolf in a trap. And if you are intent on remaining within, You must sally out into the open To fight for yourself without delay In order to defend your heritage Or your honor will not amount to much. Do what seems best at the moment, But I assure and promise you Sallying out is the safest course, The best, the most honorable, And the one that does the most harm To your enemies. And so I counsel, and this is the sum, Giving you this advice: That it’s not fitting at all For a prince to be besieged In his own citadel, for he ought to sally out, Pursue them vigorously, ride forth and give chase And thus along with his household Get rid of his enemies by the force of arms. If besieged he has no advantage, No more than does the king in chess When check and mate are called. Friend, avoid disaster of this kind And don’t shut yourself up, For this would hurt you, Since one never knows in such circumstances How long this situation might last. And since it’s quite apparent That a town is often destroyed By treason or the failure of provision, By famine or mutiny, Then a man, though besieged in a mighty fortress, Who looks to these four things has no worry: That is, if it is well supplied with good men, With catapults and other artillery. If these are lacking, The place can be taken by assault. And if God so furthers your cause That you take a fortress or town With ladies, damsels, Townswomen, young girls, and maidens, In the name of the Virgin Mary, Insofar as you are able, don’t allow Your men to violate, Mistreat, or deflower them. And if there’s a man who assaults them, Or tries to take them by force, Do what is just and it will be upheld, And by God, you’ll benefit greatly Since it’s dishonorable and terribly shameful For a prince to degrade himself By allowing such men in his army And such violations, and leave no uncertainty That in this case the women should Be under your safeguard. Friend, look after them And establish a code of conduct Whose terms every man will know, Doing what’s necessary to insure its observation. If not, it would be worth nothing. And if a woman is lying pregnant, Let your standard be raised at once On the roof of her house And see to it as best you can That no man touches her With foot, hand, or mouth. King John, virtuous son of the emperor Henry Did so, and I rejoice thereby, Namely that there was no man in his army so brave Who did not fear committing such a crime Or who in fact did not lose his head If he dared force himself on a woman. And he did something more For which God may esteem and value his soul. And I bear witness to it even now, Namely that never in a state of mortal sin Would he go to sleep or take up arms. Should such a man be greatly admired? Do the same and you’ll act wisely, This is a virtuous and fine practice, And the man who often confesses to God Renders Him a true and just account. But old sins and failings Make God count them as if playing hide and seek, Because the man does not see them clearly. And his confessor, listening to them, does not either. If you have two or three neighbors Intent on marching to destroy you, Don’t be on bad terms with all three at once. Whoever does so is a fool. Rather, if you can, be friendly toward them, Or at least to one or two, And thus if the third threatens, You need fear but little his menace. For if they are wealthy, powerful, and strong, You need to put forth great effort. Every prince eager for Success in his career does so. And, good friend, it’s often said: “The more friends, the fewer enemies.” Yet I would advise you even further To attend closely to something, And, I beg you, remember it: Don’t neglect in any way Your impoverished or less powerful enemy, For, by the faith I owe my own soul, Great misfortune has often been seen to result And it is easy enough to understand why, For he has only to bide his time, Cast about in his mind, and plot cunningly Just how he might do you harm; Yet you disregard him, Not being on your guard at all, And so do not protect yourself, And thus he can capture or kill you. And it often happens that lesser nobles Are more valiant and honorable Than princes and great lords Because necessity so demands it, And thus they try much harder. You see a small wound That is given no thought When the wounded man ignores it Will grow infected, swell, and worsen Until no adequate physician can be found, No man who would know what to advise, No healer who would know what to do. And so the man dies sometimes in pain. It’s just the same, may God protect me, With every prince who doesn’t look out For himself when he pushes for war, Not fearing his enemy. For I promise you, good friend, No enemy is so insignificant, And there is no wound that you should not Attend to. I have heard this said. Now remember it, I beg you, And don’t play games with your life. And don’t flagrantly violate the rules of honor By remaining sick inside your room When a man arrives at your court, For rumor, which runs fast, Will ruin your reputation everywhere, And so people will say: “He’s a relic Seen only once a year.” Your reputation will suffer in consequence. Be instead a companion to your knights, Your men at arms, your squires, Speaking to those of low and high degree (Don’t be reluctant to do so), And treating all women honorably Whether ladies or maidens, The great, the lesser, and those in between. Be careful not to treat any woman disrespectfully, For you’ll gain more honor Than you bestow when you act thus. Take meals often in your hall, And join in the assembly with your household, For in your presence they will be Much more satisfied and at less cost. But I beg you with great affection (And don’t take it lightly) Not to associate with boys Because such relations are too dangerous, And you should willingly take up arms For this is your sovereign calling. There is no other honor for you, no other endeavor Than arms, ladies, and moral conduct. Make sure you are served by the trustworthy, Bestowing on them your silver Or something else when they deserve it, Enough so they will serve you more loyally. Have no truck with fools or drunks, For such men are so reviled That no good can come of it. But certainly misadventure is likely. And whatever you say, keep clear From maligning anyone. And if people gossip with you at present, Beat it down as soon as possible. For many a person gossips about others Who has much to be reproached for himself. Be diligent and painstaking, For no lazy young man Can ever be a great success Or even hold onto his birthright, For he either loses it or someone takes it. You spend every day seeing This in the school of experience, So you should reflect carefully on it. Don’t let yourself be disinherited Because of anything you can be blamed for Since by my faith I would much rather, Were I an emperor or king, Expend all in a just war Than have a foot of land taken from me, For every disinherited prince Lives shamefully and in ill repute. Be humble, courteous, and frank, Indulgent toward your good friends As well as cruel to your enemies: Don’t ever be reluctant or remiss about it, And yet don’t revenge yourself with threats, With words or menace. Rather say little, do what you must, For the man is wise who does so. Furthermore I want to ask that you Refrain from pride above all else Because it is the worst of the vices, And the one our Lord hates the most, And it brings down the man, While sloth makes him a beggar. If you ever do something foolish And a poor man upbraids you for it, For God’s sake receive his reprimand gratefully, Just as if it came from a king, And think he will love you from the heart Though he will blame you in private. For whoever does not gracefully receive Instruction from all, deceives himself too much. And there’s no man, however perfect, Who does not err in word or deed. Inform yourself often about the voice of the people, What opinion about you is spread abroad. If good, give God thanks. But if bad, don’t seek revenge Because whoever wishes to redress every wrong Will never eat his bread in peace. So mend your ways before you are called to account And you will be acting the nobleman. If you want to do right and live well, You should be moderate in your habits, For eating many, insufficient meals Has led many men To their deaths, for it’s no life To persist in such gourmandizing, But rather the existence of a dumb beast, Always grazing, never at rest. Whoever doesn’t sleep and wake at proper times Harms himself so much He often hastens his death. He doesn’t know what he does hurts him. For at the least this is so great a strain One loses the health and energy To serve God and do what he should. You will kill yourself if you start this. What good are such late hours And then this oversleeping? Surely whoever gives himself to such habits Would never be well disciplined. But that prince who takes great pains, Attending with eye and mind To shake up his enemies, Should labor hard at that task. And surely, it’s not a labor, It seems to me, of little worth, But a respite that renews Honor, leading to new plans For greatly shaming one’s foes, Doing them harm in town and country. And so you don’t strain yourself at all When you stay awake for this reason Since there’s no honor — let he who wants laugh — So great as in the practice of such vigilance. Friend, don’t do anything so outrageous As to dissolve your marriage, For truly whoever tries to do this Angers God and brings misfortune on himself. Good friend, be discreet enough Not to tell your secrets, Nor the things you wish kept private To someone likely To reveal them — I won’t name names, But I except no man or woman. Nor can I keep silent, Not invoking as an example for you Your own virtuous father and mother, For this is what glorifies you more, Honors you more than their high station. They were so very moral and powerful Honor magnified them to such an extent That every good and virtue flowed from them. And your good predecessors moreover Acquired so much Honor, possessing more than anyone else, So look to what they accomplished, And you’ll do the opposite Of what you see done these days. They dressed honorably In very fine clothes, were richly Turned out with furs, nicely attired. They did not look wretched, For no king, without doubt, Was at that time so magnificent, Nor was anyone deserving of such love, For on this and that side of the ocean Their good reputation spread, And the honesty of their land. They had, if they pleased, — More allowed them than others — Rich and elaborate robes, Dressed with precious stones, With rubies, sapphires, and furs, But they didn’t care much about these, And they were rather indifferent About having such garments to wear. Now I see kings and counts, Dukes and princes who are not ashamed To don some coarse weave Badly cut to their size. I will say no more since it’s not fitting I report anything about the great lords That should or could displease them. But they witness the example Of others who act this way, Debasing both honor and nobility. And when such people want to glorify themselves They are easy to distinguish From the others and their own company Since they are covered with gold and silver, With furs and precious stones, More than any image worked with gold. Yet everyone in their retinues Dresses differently from every other, For the first wears blue cloth, Thinking it more stylish. The other is turned out all in green. Another dons garments Of cameline or fustian, With linen or some similar cloth. Someone else is all in black and white. His mate’s more red than blood; One in yellow wears a belt. Someone else has a loose-fitting gown, Another woven cloth, another a cheap surcoat. I don’t want to say or argue more about it, But they all have these pointed shoes, And everyone’s purse is there to see. Now if the nobles wished To discipline themselves, they’d dress them In what they wear themselves. And further I propose They should dress alike, Each according to his rank, Just as the virtuous used to do, The blessed now in paradise Who wore rich clothes Made of fine cloth, and in a genteel way. And therefore I beg you, dear friend, Always to have your heart in the right place So you maintain honesty — And this I’ve admonished you to do — For you should be eager to look To your household, mirroring yourself in them. For truly the man’s hardly foolish Who corrects himself through another, Though you will never find corrections more useful Than those you receive from yourself. Take, for example, the most valiant man From Nantes to Rome, Truly as far off as Cambelec, Or, even further, as far as L’Aubre Sec, And suppose he had a robe embroidered With gold, with silver, with precious stones, The richest and most magnificent Of those in France or Castile, And then let’s take a peasant Of the same size; their shadows, whatever Else one could say, would be as much alike As two crows might be, Though he wore goatskin; Or sackcloth, or linen. Wealth wouldn’t make a difference One way or the other, and nothing could make it so. And thus, friend, I promise you It’s no more than shadow or wind. And whoever does this to glorify Or gain more power for himself Does wrong, for such a foolish undertaking Makes a man from the very outset Fall prey to pride and vanity In his pitiful weakness. Is it not more honorable For you to see at your table Your knights, your squires, Your clerks and servants, your bailiffs All dressed similarly In the magnificent fashion of France, Than for each to be Dressed in a different way? I don’t know how such an agreement might be reached, But certainly this way is a hundred times better. I’ll say no more, but this other fashion is A misstep in this world and an abomination to God. I beg you to take counsel From virtuous men and to be eager To do what’s good for all, Just as Boethius did, As did many other philosophers, Suffering much pain as a result And being chased into exile. Scripture says the same, for those Who so act, the truth Destroys their iniquity. Furthermore I advise and caution you Not to trust the counsel of a young man, For it’s as great a danger As perishing and dying. If you don’t have an old and wise Man in your land, have one sought elsewhere, Nor should you worry about your expense. Spare nothing, for doubtless He’ll repay what you spend If he thoughtfully considers your needs. If anything attracts you, Don’t take such pleasure in it You neglect your duties. Make sure you always fear shame, For the prince drawn there Is railed at by all the world, And it’s the same with this hunting In the woods and foolish ventures, For one can attend too much to them. I am not saying you shouldn’t indulge When there is not much to do, For this is something necessary enough. I know well entertainment’s needed; That I will not dispute. But there is no recreation That should command the attention of The man who preserves his heritage, And does honor to himself in chivalry, More than does the divine refreshment Made of bread, water, and wine. I am not advising you to work all the time, But you should be aware of the state Of your affairs, for they will be worth more this way. Your household as well will fail you less Because the prince who doesn’t see to his own Often loses out, just like the man Who wants his people to be rich, Yet has nothing worth a cracker. The man is an absolute zero Who doesn’t know rent or tithe. And your men will pay better attention When involved in your affairs, Saying: “My lord wishes To know well what happens to his goods.” Hear your accounts diligently So that you will clearly see What you can spend in a year And where you should collect rents. You will also discover whether your collectors Are virtuous or deceitful. If they are trustworthy, you are wise enough To pay them generous wages. If they are dishonest, do what is just, Not acting unreasonably in any way. Rather you should take care at once To feel pity, not take vengeance. Take only rents from your people, In grain, in taxes, or in levies, For if you set out to fleece them, You would be better off a swineherd. Don’t enslave your subjects, For you ought always preserve Their rights and freedom, Which they received from you and yours. And if they do wrong, be merciful, For no man is without sin. And if you wish to have money coined, For God’s sake, make the kind Everyone will hear is good alloy. For I swear to you, by St. Eloi, There is nothing, great or small, Brings such curses upon a person Since everyone has and uses it, And there is no one who would not Put a curse on it, loudly or in a whisper, When finding something wrong with the coin, Blaming the great lords, the minters, The servants, all those responsible. Make sure, in good times And bad, your hand is always open to the poor, And God will reward you double, Always a dime for every nickel, For charity wipes out sin, As water does fire, reaching it. Don’t carry bitterness in your heart Toward a living person whom you do not Pardon, forgive, remove. And if it happens that you do feel bitter, Act with an intention so pure No sprout or twig or seed Ever remains to grow back, For, if not, the feeling might return, And no matter who did so, It would end badly for him. For he should not be concerned with The past, but of days to come And the present as well, and so past injuries Should be forgotten. Whoever forgives this way is wise, For God will grant him honor at once, Loving, preserving, and defending him, Keeping him from villainy. Friend, refrain from promising Anything you might not prove able To accomplish, for the man who promises Obliges and engages himself in the task. And if you cannot keep the agreement, Excuse yourself often and ably. In this way you will either be forgiven Or less faulted in the matter. Even further I pray you, good friend, Be honorable to your enemies With what you say (this costs little), And be worried and concerned Enough to take precautions In order to keep yourself safe. But make sure no one speaks slander In your presence, whatever anyone might say, For it is too poor a revenge, Or so it seems to me; and doubtless Whoever slanders or has another do so Harms himself more than his enemies. Take revenge some other way That is wise, honorable, and discreet. Refrain, friend, from dice playing, And don’t spend your time at it, Since this is too dishonorable an endeavor For the prince intending to live virtuously. Now it is not connected to liberality, But rooted in covetousness, And anyone who forms the habit Will have many speaking behind his back. But if you want to gamble a little, Play at “twenty big” or “twenty-four” With ladies and damsels, Those pure in heart and mind. And if you win their money, Return it at once to their people, And let it go at that, saying nothing more. But if you lose, do nothing but laugh. Don’t covet the inheritance Of your neighbor or seize it Through arrogance, for this would be A sin, whoever might do so. Friend, if you would see well, Make sure you’ve the mirror Of honor before your eyes, Everywhere and always, For all your actions, all your deeds, Taking care never to conceal them. And this way you’ll always clearly See the virtuous teaching of honor. Look at yourself, examine yourself there, Study yourself, draw yourself there, There invest your heart and body; Let your desire and intention be there Because of all flowers it’s the most beautiful And the very best. Whoever possesses it has to my mind Found all he will ever need. And so in my conclusion I maintain this is the perfectionv Toward which every human being Should the more tend and direct his desire, After that joy without end, More than all else pleasant and pure. You should be the defender of churches, And of widows and orphans, The boys as much as the girls, Moreover never seizing anything of theirs; For whoever becomes fond of this vice, Will, and I am certain, end badly, Both in life and after death, For God knows all, forgets nothing. Let your heart, I beg you, lead you toward Good thoughts, good deeds, good speech. Avoid everything to the contrary Since this is easy enough to do. And do to all what you would like Done to you. These are the paths God wishes his friends to follow, Never disobeying his commandments. If you do all these things, you may rest, Leaving God, our Father, To take care of everything else. Thus you can hold onto the land. Friend, here I intend to finish my poem, Bringing my work to an end. I ask you to receive it favorably, Retaining the best therein. Let go what is unprofitable And keep instead what is most memorable. I would ask you, moreover, To repair its defects; Since I know little and am hardly worthy, It’s not surprising if I go wrong. But a fool, touched in the head, May speak — and ably — a useful word. Now it remains for me to fulfill What I pledged you earlier. Namely to include your name and mine So someone will know whom to blame If there is any error or misunderstanding In this present piece of writing. And truly, if there is anything useful here, I think there certainly are wrong turnings as well. But whoever would like to learn correctly Our two names, and no tricks, Let him look here how to discover them. When my lady will go riding, She’ll go to dine at Glurvost, Straight to the provost’s house. This is a small town in the Empire, Hardly the most insignificant in Bourget. There you’ll find someone to tell you My name, and never will he lie, And that of the man for whom I’ve written this treatise, Rhymed and composed it. Go there, for it’s good and pleasant, But if you don’t want to go, I really don’t care. HERE ENDS COMFORT FOR A FRIEND “Here ends Comfort for a Friend, Which awakened this heart of mine In those shadows where it slept, Which waking, said: ‘Alas! That I have not departed this place Since for so long I have sighed, Wept and shook so much, For in more than a year and a half I have not received, by Saint Firmin, Joy equal to the yolk of an ant’s egg! And my enemies have more, Those I feared greatly, been frightened by, Those whom I fought so much It has filled my heart And changed my tune, step by step, Into a much more stubborn one. Friend, you can Certainly help me here, by Saint Remigius, For as someone foolish and excited, As someone mad and provoked They have attacked me many times. And so I ask you, give me light, For I can hardly see; give life back To my sad heart and waken it, And I promise you that all My enemies will find themselves here with me, Those who have made me utter many a moan.’”

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The miniatures (images) from MS A are not included in this digital edition, but are available in the print version. To view these images, see also the Bibliothèque nationale de France's digital edition on Gallica: https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b84490444.