not as a mere rhyming translator, but as a man who had an honest gift of song and felt their poetry. There passes through the reader's mind a funeral pomp of men who have been carried high on fortune's wheel, and then been bruised to death by its descending stroke. The poem warns the mighty to be humble and the lowly to be well content: Who climbeth highest on Fortúnés whele But they that be with povert nat dismayed And can with little hold themselves apayed. That is the measure and the spirit of the poem. The measure is that which Chaucer used in "The Court of Love," in "The Assembly of Foules," in "Troilus and Cressida," in the Man of Law's Tale, and the Clerk's Tale of Griselda. This seven-lined stanza of heroic verse, with its odd line in the middle, where it stands as the last of a quatrain of alternate rhyme and first of a pair of couplets, was throughout the fifteenth century the favourite measure of our poets. THE STORIE OF THEBES is told by Lydgate as another Canterbury Tale. After a sickness he went in a black cope "on palfrey slender, long and lene," with rusty bridle, and his man before him carrying an empty pack, to the shrine at Canterbury, and by accident put up there at the inn where Chaucer's pilgrims were assembled. There he saw the host of the "Tabard," who thought him lean for a monk, promised him a large pudding, prescribed nut-brown ale after supper, with anise, cummin, or coriander seed at bedtime. But the best medicine is cheerful company. So Dan John supped with the pilgrims, went home with them next day, and contributed for his story the tale of the tragic end of Thebes; making a pause in it when, at nine in the morning, they went down the steep hill at Boughton under Blean. The story is that of the "Thebaid " of Statius, as it had been manipulated by romancers of the Middle Ages. This is the Prologue: HERE BEGINNETH THE PROLOGUE OF THE STORIE OF THEBEES. When brighté Phebús, passed was the Ram Maléncolike, and slow of motión And some also, in soth, of ribaudrie, To maken laughter in the companie ; Each admitted, for none would other greve; 10 20 1 Floures. Sound here in "Fl" each letter, so as to obtain the effect of another syllable. The same occurs in the "br" of "branch" in the next line, and in other places. Like as the Cook, the Miller and the Reve Acquitted themselves, shortly to conclude, Boistouslie in their termés rude When they hadden well dronken of the bowl; Read his making, who list the truthé finde To whom be youe, praise, honour and glorie The samé tyme, their gouernour the hoste 2 Youe, given. 30 40 As I haue right, I haue thereof no shame." Lift vp your head! be glad! také no sorowe I saié when ye rested haue your fill, 100 50 If nedé be, sparé ye not to blowe. To holde winde, by myne oppinion, 3 I not, I know not. 70 80 1 Making, poetry. Black, pronounced b-lack. In next line "palfray" with "fr" separately sounded. 5 Voide male, empty travelling bag; French "maille." bags are still known as "mails." Our post And layen aside thy professioun Thou shalt not choosé, nor thy self withdrawe If any mirthe be founden in thy mawe, Like the custome of this companie For none so proudé that dare me denie, And we anone weren to soper set 140 150 6 Franche moile was a dish made chiefly of eggs and sheep's fat. Tansy was a dish made of eggs and cream, flavoured, sweetened, and baked in a shallow dish. Froise was a pancake with sliced bacon in it. 7 Route, snore. First-English "hrutan," to snore. snort, rout in sleeping. Euery pilgrim, bothé bet and worse, As bade our hosté, tooke anon his horse "Come forth, Dan Johan, by your christen name, 160 Is no disporte so to patter and saie; It woll make your lippés wonder draie. Tellé some tale, and make thereof a iape For by my rouncie, thou shalt it not escape! But preaché not of noné holiness. Ginné some tale, of mirth or of gladness. I me obeyed vnto his bidding So as the law me bounde in allé thing; 170 By diligence of the kyng Amphion Chief causé first, of his 3 foundación For which his fame, which neuer shal away, As write myne aucthor, and Bochas bothe two, Withouten craft of any mannés hande, And his song, this aucthour can you teache, 5 40 50 60 The goodlihede and the lowlinesse of a kyng, 70 And specially in chere and in speakyng Euerich concludé lich his fantasie, And thus full ofté gendred is enuie In folkés hartes, of soleinté and pride 80 Shouldé the foote, out of disdain, despise, The citee built, that whilom was so strong; And armonié, of his sweté song By vertue onely of the werlbles sharpe As his piller, and as his suppoaile. For finally, ne weré the pooraile Farewell Lordship and dominacion Throughout the lande, of every high estate. Wherefore, me semeth, more is fortunate 1 Fortess, breviary. French "porte-hors;" Latin "portiforium," because carried about out of doors, as here. 2 Chere, face. 3 His for "its," which was not used until the reign of James I. • Support, the "rt" distinctly sounded. Of Mercurie the swoté sugred Harpe Example good of kyng Amphion That builté Thebés by his eloquence How after thopinion of some aucthours, king But sothély yet, some expositours And all the grounde of buildyng he first sette How the countree of Boece, took first his And calléd was the soile thus getten in For shortly he fro thennés was exiled 100 110 120 130 140 150 In the original introduction to this new version of "The Governail of Princes," Occleve says that, sleepless with trouble, he got up and walked into the fields, where, thinking of the insecurity of wealth and of the heaviness bred by poverty, of which one can have a secure possession, he met a poor old hoary man, whose greeting, for sickly distress of thought, he did not answer. But the old man called to him, Sleepest thou, man? Awake!" and shook him till he answered at last with a sigh, bidding him go and not increase his grief. The old man bade him talk with him, if he wished ease of his sorrow. Was he lettered?-Yea, somewhat.-Blessed be God. Lettered folk could hear reason, and so "pluck up thine hert, I hope I shall thee cure."-Cure, good man? cure yourself that tremble as you go. You 66 1 See "Shorter English Poems," pages 56-64. are as full of clap as a mill. You annoy me more than you think. It must be a stronger man than you that shall relieve me.-But, my son, said the old man, it will not hurt you to listen.-Peter! good man, you may talk here till evening, but all is in vain, such is my pain of encumbrous thought.Take counsel and it will mend, "Woe be to him that lust to be alone; For if he fallé, helpé hath he none To rise." He must listen; and first let him tell his grievance. Is it the care of abundance, or the care of poverty, or is he a tormented lover? Say on. You see the beggar is relieved every day, because he shows himself; if he kept close and held his peace he might sit all the day helpless. "Some man for lakke of occupacioún Musethe ferther than his witte may streeche, And all thurghe the fendes instigacioún, Dampnable erroure holdethe, and kan not lesche For counseillé ne rede; as did a wrecche Not long agoo, which that for heresye Convict and brent was unto asshen drye. My lord the pryncé, God him save and blesse ! The That is to say, when John Badby, blacksmith or tailor, was brought to the stake, and a barrel was prepared in which to burn him, Henry, then Prince of Wales, spoke to him kindly, and urged recantation; Badby remaining firm, was put into the barrel, and the burning fuel was heaped round it. prince, moved by his cries of agony, caused the fuel to be cleared from around him, and again, when he was half dead, spoke to him, offering to procure pardon and even a pension. Badby remained firm; the prince with some anger ordered the fuel to be heaped round him again, and he was burned to ashes as a hopeless heretic. After having given six stanzas to the burning of John Badby, Occleve makes his old man, in a seventh stanza, say that it is for divines to inquire what has become of the heretic's soul-he knows not, "But woldé God the Cristés foes ech one That as he heldé were yservéd so, For I am sure there ben many mo." When the old man has preached more upon the sin of heresy, Occleve answers that this is not his trouble; he believes in the sacrament of the altar, and in spite of the fiend in all the articles of faith. That rejoices the old man. And now let him not be despised for his weed: great virtue reigneth oft under an old poor habit. Rich dress is fit for worthy men, but it is ill with men who, if they pay for it, spend all they have upon a gown of scarlet twelve yards wide, with pendant sleeves down on the ground, and the fur set therein worth twenty pounds or more. There is no telling from afar, by their dress, a lord from a commoner. "O! lordes, it sitte yow amendé this." By my life there goes no less than a yard of broadcloth into a man's tippet. Let every lord forbid his men such great array. What is a lord without his attendance? "I putté caas his foés hym assaile Sodeinly in the strete, what helpe shalle he Whos slevés encombroús so sidé trayle Do to his lord? He may him not availe. In such a caas he is but a womman, He may not stonde hym in stede of a man. His armés two han nigh ynougye to done, And somewhat more, his slevés up to holde." The tailors soon will have to go into the fields to shape, and spread, and fold, their boards will be too narrow for the cloth that shall be worked into a gown; the skinner, too, will have to go into the fields, his house in London being too small for his trade. There is more from the old man on this head. "In olde time" things were not so. Duke John of Lancaster had not his garments too wide, and yet they became him wonderfully well. If there were now less waste in clothes, virtues would walk more thick among the people. "Now have thise lordes but litelle nede of bromes Setthé side slevés of penýlees groomes Wole it up likké, be it drye or wete." But, said Truth and cleanness in lords' courts have little honour if they come in narrow clothes. the old man, though my clothes are narrow, good son, have of me no disdain. Then he turned from his poverty to his age, and moralised at length upon age and youth; painting the riot of youth, not without living touches that illustrate customs of the time. The poet answered that he did not contemn his poverty or age, but he did not think him able to ease his vexed mind. Already, however, he had been eased and comforted by his wise counsel, and he would seek further relief of him. Tell me, said the old man,-but first, where dwellest thou? "In the office of the privé-seel I wone. The king, then he went on to tell, was gracious enough to him, and had given him an annuity for life of twenty marks. If that were paid, it would stand well enough with him; "But paiément is harde to gete now adayes, If he cannot be sure of his annuity, how shall he be able to live when he serves no longer? If now in his green age, and being in court, he hardly, with great pains, obtains payment, when he is old and A mark was 138, 4d. |