| 125 |
This Phebus that was flour of bachilrie, |
| As wel in fredom as in chivalrie, |
| For his desport, in signe eek of victorie |
| Of Phitoun, so as telleth us the storie, |
| Was wont to beren in his hand a bowe. |
| 130 | Now hadde this Phebus in his hous a crowe, |
| Which in a cage he fostred many a day, |
| And taughte it speken as men teche a jay. |
| Whit was this crowe, as is a snow-whit swan, |
| And countrefete the speche of every man |
| 135 | He koude, whan he sholde telle a tale. |
| Therwith in al this world no nyghtngale |
| Ne koude, by an hondred thousand deel, |
| Syngen so wonder myrily and weel. |
|
Now hadde this Phebus in his hous a wyf |
| 140 | Which that he lovede moore than his lyf; |
| And nyght and day dide evere his diligence |
| Hir for to plese and doon hire reverence. |
| Save oonly, if the sothe that I shal sayn, |
| Jalous he was, and wolde have kept hire fayn, |
| 145 | For hym were looth byjaped for to be- |
| And so is every wight in swich degree; |
| But al in ydel, for it availleth noght. |
| A good wyf that is clene of werk and thoght |
| Sholde nat been kept in noon awayt, certayn. |
| 150 | And trewely the labour is in vayn |
| To kepe a shrewe, for it wol nat bee. |
| This holde I for a verray nycetee, |
| To spille labour for to kepe wyves, |
| Thus writen olde clerkes in hir lyves. |
| 155 | But now to purpos, as I first bigan: |
| This worthy Phebus dooth al that he kan |
| To plesen hir, wenynge that swich plesaunce, |
| And for his manhede and his governaunce, |
| That no man sholde han put hym from hire grace. |
| 160 | But God it woot, ther may no man embrace |
| As to destreyne a thyng, which that nature |
| Hath natureelly set in a creature. |
|
Taak any bryd, and put it in a cage, |
| And do al thyn entente and thy corage |
| 165 | To fostre it tendrely with mete and drynke, |
| Of alle deyntees that thou kanst bithynke; |
| And keepe it al so clenly as thou may, |
| Although his cage of gold be nevere so gay, |
| Yet hath this bryd, by twenty thousand foold, |
| 170 | Levere in a forest that is rude and coold |
| Goon ete wormes, and swich wrecchednesse; |
| For evere this bryd wol doon his bisynesse |
| To escape out of his cage, whan he may. |
| His libertee this brid desireth ay. |
| 175 | Lat take a cat, and fostre hym wel with milk, |
| And tendre flessh, and make his couche of silk, |
| And lat hym seen a mous go by the wal, |
| Anon he weyveth milk and flessh and al, |
| And every deyntee that is in that hous, |
| 180 | Swich appetit he hath to ete a mous. |
| Lo, heere hath lust his dominacioun, |
| And appetit fleemeth discrecioun. |
| A she wolf hath also a vileyns kynde, |
| The lewedeste wolf that she may fynde, |
| 185 | Or leest of reputacioun wol she take, |
| In tyme whan hir lust to han a make. |
|
Alle thise ensamples speke I by thise men, |
| That been untrewe, and no thyng by wommen, |
| For men han evere a likerous appetit |
| 190 | On lower thyng to parfourne hire delit, |
| Than on hire wyves, be they nevere so faire, |
| Ne nevere so trewe, ne so debonaire. |
| Flessh is so newefangel, with meschaunce, |
| That we ne konne in no thyng han plesaunce |
| 195 | That sowneth into vertu any while. |
| This Phebus, which that thoghte upon no gile, |
| Deceyved was, for al his jolitee. |
| For under hym another hadde shee, |
| A man of litel reputacioun, |
| 200 | Nat worth to Phebus in comparisoun. |
| The moore harm is, it happeth ofte so, |
| Of which ther cometh muchel harm and wo. |
| And so bifel, whan Phebus was absent, |
| His wyf anon hath for hir lemman sent; |
| 205 | Hir lemman? Certes, this is a knavyssh speche, |
| Foryeveth it me, and that I yow biseche. |
| The wise Plato seith, as ye may rede, |
| The word moot nede accorde with the dede. |
| If men shal telle proprely a thyng, |
| 210 | The word moot cosyn be to the werkyng. |
| I am a boystous man, right thus seye I. |
| Ther nys no difference trewely |
| Bitwixe a wyf that is of heigh degree- |
| If of hire body dishoneste she bee- |
| 215 | And a povre wenche, oother than this, |
| If it so be they werke bothe amys, |
| But that the gentile in hire estaat above, |
| She shal be cleped his lady as in love, |
| And for that oother is a povre womman, |
| 220 | She shal be cleped his wenche, or his lemman; |
| And God it woot, myn owene deere brother, |
| Men leyn that oon as lowe as lith that oother. |
|
Right so bitwixe a titlelees tiraunt |
| And an outlawe, or a theef erraunt, |
| 225 | The same I seye, ther is no difference. |
| To Alisaundre was toold this sentence: |
| That for the tiraunt is of gretter myght, |
| By force of meynee for to sleen dounright, |
| And brennen hous and hoom, and make al playn, |
| 230 | Lo, therfore is he cleped a capitayn; |
| And for the outlawe hath but smal meynee, |
| And may nat doon so greet an harm as he, |
| Ne brynge a contree to so greet mescheef, |
| Men clepen hym an outlawe or a theef. |
| 235 | But, for I am a man noght textueel, |
| I wol noght telle of textes never a deel; |
| I wol go to my tale as I bigan. |
| Whan Phebus wyf had sente for hir lemman, |
| Anon they wroghten al hir lust volage. |
| 240 | The white crowe that heeng ay in the cage |
| Biheeld hire werk, and seyde nevere a word, |
| And whan that hoom was com Phebus the lord, |
| This crowe sang, "Cokkow! Cokkow! Cokkow!" |
| "What bryd!" quod Phebus, "what song syngestow? |
| 245 | Ne were thow wont so myrily to synge |
| That to myn herte it was a rejoysynge |
| To heere thy voys? Allas, what song is this?" |
|
"By God," quod he, "I synge nat amys. |
| Phebus," quod he, "for al thy worthynesse, |
| 250 | For al thy beautee and thy gentillesse, |
| For al thy song and al thy mynstralcye, |
| For al thy waityng, blered is thyn eye |
| With oon of litel reputacioun |
| Noght worth to thee, as in comparisoun |
| 255 | The montance of a gnat, so moote I thryve, |
| For on thy bed thy wyf I saugh hym swyve." |
| What wol ye moore? The crowe anon hym tolde, |
| By sadde tokenes and by wordes bolde, |
| How that his wyf han doon hire lecherye, |
| 260 | Hym to greet shame and to greet vileynye, |
| And tolde hym ofte, he saugh it with hise eyen. |
| This Phebus gan aweyward for to wryen, |
| And thoughte his sorweful herte brast atwo, |
| His bowe he bente and sette ther inne a flo, |
| 265 | And in his ire his wyf thanne hath he slayn. |
| This is th'effect, ther is namoore to sayn, |
| For sorwe of which he brak his mynstralcie, |
| Bothe harpe, and lute, and gyterne, and sautrie, |
| And eek he brak hise arwes and his bowe, |
| 270 | And after that thus spak he to the crowe. |
|
"Traitour," quod he, "with tonge of scorpioun, |
| Thou hast me broght to my confusioun, |
| Allas, that I was wroght! Why nere I deed? |
| O deere wyf, O gemme of lustiheed, |
| 275 | That were to me so sad and eek so trewe, |
| Now listow deed with face pale of hewe, |
| Ful giltelees, that dorste I swere, ywys. |
| O rakel hand, to doon so foule amys! |
| O trouble wit, O ire recchelees! |
| 280 | That unavysed smyteth gilteles. |
| O wantrust, ful of fals suspecioun, |
| Where was thy wit and thy discrecioun? |
| O every man, be war of rakelnesse, |
| Ne trowe no thyng withouten strong witnesse. |
| 285 | Smyt nat to soone, er that ye witen why, |
| And beeth avysed wel and sobrely, |
| Er ye doon any execucioun |
| Upon youre ire for suspecioun. |
| Allas, a thousand folk hath rakel ire |
| 290 | Fully fordoon, and broght hem in the mire! |
| Allas, for sorwe I wol myselven slee!" |
|
And to the crowe, "O false theef," seyde he, |
| "I wol thee quite anon thy false tale; |
| Thou songe whilom lyk a nyghtyngale, |
| 295 | Now shaltow, false theef, thy song forgon, |
| And eek thy white fetheres everichon. |
| Ne nevere in al thy lyf ne shaltou speke, |
| Thus shal men on a traytour been awreke. |
| Thou and thyn ofspryng evere shul be blake, |
| 300 | Ne nevere sweete noyse shul ye make, |
| But evere crie agayn tempest and rayn, |
| In tokenynge that thurgh thee my wyf is slayn." |
| And to the crowe he stirte, and that anon, |
| And pulled hise white fetheres everychon, |
| 305 | And made hym blak, and refte hym al his song, |
| And eek his speche, and out at dore hym slong, |
| Unto the devel-which I hym bitake; |
| And for this caas been alle crowes blake. |
|
Lordynges, by this ensample I yow preye, |
| 310 | Beth war and taketh kepe what I seye: |
| Ne telleth nevere no man in youre lyf |
| How that another man hath dight his wyf; |
| He wol yow haten mortally, certeyn. |
| Daun Salomon, as wise clerkes seyn, |
| 315 | Techeth a man to kepen his tonge weel. |
| But as I seyde, I am noght textueel; |
| But nathelees, thus taughte me my dame; |
| "My sone, thenk on the crowe, on Goddes name. |
| My sone, keepe wel thy tonge and keepe thy freend, |
| 320 | A wikked tonge is worse than a feend. |
| My sone, from a feend men may hem blesse. |
| My sone, God of his endelees goodnesse |
| Walled a tonge with teeth and lippes eke, |
| For man sholde hym avyse what he speeke. |
| 325 | My sone, ful ofte for to muche speche |
| Hath many a man been spilt, as clerkes teche. |
| But for litel speche, avysely, |
| Is no man shent, to speke generally. |
| My sone, thy tonge sholdestow restreyne |
| 330 | At alle tymes, but whan thou doost thy peyne |
| To speke of God in honour and in preyere; |
| The firste vertu sone, if thou wolt leere, |
| Is to restreyne and kepe wel thy tonge. |
| Thus lerne children, whan that they been yonge, |
| 335 | My sone, of muchel spekyng yvele avysed, |
| Ther lasse spekyng hadde ynough suffised, |
| Comth muchel harm - thus was me toold and taught. - |
| In muchel speche synne wanteth naught. |
| Wostow wherof a rakel tonge serveth? |
| 340 | Right as a swerd forkutteth and forkerveth |
| An arme a-two, my deere sone, right so |
| A tonge kutteth freendshipe al atwo. |
| A jangler is to God abhomynable; |
| Reed Salomon, so wys and honurable, |
| 345 | Reed David in hise psalmes, reed Senekke. |
| My sone, spek nat, but with thyn heed thou bekke; |
| Dissimule as thou were deef, it that thou heere |
| A jangler speke of perilous mateere. |
| The Flemyng seith, and lerne it if thee leste, |
| 350 | That litel janglyng causeth muchel reste. |
| My sone, if thou no wikked word hast seyd, |
| Thee thar nat drede for to be biwreyd; |
| But he that hath mysseyd, I dar wel sayn, |
| He may by no wey clepe his word agayn. |
| 355 | Thyng that is seyd is seyd, and forth it gooth; |
| Though hym repente, or be hym leef or looth, |
| He is his thral to whom that he hath sayd |
| A tale, of which he is now yvele apayd. |
| My sone, be war, and be noon auctour newe |
| 360 | Of tidynyges, wheither they been false or trewe, |
| Wherso thou com, amonges hye or lowe, |
| Kepe wel thy tonge, and thenk upon the crowe." |
