Chaucer's Works, Volume 2 — Boethius and Troilus

What maner man, stable and war, that wole founden him

a perdurable sete, and ne wole nat ben cast down with the loude

blastes of the wind Eurus; and wole despyse the see, manasinge

with flodes; lat him eschewen to bilde on the cop of the mountaigne

or in the moiste sandes. For the felle wind Auster

tormenteth the cop of the mountaigne with all his strengthes;

and the lause sandes refusen to beren the hevy wighte.

And forthy, if thou wolt fleen the perilous aventure, that is to

seyn, of the worlde; have minde certeinly to ficchen thyn hous of

a merye site in a lowe stoon. For al-though the wind, troubling

the see, thondre with over-throwinges, thou that art put in quiete,

and weleful by strengthe of thy palis, shalt leden a cleer age,

scorninge the woodnesses and the ires of the eyr.

But for as moche as the norisshinges of my resouns descenden

now in-to thee, I trowe it were tyme to usen a litel strenger

medicynes. Now understond heer, al were it so that the yiftes of

Fortune ne were nat brutel ne transitorie, what is ther in hem

that may be thyn in any tyme, or elles that it nis foul, yif that it

be considered and loked perfitly? Richesses, ben they precious

by the nature of hem-self, or elles by the nature of thee? What is

most worth of richesses? Is it nat gold or might of moneye

assembled? Certes, thilke gold and thilke moneye shyneth and

yeveth betere renoun to hem that despenden it thanne to thilke

folk that mokeren it; for avarice maketh alwey mokereres to ben

hated, and largesse maketh folk cleer of renoun. For sin that

swich thing as is transferred fram o man to another ne may nat

dwellen with no man; certes, thanne is thilke moneye precious

whan it is translated into other folk and stenteth to ben had, by

usage of large yevinge of him that hath yeven it. And also: yif

that al the moneye that is over-al in the worlde were gadered

toward o man, it sholde maken alle other men to ben nedy as of that.

And certes a voys al hool, that is to seyn, with-oute amenusinge,

fulfilleth to-gidere the hering of moche folk; but certes, youre

richesses ne mowen nat passen in-to moche folke with-oute

amenusinge. And whan they ben apassed, nedes they maken

hem pore that for-gon the richesses.

O! streite and nedy clepe I this richesse, sin that many folk

ne may nat han it al, ne al may it nat comen to o man with-outen

povertee of alle other folk! And the shyninge of gemmes, that

I clepe precious stones, draweth it nat the eyen of folk to hem-ward,

that is to seyn, for the beautee? But certes, yif ther were

beautee or bountee in the shyninge of stones, thilke cleernesse is

of the stones hem-self, and nat of men; for whiche I wondre

gretly that men mervailen on swiche thinges. For-why, what

thing is it, that yif it wanteth moeving and Ioynture of sowle and

body, that by right mighte semen a fair creature to him that hath

a sowle of resoun? For al be it so that gemmes drawen to hem-self

a litel of the laste beautee of the world, through the entente of

hir creatour and through the distinccioun of hem-self; yit, for as

mochel as they ben put under youre excellence, they ne han nat

deserved by no wey that ye sholden mervailen on hem. And

the beautee of feldes, delyteth it nat mochel un-to yow?'

Boece. 'Why sholde it nat delyten us, sin that it is a right fair

porcioun of the right faire werke, that is to seyn, of this world?

And right so ben we gladed som-tyme of the face of the see

whan it is cleer; and also mervailen we on the hevene and on the

sterres, and on the sonne and on the mone.'

Philosophye. 'Aperteneth,' quod she, 'any of thilke thinges to

thee? Why darst thou glorifyen thee in the shyninge of any

swiche thinges? Art thou distingwed and embelised by the

springinge floures of the first somer sesoun, or swelleth thy

plentee in the fruites of somer? Why art thou ravisshed with

ydel Ioyes? Why embracest thou straunge goodes as they weren

thyne? Fortune ne shal never maken that swiche thinges ben

thyne, that nature of thinges hath maked foreine fro thee. Sooth

is that, with-outen doute, the frutes of the erthe owen to ben to

the norissinge of bestes. And yif thou wolt fulfille thy nede after

that it suffyseth to nature, than is it no nede that thou seke after

the superfluitee of fortune. For with ful fewe things and with ful

litel thinges nature halt hir apayed; and yif thou wolt achoken

the fulfillinge of nature with superfluitees, certes, thilke thinges

that thou wolt thresten or pouren in-to nature shullen ben unioyful

to thee, or elles anoyous. Wenest thou eek that it be a fair

thing to shyne with dyverse clothinge? Of whiche clothinge yif

the beautee be agreeable to loken up-on, I wol mervailen on the

nature of the matere of thilke clothes, or elles on the werkman

that wroughte hem. But also a long route of meynee, maketh

that a blisful man? The whiche servants, yif they ben vicious of

condiciouns, it is a great charge and a distruccioun to the hous,

and a greet enemy to the lord him-self. And yif they ben goode

men, how shal straunge or foreine goodnesse ben put in the

noumbre of thy richesse? So that, by all these forseide thinges,

it is clearly y-shewed, that never oon of thilke thinges that thou

acountedest for thyne goodes nas nat thy good. In the whiche

thinges, yif ther be no beautee to ben desyred, why sholdest thou

ben sory yif thou lese hem, or why sholdest thou reioysen thee

to holden hem? For yif they ben faire of hir owne kinde, what

aperteneth that to thee? For al so wel sholden they han ben

faire by hem-selve, though they weren departed fram alle thyne

richesses. Forwhy faire ne precious ne weren they nat, for that

they comen among thy richesses; but, for they semeden faire and

precious, ther-for thou haddest lever rekne hem amonges thy

richesses.

But what desirest thou of Fortune with so grete a noise, and

with so grete a fare? I trowe thou seke to dryve awey nede with

habundaunce of thinges; but certes, it torneth to you al in the

contrarie. Forwhy certes, it nedeth of ful manye helpinges to

kepen the diversitee of precious ostelments. And sooth it is,

that of manye thinges han they nede that manye thinges han; and

ayeinward, of litel nedeth hem that mesuren hir fille after the nede

of kinde, and nat after the outrage of coveityse. Is it thanne so,

that ye men ne han no proper good y-set in you, for which

ye moten seken outward youre goodes in foreine and subgit

thinges? So is thanne the condicioun of thinges torned up-so-down,

that a man, that is a devyne beest by merite of his resoun,

thinketh that him-self nis neither faire ne noble, but-yif it be

thorugh possessioun of ostelments that ne han no sowles. And

certes, al other thinges ben apayed of hir owne beautee; but ye

men, that ben semblable to god by your resonable thought,

desiren to aparailen your excellent kinde of the lowest thinges;

ne ye understonden nat how greet a wrong ye don to your

creatour. For he wolde that mankinde were most worthy and

noble of any othre erthely thinges; and ye threste adoun your

dignitees benethe the lowest thinges. For yif that al the good of

every thinge be more precious than is thilke thing whos that

the good is: sin ye demen that the fouleste thinges ben youre

goodes, thanne submitten ye and putten your-selven under tho

fouleste thinges by your estimacioun; and certes, this tydeth nat

with-oute youre desertes. For certes, swiche is the condicioun of

alle mankinde, that only whan it hath knowinge of it-selve, than

passeth it in noblesse alle other thinges; and whan it forleteth the

knowinge of it-self, than is it brought binethen alle beestes. For-why

al other livinge beestes han of kinde to knowe nat hem-self;

but whan that men leten the knowinge of hemself, it cometh hem

of vice. But how brode sheweth the errour and the folye of yow

men, that wenen that any thing may ben aparailed with straunge

aparailements! But for sothe that may nat ben doon. For yif

a wight shyneth with thinges that ben put to him, as thus, if

thilke thinges shynen with which a man is aparailed, certes, thilke

thinges ben comended and preysed with which he is aparailed;

but natheles, the thing that is covered and wrapped under that

dwelleth in his filthe.

And I denye that thilke thing be good that anoyeth him that

hath it. Gabbe I of this?. Thou wolt seye "nay." Certes,

richesses han anoyed ful ofte hem that han tho richesses; sin that

every wikked shrewe, (and for his wikkednesse the more gredy

after other folkes richesses, wher-so ever it be in any place, be it

gold or precious stones), weneth him only most worthy that hath

hem. Thou thanne, that so bisy dredest now the swerd and now

the spere, yif thou haddest entred in the path of this lyf a voide

wayferinge man, than woldest thou singe beforn the theef; as

who seith, a pore man, that berth no richesse on him by the weye,

may boldely singe biforn theves, for he hath nat wherof to ben

robbed. O precious and right cleer is the blisfulnesse of mortal

richesses, that, whan thou hast geten it, than hast thou lorn thy

sikernesse!

Blisful was the first age of men! They helden hem apayed

with the metes that the trewe feldes broughten forth. They

ne distroyede nor deceivede nat hem-self with outrage. They

weren wont lightly to slaken hir hunger at even with acornes

of okes. They ne coude nat medly the yifte of Bachus to the

cleer hony; that is to seyn, they coude make no piment nor clarree;

ne they coude nat medle the brighte fleeses of the contree of

Seriens with the venim of Tyrie; this is to seyn, they coude nat

deyen whyte fleeses of Serien contree with the blode of a maner

shelfisshe that men finden in Tyrie, with whiche blood men deyen

purpur. They slepen hoolsom slepes up-on the gras, and

dronken of the renninge wateres; and layen under the shadwes

of the heye pyn-trees. Ne no gest ne straungere ne carf yit

the heye see with ores or with shippes; ne they ne hadde seyn

yit none newe strondes, to leden marchaundyse in-to dyverse

contrees. Tho weren the cruel clariouns ful hust and ful stille,

ne blood y-shad by egre hate ne hadde nat deyed yit armures.

For wher-to or which woodnesse of enemys wolde first moeven

armes, whan they seyen cruel woundes, ne none medes be of

blood y-shad?

I wolde that oure tymes sholde torne ayein to the olde

maneres! But the anguissous love of havinge brenneth in folk

more cruely than the fyr of the mountaigne Ethna, that ay brenneth.

Allas! what was he that first dalf up the gobetes or the weightes

of gold covered under erthe, and the precious stones that wolden

han ben hid? He dalf up precious perils. That is to seyn, that

he that hem first up dalf, he dalf up a precious peril; for-why for

the preciousnesse of swiche thinge, hath many man ben in peril.

But what shal I seye of dignitees and of powers, the whiche

ye men, that neither knowen verray dignitee ne verray power,

areysen hem as heye as the hevene? The whiche dignitees and

powers, yif they comen to any wikked man, they don as grete

damages and destrucciouns as doth the flaumbe of the mountaigne

Ethna, whan the flaumbe walweth up; ne no deluge ne doth so

cruel harmes. Certes, thee remembreth wel, as I trowe, that

thilke dignitee that men clepen the imperie of consulers, the

whiche that whylom was biginninge of fredom, youre eldres

coveiteden to han don away that dignitee, for the pryde of the

consulers. And right for the same pryde your eldres, biforn that

tyme, hadden don awey, out of the citee of Rome, the kinges

name; that is to seyn, they nolde han no lenger no king. But

now, yif so be that dignitees and powers be yeven to goode men,

the whiche thing is ful selde, what agreable thing is ther in tho

dignitees or powers but only the goodnesse of folkes that usen

hem? And therfor it is thus, that honour ne comth nat to vertu

for cause of dignitee, but ayeinward honour comth to dignitee for

cause of vertu. But whiche is thilke youre dereworthe power,

that is so cleer and so requerable? O ye ertheliche bestes,

considere ye nat over which thinge that it semeth that ye han

power? Now yif thou saye a mous amonges other mys, that

chalaunged to him-self-ward right and power over alle other mys,

how greet scorn woldest thou han of it! Glosa. So fareth it by

men; the body hath power over the body. For yif thou loke wel

up-on the body of a wight, what thing shall thou finde more

freele than is mankinde; the whiche men wel ofte ben slayn with

bytinge of smale flyes, or elles with the entringe of crepinge

wormes in-to the privetees of mannes body? But wher shal man

finden any man that may exercen or haunten any right up-on

another man, but only up-on his body, or elles up-on thinges

that ben lowere than the body, the whiche I clepe fortunous

possessiouns? Mayst thou ever have any comaundement over

a free corage? Mayst thou remuen fro the estat of his propre

reste a thought that is clyvinge to-gidere in him-self by stedefast

resoun? As whylom a tyraunt wende to confounde a free man

of corage, and wende to constreyne him by torment, to maken

him discoveren and acusen folk that wisten of a coniuracioun,

which I clepe a confederacie, that was cast ayeins this tyraunt;

but this free man boot of his owne tonge and caste it in the

visage of thilke wode tyraunt; so that the torments that this

tyraunt wende to han maked matere of crueltee, this wyse man

maked it matere of vertu.

But what thing is it that a man may don to another man, that

he ne may receyven the same thing of othre folk in him-self:

or thus, what may a man don to folk, that folk ne may don him the

same? I have herd told of Busirides, that was wont to sleen his

gestes that herberweden in his hous; and he was sleyn him-self

of Ercules that was his gest. Regulus hadde taken in bataile

many men of Affrike and cast hem in-to feteres; but sone after

he moste yeve his handes to ben bounde with the cheynes of

hem that he hadde whylom overcomen. Wenest thou thanne

that he be mighty, that hath no power to don a thing, that othre

ne may don in him that he doth in othre? And yit more-over,

yif it so were that thise dignitees or poweres hadden any propre

or natural goodnesse in hem-self, never nolden they comen to

shrewes. For contrarious thinges ne ben nat wont to ben

y-felawshiped to-gidere. Nature refuseth that contrarious thinges

ben y-ioigned. And so, as I am in certein that right wikked folk

han dignitees ofte tyme, than sheweth it wel that dignitees and

powers ne ben nat goode of hir owne kinde; sin that they suffren

hem-self to cleven or ioinen hem to shrewes. And certes, the

same thing may I most digneliche iugen and seyn of alle the

yiftes of fortune that most plentevously comen to shrewes; of

the whiche yiftes, I trowe that it oughte ben considered, that no

man douteth that he nis strong in whom he seeth strengthe; and

in whom that swiftnesse is, sooth it is that he is swift. Also

musike maketh musiciens, and phisike maketh phisiciens, and

rethorike rethoriens. For-why the nature of every thing maketh

his propretee, ne it is nat entremedled with the effects of the

contrarious thinges; and, as of wil, it chaseth out thinges that

ben to it contrarie. But certes, richesse may not restreyne

avarice unstaunched; ne power ne maketh nat a man mighty

over him-self, whiche that vicious lustes holden destreyned with

cheynes that ne mowen nat be unbounden. And dignitees that

ben yeven to shrewede folk nat only ne maketh hem nat digne,

but it sheweth rather al openly that they ben unworthy and

undigne. And why is it thus? Certes, for ye han Ioye to clepen

thinges with false names that beren hem alle in the contrarie;

the whiche names ben ful ofte reproeved by the effecte of the

same thinges; so that thise ilke richesses ne oughten nat by

right to ben cleped richesses; ne swich power ne oughte nat

ben cleped power; ne swich dignitee ne oughte nat ben cleped

dignitee.

And at the laste, I may conclude the same thing of alle the

yiftes of Fortune, in which ther nis nothing to ben desired, ne

that hath in him-self naturel bountee, as it is ful wel y-sene. For

neither they ne ioignen hem nat alwey to goode men, ne maken

hem alwey goode to whom that they ben y-ioigned.

We han wel knowen how many grete harmes and destrucciouns

weren don by the emperor Nero. He leet brenne the citee of

Rome, and made sleen the senatoures. And he, cruel, whylom

slew his brother; and he was maked moist with the blood of

his moder; that is to seyn, he leet sleen and slitten the body of

his moder, to seen wher he was conceived; and he loked on every

halve up-on her colde dede body, ne no tere ne wette his face, but

he was so hard-herted that he mighte ben domes-man or Iuge of

hir dede beautee. And natheles, yit governede this Nero by

ceptre alle the poeples that Phebus the sonne may seen, cominge

from his outereste arysinge til he hyde his bemes under the

wawes; that is to seyn, he governed alle the poeples by ceptre imperial

that the sonne goth aboute, from est to west. And eek this

Nero governed by ceptre alle the poeples that ben under the

colde sterres that highten "septem triones"; this is to seyn, he

governede alle the poeples that ben under the party of the north.

And eek Nero governed alle the poeples that the violent wind

Nothus scorkleth, and baketh the brenning sandes by his drye

hete; that is to seyn, alle the poeples in the south. But yit ne

mighte nat al his hye power torne the woodnesse of this wikked

Nero. Allas! it is a grevous fortune, as ofte as wikked swerd

is ioigned to cruel venim; that is to seyn, venimous crueltee to

lordshippe.'

Thanne seyde I thus: 'Thou wost wel thy-self that the coveitise

of mortal thinges ne hadde never lordshipe of me; but

I have wel desired matere of thinges to done, as who seith, I

desire to han matere of governaunce over comunalitees, for vertu,

stille, ne sholde nat elden;' that is to seyn, that [him] leste that,

or he wex olde, his vertu, that lay now ful stille, ne should nat

perisshe unexercised in governaunce of comune; for which men

mighten speken or wryten of his goode governement.

Philosophye. 'For sothe,' quod she, 'and that is a thing that

may drawen to governaunce swiche hertes as ben worthy and

noble of hir nature; but natheles, it may nat drawen or tollen

swiche hertes as ben y-brought to the fulle perfeccioun of vertu,

that is to seyn, coveitise of glorie and renoun to han wel administred

the comune thinges or don gode desertes to profit of the

comune. For see now and considere, how litel and how voide of

alle prys is thilke glorie. Certein thing is, as thou hast lerned by

the demonstracioun of astronomye, that al the environinge of the

erthe aboute ne halt nat but the resoun of a prikke at regard of the

greetnesse of hevene; that is to seyn, that yif ther were maked

comparisoun of the erthe to the greetnesse of hevene, men wolden

iugen in al, that the erthe ne helde no space. Of the whiche litel

regioun of this worlde, the ferthe partye is enhabited with livinge

bestes that we knowen, as thou thyself hast y-lerned by Tholomee

that proveth it. And yif thou haddest with-drawen and abated in

thy thought fro thilke ferthe partye as moche space as the see and

the mareys contenen and over-goon, and as moche space as the

regioun of droughte over-streccheth, that is to seyn, sandes and

desertes, wel unnethe sholde ther dwellen a right streit place to

the habitacioun of men. And ye thanne, that ben environed and

closed with-in the leste prikke of thilke prikke, thinken ye to

manifesten your renoun and don youre name to ben born forth?

But your glorie, that is so narwe and so streite y-throngen in-to so

litel boundes, how mochel coveiteth it in largesse and in greet

doinge? And also sette this there-to: that many a nacioun,

dyverse of tonge and of maneres and eek of resoun of hir livinge,

ben enhabited in the clos of thilke litel habitacle; to the whiche

naciouns, what for difficultee of weyes and what for dyversitee of

langages, and what for defaute of unusage and entrecomuninge of

marchaundise, nat only the names of singuler men ne may nat

strecchen, but eek the fame of citees ne may nat strecchen. At

the laste, certes, in the tyme of Marcus Tullius, as him-self writ in

his book, that the renoun of the comune of Rome ne hadde nat

yit passed ne cloumben over the mountaigne that highte Caucasus;

and yit was, thilke tyme, Rome wel waxen and greetly redouted of

the Parthes and eek of other folk enhabitinge aboute. Seestow

nat thanne how streit and how compressed is thilke glorie that ye

travailen aboute to shewe and to multiplye? May thanne the

glorie of a singuler Romaine strecchen thider as the fame of the

name of Rome may nat climben ne passen? And eek, seestow nat

that the maneres of dyverse folk and eek hir lawes ben discordaunt

among hem-self; so that thilke thing that som men

iugen worthy of preysinge, other folk iugen that it is worthy of

torment? And ther-of comth it that, though a man delyte him in

preysinge of his renoun, he may nat in no wyse bringen forth ne

spreden his name to many maner poeples. There-for every man

oughte to ben apayed of his glorie that is publisshed among his

owne neighbours; and thilke noble renoun shal ben restreyned

within the boundes of o manere folke. But how many a man,

that was ful noble in his tyme, hath the wrecched and nedy

foryetinge of wryteres put out of minde and don awey! Al be

it so that, certes, thilke wrytinges profiten litel; the whiche

wrytinges long and derk elde doth awey, bothe hem and eek hir

autours. But ye men semen to geten yow a perdurabletee, whan

ye thenken that, in tyme to-cominge, your fame shal lasten. But

natheles, yif thou wolt maken comparisoun to the endeles spaces

of eternitee, what thing hast thou by whiche thou mayst reioysen

thee of long lastinge of thy name? For yif ther were maked comparisoun

of the abydinge of a moment to ten thousand winter,

for as mochel as bothe the spaces ben ended, yit hath the

moment som porcioun of it, al-though it litel be. But natheles,

thilke selve noumbre of yeres, and eek as many yeres as

ther-to may be multiplyed, ne may nat, certes, ben comparisoned

to the perdurabletee that is endeles; for of thinges that han ende

may be maked comparisoun, but of thinges that ben with-outen

ende, to thinges that han ende, may be maked no comparisoun.

And forthy is it that, al-though renoun, of as long tyme as ever

thee list to thinken, were thought to the regard of eternitee, that

is unstaunchable and infinit, it ne sholde nat only semen litel, but

pleynliche right naught. But ye men, certes, ne conne don

nothing a-right, but-yif it be for the audience of poeple and for

ydel rumours; and ye forsaken the grete worthinesse of conscience

and of vertu, and ye seken your guerdouns of the smale wordes of

straunge folk.

Have now heer and understonde, in the lightnesse of swich

pryde and veine glorie, how a man scornede festivaly and merily

swich vanitee. Whylom ther was a man that hadde assayed

with stryvinge wordes another man, the whiche, nat for usage of

verray vertu but for proud veine glorie, had taken up-on him

falsly the name of a philosophre. This rather man. that I spak

of thoughte he wolde assaye, wher he, thilke, were a philosophre

or no; that is to seyn, yif that he wolde han suffred lightly in

pacience the wronges that weren don un-to him. This feynede

philosophre took pacience a litel whyle, and, whan he hadde

received wordes of outrage, he, as in stryvinge ayein and reioysinge

of him-self, seyde at the laste right thus: "understondest

thou nat that I am a philosophre?" That other man answerde

ayein ful bytingly, and seyde: "I hadde wel understonden it, yif

thou haddest holden thy tonge stille." But what is it to thise

noble worthy men (for, certes, of swiche folke speke I) that seken

glorie with vertu? What is it?' quod she; 'what atteyneth fame

to swiche folk, whan the body is resolved by the deeth at the

laste? For yif it so be that men dyen in al, that is to seyn, body

and sowle, the whiche thing our resoun defendeth us to bileven,

thanne is ther no glorie in no wyse. For what sholde thilke glorie

ben, whan he, of whom thilke glorie is seyd to be, nis right naught

in no wyse? And yif the sowle, whiche that hath in it-self science

of goode werkes, unbounden fro the prison of the erthe, wendeth

frely to the hevene, despyseth it nat thanne alle erthely occupacioun;

and, being in hevene, reioyseth that it is exempt fro alle

erthely thinges? As who seith, thanne rekketh the sowle of no

glorie of renoun of this world.