Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)

by Homer

Fortune, which may every thred

  Tobreke and knette of mannes sped, 1420

  Schop, as this knyht rod in a pas,

  That he be strengthe take was,

  And to a Castell thei him ladde,

  Wher that he fewe frendes hadde:

  For so it fell that ilke stounde

  That he hath with a dedly wounde

  Feihtende his oghne hondes slain

  Branchus, which to the Capitain

  Was Sone and Heir, wherof ben wrothe

  The fader and the moder bothe. 1430

  That knyht Branchus was of his hond

  The worthieste of al his lond,

  And fain thei wolden do vengance

  Upon Florent, bot remembrance

  That thei toke of his worthinesse

  Of knyhthod and of gentilesse,

  And how he stod of cousinage

  To themperour, made hem assuage,

  And dorsten noght slen him for fere:

  In gret desputeisoun thei were 1440

  Among hemself, what was the beste.

  Ther was a lady, the slyheste

  Of alle that men knewe tho,

  So old sche myhte unethes go,

  And was grantdame unto the dede:

  And sche with that began to rede,

  And seide how sche wol bringe him inne,

  That sche schal him to dethe winne

  Al only of his oghne grant,

  Thurgh strengthe of verray covenant 1450

  Withoute blame of eny wiht.

  Anon sche sende for this kniht,

  And of hire Sone sche alleide

  The deth, and thus to him sche seide:

  “Florent, how so thou be to wyte

  Of Branchus deth, men schal respite

  As now to take vengement,

  Be so thou stonde in juggement

  Upon certein condicioun,

  That thou unto a questioun 1460

  Which I schal axe schalt ansuere;

  And over this thou schalt ek swere,

  That if thou of the sothe faile,

  Ther schal non other thing availe,

  That thou ne schalt thi deth receive.

  And for men schal thee noght deceive,

  That thou therof myht ben avised,

  Thou schalt have day and tyme assised

  And leve saufly forto wende,

  Be so that at thi daies ende 1470

  Thou come ayein with thin avys.

  This knyht, which worthi was and wys,

  This lady preith that he may wite,

  And have it under Seales write,

  What questioun it scholde be

  For which he schal in that degree

  Stonde of his lif in jeupartie.

  With that sche feigneth compaignie,

  And seith: “Florent, on love it hongeth

  Al that to myn axinge longeth: 1480

  What alle wommen most desire

  This wole I axe, and in thempire

  Wher as thou hast most knowlechinge

  Tak conseil upon this axinge.”

  Florent this thing hath undertake,

  The day was set, the time take,

  Under his seal he wrot his oth,

  In such a wise and forth he goth

  Hom to his Emes court ayein;

  To whom his aventure plein 1490

  He tolde, of that him is befalle.

  And upon that thei weren alle

  The wiseste of the lond asent,

  Bot natheles of on assent

  Thei myhte noght acorde plat,

  On seide this, an othre that.

  After the disposicioun

  Of naturel complexioun

  To som womman it is plesance,

  That to an other is grevance; 1500

  Bot such a thing in special,

  Which to hem alle in general

  Is most plesant, and most desired

  Above alle othre and most conspired,

  Such o thing conne thei noght finde

  Be Constellacion ne kinde:

  And thus Florent withoute cure

  Mot stonde upon his aventure,

  And is al schape unto the lere,

  As in defalte of his answere. 1510

  This knyht hath levere forto dye

  Than breke his trowthe and forto lye

  In place ther as he was swore,

  And schapth him gon ayein therfore.

  Whan time cam he tok his leve,

  That lengere wolde he noght beleve,

  And preith his Em he be noght wroth,

  For that is a point of his oth,

  He seith, that noman schal him wreke,

  Thogh afterward men hiere speke 1520

  That he par aventure deie.

  And thus he wente forth his weie

  Alone as knyht aventurous,

  And in his thoght was curious

  To wite what was best to do:

  And as he rod al one so,

  And cam nyh ther he wolde be,

  In a forest under a tre

  He syh wher sat a creature,

  A lothly wommannysch figure, 1530

  That forto speke of fleisch and bon

  So foul yit syh he nevere non.

  This knyht behield hir redely,

  And as he wolde have passed by,

  Sche cleped him and bad abide;

  And he his horse heved aside

  Tho torneth, and to hire he rod,

  And there he hoveth and abod,

  To wite what sche wolde mene.

  And sche began him to bemene, 1540

  And seide: “Florent be thi name,

  Thou hast on honde such a game,

  That bot thou be the betre avised,

  Thi deth is schapen and devised,

  That al the world ne mai the save,

  Bot if that thou my conseil have.”

  Florent, whan he this tale herde,

  Unto this olde wyht answerde

  And of hir conseil he hir preide.

  And sche ayein to him thus seide: 1550

  “Florent, if I for the so schape,

  That thou thurgh me thi deth ascape

  And take worschipe of thi dede,

  What schal I have to my mede?”

  “What thing,” quod he, “that thou wolt axe.”

  “I bidde nevere a betre taxe,”

  Quod sche, “bot ferst, er thou be sped,

  Thou schalt me leve such a wedd,

  That I wol have thi trowthe in honde

  That thou schalt be myn housebonde.” 1560

  “Nay,” seith Florent, “that may noght be.”

  “Ryd thanne forth thi wey,” quod sche,

  “And if thou go withoute red,

  Thou schalt be sekerliche ded.”

  Florent behihte hire good ynowh

  Of lond, of rente, of park, of plowh,

  Bot al that compteth sche at noght.

  Tho fell this knyht in mochel thoght,

  Now goth he forth, now comth ayein,

  He wot noght what is best to sein, 1570

  And thoghte, as he rod to and fro,

  That chese he mot on of the tuo,

  Or forto take hire to his wif

  Or elles forto lese his lif.

  And thanne he caste his avantage,

  That sche was of so gret an age,

  That sche mai live bot a while,

  And thoghte put hire in an Ile,

  Wher that noman hire scholde knowe,

  Til sche with deth were overthrowe. 1580

  And thus this yonge lusti knyht

  Unto this olde lothly wiht

  Tho seide: “If that non other chance

  Mai make my deliverance,

  Bot only thilke same speche

  Which, as thou seist, thou schalt me teche,

  Have hier myn hond, I schal thee wedde.”

  And thus his trowthe he leith to wedde.

  With that sche frounceth up the browe:

  “This covenant I wol allo
we,” 1590

  Sche seith: “if eny other thing

  Bot that thou hast of my techyng

  Fro deth thi body mai respite,

  I woll thee of thi trowthe acquite,

  And elles be non other weie.

  Now herkne me what I schal seie.

  Whan thou art come into the place,

  Wher now thei maken gret manace

  And upon thi comynge abyde,

  Thei wole anon the same tide 1600

  Oppose thee of thin answere.

  I wot thou wolt nothing forbere

  Of that thou wenest be thi beste,

  And if thou myht so finde reste,

  Wel is, for thanne is ther nomore.

  And elles this schal be my lore,

  That thou schalt seie, upon this Molde

  That alle wommen lievest wolde

  Be soverein of mannes love:

  For what womman is so above, 1610

  Sche hath, as who seith, al hire wille;

  And elles may sche noght fulfille

  What thing hir were lievest have.

  With this answere thou schalt save

  Thiself, and other wise noght.

  And whan thou hast thin ende wroght,

  Com hier ayein, thou schalt me finde,

  And let nothing out of thi minde.”

  He goth him forth with hevy chiere,

  As he that not in what manere 1620

  He mai this worldes joie atteigne:

  For if he deie, he hath a peine,

  And if he live, he mot him binde

  To such on which of alle kinde

  Of wommen is thunsemlieste:

  Thus wot he noght what is the beste:

  Bot be him lief or be him loth,

  Unto the Castell forth he goth

  His full answere forto yive,

  Or forto deie or forto live. 1630

  Forth with his conseil cam the lord,

  The thinges stoden of record,

  He sende up for the lady sone,

  And forth sche cam, that olde Mone.

  In presence of the remenant

  The strengthe of al the covenant

  Tho was reherced openly,

  And to Florent sche bad forthi

  That he schal tellen his avis,

  As he that woot what is the pris. 1640

  Florent seith al that evere he couthe,

  Bot such word cam ther non to mowthe,

  That he for yifte or for beheste

  Mihte eny wise his deth areste.

  And thus he tarieth longe and late,

  Til that this lady bad algate

  That he schal for the dom final

  Yive his answere in special

  Of that sche hadde him ferst opposed:

  And thanne he hath trewly supposed 1650

  That he him may of nothing yelpe,

  Bot if so be tho wordes helpe,

  Whiche as the womman hath him tawht;

  Wherof he hath an hope cawht

  That he schal ben excused so,

  And tolde out plein his wille tho.

  And whan that this Matrone herde

  The manere how this knyht ansuerde,

  Sche seide: “Ha treson, wo thee be,

  That hast thus told the privite, 1660

  Which alle wommen most desire!

  I wolde that thou were afire.”

  Bot natheles in such a plit

  Florent of his answere is quit:

  And tho began his sorwe newe,

  For he mot gon, or ben untrewe,

  To hire which his trowthe hadde.

  Bot he, which alle schame dradde,

  Goth forth in stede of his penance,

  And takth the fortune of his chance, 1670

  As he that was with trowthe affaited.

  This olde wyht him hath awaited

  In place wher as he hire lefte:

  Florent his wofull heved uplefte

  And syh this vecke wher sche sat,

  Which was the lothlieste what

  That evere man caste on his yhe:

  Hire Nase bass, hire browes hyhe,

  Hire yhen smale and depe set,

  Hire chekes ben with teres wet, 1680

  And rivelen as an emty skyn

  Hangende doun unto the chin,

  Hire Lippes schrunken ben for age,

  Ther was no grace in the visage,

  Hir front was nargh, hir lockes hore,

  Sche loketh forth as doth a More,

  Hire Necke is schort, hir schuldres courbe,

  That myhte a mannes lust destourbe,

  Hire body gret and nothing smal,

  And schortly to descrive hire al, 1690

  Sche hath no lith withoute a lak;

  Bot lich unto the wollesak

  Sche proferth hire unto this knyht,

  And bad him, as he hath behyht,

  So as sche hath ben his warant,

  That he hire holde covenant,

  And be the bridel sche him seseth.

  Bot godd wot how that sche him pleseth

  Of suche wordes as sche spekth:

  Him thenkth welnyh his herte brekth 1700

  For sorwe that he may noght fle,

  Bot if he wolde untrewe be.

  Loke, how a sek man for his hele

  Takth baldemoine with Canele,

  And with the Mirre takth the Sucre,

  Ryht upon such a maner lucre

  Stant Florent, as in this diete:

  He drinkth the bitre with the swete,

  He medleth sorwe with likynge,

  And liveth, as who seith, deyinge; 1710

  His youthe schal be cast aweie

  Upon such on which as the weie

  Is old and lothly overal.

  Bot nede he mot that nede schal:

  He wolde algate his trowthe holde,

  As every knyht therto is holde,

  What happ so evere him is befalle:

  Thogh sche be the fouleste of alle,

  Yet to thonour of wommanhiede

  Him thoghte he scholde taken hiede; 1720

  So that for pure gentilesse,

  As he hire couthe best adresce,

  In ragges, as sche was totore,

  He set hire on his hors tofore

  And forth he takth his weie softe;

  No wonder thogh he siketh ofte.

  Bot as an oule fleth be nyhte

  Out of alle othre briddes syhte,

  Riht so this knyht on daies brode

  In clos him hield, and schop his rode 1730

  On nyhtes time, til the tyde

  That he cam there he wolde abide;

  And prively withoute noise

  He bringth this foule grete Coise

  To his Castell in such a wise

  That noman myhte hire schappe avise,

  Til sche into the chambre cam:

  Wher he his prive conseil nam

  Of suche men as he most troste,

  And tolde hem that he nedes moste 1740

  This beste wedde to his wif,

  For elles hadde he lost his lif.

  The prive wommen were asent,

  That scholden ben of his assent:

  Hire ragges thei anon of drawe,

  And, as it was that time lawe,

  She hadde bath, sche hadde reste,

  And was arraied to the beste.

  Bot with no craft of combes brode

  Thei myhte hire hore lockes schode, 1750

  And sche ne wolde noght be schore

  For no conseil, and thei therfore,

  With such atyr as tho was used,

  Ordeinen that it was excused,

  And hid so crafteliche aboute,

  That noman myhte sen hem oute.

  Bot when sche was fulliche arraied

  And hire atyr was al assaied,

  Tho was sche foulere on to se:

  Bot yit it may non other be, 1760

  Thei were wedded in the nyht;

  So wo begon was nevere knyht
/>   As he was thanne of mariage.

  And sche began to pleie and rage,

  As who seith, I am wel ynowh;

  Bot he therof nothing ne lowh,

  For sche tok thanne chiere on honde

  And clepeth him hire housebonde,

  And seith, “My lord, go we to bedde,

  For I to that entente wedde, 1770

  That thou schalt be my worldes blisse:”

  And profreth him with that to kisse,

  As sche a lusti Lady were.

  His body myhte wel be there,

  Bot as of thoght and of memoire

  His herte was in purgatoire.

  Bot yit for strengthe of matrimoine

  He myhte make non essoine,

  That he ne mot algates plie

  To gon to bedde of compaignie: 1780

  And whan thei were abedde naked,

  Withoute slep he was awaked;

  He torneth on that other side,

  For that he wolde hise yhen hyde

  Fro lokynge on that foule wyht.

  The chambre was al full of lyht,

  The courtins were of cendal thinne,

  This newe bryd which lay withinne,

  Thogh it be noght with his acord,

  In armes sche beclipte hire lord, 1790

  And preide, as he was torned fro,

  He wolde him torne ayeinward tho;

  “For now,” sche seith, “we ben bothe on.”

  And he lay stille as eny ston,

  Bot evere in on sche spak and preide,

  And bad him thenke on that he seide,

  Whan that he tok hire be the hond.

  He herde and understod the bond,

  How he was set to his penance,

  And as it were a man in trance 1800

  He torneth him al sodeinly,

  And syh a lady lay him by

  Of eyhtetiene wynter age,

  Which was the faireste of visage

  That evere in al this world he syh:

  And as he wolde have take hire nyh,

  Sche put hire hand and be his leve

  Besoghte him that he wolde leve,

  And seith that forto wynne or lese

  He mot on of tuo thinges chese, 1810

  Wher he wol have hire such on nyht,

  Or elles upon daies lyht,

  For he schal noght have bothe tuo.

  And he began to sorwe tho,

  In many a wise and caste his thoght,

  Bot for al that yit cowthe he noght

  Devise himself which was the beste.

  And sche, that wolde his hertes reste,

  Preith that he scholde chese algate,

  Til ate laste longe and late 1820

  He seide: “O ye, my lyves hele,

  Sey what you list in my querele,

  I not what ansuere I schal yive:

  Bot evere whil that I may live,

  I wol that ye be my maistresse,

  For I can noght miselve gesse

  Which is the beste unto my chois.

  Thus grante I yow myn hole vois,

  Ches for ous bothen, I you preie;

  And what as evere that ye seie, 1830

  Riht as ye wole so wol I.”