Confessio Amantis | Page 3

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CONFESSIO AMANTIS
or
TALES OF THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS
By John Gower, 1330-1408 A.D.
The following electronic text is based on that edition published in THE
WORKS OF JOHN GOWER, ed. Prof. G.C. Macauley.
This electronic text was edited and proofed by Douglas B. Killings
([email protected]
), September 1994.
Additional assistance provided by Diane M. Brendan.
CONFESSIO AMANTIS
or
TALES OF THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS
By John Gower, 1330-1408 A.D.
Prologus
Torpor, ebes sensus, scola parua labor minimusque
Causant quo minimus ipse minora canam:
Qua tamen Engisti lingua
canit Insula Bruti
Anglica Carmente metra iuuante loquar.
Ossibus ergo carens que
conterit ossa loquelis
Absit, et interpres stet procul oro malus.
Of hem that writen ous tofore
The bokes duelle, and we therfore

Ben tawht of that was write tho:
Forthi good is that we also
In oure
tyme among ous hiere
Do wryte of newe som matiere,
Essampled

of these olde wyse
So that it myhte in such a wyse,
Whan we ben
dede and elleswhere,
Beleve to the worldes eere 10
In tyme
comende after this.
Bot for men sein, and soth it is,
That who that al
of wisdom writ
It dulleth ofte a mannes wit
To him that schal it
aldai rede,
For thilke cause, if that ye rede,
I wolde go the middel
weie
And wryte a bok betwen the tweie,
Somwhat of lust,
somewhat of lore,
That of the lasse or of the more 20
Som man mai
lyke of that I wryte:
And for that fewe men endite
In oure englissh,
I thenke make
A bok for Engelondes sake,
The yer sextenthe of
kyng Richard.
What schal befalle hierafterward
God wot, for now
upon this tyde
Men se the world on every syde
In sondry wyse so
diversed,
That it welnyh stant al reversed, 30
As forto speke of
tyme ago.
The cause whi it changeth so
It needeth nought to
specifie,
The thing so open is at ije
That every man it mai beholde:

And natheles be daies olde,
Whan that the bokes weren levere,

Wrytinge was beloved evere
Of hem that weren vertuous;
For hier
in erthe amonges ous, 40
If noman write hou that it stode,
The pris
of hem that weren goode
Scholde, as who seith, a gret partie
Be lost:
so for to magnifie
The worthi princes that tho were,
The bokes
schewen hiere and there,
Wherof the world ensampled is;
And tho
that deden thanne amis

Thurgh tirannie and crualte,
Right as thei
stoden in degre, 50
So was the wrytinge of here werk.
Thus I,
which am a burel clerk,
Purpose forto wryte a bok
After the world
that whilom tok
Long tyme in olde daies passed:
Bot for men sein it
is now lassed,
In worse plit than it was tho,
I thenke forto touche
also
The world which neweth every dai,
So as I can, so as I mai. 60

Thogh I seknesse have upon honde
And longe have had, yit woll I
fonde
To wryte and do my bisinesse,
That in som part, so as I gesse,

The wyse man mai ben avised.
For this prologe is so assised
That
it to wisdom al belongeth:
What wysman that it underfongeth,
He
schal drawe into remembrance
The fortune of this worldes chance, 70

The which noman in his persone
Mai knowe, bot the god al one.

Whan the prologe is so despended,
This bok schal afterward ben

ended
Of love, which doth many a wonder
And many a wys man
hath put under.
And in this wyse I thenke trete
Towardes hem that
now be grete,
Betwen the vertu and the vice
Which longeth unto
this office. 80
Bot for my wittes ben to smale
To tellen every man
his tale,
This bok, upon amendment
To stonde at his
commandement,
With whom myn herte is of accord,
I sende unto
myn oghne lord,
Which of Lancastre is Henri named:
The hyhe god
him hath proclamed
Ful of knyhthode and alle grace.
So woll I now
this werk embrace 90
With hol trust and with hol believe;
God
grante I mot it wel achieve.
If I schal drawe in to my mynde
The
tyme passed, thanne I fynde
The world stod thanne in al his welthe:

Tho was the lif of man in helthe,
Tho was plente, tho was richesse,

Tho was the fortune of prouesse,
Tho was knyhthode in pris be name,

Wherof the wyde worldes fame 100
Write in Cronique is yit
withholde;
Justice of lawe tho was holde,
The privilege of regalie

Was sauf, and al the baronie
Worschiped was in his astat;
The
citees knewen no debat,
The poeple stod in obeissance
Under the
reule of governance,
And pes, which ryhtwisnesse keste,
With
charite tho stod in reste: 110
Of mannes herte the corage
Was
schewed thanne in the visage;
The word was lich to the conceite

Withoute semblant of deceite:
Tho was ther unenvied love,
Tho
was the vertu sett above

And vice was put under fote.
Now stant the
crop under the rote,
The world is changed overal,
And therof most
in special 120
That love is falle into discord.
And that I take to
record
Of every lond for his partie
The comun vois, which mai
noght lie;
Noght upon on, bot upon alle
It is that men now clepe
and calle,
And sein the regnes ben divided,
In stede of love is hate
guided,
The werre wol no pes purchace,
And lawe hath take hire
double face, 130
So that justice out of the weie
With ryhtwisnesse
is gon aweie:
And thus to loke on