Confessio Amantis | Page 6

holy cherche goth beside,

Which scheweth
outward a visage
Of that is noght in the corage.
For if men loke in
holy cherche,
Betwen the word and that thei werche 450
Ther is a
full gret difference:
Thei prechen ous in audience
That noman schal
his soule empeire,
For al is bot a chirie feire
This worldes good, so
as thei telle;
Also thei sein ther is an helle,
Which unto mannes
sinne is due,
And bidden ous therfore eschue
That wikkid is, and do
the goode.
Who that here wordes understode, 460
It thenkth thei
wolden do the same;
Bot yet betwen ernest and game
Ful ofte it
torneth other wise.
With holy tales thei devise
How meritoire is
thilke dede
Of charite, to clothe and fede
The povere folk and forto
parte
The worldes good, bot thei departe
Ne thenken noght fro that
thei have.
Also thei sein, good is to save 470
With penance and

with abstinence
Of chastite the continence;
Bot pleinly forto speke
of that,
I not how thilke body fat,
Which thei with deynte metes
kepe
And leyn it softe forto slepe,
Whan it hath elles al his wille,

With chastite schal stonde stille:
And natheles I can noght seie,
In
aunter if that I misseye. 480
Touchende of this, how evere it stonde,

I here and wol noght understonde,
For therof have I noght to done:

Bot he that made ferst the Mone,
The hyhe god, of his goodnesse,

If ther be cause, he it redresce.
Bot what as eny man accuse,
This
mai reson of trowthe excuse;
The vice of hem that ben ungoode
Is
no reproef unto the goode: 490
For every man hise oghne werkes

Schal bere, and thus as of the clerkes
The goode men ben to comende,

And alle these othre god amende:
For thei ben to the worldes ije

The Mirour of ensamplerie,
To reulen and to taken hiede
Betwen
the men and the godhiede.
Now forto speke of the comune,
It is to
drede of that fortune 500
Which hath befalle in sondri londes:
Bot
often for defalte of bondes
Al sodeinliche, er it be wist,
A Tonne,
whanne his lye arist,
Tobrekth and renneth al aboute,
Which elles
scholde noght gon oute;
And ek fulofte a litel Skar
Upon a Banke,
er men be war,
Let in the Strem, which with gret peine,
If evere
man it schal restreigne. 510
Wher lawe lacketh, errour groweth,
He
is noght wys who that ne troweth,
For it hath proeved ofte er this;

And thus the comun clamour is

In every lond wher poeple dwelleth,

And eche in his compleignte telleth
How that the world is al
miswent,
And ther upon his jugement
Yifth every man in sondry
wise.
Bot what man wolde himself avise, 520
His conscience and
noght misuse,
He may wel ate ferste excuse
His god, which evere
stant in on:
In him ther is defalte non,
So moste it stonde upon
ousselve
Nought only upon ten ne twelve,
Bot plenerliche upon ous
alle,
For man is cause of that schal falle.
And natheles yet som men
wryte
And sein that fortune is to wyte, 530
And som men holde
oppinion
That it is constellacion,
Which causeth al that a man doth:

God wot of bothe which is soth.
The world as of his propre kynde

Was evere untrewe, and as the blynde
Improprelich he demeth

fame,
He blameth that is noght to blame
And preiseth that is noght
to preise:
Thus whan he schal the thinges peise, 540
Ther is
deceipte in his balance,
And al is that the variance
Of ous, that
scholde ous betre avise;
For after that we falle and rise,
The world
arist and falth withal,
So that the man is overal
His oghne cause of
wel and wo.
That we fortune clepe so
Out of the man himself it
groweth;
And who that other wise troweth, 550
Behold the poeple
of Irael:
For evere whil thei deden wel,
Fortune was hem debonaire,

And whan thei deden the contraire,
Fortune was contrariende.
So
that it proeveth wel at ende
Why that the world is wonderfull
And
may no while stonde full,
Though that it seme wel besein;
For
every worldes thing is vein, 560
And evere goth the whiel aboute,

And evere stant a man in doute,
Fortune stant no while stille,
So
hath ther noman al his wille.
Als fer as evere a man may knowe,

Ther lasteth nothing bot a throwe;
The world stant evere upon debat,

So may be seker non astat,
Now hier now ther, now to now fro,

Now up now down, this world goth so, 570
And evere hath don and
evere schal:
Wherof I finde in special
A tale writen in the Bible,

Which moste nedes be credible;
And that as in conclusioun
Seith
that upon divisioun
Stant, why no worldes thing mai laste,
Til it be
drive to the laste.
And fro the ferste regne of alle
Into this day, hou
so befalle, 580
Of that the regnes be muable
The man himself hath
be coupable,
Which of his propre governance
Fortuneth al the
worldes chance.
The hyhe almyhti pourveance,
In whos eterne
remembrance
Fro ferst was every thing present,
He hath his
prophecie sent,
In such a wise as thou schalt hiere,
To Daniel of this
matiere, 590
Hou that this world schal torne and wende,
Till it be
falle to his ende;
Wherof the tale telle I schal,
In which it is
betokned al.
As Nabugodonosor slepte,
A swevene him tok, the
which he kepte
Til on the morwe he was arise,
For he therof was
sore agrise.
To Daniel his drem he tolde,
And preide