The works of our ancient, learned, & excellent English poet, Jeffrey Chaucer as they have lately been compar'd with the best manuscripts, and several things added, never before in print : to which is adjoyn'd The story of the siege of Thebes, by John Lidgate ... : together with The life of Chaucer, shewing his countrey, parentage, education, marriage, children, revenues, service, reward, friends, books, death : also a table, wherein the old and obscure words in Chaucer are explained, and such words ... that either are, by nature or derivation, Arabick, Greek, Latine, Italian, French, Dutch, or Saxon, mark'd with particular notes for the better understanding of their original.

The Remedy of Love.

This Book, drawn for the most part out of the Proverbs of Solomon, is a warning to take heed of the deceitful company of Women.

THis werke who so shall see or rede, Of any incongruitie do me not impeche, Ordinately behoueth me first to procede In deduction thereof, in manner as the leche His patients siknesse oweth first for to seche, The which known, medicin he should applie, And shortly as he can, then shape a remedie.

Right so by counsaile, willing thee to exhort, O yong man prosperous, which doth abound In thy floures of lust belongeth on thee sort, Me first to consider what is root and ground Of thy mischeefe, which is plainly found, Woman farced with fraud and deceit, To thy confusion most allectiue bait.

Fly the miswoman, least she thee deceiue, Thus saith Salomon, which tauʒt was fully The falshed of women in his days to conceiue, The lips of a strumpet ben sweeter than hony, Her throte he saith soupled with oil of flatery, Howbeit, the end and effect of all Bitterer is than any wormwood or gall.

Fly the miswoman, louing thy life, Ware the straungers bland eloquence, Straunge I call her that is not thy wife, Of her beauty haue no concupiscence, Her countenaunce pretending beneuolence, * Beware her signes, and eye so amiable, Hold is for ferme, they ben deceiuable.

Lo an ensample what women be In their signes and countenaunce shortly, I woll shew thee how louers three Loued one woman right entirely, Ech of them knew others maladie, Wherefore was all their daily labour, Who coud approch next in her fauour.

At sundry seasons, as fortune requireth, Seuerally they came to see her welfare, But ones it happened, loue them so fireth, To see their Lady they all would not spare, Of others coming none of them were ware, Till all they mette, whereas they in place Of her Lady saw the desired face.

To supper set, full smally they eat, Full sober and demure in countenaunce, For there taried none of hem for any meat, But on his Lady to giue attendaunce, And in secret wise some signifiaunce Of loue to haue, which perceiuing she, Fetely executed thus her properte.

In due season, as she alway espied Euery thing to execute conueniently, Her one louer first friendly she eied, The second she offred the cup courtesly, The third she gaue token secretly, Vnderneath the bord she trade on his foot, Through his entrailes tikled the hert root.

By your leaue, might I here ask a question Of you my maisters, that selve loues trace, To you likely belongeth the solution, Which of these three stood now in grace? Clerely to answere ye would ask long space, The matter is doubtfull and opinable, To acertaine you I woll my selfe enable.

Of the foresaid three my selfe was one, No man can answere it better than I, Hertely of vs beloued was there none, * But Wattes packe we bare all by and by, Which at last I my selfe gan aspie, In time as me thought then I left y^• daunce, O thoughtfull hert, great is thy greuaunce.

Hence fro me hence, that me for to endite Halpe aye here afore, O ye muses nine, Whilom ye were wont to be mine a••d & light, My penne to direct, my braine to illumine, No lenger alas may I sewe your doctrine, The fresh lustie metres, that I wont to make Haue been here afore, I vtterly forsake.

Come hither thou Hermes, & ye furies all, Which fer ben vnder vs, nigh y^• nether pole, Where Pluto reigneth, O king infernall, Send out thine arpies, send anguish & dole, Miserie and wo, leaue ye me not sole, Of right be present must pain & eke turment, The pale death beseemeth not to be absent.

To me now I call all this lothsome sort, My pains tencrease, my sorows to augment, For worthie I am to be bare of all comfort, Thus sith I haue consumed and mispent Not only my days, but my 5 fold talent, That my lord committed me, I can't recom∣pence I may not too derely abie my negligence.

By the path of penaunce yet woll I reuert To the well of grace, mercy there to fetch, * Despisest not God the meeke contrite hert Of the cock crow, alas y^• I would not retch, And yet it is not late in the second wetch, Mercy shall I purchase by incessaunt crying, The mercies of our lord euer shall I sing.

But well maist thou wail wicked woman, That thou shuldest deceiue thus any innocent And in recompence of my sinne, so as I can, To al men wol I make & leue this monument, In shewing part of thy falshed is mine entent, For all were too much, I cannot well I wote, The cause sheweth plainly he y^t thus wrote.

* If all y^e yearth were parchment scribable, Speedie for the hand, and all manner wood Were hewed and proportioned to pens able, All water inke, in damme or in flood, Euery man being a parfit Scribe and good,

The cursednesse yet and deceit of women Coud not he shewed by the meane of pen.

I flie all odious resemblaunces, The deuils brond call women I might, Whereby man is encensed to mischaunces, Or a stinking rose that faire is in sight, Or deadly empoyson, like y^• sugar white, * Which by his sweetnesse causeth man to tast, And sodainly sleeth & bringeth him to his last.

It is not my manner to vse such language, But this my doctrine, as I may lawfully, I woll holly ground with authoritie sage, Willing both wisedome, and vertue edifie, * Wine and women into apostasie, Cause wisemen to fall, what is that to say, Of wisedome cause them to forget the way.

Wherefore the wiseman doth thee aduise, In whose words can be found no leasing, With the straunger to sit in no wise, Which is not thy wife, fall not in clipping With her, but beware eke of her kissing, Keep with her in wine no altercation, Least that thine hert fall by inclination.

May a man thinkest hide and safe lay Fire in his bosome, without empairement, And brenning of his clothes? or whider he may Walke on hote coles, his feet not brent? As who saith nay, and whereby is ment This foresaid prouerbe and similitude, But that thou ridde thee plainly to denude.

From the flatterers forgetting her gide, The gide of her youth, I mean shamefastnes, Which shuld cause her maidenhead to abide, Her gods behest eke she full recheles, Not retching, committeth it to forgetfulnes, * Neither God ne shame in her hauing place, Needs must such a woman lacke grace.

And all that neigh her in way of sinne To tourne, of grace shall lacke the influence, The pathes of life no more to come in, Wherefore first friend thee with Sapience, Remembring God, and after with Prudence, To thine owne weale that they thee keepe, Vnto thine hert least her words creepe.

In his book where I take my most ground, And in his prouerbes, sage Salomon Telleth a tale, which is plainly found In the fifth chapiter, whider in deed don, Or meekely feined to our instruction, Let clerkes determine, but this am I sure, Much like thing I haue had in vre.

At my window saith he I looked out, Fair yong people, where I saw many, Among hem all, as I looked about, To a yong man fortuned I lent mine eye, Estraunged from his mind it was likely, By the street at a corner nigh his own hous, He went about with eye right curious.

When that the day his light gan withdraw, And the night approched in the twilight, How a woman came and met him I saw, Talking with him vnder shade of the night, Now blessed be God (qd. she) of his might, Which hath fulfilled mine hearts desire, Assaked my paines, which were hote as fire.

And yet mine authour, as it is skill, To follow, I must tell her arrayment, She was full nice, soules like to spill, As nice in countenaunce yet as in garment, For jangling she was of rest impatient, Wandring still, in no place she stode, But restlesse now, and now out she yode.

Now in the house, now in the strete, Now at a corner she standeth in await, Incessauntly busie her pray for to gete, To bring to the lure whom she doth lait. Now where I left, vnto my matter strait I woll tourne againe, how she him mette, Sweetly kissed, and friendly hem grette.

With words of curtesie many and diuerse, Right as in part I haue before told, Now as I can, I purpose to reherse, How she flattering said with visage bold, I haue made vowes and offerings manifold For thy sake, O mine hert, O my loue dere, This day I thanke God all performed were.

Therefore I came out, & made thus astart, Very desirous your welfare to see, Now I haue seene you, pleased is mine hert, In faith shall none haue my loue but ye, As true as I am to you, be to me, I pray you hertely dere hert come home, No man should be to me so welcome.

And in good faith, the sooth for to say, Your comming to me ran in my thought, Herke in your eare, my bed fresh and gay, I haue behanged with tapettes new bought, From Egipt, & from far countries brought, Steined with many a lustie fresh hue, Exceeding gold or Iasper in value.

My chamber is strowed with mirre & insence, With sote sauoring aloes, & with sinamome, Breathing an Aromatike redolence, Surmounting Olibane, in any mans dome, Ye shall betweene my breasts rest if ye come, Let vs haue our desired halsing, For we may safe be till in the morning.

Mine husband is not at home, he is went Forth in his journey, a farre way hence, A bagge with money he hath with him hent, As him thought needfull for his expence, Vnto my word giue faith and credence, Now is the Moone yong, and of light dull, Ere he come home, it woll be at the full.

Thus craftely hath she him besette With her lime roddes, panter, and snare,

The selie soule caught in her nette, Of her sugred mouth alas nothing ware, Thus is he left gracelesse and bare Of helpe, comfort, and ghostly succour, And furthermore, as saith mine authour.

As a beast led to his death, doth pant, This yong man followeth her in that stound, And as a wanton Lambe full ignorant, How he is pulled and drawen to be bound, Vnto the time he hath his deaths wound, And like a bird that hasteth to the grin, Not knowing the perill of his life therein.

Now gentle sonne, saith Salomon, take hede My words in thy breast keepe and make fast, Let her not thy mind in her waies mislede, Be not deceiued, lese not thy tast, Many hath she wounded, many doune cast, Many strong by her hath lost their breath, Her waies, waies of hell leading to death.

And in this little narration precedent, The womans manifold gilt I attend, The yong man alas how she hath shent, Deceiued her husband, her own next friend, In these both, her God she doth offend, To break her spousail, to her is of no weight, Furdermore to shew womans craft & sleight.

A woman at her dore sate on a stall, To see folke passe by streets of the cite, With eye and countenance eke she gan call, If there be any prety one come nere to me, Come hither ye piggesnye, ye little babe, At last she said to a yong man hartlesse, Of her deceit vnware and defencelesse:

* Much sweeter she saith, & more acceptable Is drinke, when it is stollen priuely, Tha when it is taken in forme auowable: Bread hid and gotten jeoperdously, Must needs be sweet, and semblably, * Venison stolne is aye the sweeter, The ferther the narrower fet the better.

And whom this woman (saith Salom.) festes, The yong man woteth not whom she doth fede, Of the dark deepnesse of hell ben her ghests, Beware yong man therefore I thee rede, And how be it cheefly for thy good spede, This werk to compile I haue take in charge, I must of pity my charity enlarge.

With the selie man which is thus begiled, Her husband I mean, I woll wepe and waile His painfull infortune, whereby reuiled Causelesse he is, neuer to conuaile, Euery man yong and old woll him assaile With words of occasion, with the loth name, And alas good soule, he nothing to blame.

But she that coud so ill do and wold, Hers be the blame for her demerite, And leaue that opprobrous name cokold, To aproper to him as in dispite, Ransake yet we would if we might, Of this worde the true Ortographie, The very discent and Ethimologie.

The well and ground of the first inuencion, To know the ortographie we must deriue, Which is coke and cold, in composicion, By reason, as nigh as I can contriue, Then how it is written we know beliue, But yet lo, by what reason and ground, Was it of these two wordes compound.

As of one cause to giue very judgement, Themilogie let vs first behold: Eche letter an hole word doth represent, As C, put for colde, and O, for old, K, is for knaue, thus diuers men hold, The first parte of this name we haue found, Let vs ethimologise the second.

As the first finder ment I am sure, C, for calot, for of, we haue O, L, for leude, O, for demeanure, The craft of the enuentour ye may see lo, How one name signifieth persones two, A colde old knaue, cokold himselfe wening, And eke a calot of leude demeaning.

The second cause of thimposicion, Of this foresaid name of jealousie, To be jelouse is greatest occasion To be cokold, that men can aspie, And though the passion be very firie, And of continuell feruence and heete, The pacient aye suffreth cold on his feete.

And who that is jelous, and aye in a drede, Is full of Melancolie and gallie ire, His wiues nose (if she misse trede,) He woll cut off, ye and conspire His death who that woll her desire: Which she perceiuing brasteth his gall, And anone his great woodnesse doth fall.

As soone as she hath knit him that knot, Now is he tame that was so ramagious, Mekely sitteth he doune and taketh his lot, Layed been now his lookes so furious, And he but late as a cocke bataylous, Hote in his quarell, to auenge him bold, Now is he called both coke and cold.

This saying, to all curtesie dissonant, Which seemeth that it of malice grewe, In this rude treatise I woll not plant, As parcell thereof, but onely to shewe, The opinion of the talcatife shrewe, * Which in ill saying is euer merie, No man as I thereof so werie.

But I as parcell of this my booke, Woll graffe in some sad counsaile whereby, The wedded man, if he daigne to looke In it, the better shall mowe him gie, And prouide for his said infortunie, Which as I haue said, with him complaine I woll, as partener of his great paine.

As most expedient to his weale, I would all jelousie were abject, If he be jelous, that he it conceale, And in his labour be circumspect, To know her wayes if they seeme suspect, * And not for to breake, for one word broken, She woll not misse but she woll be wroken.

* Forbid her not, that thou noldest haue don, For looke what thing she is forbod, To that of all things she is most prone, Namely if it be ill and no good, Till it be executed she is nigh wood, Soch is a woman, and soch is her feat, * Her craft by craft, labour to defeat.

If thou hereafter, now a single man, Shouldest be jelous if thou haddest a wife, Wedde not but if thou can trust woman, For els shouldest lede a carefull life, That thou most lothest should be full rife, Yet I nill gainesay Matrimonie, * But Melius est nubere quam uri.

That is to say, better is in Wedlocke, A wife to take, as the church doth kenne, Than to been vnder the fleshes yoke, In fleshly lust alway for to brenne. But as I said, for all jelous menne, * So they liue chaste, I hold it lasse ill, That they wedde not, than them self spill.

The single man which is yet to wedde, And not the wedded man, thus I rede, To warne him now he is too farre spedde, It is too late him to forbedde, But let him take as for his owne need, Soch counsaile as is him before told, These words folowing eke to behold.

Thy water to keep the wiseman doth teach, That thou in no wise let it haue issue, At a narow rifte, way it woll seach, And semblably the woman vntrue, To giue her free walke in al wise eschue, * If she at large, not at thine hand walke, She woll thee shame, thou shalt it not balke.

Wedded or single, thus saith the wiseman, * Her that both day and night euermore, Lithe in thy bosome, wife or yet lemman, Loue not to hote, least thou repent sore, Least she thee bring into some ill lore, Thy wife not to loue yet I nill support, But that thou dote not, thus I thee exhort.

Lo if thou loue her, loue eke thine honestie, Be she not idell, for what woll betide, * If she sit idell, of very necessitie, Her mind woll search ferre and eke wide, Namely if she be not accompanide, How accompanied, not with yong men, But with maidens I meane or women.

Maiden seruants be right conuenient, In house to helpe to doe her seruice, In whom she may vse her commaundement, In the season at her owne deuice: To teach hem good, yeue her thine aduice, To make them huswiues, thus businesse May yet refraine her from idlenesse.

But bide not her that thou wolt haue do, Of thine entent that might be letting, But craftely encourage her thereto By other meanes, as by commending, And not too moch, but duely menging Both praise and blame, and in thy reason First praise wisely the place and season.

Of faithfull will, and hert full tender, One thing I call into remembraunce Again which, though my wit be slender, After my power and suffisaunce, I purpose to make a purueyaunce, Sith women of nature been vnchaungeable, Freale, not ware, also disceiuable.

Be it that thy wife be excellently good, That none be better of disposicion, In processe of time she might turn her mood, By some misse liuers instigacion, * Diuers men to thilke occupacion, Aplien daily, minde and eke hert, From her goodnesse women to peruert.

If thou aspie any suspect person, Draw to thy wife, beware in all wise To him nor her of thy suspeccion Breake not one worde, though thine herte a∣grise, * Kindle no fire, no smoke woll arise, Though he be of a corrupt entent, She perauenture is not of assent.