The tragedies, gathered by Ihon Bochas, of all such princes as fell from theyr estates throughe the mutability of fortune since the creacion of Adam, vntil his time wherin may be seen what vices bring menne to destruccion, wyth notable warninges howe the like may be auoyded. Translated into Englysh by Iohn Lidgate, monke of Burye.

¶ Here Bochas sittinge in his studie alone wryteth a greate processe howe Fortune lyke a Monstruous I∣mage hauynge an .C. handes, apeared vnto hym and spake, and Bochas vnto her: makynge by∣twene them both many great arguments and reasons of fortunes chaunces.

¶ The Fyrst Chapter.

IN hys studye alone as Bochas stode Hys pen in hande, of so∣dayne auenture To remēbre he thought it dyd hym good Howe that no man may him selfe assure In worldly thynges fully to recure Grace of fortune to make her to be stable Her dayly chaunges be so variable.

She braydeth euer on y^• chaūtipleure Now songe now wepyng, now wo now glad∣nesse, Nowe in myrth nowe paine to endure, Nowe lyght now heuy, nowe in swetnesse Nowe in trouble, nowe fre nowe in distresse, Shewyng to vs a maner resemblaunce No worldly welth hath here non assuraūce.

Whyle Bochas pēsyfe stode in hys lybrary Wyth chere oppressed, pale in hys vysage, Somdeale abashed, alone, and solitary, To hym appered a monstruous ymage Parted on twayne of colour and corage, Her ryght syde ful of sōmer floures, The tother oppressed w^t winter stormy shou∣res.

Bochas astoined full feareful to abrayde Whan he behelde the wonderful fygure Of fortune, thus to hym selfe he sayd: What may this meane is this a creature, Or a monstre transfourmed agayne nature, Whose brenning eyen spercle of their light As do the sterres the frosty wynter nyght?

And of her chere ful good hede he toke, Her face semyng cruel and terrible, And by disdayne manasing of loke, Her heare vntrussed, harde, sharpe & horyble, Frowarde of shape lothsome & odible An hundred handes she had of eche parte, In sondry wyse her gyftes to departe.

Some of her handes lyft vp men alofte To hye estate of worldly dignite, Another hande griped full vnsofte Which cast another in great aduersite, Gaue one rychesse an other pouerte, Gaue some also by reporte a good name, Noysed an other of sclaundre and dyffame.

Her habyte was of many folde colours Watchet blewe of fayned stedfastnesse, Her golde allayed lyke son in watry showres Meynt w^t grene for chaunge & doublenesse, A pretence reed, drede meynt wyth hardines, White for clennesse lyke sone for to faile Faint blake for mourning, russet for trauayle

Her colours meynt of wolles more than one Some whyle eclypsed, some while bryght, Dul as an asse whan men had haste to gone, And as a swalowe geryshe of her flyghte, Twene slowe & swifte, now croked nowe vp∣right, Nowe as a creple lowe corbed doun, Nowe as a dwery and nowe a chāpion.

Nowe a cowarde durst not come in prees, Nowe somwhyle hardy as a lyon, Nowe lyke Ector, nowe dredful Thersites, Nowe was she Cresus, nowe Agamēnon, Now Sardanapallus of condicion, Nowe was she mānishe, nowe was she femi∣nyne, Nowe coude she rayne & nowe falsly shyne.

Nowe a Mermayde angelyke of face, A taile behinde very serpentyne, Nowe de bonaire now frowarde to do grace, Nowe as a lambe tretable & benigne, Nowe lyke a wolfe of nature to maligne, Nowe Sirenes to synge folke a slepe Tyl Caribdis drowne thē in the depe.

Thus Bochas considringe her figure, Al her features in ordre he gan beholde, Her bredth her lēgthe, her shape & her stature An hundred handes & armes there he tolde, Wherof astoined his herte gan wexe colde: And amonge al her membres euerychone Hym sempte she had no fete vpon to gone.

And whyle that he considred al thys thynge Twene them as it were in a traunce, She sodainly towarde him loking He conceiued by her countenaunce Were it for yre were it for plesaunce, Outher for fauour outher for disdaine By the maner she woulde somwhat sayne.

Loking as coye as she had had disdaine Bochas (quod she) I knowe all thyne entent Howe thou trauailest, busiest the in vaine In thy study euer diligent, Nowe in the west nowe in the orient, To seche stories north and meridien Of worthy princes y^t here toforne haue ben.

Some dwelled vnder the pole artike By my fauour vp raysed to the sterres, Other vnder the pole A••tartyke Which in contrary fro vs so ferre is, Some encreced and set vp by the werres: Lyke as me lyst their triūphes tauaunce Frownig on other I brought thē to mischāce.

I se the busy remembring by Scripture Stories of princes in euery maner age, As my fauour foloweth their auenture, By humble style set in playne langage, Not made curious by none auauntage Of rethorikes, with muses for to striue, But in plaine four me their dedes to discriue.

In which processe thou doest great dyligence. As they deserue to yeue thē thanke or blame, Settest vp one in roiall excellence Within my house called the house of Fame, The golden trumpet w^t blastes of good name Enhaunceth on to ful hie parties, Wher Jupiter sytteth amōg the heuēly skies.

Another trūpet of sownes full vengeable Which bloweth vp at feastes funerall, Nothinge bright but of colour sable Ferre fro my fauour, deadly, and mortal, To plonge princes from their estate royall Whan I am wroth to make thē lowte lowe, Than of malice I do that trumpet blowe.

Thou hast written & set togyther in grose Lyke their desertes worldly mennes dedes, Nothing conceled nor vnder couert close, Spared the crownes nor their purple wedes, Nor goldē septers, but yaue thē their medes: Crowned one w^t laurer hye on hys head set, Other with peruinke made for the gybet.

Thus diuersly my giftes I depart, One accepte another is refused, Lyke hasardours my dyce I do ieoparte, One well furthered another is accused, My play is double my trust is euer abused, Though one to daye my fauour hath wonne, To morow againe I can eclipse his sonne.

Cause of my cōmyng plainly to declare By good auice, vnto thy presence, Is to shewe my maners and not spare, And my condicions breuely in sentence Preued of olde and newe experience: Plainly to shewe me lyst not for to rowne, To day I flater, to morowe I can frowne.

This houre I can shewe me merciable, And sodainly I can be dispitous, Now wel wylled, nowe hastely vengeable, Nowe sobre of chere, nowe hasty & furious, My play vncouth, my maners maruaylous Brayd on y^• wynde, nowe glad & now murne, Lyke a wedercock my face eche day I turne.

Wherin Bochas I tel the yet agayne Thou doest folly thy wyttes for to ply, All thy labour thou spyllest in vayne Gayne my maners so fully to reply, By thy writyng to fynde a remedy To interrupt in thy last dayes, My statutes, and my customable wayes,

Al the labour of Phylosophers olde Trauayle of Poetes my maners to depraue, Hath ben of yore to say lyke as they woulde, Ouer my fredom the souerainte to haue:

But of my lawes the liberte to saue Vpon my whele they shall them not defende, But whan me list than they shal discende.

Why shoulde men put me in blame To folowe the nature of my double play? With newe buddes dothe not Ver the same Whan primroses appere fresh and gay? To day they shewe to morowe gon away: Somer after of flours hath foyson Tyl Iune w^t sythes after mowe thē doun.

Nowe is the see calme and blaundyshyng, Nowe are the wyndes comfortable & styll, Nowe is Boreas sturdy in blowynge Which yonge shepe & blosomes greueth yl: Why also shoulde I not haue my wyl, To shewe my selfe now smothe, & after trou∣ble Syth to my kynde it longeth to be double?

No man so ferre is fall in wretchednesse But that he standeth in trust to ryse agayne, Nor none so depe plonged in distresse Nor with dispaire nor wāhope ouer layne, But that there is some hope left certaine To yeue him comforte, seruynge his entent, To be releued whan me lyst assent.

The erth is clad in motlayes whyte & rede, Whan Estas entreth with vyolettes sote, The greues are grene, & in euery mede The vawm fleteth which doth to herts bote: Angust passed, againe in to the rote By course of nature y^• vertue doth resorte, To reuolucion of kynde I me reporte.

Who should than debarre me to be double, Sith doublenesse longeth to me of right▪ Nowe lyke sōmer nowe with winter trouble, Now blinde of loke derke as y^• cloudy nyght, Nowe glad of there of herte mery & lyghte: They be but foles againe my myght to muse Or me atwite though I my power vse.

Selde or neuer I byde not in one poynt, Men must at lowpes take me as they fynde, And whan I stande furthest out of ioynt To set folkes backwarde farr behynde Than worldly men with their eyen blynd Sore complayne vpon my doublenesse, Call me than the frowarde false goddesse.

Thus by your wrytig & marueilous lāgage I am disclaundred of mutabilite, Wherof by ryght I catche great auauntage Syth doublenesse no sclaunder is to me, Whiche is a percel of my liberte: To be called by tytle of ryghtwysnesse Of chaunges newe lady and princesse.

Thus whan fortune had sayd her wyl Parcell declared of her gouernaunce, Made a stint and soberly stode styll, Jhon Bochas sate & herde al her dalyaunce, Feareful of chere, pale of countenaunce In order enprinted eche thynge y^t she sayde, Ful demure thus he dyd abrayde.

He toke vpon him vertue and corage Vpon a poynte for to abyde stable, Certes (quod he) lyke to thy vysage All worldly thiges be double & chaungeable, Yet for my parte by remembraunce notable, I shal perfourme southly if I conne, This litel boke that I haue begonne.

And lest my labour dye not nor appall Of this boke the tytle for to saue, Among myne other lytel workes all With letters large aboue vpō my graue This bookes name shall in stone be graue: Howe I John Bochas in especial Of worldly princes written haue the fall.

Of whyche emprise the cause to discriue Thys was first grounde, I wyl not deny, To eschewe slouth and vyces all my lyue, And specially the vyce of glottony, Which is norice vnto lechery: This was chefe cause why I vndertoke The compylacion of this lytle boke.

Yet by thy talkyng as I vnderstande Eche thing here of nature is chaungeable, After thy sentence both on see & lande, Yet coude I reken thynges that be stable As vertuous lyfe abydyng vnmutable, Set hole to godwarde of wyl & thought, Maugre thy power, & ne chaūgeth nought.

Thou mayst eke call vnto remembraunce Thinges made stable by grace whiche is de∣uyne Hast thou not herde y^• perseueraūce Of holy martirs whych lyst not to decline Fro Chrystes fayth tyl they dyd fyne? Thy whele in them had none interesse To make them vary fro their stablenesse.

A man that is enarmed in vertue

Againe thy myght to make resistence, And set his trust by grace in Christ Iesu And hath al hole his hertely aduertence Ou ryght wisnesse, force, and on prudence, With theyr suster called Attemperaunce, Hath a sauecondute againe thy variaunce.

They set no store by thy double whele, With supportacion of other ladyes thre Their trust stād not in plate, mayle, or stele, But in these vertues faythe hope & charite, Called vertues theologice: Watch wyth the fowre afore here specified Thy whele and the haue vtterly defied.

If I with wynges might flye to heauen, There shoulde I se thou hast nothyng adone With Jupiter, nor the planetes seuen, With Phebus, Mars, mercury, nor the mone But worldly foles erly late and sone Such as be blent or dyrked with lewdnesse, By false opinion call the a goddesse.

Giftes of grace, nor giftes of nature, Almesse dede done with humilite, Loue and cōpassion be ferre out of thy cure Semelinesse strength boūtye or beaute Vertuously vsed in their degre, Gaine non of these thy power may not stretch For who is vertuous lytel of thee doth retch.

Of thy condicions to set another prefe, Which foles vse in their aduersite For excusacion, as somtyme sayeth a thefe Whan he is hanged it was his destyne, A••witeth fortune of his iniquite, As she had power & domination To rule man by wyl againe reason.

For whych quod Jhon Bochas in party deso∣late To determin such heauenly hid fecrees, To tho that be deuines of estate I remit such vncouth priuitees: And w^t Poetes that be of lowe degrees I esche we to climbe to hye a loft Lest for presumpcion I shuld not fal soft.

But if I had hyd in my corage Such misteries of diuine prouidence, Without enuy I would in plaine langage Vttre them by writinge with huble reuer••ce: Predestynacion nouther prescience Not appertaine fortune vnto the And for my part I wyl excuse me.

And procede lyke as I vndertoke After that I tolde my matere Of fal of princes for to wryte a boke, But yet afore if thou wouldest here I desire of hole herte and entere To haue a copie of princes names al, Which fro thy whele thou hast made to fal.

Thy secre bosome is ful of stories Of sūdry princes how they their life haue lad Of their triumphes and victories Which olde Poetes and Philosophers sad In meter and prose compiled haue an rad, Song their laudes their fautes eke reserued, By remembraunce as they haue deserued,

Of which I haue put some in memory, Theron set my study and laboure So as I coude to their encrease of glory, Though of lāgage I had but smal fauour, Cause Caliope did me no socour, For which thou hast duringe al this while Rebuked me of my rude style.

Men would accoūpt it were a great dulnesse But if language conueied be by prudence, Out declared by sobre auysenesse, Vnder support fauoured by defence Of Tullius chefe prince of eloquence, Should more profite shortly to conclude, Than my style spoke in termes rude.

Yet ofte tyme it hath be felte and seyne Vnder huskes growyng on land erable Hath be founde and tried out good greine, Vnder rude leaues shakynge & vnstable Pulled fayre frute holesome & delytable: And semblably where rethorike hath failed, In blūte termes good coūsaile hath auayled.

Phylosophers of the golden ages, And Poetes that founde out freshe ditees, As king Amphion w^t his faire langages And w^t his harpig made folke of low degrees And laborers tenhabyte firste cytees: And so by musyke and Phylosophy Gan firste of commons noble policy.

The chefe of musike is melody & accorde, Well of Philosophy sprang out of prudence, By whych two meanes gan vnitye & acorde With politike vertue to haue their asistence, Wisemen to reigne, subiectes do reuerence: And by this grounde in stories men may se,

Were bylte the walles of Thebes the citie.

Accorde in musyke causeth the melody Where is discorde there is diuersite, And where is peace is prudent policy, In eche kingdome and euery great countre Strife first induced by thy duplicite: For which y^u maist as clerkes thee discryues, Be called lady of contekes and of striues.

Fyrst were founde out hateful deuysions By thy contriued false mutabilitees, Slaughter, debate, frowarde dyscencions, In regions, prouinces, and citees: Desolacions of townes and of countrees, Where of men had firste experience By thy chaungeable gery violence.

Thus by the opinion of thy whele double As fayre by nature as it was possible, Ouerthwertly thou broughtest mē in troble, Madest eche to other froward and odible, By thy traines vncouth and terrible, Lyke as a corser maketh coltes y^t be wylde, With spurre & whyp to be tame and mylde.

Thus by the tempest of thine aduersitees, To make men more tame of their corages, In their discordes twene kyngdoms & citees After the sharpenes of thy cruel rages, Onely by speche & meane of faire langages, Folke by thy fraude fro grace ferre exyled Were by faire speche to vnyte reconsiled.

People of Grece, of Rome, & of Cartage, Nexte in Itayle with many a region Were indused by swetnesse of faire langage To haue togither their conuersacion, To buylde castels and many a royal toun: What caused this to tell in briefe the fourme, But eloquence rude people to enfourine▪

Afore tyme they were but beastial Tyl they to reason by lawes were cōstrained, Vnder discrecion by statutes natural Fro wilful lustes by prudēce were restrained, By assent made one & togider enchayned In golden chaines of peace and vnite Thus gan the buylding of euery great cite.

But whan thou medlest to haue an entresse, They that were one to bring them at discorde To interrupt with thy doublenesse Citees & regions that were of one accorde: Lyke as thys boke can beare me wel recorde Fro the tyme that thou first began, Thy mutabilite hath stroyed many a man.

Thou causedst men to be obstynate In their corages, and incorrigible, Wilful, & froward, causeles at debate, Eche to other contrarious and odible, Them to refourme almost impossible, Tyl faire speche voidinge diuision Peace reconciled twene many a region.

For there is none so furious outrage Nor no matter so fer out of the way, But that by meane of gracious langage And faire speche, may a man conuay To al reason mekely for to obey: By an example whyche I reherce shal, Wele to purpose and historial.

The hardy knight the cruell Achylles Whan hateful ire assailed his corage, There was no meane w^t him to treat of pees, To styl the tempest of his dolefull rage, Saue onely this which dyd his ire aswage, By attemperaunce to obey to reason Whan of an harpe he heard the swete soun.

Which instrument by hys great swetnesse Put al rancour out of hys remembraunce, Wrested him againe to al gladnesse From him auoiding al rācoure & greuaunce: Semblably fayre speche and daliaunce Set men in rest in realmes here & yonder, By good langage that were ferre asonder.

With these wordes Bochas wext debonaire Towarde fortune as he cast his loke, Withdrewe his rancour and to speke faire Touching his labour y^t he vpon him toke Beseching her for to forther his boke, That his name which was but little knowe, By good report might be further blowe.

That his name might ferther sprede Which stode as yet shrouded in derknesse, By her fauour his name forth to lede His boke to forther do her businesse, By good reporte to yeue it a bryghtnesse, with laureate stremes shad forth to people al By foryetfulnesse that it neuer appall.

This was the hyl whych y^t Jhon Bochas Made vnto fortune with ful humble style, Whan fortune had conteiued al his caas

Soberly stoode and gan stynt a while, And glad of chere after she gan smyle On myne auctour, and with a freshe visage In sentence spake to him this langage.

Sothly (quod she) I se the busines Of mortall men, howe curious y^t they be, Howe they study by greate auysenesse Of my secretes for to be priue: To knowe the conceites hyd within me, And my counsails, ye men do al your payne Albe that lightly ye may not therto attayne.

In this matter your wyt doth neuer faynt Ymaginyng my lykenesse in your mynde, Lyke your conceytes ye forge me & painte Somtyme a woman w^t winges set behinde, And portrayen me with eyen y^t ben blynde: Cause of al this brefely to expresse, Is your owne couetous blyndnesse.

Your appetites most straunge & dyuers And euer full of chaunge and doublenesse, Frowarde also malicious and peruers, By hastye clymbing to worship & riches, Alway voyde of trouth and stablenesse: Most presūptuous, serche out in al degrees, Falsly to attayne to worldly dignitees.

Bochas Bochas I perceiue euery thyng, And knowe full wele the great difference Hyd in thy selfe of wordes and thynkyng, Atwene them both the disconuenience: Hast thou not writen many great sentence In thy boke to sclaundre wyth my name, Of hole entent my maners to defame▪

Thou callest me stepmother most vnkynde, And somtyme a false enchauntresse, A mermaide with a taile behind, Of scorne somwhyle me namyng a goddesse, Somtyme a witch, somtyme a sorceresse, Fynder of murdre and of disceites al, Thus of malice mortal men me call.

Al this is done in dyspite of me By accusacion in many sondry wyse, Ye oft appeche my mutabilite Namely whā I your requestes do dispyse, For to accomplyshe your gredy couetise: Whan ye fayle ye lay on me the wyte Of your aduersitees, me falsly to atwite.

And thou of purpose for teslaundre me Hast writen vngoodly a cōtrarious fable, Howe I wrestled wyth glad pouerte, To whose party thou were fauourable, Settest me a backe, gayne me y^u were vengea∣ble Nowe of newe requirest my fauour The for to helpe and forther thy labour.

Ascaunce I am of maners most chaungeable, Of condicions very femynine, Now here now ther as y^e wynde vnstable, By thy discripcion and by thy doctrine, To euery chaunge redy to enclyne: As women ben yong and tēdre of age, Which of nature be diuers of corage.

But for to further in party thyne entent That of thy boke the processe may procede, By my fauour to the accomplishment I am wel wylled to helpe the in thy nede, Like thy desire the better thou shalt spede, Whan I am towarde with a benigne face To spede thy ioruey by support of my grace.

That thy name and also thy surname With Poetes and many an olde auctour, May be regestred in the house of Fame, By supportacion of my sodaine fauour, By assistence also of my socour Thy worke texplete the laurer for to wyn At Saturninus I wyl that thou begin.