This worke folowinge was compiled by Chaucer, and is caled The Craft of Lovers.

MORAL is a fymylytude, who lift ther balades fewe,
The Craft of Lovirs curious arguments,

For fom bin falfe and fom ben foundin trewe,
And fom bin double of entendèments;
Thus lovirs with ther moral documents
And elo'quent langage can examplifye
The Craft of Love what it doth fignifie.
Who lift unto this balades have infpección
Thinke that Lov'is lordshipis excellente
Is remedy for difefe and correccion
To woful herte and body impotente,
Suppofe the maker that he be negligente
In his compilinge, holde him excufable,
Becaufe his fpi'rites be fory' and lamentable.
Soverain lady, furmounting your nobles,
O' intenuate jenipre' and daifi delicious!
My trust, mine helth, my cordial foundresse,
O medi'cine fanatife to fores lango'rous,
Comfortable creture of lovirs amo'rous!
O'excellente herbir of loveli countinaunce!
Regiftir my love in your remembraunce.

Certis, Sir, your ypeintid eloquence,

So gay, fo frefhe, and eke so talcatife,

It doth tranfcende the wit of Dame Prudence

For to declare your thought or to discrive,
So gloriously glad langage ye contrive

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Of your conseite, your thought, and your entente, I wil be ware, for drede or I be fhent.

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O rubi'cunde rofe, and white as the lyly,
Clari'fied christal of worldly portraiture!
O courfin figure, refplendent with glory,
Geme of beaute'! o carbouncle thining pure!
Your fairnes excedeth the craft of Nature,
Moft womanli your lovely countinaunce,
Registir my love in your remembraunce.

What availeth, Sir, your proclamacion
Of curious talking, not touching sadnes?
It is but winde, flatering and adulacion,
Imefurable thought of worldy wildnes,
Whiche is chief caufe of goftly feblenes;

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Your wil, your thought, your double entendement, I wil beware of drede or I be fhent.

My witte, my thought, and myne entencion,

Is for to plese you, my lady foveraine,
And for your love throw many a region
I would be' exiled, fo ye wold not difdein
To have pity on me when I compleine,
In wele and wo to fuffre perturbaunce,
So that ye wol have me in remembraunce.
What is your wil plainly ye doe expresse
That maketh this curious fupplicacion ;
Sey on, Sir, on hertèly tendirneffe,
Beth wel advised of veine delectacion,
At beginning think on the terminacion ;
Paffe not your boundes, be not to negligente,
And er beware for dred or ye be fhente.

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Your behaving, beaute, and countinaunce,
Maketh me encline to do you revèrence,
Your lovely loking, glorious govirnaunce,
Oercometh my fpirites, my wit, and prudence,
Some drop of grace of your magnificence
Unto your fervaunt ye fhewe attendaunce,

And register my love in your

remembraunce.

O comberous thought of manne's fragilite!

O fervente wil of luftis furious!

O cruel corage caufinge adverfite!
Of women corrupcion, and contrarioufe,
Remembir man that chaunge is perilous,
To breke the' virginite of virgines innocente,
Wherfore beware mankinde or thou be fhent.
My peine is prevy' impoffible to' deferne,
My lamentabel thoughtes by casting mourninge,
O general juge Jefu! fitting fuperne,
Graciously converte the love of my fwete thing;
O' amiable lady, gracious and benigne!
I put me wholy in your govirnaunce,
Exile me not out of your remembraunce.

Me femeth by langage ye be some potestate,
Or els fom curious glofir difcevable;
What is your name mekely I make regrate,
Or of what science or craft commendable?
I'am a lady' excellente and honorable,
He must be gay that should be to' min entente,
Wherfore I wil be ware or I be fhent.

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Lorde God! this is a fharpe examinacion
Of her that is most in my memorie,
Unto you lady' I make certification,

My name' is Trew Love, of carnal defidery,
Of manne's copulacion the verye exemplary,
Which am one of your fervauntes of plefaunce,
I must be chefe callid to remembraunce.

I have fought true love of yeres gret proces,
Yet fond I nevir love but for a fefon;
Some men be diverse, know no gentilnes,
And fome lackin both wifdome and refon;
In fom men is truft, in fom men is trefon,
Wherfore I wil conclude by avyfemente,
And er beware for drede that I be fhente.
The retour Tullius, gay of eloquence,
And Ovide, that fheweth Craft of Love expres,
With habundaunce of Salomon's prudence,

And pulcritude of Absalon's fairenesse,
And I wer poffefs'd with Job's grete richeffe,
Manly' as Sampfone my perfone to avaunce,
Yet fhuid I fubmit me' in your remembraunce. 105
Now Sir, yf that it plefe your nobilneffe

To gyve advertence to my question,
What thingè is the plesure of fwetneffe,
And most bittir in final fucceffion?

Or what thing gevith man occafion
In tendir age to be concupifcent?

Refolve this question, or drede, Sir, ye' be hent. 112

My foveraigne lady', Ovide in his writinge
Saith defire of worldly concupifcence
As for a time is fwete in his worchinge,
And in his ende he caufith grete offence;
Notwithstandinge, my lady Dame Prudence,
Grene flowring age and manly countinaunce
Caufith ladies to have' it in remembraunce.

Your godely anfwir, so notable' in substaunce,
Wold cause the hert of womanhede converte
Unto delyte of natural plefaunce;

But of one thing I wold faine be experte,

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Why menne's langage wol procure and tranfverte The wil of women and virgines innocente,

Wherfore I am aferd or I be fhente.

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Let nevir the love of true love be lofed,

My foveraine lady, in no manir wife;

In your confidence my wordes I have closed,
My'amyable love to you I doe promise;
So that ye knit the knot of exercyfe
Both locke and key ye have in govirnaunce,
Emprint my love in your remembèraunce.

Of very truft and I were certified,
The plain entencion of your herte's cordial,
Me femeth in bliffe than were I glorified,
Unto your plefure I would be' at your call,
But er I fere of chauncis cafual,

Of fraude, difceipte, and langage insolente,
Then were I fure maidinhed should be fhent.

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