And with an hardy herte he gan to crie
Vengeaunce and justice of this felonye.
'My felawe mordred is this same night,
And in this carte he lith gapinge upright.
I crye out on the ministres,' quod he,
That schulde kepe and reule this cité;
Harrow! allas! her lith my felawe slayn!'
What scholde I more unto this tale sayn?

220

225

The peple upsterte, and caste the carte to grounde,
And in the middes of the dong thay founde
The dede man, that mordred was al newe:

230

'O blisful God, that art so just and trewe!
Lo, how that thow bywreyest mordre alway!
Mordre wil out, that se we day by day.
Mordre is so wlatsom and abhominable
To God, that is so just and resonable,
That he ne wol nought suffre it hiled be;
Though it abyde a yeer, or tuo, or thre,
Mordre wil out, this my conclusioun.

235

And right anoon, the mynistres of that toun
Han hent the cartere, and so sore him pyned,
And eek the hostiller so sore engyned,

240

That thay biknewe here wikkednes anoon,

And were anhonged by the nekke boon.

'Here may men sen that dremes ben to drede.
And certes, in the same book I rede,
Right in the nexte chapitre after this,
(I gabbe nought, so have I joye and blis,)
Tuo men that wolde han passed over see
For certeyn cause into a fer contré,
If that the wynd ne hadde ben contrarie,
That made hem in a cité for to tarie,
That stood ful mery upon an haven syde.

245

250

But on a day, agayn the even tyde,

The wynd gan chaunge, and blew right as hem leste.
Jolyf and glad they wente unto here reste,

And casten hem ful erly for to sayle;
But to that oon man fel a gret mervayle.
That oon of hem in slepyng as he lay,
Him mette a wonder drem, agayn the day;
Him thoughte a man stood by his beddes syde,
And him comaundede, that he schulde abyde,
And sayde him thus 'If thou to morwe wende,
Thow schalt be dreynt; my tale is at an ende.'
He wook, and tolde his felawe what he mette,
And prayde him his viage for to lette;
As for that day, he prayde him to abyde.

255

260

265

His felawe that lay by his beddes syde,

Gan for to lawghe, and scornede him ful faste.

6

No dreem,' quod he, may so myn herte agaste,

That I wil lette for to do my thinges.

I sette not a straw by thy dremynges,
For swevens been but vanitees and japes.
Men dreme al day of owles or of apes,

270

And eek of many a mase therwithal;

Men dreme of thing that nevere was ne schal.

But sith I see that thou wilt her abyde,

275

And thus forslouthe wilfully thy tyde,

God wot it reweth me, and have good day.'

And thus he took his leve, and wente his way.

But er that he hadde half his cours i-sayled,

Noot I nought why, ne what meschaunce it ayled, 280 But casuelly the schippes botme rente,

And schip and man under the water wente

In sight of othere schippes ther byside,
That with hem sailede at the same tyde.

And therfore, faire Pertelote so deere,

285

By suche ensamples olde maistow leere
That no man scholde be so recheles

Of dremes, for I say the douteles,

That many a dreem ful sore is for to drede.
Lo, in the lif of seint Kenelm, I rede,
That was Kenulphus sone, the noble king
Of Mercenrike, how Kenelm mette a thing.
A lite er he was mordred, on a day
His mordre in his avysioun he say.

290

His norice him expounede every del

295

His sweven, and bad him for to kepe him wel
For traisoun; but he nas but seven yer old,

And therfore litel tale hath he told

Of eny drem, so holy was his herte.

By God, I hadde levere than my scherte,
That ye hadde rad his legend, as have I.
Dame Pertelote, I saye yow trewely,
Macrobius, that writ the avisioun
In Auffrik of the worthy Cipioun,

300

Affermeth dremes, and saith that thay been
Warnyng of thinges that men after seen.

305

And forthermore, I pray yow loketh wel
In the olde Testament, of Daniel,

If he held dremes eny vanyte.

Red eek of Joseph, and ther schul ye see

310

Wher dremes ben som tyme (I say nought alle)

Warnyng of thinges that schul after falle.

Loke of Egipt the king, daun Pharao,
His bakere and his botiler also,

Wher thay ne felte noon effect in dremes.

315

Who so wol seke the actes of sondry remes,

May rede of dremes many a wonder thing.

Lo Cresus, which that was of Lyde king,
Mette he not that he sat upon a tre,
Which signifiede he schulde anhanged be?
Lo hire Andromacha Ectores wif,

That day that Ector schulde lese his lif,
Sche dremede on the same night byforn,
How that the lif of Ector schulde be lorn,

If thilke day he wente in to batayle;

320

325

Sche warnede him, but it mighte nought availe;
He wente for to fighte natheles,

And he was slayn anoon of Achilles.

But thilke is al to longe for to telle,

And eek it is neigh day, I may not duelle.

330

Schortly I saye, as for conclusioun,

That I schal have of this avisioun
Adversité; and I saye forthermore,
That I ne telle of laxatifs no store,

For thay ben venymous, I wot right wel;

335

I hem defye, I love hem nevere a del.

'Now let us speke of mirthe, and stynte al this;

Madame Pertelote, so have I blis,

Of o thing God hath sent me large grace;

For whan I see the beauté of your face,

340

Fe ben so scarlet reed aboute your eyghen,
It maketh al my drede for to deyghen,
For, also siker as In principio,

Mulier est hominis confusio.

(Madame, the sentence of this Latyn is, Womman is mannes joye and al his blis.)

345

I am so ful of joye and of solas

That I defye bothe sweven and drem.'

-350

And with that word he fleigh doun fro the beem,
For it was day, and eek his hennes alle;
And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle,
For he hadde founde a corn, lay in the yerd.
Real he was, he was nomore aferd;

He loketh as it were a grim lioun;

355

And on his toon he rometh up and doun,

Him deyneth not to sette his foot to grounde.
He chukketh, whan he hath a corn i-founde,
And to him rennen than his wifes alle.
Thus real, as a prince is in his halle,
Leve I this chaunteclere in his pasture;

360

And after wol I telle his aventure.

365

Whan that the moneth in which the world bigan,

That highte March, whan God first made man,

Was complet, and y-passed were also,

Syn March bygan, thritty dayes and tuo,
Byfel that Chaunteclere in al his pride,
His seven wyves walkyng him by syde,
Caste up his eyghen to the brighte sonne,
That in the signe of Taurus hadde i-ronne
Twenty degrees and oon, and somwhat more;
He knew by kynde, and by noon other lore,
That it was prime, and crew with blisful stevene.
'The sonne,' he sayde, 'is clomben up on hevene
Twenty degrees and oon, and more i-wis.

370

375