“I am a seed-fowl, one th’unworthiest,
That know I well, and the least of cunning;
But better is, that a wight’s tongue rest,
Than *entremette him of* such doing *meddle with* <41>
Of which he neither rede* can nor sing; *counsel
And who it doth, full foul himself accloyeth,* *embarrasseth
For office uncommanded oft annoyeth.”
Nature, which that alway had an ear
To murmur of the lewedness behind,
With facond* voice said, “Hold your tongues there, *eloquent, fluent
And I shall soon, I hope, a counsel find,
You to deliver, and from this noise unbind;
I charge of ev’ry flock* ye shall one call, *class of fowl
To say the verdict of you fowles all.”
The tercelet* said then in this mannere; *male hawk
“Full hard it were to prove it by reason,
Who loveth best this gentle formel here;
For ev’reach hath such replication,* *reply
That by skilles* may none be brought adown; *arguments
I cannot see that arguments avail;
Then seemeth it that there must be battaile.”
“All ready!” quoth those eagle tercels tho;* *then
“Nay, Sirs!” quoth he; “if that I durst it say,
Ye do me wrong, my tale is not y-do,* *done
For, Sirs, — and *take it not agrief,* I pray, — *be not offended*
It may not be as ye would, in this way:
Ours is the voice that have the charge in hand,
And *to the judges’ doom ye muste stand.* *ye must abide by the
judges’ decision*
“And therefore ‘Peace!’ I say; as to my wit,
Me woulde think, how that the worthiest
Of knighthood, and had longest used it,
Most of estate, of blood the gentilest,
Were fitting most for her, *if that her lest;* *if she pleased*
And, of these three she knows herself, I trow,* *am sure
Which that he be; for it is light* to know.” *easy
The water-fowles have their heades laid
Together, and *of short advisement,* *after brief deliberation*
When evereach his verdict had y-said
They saide soothly all by one assent,
How that “The goose with the *facond gent,* *refined eloquence*
That so desired to pronounce our need,* business
Shall tell our tale;” and prayed God her speed.
And for those water-fowles then began
The goose to speak. and in her cackeling
She saide, “Peace, now! take keep* ev’ry man, *heed
And hearken what reason I shall forth bring;
My wit is sharp, I love no tarrying;
I say I rede him, though he were my brother,
But* she will love him, let him love another!” *unless
“Lo! here a perfect reason of a goose!”
Quoth the sperhawke. “Never may she the!* *thrive
Lo such a thing ’tis t’have a tongue loose!
Now, pardie: fool, yet were it bet* for thee *better
Have held thy peace, than show’d thy nicety;* *foolishness
It lies not in his wit, nor in his will,
But sooth is said, a fool cannot be still.”
The laughter rose of gentle fowles all;
And right anon the seed-fowls chosen had
The turtle true, and gan her to them call,
And prayed her to say the *soothe sad* *serious truth*
Of this mattere, and asked what she rad;* *counselled
And she answer’d, that plainly her intent
She woulde show, and soothly what she meant.
“Nay! God forbid a lover shoulde change!”
The turtle said, and wax’d for shame all red:
“Though that his lady evermore be strange,* *disdainful
Yet let him serve her ay, till he be dead;
For, sooth, I praise not the goose’s rede* *counsel
For, though she died, I would none other make;* *mate
I will be hers till that the death me take.”
*“Well bourded!”* quoth the ducke, “by my hat! *a pretty joke!*
That men should loven alway causeless,
Who can a reason find, or wit, in that?
Danceth he merry, that is mirtheless?
Who shoulde *reck of that is reckeless?* *care for one who has
Yea! queke yet,” quoth the duck, “full well and fair! no care for him*
There be more starres, God wot, than a pair!” <42>