[This text] includes characters that require UTF-8 (Unicode) file encoding:
œ (“oe” ligature)
ȝ Ȝ (yogh)
ħ ũ (h with bar, u with tilde: both rare)
The Sidenotes include a few Greek phrases:
ἕπου Θεῷ
If any of these characters do not display properly—in particular, if the diacritic does not appear directly above the letter—or if the apostrophes and quotation marks in this paragraph appear as garbage, you may have an incompatible browser or unavailable fonts. First, make sure that the browser’s “character set” or “file encoding” is set to Unicode (UTF-8). You may also need to change your browser’s default font.
Linenotes refer to the Cambridge MS.; see [end of Introduction]. “H.” in the Linenotes is not explained; Skeat’s edition of Chaucer’s Complete Works says that it refers to MS. Harley 2421.
In the printed book, line numbers were squeezed in wherever there was room. For the e-text, they have been regularized to the EETS-standard multiples of 4. Line divisions and page numbers were retained for use with the Index and linenotes, except that some very short words have been moved up or down to avoid awkward gaps. Headnotes have been moved to the nearest convenient line break.
Italic thorn (þ) and yogh (ȝ) seem to have been unavailable to the printer; both letters have been formatted to match the surrounding text. In the Appendix, decorative final letters are shown with ) or + as sprong+, dar) and similar to approximate the look of the original. The inverted semicolon (rare) is shown as ;.
In the primary text, anomalous spellings with initial “u” or non-initial “v” are not individually noted. Other errors, whether corrected or not, are shown in the text with mouse-hover popups.
For this e-text, Chaucer’s translation of the Consolatio is given twice: first as printed, with all notes and apparatus, and then as text alone.
[Introduction]
[Index of First Lines]
[Tabula Libri Boicii] (”Table of Contents”)
[Chaucer’s Translation] (with all notes)
[Appendix] (verse)
[Translation] (text only)
[Glossarial Index]
EARLY ENGLISH TEXT SOCIETY
Extra Series, No. 5
1868
(Reprinted 1889, 1894, 1895, etc., 1969)
Price 40s.
EDITED FROM
BRITISH MUSEUM ADDITIONAL MS. 10,340
COLLATED WITH
CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY MS. Ii.3.21
BY
RICHARD MORRIS
Published for
THE EARLY ENGLISH TEXT SOCIETY
by the
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO
FIRST PUBLISHED 1868
REPRINTED 1889, 1894, 1895, ETC.,
AND 1969
Extra Series, No. 5
ORIGINALLY PRINTED BY
RICHARD CLAY & SONS LTD., LONDON AND BUNGAY
AND NOW REPRINTED LITHOGRAPHICALLY IN GREAT BRITAIN
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, OXFORD
BY VIVIAN RIDLER
PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY
[INTRODUCTION.]
When master hands like those of Gibbon and Hallam have sketched the life of Boethius, it is well that no meaner man should attempt to mar their pictures. They drew, perhaps, the most touching scene in Middle-age literary history,—the just man in prison, awaiting death, consoled by the Philosophy that had been his light in life, and handing down to posterity for their comfort and strength the presence of her whose silver rays had been his guide as well under the stars of Fortune as the mirk of Fate. With Milton in his dark days, Boece in prison could say,—
‘I argue not
Against Heaven’s hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer
Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?
The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied
In liberty’s defence, my noble task,
Of which all Europe rings from side to side.’
For, indeed, the echoes of Boethius, Boethius, rang out loud from every corner of European Literature. An Alfred awoke them in England, a Chaucer, a Caxton would not let them die; an Elizabeth revived them among the glorious music of her reign.[1] To us, though far off, they come with a sweet sound. ‘The angelic’ Thomas Aquinas commented on him, and many others followed the saint’s steps. Dante read him, though, strange to say, he speaks of the Consolation as ‘a book not known by many.’[2] Belgium had her translations—both Flemish[3] and French[4]; Germany hers,[5] France hers,[6] Italy hers.[7] The Latin editors are too numerous to be catalogued here, and manuscripts abound in all our great libraries.
No philosopher was so bone of the bone and flesh of the flesh of Middle-age writers as Boethius. Take up what writer you will, and you find not only the sentiments, but the very words of the distinguished old Roman. And surely we who read him in Chaucer’s tongue, will not refuse to say that his full-circling meed of glory was other than deserved. Nor can we marvel that at the end of our great poet’s life, he was glad that he had swelled the chorus of Boethius’ praise; and ‘of the translacioun of Boece de Consolacioun,’ thanked ‘oure Lord Ihesu Crist and his moder, and alle the seintes in heuen.’
The impression made by Boethius on Chaucer was evidently very deep. Not only did he translate him directly, as in the present work, but he read his beloved original over and over again, as witness the following list, incomplete of course, of passages from Chaucer’s poems translated more or less literally from the De Consolatione:
I. LOVE.
Wost thou nat wel the olde clerkes sawe,
That who schal yeve a lover eny lawe,
Love is a grettere lawe, by my pan,
Then may be yeve to (of) eny erthly man?
(Knightes Tale, Aldine Series, vol. ii. p. 36, 37.)
But what is he þat may ȝeue a lawe to loueres. loue is a gretter lawe and a strengere to hym self þan any lawe þat men may ȝeuen.
(Chaucer’s Prose Translation, [p. 108].)
Quis legem det amantibus?
Major lex amor est sibi.
(Boeth., lib. iii. met. 12.)
II. A DRUNKEN MAN.
A dronke man wot wel he hath an hous,
But he not[8] which the righte wey is thider.
(Knightes Tale, vol. ii. p. 39.)
Ryȝt as a dronke man not nat[9] by whiche paþe he may retourne home to hys house.
(Chaucer’s Trans., [p. 67].)
Sed velut ebrius, domum quo tramite revertatur, ignorat.
(Boeth., lib. iii. pr. 2.)
III. THE CHAIN OF LOVE.
The firste moevere of the cause above,
Whan he first made the fayre cheyne of love,
Gret was theffect, and heigh was his entente;
Wel wist he why, and what therof he mente;
For with that faire cheyne of love he bond
The fyr, the watir, the eyr, and eek the lond
In certeyn boundes, that they may not flee.
(Knightes Tale, p. 92.)
That þe world with stable feith / varieth acordable chaungynges // þat the contraryos qualite of elementȝ holden amonge hem self aliaunce perdurable / þat phebus the sonne with his goldene chariet / bryngeth forth the rosene day / þat the mone hath commaundement ouer the nyhtes // whiche nyhtes hesperus the eue sterre hat[h] browt // þat þe se gredy to flowen constreyneth with a certeyn ende hise floodes / so þat it is nat l[e]ueful to strechche hise brode termes or bowndes vp-on the erthes // þat is to seyn to couere alle the erthe // Al this a-cordaunce of thinges is bownden with looue / þat gouerneth erthe and see / and [he] hath also commaundementȝ to the heuenes / and yif this looue slakede the brydelis / alle thinges þat now louen hem to-gederes / wolden maken a batayle contynuely and stryuen to fordoon the fasoun of this worlde / the which they now leden in acordable feith by fayre moeuynges // this looue halt to-gideres poeples / ioygned with an hooly bond / and knytteth sacrement of maryages of chaste looues // And loue enditeth lawes to trewe felawes // O weleful weere mankynde / yif thilke loue þat gouerneth heuene gouerned yowre corages /.
(Chaucer’s Boethius, bk. ii. met. 8.)
Quod mundus stabili fide
Concordes variat vices,
Quod pugnantia semina
Fœdus perpetuum tenent,
Quod Phœbus roseum diem
Curru provehit aureo,
Ut quas duxerit Hesperus
Phœbe noctibus imperet,
Ut fluctus avidum mare
Certo fine coerceat,
Ne terris liceat vagis
Latos tundere terminos;
Hanc rerum seriem ligat,
Terras ac pelagus regens,
Et cœlo imperitans amor.
Hic si fræna remiserit,
Quicquid nunc amat invicem,
Bellum continuo geret:
Et quam nunc socia fide
Pulcris motibus incitant,
Certent solvere machinam.
Hic sancto populos quoque
Junctos fœdere continet,
Hic et conjugii sacrum
Castis nectit amoribus,
Hic fidis etiam sua
Dictat jura sodalibus.
O felix hominum genus,
Si vestros animos amor,
Quo cælum regitur, regat.
(Boeth., lib. ii. met. 8.)
Love, that of erth and se hath governaunce!
Love, that his hestes hath in hevene hye!
Love, that with an holsom alliaunce
Halt peples joyned, as hym liste hem gye!
Love, that knetteth law and compaignye,
And couples doth in vertu for to dwelle!
(Troylus & Cryseyde, st. 243, vol. iv. p. 296.)
That, that the world with faith, which that is stable
Dyverseth so, his stoundes concordynge;—
That elementz, that ben so discordable,
Holden a bond, perpetualy durynge;—
That Phebus mot his rosy carte forth brynge,
And that the mone hath lordschip overe the nyghte;—
Al this doth Love, ay heryed be his myght!
That, that the se, that gredy is to flowen,
Constreyneth to a certeyn ende so
Hise flodes, that so fiersly they ne growen
To drenchen erth and alle for everemo;
And if that Love aught lete his brydel go,
Al that now loveth asonder sholde lepe,
And lost were al that Love halt now to kepe.
(Ibid. st. 244, 245.)
IV. MUTABILITY DIRECTED AND LIMITED
BY AN IMMUTABLE AND DIVINE INTELLIGENCE.
That same prynce and moevere eek, quod he,
Hath stabled, in this wrecched world adoun,
Certeyn dayes and duracioun
To alle that er engendrid in this place,
Over the whiche day they may nat pace,
Al mowe they yit wel here dayes abregge;
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Than may men wel by this ordre discerne
That thilke moevere stabul is and eterne.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
And therfore of his wyse purveaunce
He hath so wel biset his ordenaunce,
That spices of thinges and progressiouns
Schullen endure by successiouns
And nat eterne be, withoute any lye.
(Knightes Tale, vol. ii. p. 92, 93.)
Þe engendrynge of alle þinges quod she and alle þe progressiouns of muuable nature. and alle þat moeueþ in any manere takiþ hys causes. hys ordre. and hys formes. of þe stablenesse of þe deuyne þouȝt [and thilke deuyne thowht] þat is yset and put in þe toure. þat is to seyne in þe heyȝt of þe simplicite of god. stablisiþ many manere gyses to þinges þat ben to don.
(Chaucer’s Boethius, bk. iv. pr. 6, [p. 134].)
V. THE PART IS DERIVED FROM THE WHOLE,
THE IMPERFECT FROM THE PERFECT.
Wel may men knowe, but it be a fool,
That every partye dyryveth from his hool.
For nature hath nat take his bygynnyng
Of no partye ne cantel of a thing,
But of a thing that parfyt is and stable,
Descendyng so, til it be corumpable.
(Knightes Tale, vol. ii. p. 92.)
For al þing þat is cleped inperfit . is proued inperfit by þe amenusynge of perfeccioun . or of þing þat is perfit . and her-of comeþ it . þat in euery þing general . yif þat . þat men seen any þing þat is inperfit . certys in þilke general þer mot ben somme þing þat is perfit. For yif so be þat perfeccioun is don awey . men may nat þinke nor seye fro whennes þilke þing is þat is cleped inperfit . For þe nature of þinges ne token nat her bygynnyng of þinges amenused and inperfit . but it procediþ of þingus þat ben al hool . and absolut . and descendeþ so doune in-to outerest þinges and in-to þingus empty and wiþ-oute fruyt . but as I haue shewed a litel her byforne . þat yif þer be a blisfulnesse þat be frele and vein and inperfit . þer may no man doute . þat þer nys som blisfulnesse þat is sad stedfast and perfit.’
(bk. iii. pr. 10, [p. 89].)
Omne enim quod imperfectum esse dicitur, id deminutione perfecti imperfectum esse perhibetur. Quo fit ut si in quolibet genere imperfectum quid esse videatur, in eo perfectum quoque aliquod esse necesse sit. Etenim perfectione sublata, unde illud, quod imperfectum perhibetur, extiterit, ne fingi quidem potest. Neque enim ab diminutis inconsummatisque natura rerum cepit exordium, sed ab integris absolutisque procedens in hæc extrema atque effœta dilabitur. Quod si, uti paulo ante monstravimus, est quædam boni fragilis imperfecta felicitas, esse aliquam solidam perfectamque non potest dubitari.
(Boeth., lib. iii. pr. 10.)
VI. GENTILITY.
For gentilnesse nys but renomé
Of thin auncestres, for her heigh bounté
Which is a straunge thing to thy persone.
(The Wyf of Bathes Tale, vol. ii. p. 241.)
For if þe name of gentilesse be referred to renoun and clernesse of linage. þan is gentil name but a foreine þing.
(Chaucer’s Boethius, [p. 78].)
Quæ [nobilitas], si ad claritudinem refertur, aliena est.
(Boethius, lib. iii. pr. 6.)
VII. NERO’S CRUELTY.
No teer out of his eyen for that sighte
Ne cam; but sayde, a fair womman was sche.
Gret wonder is how that he couthe or mighte
Be domesman on hir dede beauté.
(The Monkes Tale, vol. iii. p. 217.)
Ne no tere ne wette his face, but he was so hard-herted þat he myȝte ben domesman or iuge of hire dede beauté.
(Chaucer’s Boethius, [p. 55].)
Ora non tinxit lacrymis, sed esse
Censor extincti potuit decoris.
(Boethius, lib. ii. met. 6.)
VIII. PREDESTINATION AND FREE-WILL.
In ‘Troylus and Cryseyde’ we find the following long passage taken from Boethius, book v. prose 2, 3.
Book iv. st. 134, vol. iv. p. 339.
(1)
Syn God seth every thynge, out of doutaunce,
And hem disponeth, thorugh his ordinaunce,
In hire merites sothely for to be,
As they shul comen by predesteyné
136
(2)
For som men seyn if God seth al byforne,
Ne God may not deseyved ben pardé!
Than moot it fallen, theigh men hadde it sworne,
That purveyaunce hath seyn befor to be,
Wherfor I seye, that, from eterne, if he
Hathe wiste byforn our thought ek as oure dede,
We have no fre choys, as thise clerkes rede.
137
(3)
For other thoughte, nor other dede also,
Myghte nevere ben, but swich as purveyaunce,
Which may nat ben deceyved nevere moo,
Hath feled byforne, withouten ignoraunce;
For if ther myghte ben a variaunce,
To wrythen out fro Goddes purveyinge,
Ther nere no prescience of thynge comynge;
138
(4)
But it were rather an opinyon
Uncertein, and no stedfast forseynge;
And certes that were an abusyon
That God shold han no parfit clere wetynge,
More than we men, that han douteous wenynge,
But swich an erroure upon God to gesse
Were fals, and foule, and wikked corsednesse.
139
(5)
They seyn right thus, that thynge is nat to come,
For that the prescience hath seyne byfore
That it shal come; but they seyn that therfore
That it shal come, therfor the purveyaunce
Woot it bifore, withouten ignorance.
140
(6)
And in this manere this necessité
Retourneth in his part contrarye agayn;
For nedfully byhoveth it not to be,
That thilke thynges fallen in certeyn
That ben purveyed; but nedly, as they seyne,
Bihoveth it that thynges, which that falle,
That thei in certein ben purveied alle.
141
(7)
I mene as though I labourede me in this,
To enqueren which thynge cause of whiche thynge be;
(8)
As, whether that the prescience of God is
The certein cause of the necessité
Of thynges that to comen ben, pardé!
Or, if necessité of thynge comynge
Be cause certein of the purveyinge.
142
(9)
But now nenforce I me nat in shewynge
How the ordre of causes stant; but wel woot I
That it bihoveth that the bifallynge
Of thynges, wiste bifor certeinly,
Be necessarie, al seme it nat therby
That prescience put fallynge necessaire
To thynge to come, al falle it foule or faire.
143
(10)
For, if ther sit a man yonde on a see, [seat]
Than by necessité bihoveth it,
That certes thyn opinioun soth be,
That wenest or conjectest that he sit;
And, further over, now ayeinwarde yit,
Lo right so is it on the part contrarie,
As thus,—nowe herkene, for I wol nat tarie:—
144
(11)
I sey, that if the opinion of the
Be soth for that he sit, than seye I this,
That he moot sitten by necessité;
And thus necessité in either is,
For in hym nede of sittynge is, ywis,
And in the, nede of soth; and thus forsoth
Ther mot necessité ben in yow bothe.
145
(12)
But thow maist seyne, the man sit nat therfore,
That thyn opinioun of his sittynge sothe is;
But rather, for the man sat there byfore,
Therfor is thyn opinioun soth, ywys;
And I seye, though the cause of soth of this
Cometh of his sittynge, yet necessité
Is interchaunged both in hym and the.
146
(13)
Thus in the same wyse, out of doutaunce,
I may wel maken, as it semeth me,
My resonynge of Goddes purveiaunce,
And of the thynges that to comen be; . . .
147
(14)
For although that for thynge shal come, ywys,
Therfor it is purveyed certeynly,
Nat that it cometh for it purveied is;
Yet, natheles, bihoveth it nedfully,
That thynge to come be purveied trewly;
Or elles thynges that purveied be.
That they bitiden by necessité.
148
(15)
And this sufficeth right ynough, certeyn,
For to distruye oure fre choys everydele.
(1) Quæ tamen ille ab æterno cuncta prospiciens providentiæ cernit intuitus, et suis quæque meritis prædestinata disponit. . . . . (Boethius, lib. v. pr. 2.) . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
(2) Nam si cuncta prospicit Deus neque falli ullo modo potest, evenire necesse est, quod providentia futurum esse præviderit. Quare si ab æterno non facta hominum modo, sed etiam consilia voluntatesque prænoscit, nulla erit arbitrii libertas;
(3) Neque enim vel factum aliud ullum vel quælibet existere poterit voluntas, nisi quam nescia falli providentia divina præsenserit. Nam si res aliorsum, quam provisæ sunt detorqueri valent, non jam erit futuri firma præscientia;
(4) Sed opinio potius incerta; quod de Deo nefas credere judico.
(5) Aiunt enim non ideo quid esse eventurum quoniam id providentia futurum esse prospexerit; sed e contrario potius, quoniam quid futurum est, id divinam providentiam latere non possit.
(6) Eoque modo necessarium est hoc in contrariam relabi partem; neque enim necesse est contingere quæ providentur, sed necesse est quæ futura sunt provideri.
(7) Quasi vero quæ cujusque rei causa sit,
(8) Præscientiane futurorum necessitatis an futurorum necessitas providentiæ, laboretur.
(9) At nos illud demonstrare nitamur, quoquo modo sese habeat ordo causarum, necessarium esse eventum præscitarum rerum, etiam si præscientia futuris rebus eveniendi necessitatem non videatur inferre.
(10) Etenim si quispiam sedeat, opinionem quæ eum sedere conjectat veram esse necesse est: at e converso rursus,
(11) Si de quopiam vera sit opinio quoniam sedet eum sedere necesse est. In utroque igitur necessitas inest: in hoc quidem sedendi, at vero in altero veritatis.
(12) Sed non idcirco quisque sedet, quoniam vera est opinio: sed hæc potius vera est, quoniam quempiam sedere præcessit. Ita cum causa veritatis ex altera parte procedat, inest tamen communis in utraque necessitas.
(13) Similia de providentia futurisque rebus ratiocinari patet.
(14) Nam etiam si idcirco, quoniam futura sunt, providentur: non vero ideo, quoniam providentur, eveniunt: nihilo minus tamen a Deo vel ventura provideri, vel provisa evenire necesse est:
(15) Quod ad perimendam arbitrii libertatem solum satis est.
(lib. v. pr. 3.)
See Chaucer’s Boethius, [pp. 154-6].
IX. THE GRIEF OF REMEMBERING BYGONE HAPPINESS.
For, of fortunes scharp adversité,
The worste kynde of infortune is this,
A man to han ben in prosperité,
And it remembren, when it passed is.
(Troylus and Cryseyde, bk. iii. st. 226, vol. iv. p. 291.)
Sed hoc est, quod recolentem me vehementius coquit. Nam in omni adversitate fortunæ infelicissimum genus est infortunii, fuisse felicem.[10]
(Boethius, lib. ii. pr. 4.)
X. VULTURES TEAR THE STOMACH OF TITYUS IN HELL.
————Syciphus in Helle,
Whos stomak fowles tyren everemo,
That hyghten volturis.
(Troylus and Cryseyde, book i. st. 113, p. 140.)
Þe fowel þat hyȝt voltor þat etiþ þe stomak or þe giser of ticius.
(Chaucer’s Boethius, [p. 107].)
XI. THE MUTABILITY OF FORTUNE.
For if hire (Fortune’s) whiel stynte any thinge to torne
Thanne cessed she Fortune anon to be.
(Troylus and Cryseyde, bk. i. st. 122, p. 142.)
If fortune bygan to dwelle stable. she cesed[e] þan to ben fortune.
(Chaucer’s Boethius, [p. 32].)
(Compare stanzas 120, 121, p. 142, and stanza 136, p. 146, of ‘Troylus and Cryseyde’ with pp. 31, 33, 35, and p. 34 of Chaucer’s Boethius.)
At omnium mortalium stolidissime, si manere incipit, fors esse desistit.
(Boethius, lib. ii. prose 1.)
XII. WORLDLY SELYNESSE
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Imedled is with many a bitternesse.
Ful angwyshous than is, God woote, quod she,
Condicion of veyn prosperité!
For oyther joies comen nought yfeere,
Or elles no wight hath hem alwey here.
(Troylus and Cryseyde, bk. iii. st. 110, p. 258.)
Þe swetnesse of mannes welefulnesse is yspranid wiþ many[e] bitternesses.
(Chaucer’s Boethius, [p. 42].)
—ful anguissous þing is þe condicioun of mans goodes. For eyþer it comeþ al to-gidre to a wyȝt. or ellys it lasteþ not perpetuely.
(Ib. [p. 41].)
Quam multis amaritudinibus humanæ felicitatis dulcedo respersa est!
(Boethius, lib. ii. prose 4.)
Anxia enim res est humanorum conditio bonorum, et quæ vel nunquam tota proveniat, vel nunquam perpetua subsistat.
(Ib.)
O, brotel wele of mannes joie unstable!
With what wight so thow be, or how thow pleye,
Oither he woot that thow joie art muable,
Or woot it nought, it mot ben on of tweyen:
Now if he woot it not, how may he seyen
That he hath veray joie and selynesse,
That is of ignoraunce ay in distresse?
Now if he woote that joie is transitorie,
As every joie of worldly thynge mot fle,
Thanne every tyme he that hath in memorie,
The drede of lesyng maketh hym that he
May in no parfyte selynesse be:
And if to lese his joie, he sette not a myte,
Than semeth it, that joie is worth ful lite.
(Troylus and Cryseyde, bk. iii. st. 111, 112, vol. iv. p. 258.)
(1) What man þat þis toumblyng welefulnesse leediþ, eiþer he woot þat [it] is chaungeable. or ellis he woot it nat. And yif he woot it not. what blisful fortune may þer be in þe blyndenesse of ignoraunce.
(2) And yif he woot þat it is chaungeable. he mot alwey ben adrad þat he ne lese þat þing. þat he ne douteþ nat but þat he may leesen it. . . . . For whiche þe continuel drede þat he haþ ne suffriþ hym nat to ben weleful. Or ellys yif he leese it he wene[þ] to be dispised and forleten hit. Certis eke þat is a ful lytel goode þat is born wiþ euene hert[e] whan it is loost.
(Chaucer’s Boethius, [pp. 43, 44].)
(1) Quem caduca ista felicitas vehit, vel scit eam, vel nescit esse mutabilem. Si nescit, quænam beata sors esse potest ignorantiæ in cæcitate?
(2) Si scit, metuat necesse est, ne amittat, quod amitti posse non dubitat; quare continuus timor non sinit esse felicem. An vel si amiserit, negligendum putat? Sic quoque perexile bonum est, quod æquo animo feratur amissum.
(Boethius, lib. ii. prose 4.)
XIII. FORTUNE.
————Fortune
That semeth trewest when she wol bigyle,
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
And, when a wight is from hire whiel ithrowe,
Than laugheth she, and maketh hym the mowe.
(Troylus and Cryseyde, bk. iii. st. 254, vol. iv. p. 299.)
She (Fortune) vseþ ful flatryng familarité wiþ hem þat she enforceþ to bygyle.
(Chaucer’s Boethius, [p. 30].)
. . . . . . . She lauȝeþ and scorneþ þe wepyng of hem þe whiche she haþ maked wepe wiþ hir free wille . . . . . . . Yif þat a wyȝt is seyn weleful and ouerþrowe in an houre.
(Ib. [p. 33].)
In book v., stanza 260, vol. v. p. 75, Chaucer describes how the soul of Hector, after his death, ascended ‘up to the holughnesse of the seventhe spere.’ In so doing he seems to have had before him met. 1, book 4, of Boethius, where the ‘soul’ is described as passing into the heaven’s utmost sphere, and looking down on the world below. See Chaucer’s Boethius, [p. 110, 111].
Ætas Prima is of course a metrical version of lib. ii. met. 5.
Hampole speaks of the wonderful sight of the Lynx; perhaps he was indebted to Boethius for the hint.—(See Boethius, book 3, pr. 8, [p. 81].)
I have seen the following elsewhere:
(1) Value not beauty, for it may be destroyed by a three days’ fever.
(See Chaucer’s Boethius, [p. 81].)
(2) There is no greater plague than the enmity of thy familiar friend.
(See Chaucer’s translation, [p. 77].)
Chaucer did not English Boethius second-hand, through any early French version, as some have supposed, but made his translation with the Latin original before him.
Jean de Méung’s version, the only early French translation, perhaps, accessible to Chaucer, is not always literal, while the present translation is seldom free or periphrastic, but conforms closely to the Latin, and is at times awkwardly literal. A few passages, taken haphazard, will make this sufficiently clear.
Et dolor ætatem jussit inesse suam. And sorou haþ comaunded his age to be in me ([p. 4]).
Et ma douleur commanda a vieillesse
Entrer en moy / ains quen fust hors ieunesse.
Mors hominum felix, quæ se nec dulcibus annis
Inserit, et mæstis sæpe vocata venit.
Þilke deeþ of men is welful þat ne comeþ not in ȝeres þat ben swete (i. mirie). but comeþ to wrecches often yclepid. ([p. 4])
On dit la mort des homes estre eureuse
Qui ne vient pas en saison plantureuse
Mais des tristes moult souuent appellee
Elle y affuit nue / seche et pelee.
Querimoniam lacrymabilem. Wepli compleynte ([p. 5]). Fr. ma complainte moy esmouuant a pleurs.
Styli officio. Wiþ office of poyntel ([p. 5]). Fr. (que ie reduisse) par escript.
Inexhaustus. Swiche . . . þat it ne myȝt[e] not be emptid ([p. 5]). Fr. inconsumptible.
Scenicas meretriculas. Comune strumpetis of siche a place þat men clepen þe theatre ([p. 6]). Fr. ces ribaudelles fardees.
Præcipiti profundo. In ouer-þrowyng depnesse ([p. 7]).
[L]As que la pensee de lomme
Est troublee et plongie comme
En abisme precipitee
Sa propre lumiere gastee.
Nec pervetusta nec incelebris. Neyþer ouer-oolde ne vnsolempne ([p. 11]). Fr. desquelz la memoire nest pas trop ancienne ou non recitee.
Inter secreta otia. Among my secre restyng whiles ([p. 14]). Fr. entre mes secrettes et oyseuses estudes.
Palatini canes. Þe houndys of þe palays ([p. 15]). Fr. les chiens du palais.
Masculæ prolis. Of þi masculyn children ([p. 37]). Fr. de ta lignie masculine.
Ad singularem felicitatis tuæ cumulum venire delectat. It deliteþ me to comen now to þe singuler vphepyng of þi welefulnesse ([p. 37]). Fr. Il me plait venir au singulier monceau de ta felicite.
Consulare imperium. Emperie of consulers ([p. 51]). Fr. lempire consulaire.
Hoc ipsum brevis habitaculi. Of þilke litel habitacle ([p. 57]). Fr. de cest trespetit habitacle.
Late patentes plagas. Þe brode shewyng contreys ([p. 60]).
QViconques tend a gloire vaine
Et le croit estre souueraine
Voye les regions patentes
Du ciel . . . . . .
Ludens hominum cura. Þe pleiyng besines of men ([p. 68]).
Si quil tollist par doulz estude
Des hommes la solicitude . .
Hausi cœlum. I took heuene ([p. 10]). Fr. ie . . . regarday le ciel.
Certamen adversum præfectum prætorii communis commodi ratione suscepi. I took strif aȝeins þe prouost of þe pretorie for comune profit ([p. 15]). Fr. ie entrepris lestrif a lencontre du prefect du parlement royal a cause de la commune vtilite.
At cujus criminis arguimur summam quæris? But axest þou in somme of what gilt I am accused? ([p. 17]). Fr. Mais demandes tu la somme du pechie duquel pechie nous sommes arguez?
Fortuita temeritate. By fortunouse fortune ([p. 26]). Fr. par fortuite folie.
Quos premunt septem gelidi triones. Alle þe peoples þat ben vndir þe colde sterres þat hyȝten þe seuene triones ([p. 55]). Fr. ceulx de septentrion.
Ita ego quoque tibi veluti corollarium dabo. Ryȝt so wil I ȝeue þe here as a corolarie or a mede of coroune ([p. 91]). Fr. semblablement ie te donneray ainsi que vng correlaire.
In stadio. In þe stadie or in þe forlonge ([p. 119]). Fr. ou (for au) champ.
Conjecto. I coniecte ([p. 154]). Fr. ie coniecture.
Nimium . . . adversari ac repugnare videtur. It semeþ . . . to repugnen and to contrarien gretly. Fr. Ce semble chose trop contraire et repugnante.
Universitatis ambitum. Envirounynge of þe vniuersite ([p. 165]). Fr. lauironnement de luniuersalite.
Rationis universum. Vniuersite of resoun ([p. 165]). Fr. luniuersalite de Raison.
Scientiam nunquam deficientis instantiæ rectius æstimabis. Þou shalt demen [it] more ryȝtfully þat it is science of presence or of instaunce þat neuer ne fayleþ ([p. 174]). Fr. mais tu la diras plus droittement et mieulx science de instante presentialite non iamais defaillant mais eternelle.
Many of the above examples are very bald renderings of the original, and are only quoted here to show that Chaucer did not make his translation from the French.
Chaucer is not always felicitous in his translations:—thus he translates clavus atque gubernaculum by keye and a stiere ([p. 103]), and compendium (gain, acquisition) by abreggynge (abridging, curtailment), [p. 151]. Many terms make their appearance in English for the first time,—and most of them have become naturalized, and are such as we could ill spare. Some few are rather uncommon, as gouernaile (gubernaculum), [p. 27]; arbitre (arbitrium), [p. 154]. As Chaucer takes the trouble to explain inestimable (inæstimabilis), [p. 158], it could not have been a very familiar term.
Our translator evidently took note of various readings, for on [p. 31] he notes a variation of the original. On [p. 51] he uses armurers (= armures) to render arma, though most copies agree in reading arva.
There are numerous glosses and explanations of particular passages, which seem to be interpolated by Chaucer himself. Thus he explains what is meant by the heritage of Socrates ([p. 10, 11]); he gives the meaning of coemption ([p. 15]); of Euripus ([p. 33]); of the porch ([p. 166]).[11] Some of his definitions are very quaint; as, for instance, that of Tragedy—‘a dité of a prosperité for a tyme þat endiþ in wrechednesse’ ([p. 35]). One would think that the following definition of Tragedian would be rather superfluous after this,—‘a maker of dites þat hyȝten (are called) tregedies’ ([p. 77]).
Melliflui . . . oris Homerus
is thus quaintly Englished: Homer wiþ þe hony mouþe, þat is to seyn. homer wiþ þe swete dites ([p. 153]).
The present translation of the De Consolatione is taken from Additional MS. 10,340, which is supposed to be the oldest manuscript that exists in our public libraries. After it was all copied out and ready for press, Mr Bradshaw was kind enough to procure me, for the purpose of collation, the loan of the Camb. University MS. Ii. 3. 21, from which the various readings at the foot of the pages are taken.
Had I had an opportunity of examining the Cambridge MS. carefully throughout before the work was so far advanced, I should certainly have selected it in preference to the text now given to the reader. Though not so ancient as the British Museum MS., it is far more correct in its grammatical inflexions, and is no doubt a copy of an older and very accurate text.
The Additional MS. is written by a scribe who was unacquainted with the force of the final -e. Thus he adds it to the preterites of strong verbs, which do not require it; he omits it in the preterites of weak verbs where it is wanted, and attaches it to passive participles (of weak verbs), where it is superfluous. The scribe of the Cambridge MS. is careful to preserve the final -e where it is a sign (1) of the definite declension of the adjective; (2) of the plural adjective; (3) of the infinitive mood; (4) of the preterite of weak verbs; (5) of present participles;[12] (6) of the 2nd pers. pret. indic. of strong verbs; (7) of adverbs; (8) of an older vowel ending.
The Addit. MS. has frequently thilk (singular and plural), and -nes (in wrechednes, &c.), when the Camb. MS. has thilke[13] and -nesse.
For further differences the reader may consult the numerous collations at the foot of the page.
If the Chaucer Society obtains that amount of patronage from the literary public which it deserves, but unfortunately has yet not succeeded in getting, so that it may be enabled to go on with the great work which has been so successfully commenced, then the time may come when I shall have the opportunity of editing the Camb. MS. of Chaucer’s Boethius for that Society, and lovers of Early English Literature will have two texts instead of one.
[1] Other translations are by John Walton of Osney, in verse, in 1410 (Reg. MS. 18, A 13), first printed at Tavistock in 1525, and to be edited some time or other for the E.E.T.S. An anonymous prose version in the Bodleian. George Coluile, alias Coldewel, 1556; J. T. 1609; H. Conningesbye, 1664; Lord Preston, 1695, 1712; W. Causton, 1730; Redpath, 1785; R. Duncan, 1789; anon. 1792 (Lowndes).
[2] Dante, in his Convito, says, “Misimi a legger quello non conosciuto da molti libro di Boezio, nel quale captivo e discacciato consolato s’avea.”
[3] Printed at Ghent, 1485.
[4] By Reynier de Seinct Trudon, printed at Bruges, 1477.
[5] An old version of the 11th cent., printed by Graff, and a modern one printed at Nuremberg, 1473.
[6] By Jean de Méung, printed at Paris, 1494.
[7] By Varchi, printed at Florence, 1551; Parma, 1798.
[8] The Harl. MS. reads not nat, to the confusion of the metre.
[9] = ne wot nat = knows not.
[10] Cf. Dante, Inferno, V. 121.
Nessun maggior dolore
Che recordarsi del tempo felice
Nella miseria; e ciò sa ’l tuo Dottore.
[11] See pages 39, 50, 61, 94, 111, 133, 149, 153, 159.
[12] In the Canterbury Tales we find participles in -yngë.
[13] It is nearly always thilkë in the Canterbury Tales.
APPENDIX TO INTRODUCTION.
The last of the ancients, and one who forms a link between the classical period of literature and that of the middle ages, in which he was a favourite author, is Boethius, a man of fine genius, and interesting both from his character and his death. It is well known that after filling the dignities of Consul and Senator in the court of Theodoric, he fell a victim to the jealousy of a sovereign, from whose memory, in many respects glorious, the stain of that blood has never been effaced. The Consolation of Philosophy, the chief work of Boethius, was written in his prison. Few books are more striking from the circumstances of their production. Last of the classic writers, in style not impure, though displaying too lavishly that poetic exuberance which had distinguished the two or three preceding centuries, in elevation of sentiment equal to any of the philosophers, and mingling a Christian sanctity with their lessons, he speaks from his prison in the swan-like tones of dying eloquence. The philosophy that consoled him in bonds, was soon required in the sufferings of a cruel death. Quenched in his blood, the lamp he had trimmed with a skilful hand gave no more light; the language of Tully and Virgil soon ceased to be spoken; and many ages were to pass away, before learned diligence restored its purity, and the union of genius with imitation taught a few modern writers to surpass in eloquence the Latinity of Boethius.—(Hallam’s Literature of Europe, i. 2, 4th ed. 1854.)
The Senator Boethius is the last of the Romans whom Cato or Tully could have acknowledged for their countryman. As a wealthy orphan, he inherited the patrimony and honours of the Anician family, a name ambitiously assumed by the kings and emperors of the age; and the appellation of Manlius asserted his genuine or fabulous descent from a race of consuls and dictators, who had repulsed the Gauls from the Capitol, and sacrificed their sons to the discipline of the Republic. In the youth of Boethius the studies of Rome were not totally abandoned; a Virgil is now extant, corrected by the hand of a consul; and the professors of grammar, rhetoric, and jurisprudence, were maintained in their privileges and pensions by the liberality of the Goths. But the erudition of the Latin language was insufficient to satiate his ardent curiosity; and Boethius is said to have employed eighteen laborious years in the schools of Athens, which were supported by the zeal, the learning, and the diligence of Proclus and his disciples. The reason and piety of their Roman pupil were fortunately saved from the contagion of mystery and magic, which polluted the groves of the Academy, but he imbibed the spirit, and imitated the method, of his dead and living masters, who attempted to reconcile the strong and subtle sense of Aristotle with the devout contemplation and sublime fancy of Plato. After his return to Rome, and his marriage with the daughter of his friend, the patrician Symmachus, Boethius still continued, in a palace of ivory and [glass] to prosecute the same studies. The Church was edified by his profound defence of the orthodox creed against the Arian, the Eutychian, and the Nestorian heresies; and the Catholic unity was explained or exposed in a formal treatise by the indifference of three distinct though consubstantial persons. For the benefit of his Latin readers, his genius submitted to teach the first elements of the arts and sciences of Greece. The geometry of Euclid, the music of Pythagoras, the arithmetic of Nicomachus, the mechanics of Archimedes, the astronomy of Ptolemy, the theology of Plato, and the logic of Aristotle, with the commentary of Porphyry, were translated and illustrated by the indefatigable pen of the Roman senator. And he alone was esteemed capable of describing the wonders of art, a sun-dial, a water-clock, or a sphere which represented the motions of the planets. From these abstruse speculations, Boethius stooped, or, to speak more truly, he rose to the social duties of public and private life: the indigent were relieved by his liberality; and his eloquence, which flattery might compare to the voice of Demosthenes or Cicero, was uniformly exerted in the cause of innocence and humanity. Such conspicuous merit was felt and rewarded by a discerning prince: the dignity of Boethius was adorned with the titles of consul and patrician, and his talents were usefully employed in the important station of master of the offices. Notwithstanding the equal claims of the East and West, his two sons were created, in their tender youth, the consuls of the same year. On the memorable day of their inauguration, they proceeded in solemn pomp from their palace to the forum amidst the applause of the senate and people; and their joyful father, the true Consul of Rome, after pronouncing an oration in the praise of his royal benefactor, distributed a triumphal largess in the games of the circus. Prosperous in his fame and fortunes, in his public honours and private alliances, in the cultivation of science and the consciousness of virtue, Boethius might have been styled happy, if that precarious epithet could be safely applied before the last term of the life of man.
A philosopher, liberal of his wealth and parsimonious of his time, might be insensible to the common allurements of ambition, the thirst of gold and employment. And some credit may be due to the asseveration of Boethius, that he had reluctantly obeyed the divine Plato, who enjoins every virtuous citizen to rescue the state from the usurpation of vice and ignorance. For the integrity of his public conduct he appeals to the memory of his country. His authority had restrained the pride and oppression of the royal officers, and his eloquence had delivered Paulianus from the dogs of the palace. He had always pitied, and often relieved, the distress of the provincials, whose fortunes were exhausted by public and private rapine; and Boethius alone had courage to oppose the tyranny of the Barbarians, elated by conquest, excited by avarice, and, as he complains, encouraged by impunity. In these honourable contests his spirit soared above the consideration of danger, and perhaps of prudence; and we may learn from the example of Cato, that a character of pure and inflexible virtue is the most apt to be misled by prejudice, to be heated by enthusiasm, and to confound private enmities with public justice. The disciple of Plato might exaggerate the infirmities of nature, and the imperfections of society; and the mildest form of a Gothic kingdom, even the weight of allegiance and gratitude, must be insupportable to the free spirit of a Roman patriot. But the favour and fidelity of Boethius declined in just proportion with the public happiness; and an unworthy colleague was imposed to divide and control the power of the master of the offices. In the last gloomy season of Theodoric, he indignantly felt that he was a slave; but as his master had only power over his life, he stood without arms and without fear against the face of an angry Barbarian, who had been provoked to believe that the safety of the senate was incompatible with his own. The Senator Albinus was accused and already convicted on the presumption of hoping, as it was said, the liberty of Rome.
“If Albinus be criminal,” exclaimed the orator, “the senate and myself are all guilty of the same crime. If we are innocent, Albinus is equally entitled to the protection of the laws.” These laws might not have punished the simple and barren wish of an unattainable blessing; but they would have shown less indulgence to the rash confession of Boethius, that, had he known of a conspiracy, the tyrant never should. The advocate of Albinus was soon involved in the danger and perhaps the guilt of his client; their signature (which they denied as a forgery) was affixed to the original address, inviting the emperor to deliver Italy from the Goths; and three witnesses of honourable rank, perhaps of infamous reputation, attested the treasonable designs of the Roman patrician. Yet his innocence must be presumed, since he was deprived by Theodoric of the means of justification, and rigorously confined in the tower of Pavia, while the senate, at the distance of five hundred miles, pronounced a sentence of confiscation and death against the most illustrious of its members. At the command of the Barbarians, the occult science of a philosopher was stigmatized with the names of sacrilege and magic. A devout and dutiful attachment to the senate was condemned as criminal by the trembling voices of the senators themselves; and their ingratitude deserved the wish or prediction of Boethius, that, after him, none should be found guilty of the same offence.
While Boethius, oppressed with fetters, expected each moment the sentence or the stroke of death, he composed in the tower of Pavia the Consolation of Philosophy; a golden volume not unworthy of the leisure of Plato or Tully, but which claims incomparable merit from the barbarism of the times and the situation of the author. The celestial guide, whom he had so long invoked at Rome and Athens, now condescended to illumine his dungeon, to revive his courage, and to pour into his wounds her salutary balm. She taught him to compare his long prosperity and his recent distress, and to conceive new hopes from the inconstancy of fortune. Reason had informed him of the precarious condition of her gifts; experience had satisfied him of their real value; he had enjoyed them without guilt; he might resign them without a sigh, and calmly disdain the impotent malice of his enemies, who had left him happiness, since they had left him virtue. From the earth, Boethius ascended to heaven in search of the Supreme Good; explored the metaphysical labyrinth of chance and destiny, of prescience and free-will, of time and eternity; and generously attempted to reconcile the perfect attributes of the Deity with the apparent disorders of his moral and physical government. Such topics of consolation, so obvious, so vague, or so abstruse, are ineffectual to subdue the feelings of human nature. Yet the sense of misfortune may be diverted by the labour of thought; and the sage who could artfully combine in the same work the various riches of philosophy, poetry, and eloquence, must already have possessed the intrepid calmness which he affected to seek. Suspense, the worst of evils, was at length determined by the ministers of death, who executed, and perhaps exceeded, the inhuman mandate of Theodoric. A strong cord was fastened round the head of Boethius, and forcibly tightened till his eyes almost started from their sockets; and some mercy may be discovered in the milder torture of beating him with clubs till he expired. But his genius survived to diffuse a ray of knowledge over the darkest ages of the Latin world; the writings of the philosopher were translated by the most glorious of the English kings, and the third emperor of the name of Otho removed to a more honourable tomb the bones of a Catholic saint, who, from his Arian persecutors, had acquired the honours of martyrdom and the fame of miracles. In the last hours of Boethius, he derived some comfort from the safety of his two sons, of his wife, and of his father-in-law, the venerable Symmachus. But the grief of Symmachus was indiscreet, and perhaps disrespectful; he had presumed to lament, he might dare to revenge, the death of an injured friend. He was dragged in chains from Rome to the palace of Ravenna; and the suspicions of Theodoric could only be appeased by the blood of an innocent and aged senator.—Gibbon’s Decline and Fall, 1838, vol. vii. p. 45-52 (without the notes).
[INDEX]
(Giving the first line of each Metre, the first words of each Prose,
and the corresponding page of the translation).
| Book | Metre | Prose | Page | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| [I] | [1] | — | Carmina qui quondam studio florenteperegi | [4] |
| „ | — | [1] | Hæc dum mecum tacitus ipse reputarem | [5] |
| „ | [2] | — | Heu, quam præcipiti mersaprofundo | [7] |
| „ | — | [2] | Sed medicinæ, inquit, potius tempus est | [8] |
| „ | [3] | — | Tunc me discussa liquerunt noctetenebræ | [9] |
| „ | — | [3] | Haud aliter tristitiæ nebulis dissolutis, hausicœlum | [10] |
| „ | [4] | — | Quisquis composito serenus ævo | [12] |
| „ | — | [4] | Sentisne, inquit, hæc, atque animo illabunturtuo? | [13] |
| „ | [5] | — | O stelliferi conditor orbis | [21] |
| „ | — | [5] | Hæc ubi continuato dolore delatravi | [23] |
| „ | [6] | — | Cum Phœbi radiis grave | [25] |
| „ | — | [6] | Primum igitur paterisne me pauculisrogationibus | [26] |
| „ | [7] | — | Nubibus atris | [29] |
| [II] | — | [1] | Posthæc paulisper obticuit | [29] |
| „ | [1] | — | Hæc cum superba verterit vicesdextra | [33] |
| „ | — | [2] | Vellem autem pauca tecum fortunæ ipsius | [33] |
| „ | [2] | — | Si quantas rapidis flatibusincitus | [35] |
| „ | — | [3] | His igitur si pro se tecum fortuna loqueretur | [36] |
| „ | [3] | — | Cum polo Phœbus roseisquadrigis | [39] |
| „ | — | [4] | Tum ego, Vera, inquam, commemoras | [39] |
| „ | [4] | — | Quisquis volet perennem | [44] |
| „ | — | [5] | Sed quoniam rationum jam in te mearum fomenta | [45] |
| „ | [5] | — | Felix nimium prior ætas | [50] |
| „ | — | [6] | Quid autem de dignitatibus, potentiaquedisseram | [51] |
| „ | [6] | — | Novimus quantas dederit ruinas | [55] |
| „ | — | [7] | Tum ego, Scis, inquam, ipsa | [56] |
| „ | [7] | — | Quicumque solam mente præcipitipetit | [60] |
| „ | — | [8] | Sed ne me inexorabile contra fortunam | [61] |
| „ | [8] | — | Quod mundus stabili fide | [62] |
| [III] | — | [1] | Jam cantum illa finierat | [63] |
| „ | [1] | — | Qui serere ingenuum volet agrum | [64] |
| „ | — | [2] | Tum defixo paululum visu | [64] |
| „ | [2] | — | Quantas rerum flectat habenas | [68] |
| „ | — | [3] | Vos quoque, o terrena animalia | [69] |
| „ | [3] | — | Quamvis fluente dives aurigurgite | [71] |
| „ | — | [4] | Sed dignitates honorabilem reverendumque | [72] |
| „ | [4] | — | Quamvis se Tyrio superbus ostro | [74] |
| „ | — | [5] | An vero regna regumque familiaritas efficerepotentem valent? | [75] |
| „ | [5] | — | Qui se volet esse potentem | [77] |
| „ | — | [6] | Gloria vero quam fallax sæpe, quam turpis est! | [77] |
| „ | [6] | — | Omne hominum genus in terris | [78] |
| „ | — | [7] | Quid autem de corporis voluptatibus loquar? | [79] |
| „ | [7] | — | Habet omnis hoc voluptas | [80] |
| „ | — | [8] | Nihil igitur dubium est, quin | [80] |
| „ | [8] | — | Eheu, quam miseros tramitedevio | [81] |
| „ | — | [9] | Hactenus mendacis formam felicitatis ostendisse | [82] |
| „ | [9] | — | O qui perpetua mundum rationegubernas | [87] |
| „ | — | [10] | Quoniam igitur quæ sit imperfecti | [88] |
| „ | [10] | — | Huc omnes pariter venite capti | [94] |
| „ | — | [11] | Assentior, inquam. | [95] |
| „ | [11] | — | Quisquis profunda mente vestigatverum | [100] |
| „ | — | [12] | Tum ego, Platoni, inquam, vehementer assentior | [101] |
| „ | [12] | — | Felix qui potuit boni | [106] |
| [IV] | — | [1] | Hæc cum Philosophia, dignitate | [108] |
| „ | [1] | — | Sunt etenim pennæ volucres mihi | [110] |
| „ | — | [2] | Tum ego, Papæ, inquam, ut magna promittis! | [112] |
| „ | [2] | — | Quos vides sedere celso | [118] |
| „ | — | [3] | Videsne igitur quanto in cœno probra volvantur | [119] |
| „ | [3] | — | Vela Neritii ducis | [122] |
| „ | — | [4] | Tum ego, Fateor, inquam, nec injuria dici video | [123] |
| „ | [4] | — | Quid tantos juvat excitaremotus | [130] |
| „ | — | [5] | Hic ego, Video, inquam, quæ sit vel felicitas | [131] |
| „ | [5] | — | Si quis Arcturi sidera nescit | [132] |
| „ | — | [6] | Ita est, inquam. | [133] |
| „ | [6] | — | Si vis celsi jura tonantis | [143] |
| „ | — | [7] | Jamne igitur vides, quid hæc omnia quæ diximus,consequatur? | [144] |
| „ | [7] | — | Bella bis quinis operatus annis | [147] |
| [V] | — | [1] | Dixerat, orationisque cursum ad alia quædam | [149] |
| „ | [1] | — | Rupis Achæmeniæ scopulis, ubi versasequentum | [151] |
| „ | — | [2] | Animadverto, inquam, idque uti tu dicis, ita esseconsentio. | [152] |
| „ | [2] | — | Puro clarum lumine Phœbum | [153] |
| „ | — | [3] | Tum ego, En, inquam, difficiliori rursus ambiguitateconfundor. | [154] |
| „ | [3] | — | Quænam discors fœdera rerum | [159] |
| „ | — | [4] | Tum illa, Vetus, inquit, hæc est de Providentiaquerela | [161] |
| „ | [4] | — | Quondam porticus attulit | [166] |
| „ | — | [5] | Quod si in corporibus sentiendis, quamvis | [168] |
| „ | [5] | — | Quam variis terras animalia permeantfiguris! | [170] |
| „ | — | [6] | Quoniam igitur, uti paulo ante monstratum est | [171] |
| Appendix.— | [Ætas Prima] | [180] | ||
| „ | [Balades de Vilage sanzPeinture] | [182] | ||
[TABLE OF CONTENTS.]
[I]NCIPIT TABULA LIBRI BOICII
DE CONSOLACIONE PHILOSOPHIE.
[Additional MS. 10,340, fol. 3.]
[fol. 3.] [LIBER PRIMUS.]
1 Carmina qui quondam studio florente peregi.
2 Hic dum mecum tacitus.
3 Heu quam precipiti.
4 Set medicine inquit tempus.
5 Tunc me discussa.
6 Haut[1] aliter tristicie.
7 Quisquis composito.
8 Sentis ne inquit.
9 O stelliferi conditor orbis.
10 Hic ubi continuato dolore.
11 Cum phebi radijs.
12 Primum igitur pateris rogacionibus.
13 Nubibus atris condita.
EXPLICIT LIBER PRIMUS.
[LIBER SECUNDUS.]
1 Postea paulisper[2] conticuit.
2 Hec cum superba.
3 Uellem autem pauca.
4 Si quantas rapidis.
5 His igitur si et pro se.
6 Cum primo polo.
7 Tunc ego uera inquam.
8 Contraque.
9 Quisquis ualet perhennem cantus.
10 Set cum racionum iam in te.
11 Felix in mirum iam prior etas.
12 Quid autem de dignitatibus.
13 Nouimus quantos dederat.
14 Tum ego scis inquam.
15 Quicunque solam mente.
16 Set ne me inexorabile.
17 Quod mundus stabile fide.
EXPLICIT LIBER SECUNDUS.
[LIBER TERCIUS.]
1 Iam tantum illa.
2 Qui serere ingenium.
3 Tunc defixo paululum.
4 Quantas rerum flectat.
5 Uos quoque terrena animalia.
6 Quamuis fluenter diues.
7 Set dignitatibus.
8 Quamuis se tirio.
9 An uero regna.
10 Qui se ualet esse potentem.
11 Gloria uero quam fallax.
12 Omne hominum genus in terris.
13 Quid autem de corporibus.
14 Habet hoc uoluptas.
15 Nichil igitur dubium est.
16 Heu que miseros tramite.
17 Hactenus mendacio formam.
18 O qui perpetua.
19 Quoniam igitur qui scit.
20 Nunc omnes pariter.
21 Assencior inquam cuncta.
22 Quisque profunda.
23 Tunc ego platoni inquam.
24 Felix qui poterit.
EXPLICIT LIBER TERCIUS.
[LIBER QUARTUS.]
1 Hec cum philosophia.
2 Sunt etenim penne.
3 Tunc ego pape inquam.
4 Quos uides sedere celsos.
5 Uides ne igitur quanto.
6 U[e]la naricij ducis.
7 Tunc ego fateor inquam.
8 Quid tantos iuuat.
9 Huic ego uideo inquam.
[3] MS. arituri.
10 Si quis arcturi[3] sydera.
11 Ita est inquam.
12 Si uis celsi iura.
13 Iam ne igitur uides.
14 Bella bis quinis.
EXPLICIT LIBER QUARTUS.
[INCIPIT LIBER QUINTUS.]
1 Dixerat oracionis que cursum.
2 Rupis achemenie.
3 Animaduerto inquam.
4 Puro clarum lumine.
5 Tamen ego en inquam.
6 Que nam discors.
7 Tamen illa uetus.
8 Quondam porticus attulit.
9 Quod si in corporibus.
10 Quam uarijs figuris.
11 Quoniam igitur uti paulo ante.
EXPLICIT LIBER QUINTUS ET ULTIMUS.
BOETHIUS DEPLORES HIS MISFORTUNES.
*[LIBER PRIMUS.] [* fol. 3 b.]
[INCIPIT LIBER BOICII DE CONSOLACIONE PHILOSOPHIE.]
Carmina qui quondam studio florente peregi.
Allas I wepyng Boethius deplores his misfortunes in the following pathetic elegy. am constreined to bygynne vers of
sorouful matere. ¶ Þat whilom in florysching
studie made delitable ditees. For loo rendyng muses
of poetes enditen to me þinges to be writen. and drery [4]
vers of wrecchednes weten my face wiþ verray teers.
¶ At þe leest no drede ne myȝt[e] ouer-come þo muses.
þat þei ne weren felawes and folweden my wey. þat is
to seyne when I was exiled. ypalage antithesis þei þat weren glorie of [8]
my youȝth whilom weleful and grene conforten now þe
sorouful werdes of me olde man. Laments his immature old age. for elde is comen vnwarly
vpon me hasted by þe harmes þat I haue. and
sorou haþ comaunded his age to be in me. ¶ Heeres [12]
hore ben schad ouertymelyche vpon myne heued. and
þe slak[e] skyn trembleþ vpon myn emty body.
Death turns a deaf ear to the wretched. þilk[e] deeþ of men is welful þat ne comeþ not in ȝeres þat
ben swete (.i. mirie.) but comeþ to wrecches often [16]
yclepid.
1 of—MS. of of.
2 florysching—floryssynge
3 rendyng—rendynge
4 be—ben
5 wrecchednes—wrecchednesse
teers—teeres
6 leest—leeste
myȝt[e] ouer-come—myhte ouercomen
8 seyne when—seyn whan
9 youȝth—MS. þoȝt, C. yowthe
10 sorouful werdes—sorful wierdes [i. fata]
12 sorou—sorwe
haþ—MS. haþe
be—ben
13 hore—hoore
ben—arn
myne—myn
14 slak[e]—slake
vpon—of
emty—emptyd
þilk[e]—thilke
15 welful—weleful
comeþ not—comth nat
16 .i. mirie—omitted
¶ Allas allas wiþ how deef an eere deeþ cruel
tourneþ awey fro wrecches and naieþ to closen wepyng
eyen. When Fortune was favourable Death came near Boethius, ¶ While fortune vnfeiþful fauored[e] me [20]
wiþ lyȝte goodes (.s. temporels.) þe sorouful houre þat
is to seyne þe deeþ had[de] almost dreynt myne heued.
but in his adversity life is unpleasantly protracted. ¶ But now for fortune clowdy haþ chaunged hir disceyuable
chere to me warde. myn vnpitouse lijf draweþ [24]
a long vnagreable dwellynges in me. Why did his friends call him happy? He stood not firm that hath thus fallen. ¶ O ȝe my
frendes what or wherto auaunted[e] ȝe me to be weleful:
for he þat haþ fallen stood not in stedfast degree.
19 tourneþ—torneth
naieþ—nayteth
wepyng—wepynge
20 While—Whil
fauored[e]—fauorede
21 lyȝte—lyhte
.s. temporels—omitted
sorouful houre—sorwful howre
22 seyne—seyn
had[de]—hadde
myne—myn
23 haþ—MS. haþe
chaunged hir disceyuable—chaungyd hyre deceyuable
24 vnpitouse lijf—vnpietous lyf
PHILOSOPHY APPEARS TO BOETHIUS.
[HIC DUM MECUM TACITUS.]
IN þe mene while Philosophy appears to Boethius, like a beautiful woman, and of great age. þat I stille recorded[e] þise þinges [28]
wiþ my self. and markede my wepli compleynte wiþ
office of poyntel. I saw stondyng aboue þe heyȝt of my
heued a woman of ful greet reuerence by semblaunt
hir eyen brennyng and clere seing ouer þe comune [32]
myȝt of men. wiþ a lijfly colour and wiþ swiche vigoure
and strenkeþ þat it ne myȝt[e] not be emptid. ¶ Al
were it so þat sche was ful of so greet age. þat men ne
wolde not trowe in no manere þat sche were of oure [36]
elde. Her height could not be determined, for there were times when she raised her head higher than the heavens. þe stature of hir was of a doutous iugement. for
sumtyme sche constreyned[e] and schronk hir seluen
lyche to þe comune mesure of men. and sumtyme it
semed[e] þat sche touched[e] þe heuene wiþ þe heyȝte [40]
of hir heued. and when sche hef hir heued heyer sche
perced[e] þe selue heuene. so þat þe syȝt of men lokyng
was in ydel. Her clothes were finely wrought and indissoluble, but dark and dusky, like old besmoked images. ¶ Hir cloþes weren maked of ryȝt delye
þredes and subtil crafte of perdurable matere. þe wyche [44]
cloþes sche hadde wouen wiþ hir owen hondes: as I
knew wel aftir by hir selfe. declaryng and schewyng
to me þe beaute. þe wiche cloþes a derkenes of a forleten
and dispised elde had[de] duskid and dirkid as [48]
it is wont to dirken by-smoked ymages. On the lower hem of her garment was the letter Π and on the upper Θ. ¶ In þe neþerest[e]
hem or bordure of þese cloþes men redden
ywouen in swiche a gregkysche .P. þat signifieþ þe lijf
actif. And abouen þat lettre in þe heyȝest[e] bordure [52]
a grekysche T. þat signifieþ þe lijf contemplatif.
A DESCRIPTION OF PHILOSOPHY.
Between the letters were steps like a ladder. ¶ And by-twene þese two lettres þere weren seien degrees
nobly wrouȝt in manere of laddres. By wyche
degrees men myȝt[en] clymbe fro þe neþemast[e] lettre [56]
to þe ouermast[e]. Philosophy’s garments were tattered and torn, and pieces had been carried violently off. ¶ Naþeles hondes of sum men
hadde korue þat cloþe by vyolence and by strenkeþ.
¶ And eueryche man of hem hadde born away syche
peces as he myȝte geet[e]. In her right hand she bore her books, and in her left a sceptre. ¶ And forsoþe þis forsaide [60]
woman ber bookes in hir ryȝt honde. and in hir lefte
honde sche ber a ceptre. ¶ And when sche sauȝ þese
poetical muses aprochen aboute my bedde. and endytyng
wordes to my wepynges. sche was a lytel ameued [64]
and glowed[e] wiþ cruel eyen. Philosophy bids the Muses leave Boethius, as they only increase his sorrow with their sweet venom. ¶ Who quod sche haþ
suffred aprochen to þis seek[e] man þise comune strumpetis
[* fol. 4.] of siche a place þat *men clepen þe theatre.
¶ Þe wyche only ne asswagen not his sorowes. wiþ no [68]
remedies. but þei wolde fede and norysche hem wiþ
swete venym. ¶ Forsoþe þise ben þo þat wiþ þornes
and prykkynges of talentȝ or affecciouns wiche þat
ben no þing frutefiyng nor profitable destroyen þe [72]
cornes plenteuouse of frutes of reson. They may accustom the mind to bear grief, but cannot free it from its malady. ¶ For þei
holden þe hertes of men in usage. but þei ne delyuere
not folk fro maladye. but if ȝe muses hadde wiþdrawen
fro me wiþ ȝoure flateries. any vnkonnyng and vnprofitable [76]
man as men ben wont to fynde comunely amonges
þe peple. I wolde wene suffre þe lasse greuously.
PHILOSOPHY REBUKES THE MUSES.
Philosophy is deeply grieved, because they have not seduced one of the profane, but one who has been brought up in Eleatic and Academic studies. ¶ For-why in syche an vnprofitable man myne ententes
weren no þing endamaged. ¶ But ȝe wiþdrawen me [80]
þis man þat haþ ben norysched in studies or scoles of
Eleaticis and of achademicis in grece. She bids the syrens begone. ¶ But goþ now
raþer awey ȝe meremaydenes wyche ben swete til it
be at þe laste. and suffreþ þis man to be cured and [84]
heled by myne muses. þat is to say by notful sciences.
Blushing for shame they pass the threshold. ¶ And þus þis compaygnie of muses I-blamed casten
wroþely þe chere adounward to þe erþe and schewyng
by redenesse hir schame þei passeden sorowfuly þe [88]
þreschefolde. ¶ And I of whom þe syȝt plonged in
teres was derked so þat I ne myȝt[e] not knowe what
þat woman was of so imperial auctorite. Boethius is astonished at the presence of the august dame. ¶ I wex al
a-besid and astoned. and caste my syȝt adoune in to þe [92]
erþe. and bygan stille forto abide what sche wolde don
afterwarde. ¶ Þo come sche nere and sette hir doun
vpon þe vterrest[e] corner of my bedde. Philosophy expresses her concern for Boethius. and sche byholdyng
my chere þat was cast to þe erþe heuy and [96]
greuous of wepyng. compleinede wiþ þise wordes þat I
schal sey þe perturbacioun of my þouȝt.
26 auaunted[e]—auauntede
be—ben
27 haþ—MS. haþe
not—nat
stedfast—stidefast
28 In þe mene—omitted
recorded[e]—recordede
30 saw—MS. sawe, C. sawh
stondyng above—MS. studiyng aboue, C. stondinge abouen
heyȝt—heyhte
my—myn
31 greet—gret
32 brennyng—brennynge
clere seing—cleer seynge
33 swiche—swych
34 strenkeþ—strengthe
it——emptid—it myhte nat ben emted
Al—alle
36 wolde——trowe—wolden nat trowen
37 iugement—Iuggement
38 sumtyme—somtyme
constreyned[e]—constreynede
schronk—MS. schronke, C. shronk
39 lyche—lyk
40 semed[e]—semede
touched[e]—towchede
41 when—whan
hef—MS. heued, C. hef
heyer—hyere
42 perced[e]—percede
syȝt—syhte
lokyng—lookynge
44 crafte—craft
45 wouen—MS. wonnen, C. wouen
owen hondes—owne handes
46 knew—MS. knewe, C. knewh
selfe declaryng—self declarynge
schewyng—shewynge
47 derkenes—dirknesse
forleten—forletyn
48 dispised—despised
had[de] duskid—hadde dusked
dirkid—derked
49 by-smoked—the smokede
neþerest[e]—nethereste
50 þese—thise
51 swiche—omitted
gregkysche—grekysshe
signifieþ—syngnifieth
52 heyȝest[e]—heyeste
54 by-twene þese—bytwixen thise
þere—ther
seien—seyn
55 nobly wrouȝt—nobely ywroght
wyche—whiche
56 myȝt[en] clymbe—myhten clymbyn
neþemast[e]—nethereste
57 ouermast[e]—vppereste
sum—some
58 hadde korue—hadden koruen
cloþe—cloth
strenkeþ—strengthe
59 born—MS. borne, C. born
away syche—awey swiche
60 geet[e]—geten
forsaide—forseide
61 ber—MS. bere, C. bar
bookes—smale bookes
honde—hand
lefte honde—left hand
62 ber—MS. bere, C. baar
sauȝ þese—say thise
63 bedde—bed
endytyng—enditynge
64 ameued—amoued
65 glowed[e]—glowede
haþ—MS. haþe, C. hath
66 seek[e]—sike
þise—the
strumpetis—strompetes
67 siche—swich
clepen—clepyn
68 only ne—nat oonly ne
not his—nat hise
no—none
69 wolde fede—wolden feeden
norysche hem—noryssyn hym
72 ben—ne ben
frutefiyng—fructefiynge
73 cornes plenteuouse—corn plentyuos
74 þe and ne—both omitted
75 not—nat
if ȝe—MS. if þe, C. yif ye
hadde—hadden
76 vnkonnyng—vnkunnynge
78 peple—poeple
79 syche—swhiche
myne—myn
80 weren—ne weeren
ȝe—ye
81 haþ—MS. haþe, C. hath
ben—be
scoles—schooles
82 goþ—MS. goþe, C. goth
83 wyche—whiche þat
85 say—seyn
notful—noteful
86 I-blamed—Iblamyd
87 wroþely—wrothly
adounward—downward
88 redenesse—rednesse
sorowfuly—sorwfully
89 þreschefolde—thresshfold
syȝt—syhte
90 derked—dyrked
myȝt[e]——knowe—myhte nat knowen
91 wex—wax
92 a-besid—abaysshed
caste—cast
adoune in to—down to
93 don—MS. done
95 vterrest[e] corner—vttereste cornere
bedde—bed
97 compleinede—compley[n]de
98 sey—seyen
PHILOSOPHY ADDRESSES BOETHIUS.
[HEU QUAM PRECIPITI MERSA PROFUNDO.]
Allas how þe þouȝt of Drowned in the depth of cares the mind loses its proper clearness. man dreint in ouer þrowyng
depnesse dulleþ and forletiþ hys propre clerenesse. [100]
myntynge to gone in to foreyne derknesses as
ofte as hys anoious bisines wexiþ wiþ-outen mesure.
þat is dryuen to and fro wiþ worldly wyndes. Man in his freedom knew each region of the sky, the motions of the planets, and was wont to investigate the causes of storms, the nature and properties of the seasons, and the hidden causes of nature. ¶ Þis
man þat sumtyme was fre to whom þe heuene was open [104]
and knowen and was wont to gone in heuenelyche
paþes. and sauȝ þe lyȝtnesse of þe rede sunne. and sauȝ
þe sterres of þe colde moone. and wyche sterre in
heuene vseþ wandryng risorses yflit by dyuerse speres. [108]
¶ Þis man ouer comere hadde comprehendid al þis by
noumbre. of accountyng in astronomye. ¶ And ouer
þis he was wont to seche þe causes whennes þe sounyng
wyndes moeuen and bisien þe smoþe water of þe [112]
see. and what spirit turneþ þe stable heuene. and
whi þe sterre ryseþ oute of þe reede eest. to falle
in þe westren wawes. and what attempriþ þe lusty
houres of þe fyrste somer sesoun þat hiȝteþ and apparaileþ [116]
þe erþe wiþ rosene floures. ¶ And who
makeþ þat plenteuouse autumpne in fulle ȝeres fletiþ
wiþ heuy grapes. ¶ And eke þis man was wont to
telle þe dyuerses causes of nature þat weren yhid. [120]
But now, alas, he is constrained to keep his face to the ground. ¶ Allas now lieþ he emptid of lyȝt of hys þouȝt. and
hys nekke is pressid wiþ heuy cheynes and bereþ his
chere enclined adoune for þe greet[e] weyȝt. and is
constreyned to loke on foule erþe. [124]
101 gone—goon
102 bisines—bysynesse
outen—owte
103 worldly—wordely
104 sumtyme—whilom
105 gone—goon
106 paþes—paathes
sauȝ—sawh
lyȝtnesse—lythnesse
sunne—sonne
sauȝ—MS. sue, C. sawgh
107 wyche—which
108 risorses—recourses
111 seche—seken
sounyng—sownynge
114 ryseþ oute—aryseth owt
falle—fallen
115 westren—westrene
116 fyrste—fyrst
119 eke—ek
120 dyuerses—diuerse
yhid—MS. yhidde
121 lieþ—lith
emptid—emted
123 adoune—adown
greet[e] weyȝt—grete weyhte
124 loke——foule—looken on the fool
PHILOSOPHY ENLIGHTENS BOETHIUS.
[SET MEDICINE INQUIT TEMPUS.]
Bvt tyme is now More need of medicine than of complaint. quod sche of medicine more þen of
compleynte. ¶ Forsoþe þen sche entendyng to
me warde wiþ al þe lokyng of hir eyen saide. Philosophy addresses Boethius. ¶ Art
not þou he quod sche þat sumtyme I-norschid wiþ my [128]
mylke and fostre[d] wiþ my meetes were ascaped and
comen to corage of a perfit man. ¶ Certys I ȝaf þe
syche armures þat ȝif þou þi self ne haddest first caste
hem away. þei schulden haue defendid þe in sykernesse [132]
þat may not be ouer-comen. ¶ Knowest þou me not.
[* fol. 4 b.] She fears his silence proceeds from shame rather than from stupidity. *Why art þou stille. is it for schame or for astonynge.
It were me leuer þat it were for schame. but it semeþ
me þat astonynge haþ oppressed þe. She finds him, however, in a lethargy, the distemper of a disordered mind. ¶ And whan [136]
sche say me not oonly stille. but wiþ-outen office of
tonge and al doumbe. sche leide hir honde softely vpon
my brest and seide. ¶ Here nis no peril quod sche.
¶ He is fallen in to a litargie. whiche þat is a comune [140]
sekenes to hertes þat ben desceiued. ¶ He haþ a litel
forȝeten hym self. but certis he schal lyȝtly remembren
hym self. ¶ Ȝif so be þat he haþ knowen me or now.
To make his recovery an easy matter, she wipes his eyes, which were darkened by the clouds of mortal things, and dries up his tears. and þat he may so done I wil wipe a litel hys eyen. [144]
þat ben derked by þe cloude of mortel þinges ¶ Þise
wordes seide sche. and wiþ þe lappe of hir garment
yplitid in a frounce sche dried[e] myn eyen þat were
ful of þe wawes of my wepynges. [148]
125, 126 þen—than
127 al—alle
saide—seyde
128 sumtyme—whilom
I-norschid—MS. I-norschide, C. noryssed
129 fostre[d]—fostered
my—myne
130 Certys—Certes
ȝaf, yaf
131 syche—swiche
ȝif—yif
caste—C. cast
132 away—awey
schulden haue—sholden han
133 not be—nat ben
Knowest þou—knowestow
134 art þou—artow
136 haþ—MS. haþe
138 tonge—tunge
doumbe—dowmb
honde—hand
139 Here—her
140 litargie whiche—litarge which
141 sekenes—sykenesse
141, 143 haþ—MS. haþe
144 done—doon
wil wipe—wol wypen
146 garment—garnement
147 dried[e]—dryede
were—weeren
148 ful—fulle
BOETHIUS RECOGNIZES HIS PHYSICIAN.
[TUNC ME DISCUSSA.]
Þus when þat Her touch dispels the darkness of his soul, just as the heavy vapours, that darken the skies and obscure the sunlight, are chased away by the north wind, causing the return of the hidden day, when the sun smites our wondering sight with his sudden light. nyȝt was discussed and chased awey.
derknesses forleften me. and to myn eyen repeyre
aȝeyne her firste strenkeþ. and ryȝt by ensample as
þe sonne is hid when þe sterres ben clustred. þat is to [152]
sey when sterres ben couered wiþ cloudes by a swifte
wynde þat hyȝt chorus. and þat þe firmament stont
derked by wete ploungy cloudes. and þat þe sterres not
apperen vpon heuene. ¶ So þat þe nyȝt semeþ sprad [156]
vpon erþe. ¶ Yif þan þe wynde þat hyȝt borias
sent out of þe kaues of þe contre of Trace betiþ þis
nyȝt. þat is to seyn chasiþ it away and descouereþ þe
closed day. ¶ Þan schineþ phebus yshaken wiþ [160]
sodeyne lyȝt and smyteþ wiþ hys bemes in meruelyng
eyen.
149 when—whan
150 myn—myne
repeyre—repeyrede
151 aȝeyne—omitted
her firste—hir fyrst
152 hid—MS. hidde, C. hid
when—whan
153 sey—seyn
when—whan
154 hyȝt—heyhte
chorus—MS. thorus
stont—MS. stonde, C. stant
157 þan—thanne
wynde—wynd
hyȝt—hyhte
158 sent—isent
160 þan—thanne
161 sodeyne—sodeyn
THE TRIALS OF PHILOSOPHY AND PHILOSOPHERS.
[HAUT][1][ ALITER TRISTICIE.] [1] MS. hanc.
Ryȝt so The clouds of sorrow being dispelled, Boethius recollects the features of his Physician, whom he discovers to be Philosophy. and none oþer wyse þe cloudes of sorowe
dissolued and don awey. ¶ I took heuene. and [164]
receyuede mynde to knowe þe face of my fyciscien.
¶ So þat I sette myne eyen on hir and festned[e] my
lokyng. I byholde my norice philosophie. in whos
houses I hadde conuersed and haunted fro my ȝouþe. [168]
and I seide þus. He addresses her. ¶ O þou maistresse of alle uertues
descendid fro þe souereyne sete. Whi art þou comen
in to þis solitarie place of myn exil. ¶ Art þou comen
for þou art mad coupable wiþ me of fals[e] blames. [172]
She expresses her concern for him, and tells him that she is willing to share his misfortunes. ¶ O quod sche my norry scholde I forsake þe now. and
scholde I not parte wiþ þe by comune trauaille þe charge
þat þou hast suffred for envie of my name. ¶ Certis
it nar[e] not leueful ne sittyng to philosophie to leten [176]
wiþ-outen compaignie þe wey of hym þat is innocent.
She fears not any accusation, as if it were a new thing. ¶ Scholde I þan redoute my blame and agrisen as þouȝ
þer were byfallen a newe þing. q. d. non. ¶ For
trowest þou þat philosophi be now alþerfirst assailed [180]
in perils by folk of wicked[e] maneres. For before the age of Plato she contended against folly, and by her help Socrates triumphed over an unjust death. ¶ Haue I not
stryuen wiþ ful greet strife in olde tyme byfore þe
age of my plato aȝeins þe foolhardines of foly and
eke þe same plato lyuyng. hys maistre socrates [184]
deserued[e] victorie of vnryȝtful deeþ in my presence.
Of the inheritance of Socrates the rout of Epicureans and Stoics wanted to get a part. ¶ Þe heritage of wyche socrates. þe heritage is to seyne
þe doctrine of þe whiche socrates in hys oppinioun of
felicite þat I clepe welfulnesse ¶ Whan þat þe people [188]
of epicuriens and stoyciens and many oþer enforceden
hem to go rauische eueryche man for his part þat is
to seyne. þat to eueryche of hem wolde drawen to þe
defence of his oppinioun þe wordes of socrates. Philosophy withstood them, whereupon they tore her robe, and, departing with the shreds, imagined that they had got possession of her. ¶ Þei [192]
as in partie of hir preye todrowen me criynge and
debatyng þer aȝeins. and tornen and torenten my cloþes
þat I hadde wouen wiþ myn handes. and wiþ þe
cloutes þat þei hadden arased oute of my cloþes. þei [196]
wenten awey wenyng þat I hadde gon wiþ hem euery
dele. Thus, clothed with her spoils, they deceived many. In whiche epicuryens and stoyciens. for as
myche as þer semed[e] somme traces and steppes of
myne habit. þe folye of men wenyng þo epicuryens [200]
[* fol. 5.] and stoyciens my *familers peruertede (.s. persequendo)
somme þoruȝ þe errour of þe wikked[e] or vnkunnyng[e]
multitude of hem. Philosophy adduces examples of wise men, who had laboured under difficulties on account of being her disciples. ¶ Þis is to seyne for þei
semeden philosophres: þei weren pursued to þe deeþ [204]
and slayn. ¶ So yif þou hast not knowen þe exilynge
of anaxogore. ne þe empoysenyng of socrates. ne þe
tourmentȝ of ȝeno for þei [weren] straungers.
¶ Ȝit myȝtest þou haue knowen þe senectiens and þe Canyos [208]
and þe sorancis of wyche folk þe renoun is neyþer ouer
oolde ne vnsolempne. ¶ Þe whiche men no þing ellys
ne brouȝt[e] hem to þe deeþ but oonly for þei weren
enfourmed of my maneres. and semeden moste vnlyke [212]
to þe studies of wicked folk. ¶ And forþi þou auȝtest
not to wondre þouȝ þat I in þe bitter see of þis lijf be
fordryuen wiþ tempestes blowyng aboute. It is the aim of Philosophy to displease the wicked, who are more to be despised than dreaded, for they have no leader. in þe whiche
tempeste þis is my most purpos þat is to seyn to displese [216]
to wikked[e] men. ¶ Of whiche schrews al be
þe oost neuer so grete it is to dispyse. for it nis gouerned
wiþ no leder of resoune. but it is rauysched only by
flityng errour folyly and lyȝtly. If Philosophy is attacked by the wicked, she retires within her fortress, leaving the enemy busy among the useless baggage, and laughing to scorn such hunters of trifles. ¶ And if þei somtyme [220]
makyng an ost aȝeynest vs assaile vs as strengere. oure
leder draweþ to gedir hys rycchesse in to hys toure.
and þei ben ententif aboute sarpulers or sachels vnprofitable
forto taken. but we þat ben heyȝ abouen syker [224]
fro al tumulte and wode noise. ben stored and enclosed
in syche a palays. whider as þat chateryng or anoying
folye ne may not attayne. ¶ We scorne swiche
rauiners and honters of foulest[e] þinges. [228]
163 none oþer—non oother
sorowe—sorwe
165 knowe—knowen
166 myne—myn
festned[e]—fastnede
170 fro—from
170, 171 art þou—artow
172 mad—MS. made, C. maked
fals[e]—false
174 parte—parten
176 nar[e]—nere
sittyng—sittinge
178 þan—thanne
179 þing—thing
q.d. non—omitted
180 trowest þou—trowestow
alþerfirst—alderfirst
181 wicked[e]—wikkede
182 strife—strif
183 aȝeins—ayenis
foolhardines—foolhardinesse
foly—folie
184 eke—ek
185 deserued[e]—desseruede
186 wyche—the which
seyne—seyn
188 welfulnesse—welefulnesse
189 oþer—oothre
190 go—gon
eueryche—euerich
191 seyne—seyn
to—omitted
eueryche—euerich
194 tornen—read coruen, C. koruen
195 wouen—MS. wonnen, C. wouen
196 arased—arraced
197 gon—MS. gone, C. gon
198 dele—del
199 myche—moche
semed[e]—semede
and—or
200 myne—myn
wenyng—MS. wevyng, C. weninge
202 þoruȝ—thorw
wikked[e]—wikkede
vnkunnyng[e]—vnkunnynge
203 seyne—seyn þat
204 semeden—semede
pursued—MS. pursuede, C. pursued
205 slayn—MS. slayne, C. slayn
207 [weren]—weeren
208 myȝtest þou haue—myhtestow han
209 sorancis—sorans
wyche—which
is—nis
210 oolde—MS. colde, C. old
211 brouȝt[e]—browhte
212 enfourmed—MS. vnfourmed, C. enformyd
my—myne
vnlyke—vnlyk
213 wicked folk—wikkede foolke
auȝtest—owhtest
214 wondre—wondren
bitter—bittre
216 displese—displesen
217 wikked[e]—wikkede
schrews—shrewes
218 oost—glossed acies in C.
grete—gret
219, 222 leder—ledere
220 flityng—fleetynge
lyȝtly—lythly
if—yif
221 aȝeynest—ayenis
222 to——rycchesse, to gydere hise rychesses
toure—towr
224 heyȝ—heye
225 al—alle
ben—omitted
stored—warnestored
226 syche—swich
þat—omitted
227 scorne—schorne
228 rauiners——þinges—rauyneres & henteres of fowleste thinges
THE AIM OF PHILOSOPHY.
[QUISQUIS COMPOSITO.]
Who so it be He who hath triumphed over fate, and remained insensible to the changes of Fortune, shall not be moved by storms, nor by the fires of Vesuvius, nor by the fiercest thunderbolts. þat is clere of vertue sad and wel ordinat
of lyuyng. þat haþ put vnderfote þe prowed[e]
wierdes and lokiþ vpryȝt vpon eyþer fortune. he may
holde hys chiere vndiscomfited. ¶ Þe rage ne þe manace [232]
of þe commoeuyng or chasyng vpwarde hete fro þe
botme. ne schal not moeue þat man. ne þe vnstable
mountaigne þat hyȝt veseuus. þat wircheþ oute þoruȝ
hys broken[e] chemineys smokyng fires. ¶ Ne þe wey [236]
of þonder lyȝt þat is wont to smyte heyȝe toures ne
schal not mouene þat man. Fear not the tyrant’s rage. ¶ Wherto þen wrecches
drede ȝe tyrauntes þat ben wode and felownes wiþ-outen
ony strenkeþ. He who neither fears nor hopes for anything disarms the tyrant. ¶ Hope after no þing ne drede nat. and [240]
so schalt þou desarmen þe ire of þilke vnmyȝty tyraunt.
He whose heart fails him, yields his arms, and forges his own fetters. ¶ But who so þat quakyng dredeþ or desireþ þing þat
nis not stable of his ryȝt. þat man þat so doþ haþ cast
awey hys schelde and is remoeued fro hys place. and [244]
enlaceþ hym in þe cheyne wiþ whiche he may be
drawen.
229 clere—cleer
230 lyuyng—leuynge
haþ—MS. haþe
vnderfote—vndir-foot
prowed[e]—prowde
231 may——chiere—may his cheere holde
232 manace—manesses
233 þe—þe see
235 hyȝt—hihte
veseuus—MS. vesenus
wircheþ—writith
236 broken[e]—brokene
smokyng—smokynge
237 smyte—smyten
238 Wherto þen—wharto thanne
239 felownes——ony—felonos withowte any
241 schalt þou desarmen—shaltow deseruien
243 doþ—MS. doþe, C. doth
haþ—MS. haþe, C. hath
cast—MS. caste, C. cast
244 schelde—sheld
remoeued fro—remwed from
245 whiche—the which
be—ben
BOETHIUS SPEAKS OF HIS TROUBLES.
[SENTIS NE INQUIT.]
FElest þou Philosophy seeks to know the malady of Boethius. quod sche þise þinges and entren þei ouȝt
in þi corage. ¶ Art þou like an asse to þe harpe. [248]
Whi wepest þou whi spillest þou teres. ¶ Yif þou
abidest after helpe of þi leche. þe byhoueþ discouere þi
wounde. Boethius complains of Fortune’s unrelenting rage. ¶ Þo .I. þat hadde gadered strenkeþ in my
corage answered[e] and seide. and nedeþ it ȝitte quod [252]
.I. of rehersyng or of amonicioun. and scheweþ it not
ynouȝ by hym self þe scharpnes of fortune þat wexeþ
woode aȝeynes me. Is not she moved, he asks, with the aspect of his prison? ¶ Ne moeueþ it nat þe to seen þe
face or þe manere of þis place (.i. prisoun.). His library, his habit, and his countenance are all changed. ¶ Is þis [256]
þe librarie wyche þat þou haddest chosen for a ryȝt
certeyne sege to þe in myne house. ¶ Þere as þou
desputest of[te] wiþ me of þe sciences of þinges touching
diuinitee and touchyng mankynde. ¶ Was þan [260]
myn habit swiche as it is now. was þan my face or
quasi diceret non.
my chere swiche as now. ¶ Whan I souȝt[e] wiþ þe
secretys of nature. whan þou enfourmedest my maners
and þe resoun of al my lijf. to þe ensaumple of þe ordre [264]
Is this, he asks, the reward of his fidelity? ironice
of heuene. ¶ Is nat þis þe gerdoun þat I refere to þe
to whom I haue be obeisaunt. ¶ Certis þou enfourmedist
by þe mouþe of plato þis sentence. Plato (de Rep. v.) says that those Commonwealths are most happy that are governed by philosophers, or by those who study to be so. þat is to
seyne þat commune þinges or comunabletes weren [268]
blysful yif þei þat haden studied al fully to wisdom
gouerneden þilke þinges. or ellys yif it so by-felle þat
[* fol. 5 b.] þe gouernours *of communalites studieden in grete wisdomes.
PHILOSOPHERS TO BE POLITICIANS.
The same Plato urged philosophers to take upon them the management of public affairs, lest it should fall into the hands of unprincipled citizens. ¶ Þou saidest eke by þe mouþe of þe same [272]
plato þat it was a necessarie cause wyse men to taken
and desire þe gouernaunce of comune þinges. for þat þe
gouernementes of comune citees y-left in þe hondes of
felonous tourmentours Citiȝenis ne scholde not brynge [276]
inne pestilence and destruccioun to goode folk. Boethius declares that he desired to put in practice (in the management of public affairs) what he had learnt in his retirement. ¶ And
þerfore I folowynge þilk auctoritee (.s. platonis). desiryng
to put[te] furþe in execusioun and in acte of comune
administracioun þo þinges þat .I. hadde lerned of þe [280]
among my secre restyng whiles. ¶ Þou and god þat
put[te] þee in þe þouȝtis of wise folk ben knowen wiþ
me þat no þing brouȝt[e] me to maistrie or dignite: but
þe comune studie of al goodenes. He sought to do good to all, but became involved in discord with the wicked. ¶ And þer-of comeþ [284]
it þat by-twixen wikked folk and me han ben greuouse
discordes. þat ne myȝten not be relesed by prayeres.
Consciousness of integrity made him despise the anger of the most powerful. ¶ For þis libertee haþ fredom of conscience þat þe wraþþe
of more myȝty folk haþ alwey ben despised of me for [288]
saluacioun of ryȝt. He opposed Conigastus, and put a stop to the doings of Triguilla. ¶ How ofte haue .I. resisted and
wiþstonde þilk man þat hyȝt[e] conigaste þat made
alwey assautes aȝeins þe propre fortunes of poure feble
folke. ¶ How ofte haue .I. ȝitte put of. or cast out [292]
hym trigwille prouost of þe kynges hous boþe of þe
wronges þat he hadde bygon[ne] to done and eke fully
performed. ¶ How ofte haue I couered and defended
by þe auctorite of me put aȝeins perils. He put his authority in peril for the defence of poor folk. þat is to seine put [296]
myne auctorite in peril for þe wreched pore folke. þat
þe couetise of straungeres vnpunysched tourmentid alwey
wiþ myseses and greuaunces oute of noumbre.
BOETHIUS DEFENDS HIS OWN CONDUCT.
I never deviated, he says, from the path of justice. ¶ Neuer man drow me ȝitte fro ryȝt to wrong. When I say þe [300]
fortunes and þe rychesse of þe people of þe prouinces
ben harmed eyþer by priue rauynes or by comune
tributis or cariages. I felt for those that were wrongfully oppressed. as sory was I as þei þat suffred[e]
þe harme. Glosa. ¶ Whan þat theodoric þe kyng of [304]
gothes in a dere ȝere hadde hys gerners ful of corne
and comaundede þat no man ne schold[e] bie no corne
til his corne were solde and þat at a dere greuous pris.
¶ But I withstod þat ordinaunce and ouer-com it [308]
knowyng al þis þe kyng hym self. ¶ Coempcioun þat
is to seyn comune achat or bying to-gidere þat were
establissed vpon poeple by swiche a manere imposicioun
as who so bouȝt[e] a busshel corn he most[e] ȝeue þe [312]
kyng þe fifte part. Textus. I opposed successfully Coemption in Campania. ¶ Whan it was in þe
soure hungry tyme þere was establissed or cried greuous
and inplitable coempcioun þat men seyn wel it schulde
greetly tourmentyn and endamagen al þe prouince of [316]
compaigne I took strif aȝeins þe prouost of þe pretorie
for comune profit. ¶ And þe kyng knowyng of it I
ouercom it so þat þe coempcioun ne was not axed ne
took effect. I saved Paulinus out of the hands of the hounds of the palace (Palatini canes). ¶ Paulyn a counseiller of Rome þe rychesse [320]
of þe whyche paulyn þe houndys of þe palays. þat is to
seyn þe officeres wolde han deuoured by hope and
couetise ¶ Ȝit drow I hym out of þe Iowes .s. faucibus
of hem þat gapeden. I defended Albinus against Cyprian. ¶ And for as myche as þe peyne [324]
of þe accusacioun aiuged byforn ne scholde not sodeynly
henten ne punischen wrongfuly Albyn a counseiller of
Rome. I put[te] me aȝenis þe hates and indignaciouns
of þe accusour Ciprian. ¶ Is it not þan ynought yseyn [328]
þat I haue purchased greet[e] discordes aȝeins my self.
For the love of justice I forfeited all favour at Court. but I aughte be more asseured aȝenis alle oþer folk þat
for þe loue of ryȝtwisnesse .I. ne reserued[e] neuer no
þing to my self to hem ward of þe kynges halle .s. officers. [332]
by þe whiche I were þe more syker. ¶ But þoruȝ þe
same accusours accusyng I am condempned.
THE ACCUSERS OF BOETHIUS.
Boethius makes mention of his accusers, Basilius, Opilio, Gaudentius, men who had been commanded to leave the city on account of their many crimes. ¶ Of þe noumbre of whiche accusours one basilius þat somtyme
was chased out of þe kynges seruice. is now compelled [336]
in accusyng of my name for nede of foreine
moneye. ¶ Also opilion and Gaudencius han accused
me. al be it so þat þe Iustice regal hadde sumtyme demed
hem boþe to go in to exil. for her treccheries and fraudes [340]
wiþ-outen noumbre. ¶ To whiche iugement þei wolde
not obeye. but defended[e] hem by sykernesse of holy
houses. [* fol. 6.] *þat is to seyne fledden in to seyntuaries. and
whan þis was aperceiued to þe kyng. he comaunded[e] [344]
but þat þei voided[e] þe citee of Rauenne by certeyne
day assigned þat men scholde merken hem on þe forheued
wiþ an hoke of iren and chasen hem out of toune.
¶ Now what þing semeþ þe myȝt[e] be lykned to þis [348]
cruelte. But, on the day this sentence was to be executed, they accused him, and their testimony against him was accepted. For certys þilk same day was receyued þe accusyng
of my name by þilk[e] same accusours. ¶ What
may be seid herto. haþ my studie and my konnyng
deserued þus. or ellys þe forseide dampnacioun of me. [352]
made þat hem ryȝtful accusours or no (q.d. non).
Fortune, if not ashamed at this, might at least blush for the baseness of the accusers. ¶ Was not fortune asshamed of þis. [Certes alle hadde
nat fortune ben asshamyd] þat innocence was accused.
ȝit auȝt[e] sche haue had schame of þe filþe of myn accusours. [356]
THE ACCUSATIONS AGAINST BOETHIUS.
¶ But axest þou in somme of what gilt .I.
am accused. Boethius says he is accused of trying to save the Senate, and of having embarrassed an informer against the Senate. men seyne þat I wolde sauen þe compaignie
of þe senatours. ¶ And desirest þou to here
in what manere .I. am accused þat I scholde han distourbed [360]
þe accusour to beren lettres. by whiche he
scholde han maked þe senatours gilty aȝeins þe kynges
Real maieste. ¶ O meistresse what demest þou of
þis. schal .I. forsake þis blame þat I ne be no schame to [364]
þe (q. d. non). It is true that he tried to save the Senate, for he has and will have its best interests always at heart. ¶ Certis .I. haue wold it. þat is to
seyne þe sauuacioun of þe senat. ne I schal neuer leten
to wilne it. and þat I confesse and am a-knowe. but
þe entent of þe accusour to be destourbed schal cese. [368]
¶ For schal I clepe it a felonie þan or a synne þat I
haue desired þe sauuacioun of þe ordre of þe senat.
and certys ȝit hadde þilk same senat don by me þoruȝ
her decretȝ and hire iugementys as þouȝ it were a synne [372]
or a felonie þat is to seyne to wilne þe sauuacioun of
hem (.s senatus). (Folly cannot change the merit of things. ¶ But folye þat lieth alwey to hym
self may not chaunge þe merit of þinges. According to Socrates’ judgment it is not lawful to hide the truth nor assent to a falsehood.) ¶ Ne .I.
trowe not by þe iugement of socrates þat it were leueful [376]
to me to hide þe soþe. ne assent[e] to lesynges.
¶ But certys how so euer it be of þis I put[te] it to gessen
or preisen to þe iugement of þe and of wise folk. ¶ Of
whiche þing al þe ordinaunce and þe soþe for as moche [380]
as folk þat ben to comen aftir oure dayes schollen
knowen it. Boethius determines to transmit an account of his prosecution to posterity. ¶ I haue put it in scripture and remembraunce.
for touching þe lettres falsly maked. by
whiche lettres I am accused to han hooped þe fredom of [384]
Rome. What apperteneþ me to speken þer-of.
Boethius says that he could have defeated his accusers had he been allowed the use of their confessions. Of whiche lettres þe fraude hadde ben schewed apertly if
I hadde had libertee forto han vsed and ben at þe
confessioun of myn accusours. ¶ Þe whiche þing in [388]
alle nedys haþ grete strenkeþ. ¶ For what oþer fredom
may men hopen. But there is now no remains of liberty to be hoped for. Certys I wolde þat some oþer fredom
myȝt[e] be hoped. ¶ I wolde þan haue answered by
þe wordes of a man þat hyȝt[e] Canius. for whan he was [392]
accused by Gayus Cesar Germeins son þat he (canius)
was knowyng and consentyng of a coniuracioun maked
aȝeins hym (.s. Gaius). ¶ Þis Canius answered[e]
þus. ¶ Yif I had[de] wist it þou haddest not wist it. [396]
BOETHIUS COMPLAINS TO PHILOSOPHY.
It is not strange that the wicked should conspire against virtue. In whiche þing sorwe haþ not so dulled my witte
þat I pleyne oonly þat schrewed[e] folk apparailen
folies aȝeins vertues. ¶ But I wondre gretly how þat
þei may performe þinges þat þei had[de] hoped forto [400]
done. The will to do ill proceeds from the defects of human nature. For why. to wylne schrewednesse þat comeþ
parauenture of oure defaute. ¶ But it is lyke to a
monstre and a meruaille. It is a marvel how such evil acts can be done under the eye of an Omniscient God. ¶ How þat in þe present
syȝt of god may ben acheued and performed swiche [404]
þinges. as euery felonous man haþ conceyued in hys
þouȝt aȝeins innocent. ¶ For whiche þing oon of þi
familers not vnskilfully axed þus. If there be a God, whence proceeds evil? If there is none, whence arises good? ¶ Ȝif god is. whennes
comen wikked[e] þinges. and yif god ne is whennes [408]
comen goode þinges. but al hadde it ben leueful þat
felonous folk þat now desiren þe bloode and þe deeþ of
alle goode men. and eke of al þe senat han wilned to
gone destroien me. whom þei han seyn alwey batailen [412]
and defenden goode men and eke al þe senat. Ȝit
hadde I not desserued of þe fadres. þat is to seyne of
þe senatours þat þei scholde wilne my destruccioun.
Boethius defends the integrity of his life. ¶ Þou remembrest wele as I gesse þat whan I wolde [416]
[* fol. 6 b.] don or *seyn any þing. þou þi self alwey present
reweledest me. He defended the Senate at Verona. ¶ At þe citee of verone whan þat þe
kyng gredy of comune slauȝter. caste hym to transporten
vpon al þe ordre of þe senat. þe gilt of his real [420]
maieste of þe whiche gilt þat albyn was accused. wiþ
how grete sykernesse of peril to me defended[e] I al
þe senat. He spake only the truth, and did not boast. ¶ Þou wost wel þat I seide soþe. ne I
auaunted[e] me neuer in preysyng of my self. (Boasting lessens the pleasure of a self approving conscience.) ¶ For [424]
alwey when any wyȝt resceiueþ preciouse renoun in
auauntyng hym self of hys werkes: he amenusiþ þe
secre of hys conscience. ¶ But now þou mayst wel
seen to what ende I am comen for myne innocence. [428]
OF HIS FALSE ACCUSERS.
But as the reward of his innocence he is made to suffer the punishment due to the blackest crime. I receiue peyne of fals felonie in gerdoun of verray
vertue. ¶ And what open confessioun of felonie
had[de] euer iugis so accordaunt in cruelte. þat is to
seyne as myne accusyng haþ. ¶ Þat oþer errour of [432]
mans witte or ellys condicioun of fortune þat is vncerteyne
to al mortal folk ne submytted[e] summe of hem. þat is
to seyne þat it ne cheyned[e] summe iuge to han pitee
or compassioun. Had he been accused of a design to burn temples, massacre priests, he would have been allowed to confront his accusers. ¶ For al þouȝ I had[de] ben accused [436]
þat I wolde brenne holy houses. and strangle prestys
wiþ wicked swerde. ¶ or þat .I. had[de] grayþed deeþ
to alle goode men algatis þe sentence scholde han
punysched me present confessed or conuict. [440]
But now this is denied him, and he is proscribed and condemned to death. ¶ But now I am remewed fro þe Citee of rome almost
fyue-hundreþ þousand pas. I am wiþ outen defence dampned
to proscripcioun and to þe deeþ. for þe studie and
bountees þat I haue done to þe senat. ¶ But o wel ben [444]
þei worþi of mercye (as who seiþ nay.) þer myȝt[e] neuer
ȝit non of hem ben conuicte. Of swiche a blame as
myn is of swiche trespas myn accusours seyen ful wel þe dignitee.
BOETHIUS ACCUSED OF SORCERY.
Boethius says that his enemies accused him of sorcery. þe wiche dignite for þei wolde derken it [448]
wiþ medelyng of some felonye. þei beren me on honde
and lieden. þat I hadde polute and defouled my conscience
wiþ sacrelege. for couetise of dignite. ¶ And
certys þou þi self þat art plaunted in me chacedest oute [452]
þe sege of my corage al couetise of mortal þinges. ne
sacrilege ne had[de] no leue to han a place in me byforne
þine eyen. He affirms that he has always followed the golden maxim of Pythagoras,— ἕπου Θεῷ [Greek: hepou Theô]. ¶ For þou drouppedest euery day in myn
eeres and in my þouȝt þilk comaundement of pictogoras. [456]
þat is to seyne men schal seruen to god. and not to
goddes. ¶ Ne it was no couenaunt ne no nede to
taken helpe of þe foulest spirites. ¶ I þat þou hast
ordeyned or set in syche excellence þat [þou] makedest [460]
me lyke to god. and ouer þis þe ryȝt clene secre
chaumbre of myn house. His family and friends could clear him from all suspicion of the crime of sorcery. þat is to seye my wijf and þe
compaignie of myn honeste frendis. and my wyues
fadir as wel holy as worþi to ben reuerenced þoruȝ [464]
hys owen dedis. defenden me of al suspeccioun of syche
blame. ¶ But o malice. ¶ For þei þat accusen me
taken of þe philosophie feiþe of so grete blame. Because he has given himself up to Philosophy, his enemies accuse him of using unlawful arts. ¶ For
þei trowen þat .I. haue had affinite to malyfice or enchauntementȝ [468]
by cause þat I am replenissed and fulfilled
wiþ þi techynges. and enformed of þi maners.
¶ And þus it sufficeþ not only þat þi reuerence ne auayle
me not. but ȝif þat þou of þi fre wille raþer be blemissed [472]
wiþ myne offensioun. ¶ But certys to þe harmes þat I
haue þere bytydeþ ȝit þis encrece of harme.
BOETHIUS DEPLORES THE POPULAR CENSURE.
þat þe gessinge and þe iugement of myche folk ne loken no
þing to þe[de]sertys of þinges but only to þe auenture [476]
of fortune. Most people imagine that that only should be judged to be undertaken with prudent foresight which is crowned with success. ¶ And iugen þat only swiche þinges ben
purueied of god. whiche þat temporel welefulnesse
commendiþ. Glosa. ¶ As þus þat yif a wyȝt haue
prosperite. he is a good man and worþi to haue þat [480]
prosperite. The unfortunate lose the good opinion of the world. and who so haþ aduersite he is a wikked
man. and god haþ forsake hym. and he is worþi to
haue þat aduersite. ¶ Þis is þe opinioun of somme
folke. [* Text begins again.] *and þer of comeþ þat good gessyng. ¶ Fyrste of [484]
al þing forsakeþ wrecches certys it greueþ me to þink[e]
ryȝt now þe dyuerse sentences þat þe poeple seiþ of
me. ¶ And þus moche I seye þat þe laste charge of
contrarious fortune is þis. [* fol. 7.] *þat whan þat ony blame is [488]
laid vpon a caytif. men wenen þat he haþ deserued þat
he suffreþ. Boethius laments the loss of his dignities and reputation. ¶ And I þat am put awey from goode men
and despoiled from dignitees and defoulid of my name
by gessyng haue suffred torment for my goode dedis. [492]
The wicked, he says, sin with impunity, while the innocent are deprived of security, protection, and defence. ¶ Certys me semeþ þat I se þe felonus couines of
wikked men abounden in ioie and in gladnes. ¶ And
I se þat euery lorel shapiþ hym to fynde oute newe
fraudes forto accusen goode folke. and I se þat goode [496]
men ben ouerþrowen for drede of my peril. ¶ and
euery luxurious tourmentour dar don alle felonie vnpunissed
and ben excited þerto by ȝiftes. and innocentȝ
ne ben not oonly despoiled of sykernesse but of defence [500]
and þerfore me list to crien to god in þis manere.
247 Felest þou—Felistow
ouȝt—awht
248 art þou—artow
249 wepest þou—wepistow
spillest þou—spillestow
252 answered[e]—answerede
255 woode—wood
257 wyche—which
258 myne house þere—myn hows ther
259 desputest of[te]—desputedest ofte
260 þan—thanne
261 it and þan—both omitted
261, 262 swiche—swich
262 souȝt[e]—sowhte
263 secretys—secretȝ
my—MS. me, C. my
264 al—alle
265 gerdoun—gerdouns
266 enfourmedist—conformedest
267 mouþe—mowht
268 comunabletes—comunalitees
270 by-felle—byfille
271 in grete wisdomes—to geten wysdom
272 eke—ek
275 comune—omitted
y-left—MS. ylefte, C. yleft
276 Citiȝenis—citesenes
brynge inne—bryngen in
278 þerfore—therfor
þilk—thilke
desiryng—desired
279 put[te] furþe—putten forth
280 þo—thilke
282 put[te]—putte
283 brouȝt[e]—ne browhte
284 þe—omitted
al goodenes—alle goodnesse
comeþ—comth
287, 288 haþ—MS. haþe
289 saluacioun—sauacioun
290 þilk—thilke
hyȝt[e]—hyhte
290 conigaste—MS. coniugaste
292 ofte—ofte ek
ȝitte—omitted
294 bygon[ne]—bygunne
done—don
295 couered—MS. couerede, C. couered
296 put—MS. putte, C. put
seine—seyn
297 myne—myn
298 vnpunysched—vnpunyssed
299 myseses—myseyses
300 drow—MS. drowe, C. weth drowh
ȝitte—yit
wrong—wronge
301 rychesse—richesses
þe (2)—omitted
302 harmed eyþer—harmyd or amenused owther
303 tributis—tributȝ
suffred[e]—suffreden
304 harme—harm
305 ȝere—yer
hys—hise
305, 306, 307 corne—corn
306 schold[e] bie—sholde byen
308 But I withstod—Boece withstood (MS. withstode)
com—MS. come, C. com
311 swiche—swich
312 bouȝt[e]—bowhte
busshel—bossel
most[e] ȝeue—moste yeue
315 inplitable—vnplitable
seyn—sayen
319 ouercom—MS. ouercome, C. ouer com
320 counseiller—consoler
rychesse—rychesses
321 whyche—which
322 wolde—wolden
323 drow—MS. drowe, C. drowh
324 myche—moche
326 punischen—punisse
327 putt[e]—putte
328 yseyn—MS. yseyne
329 greet[e]—grete
330 aughte be—owhte be the
oþer—oothre
333 by þe whiche—by which
þoruȝ þe—thorw tho
335 whiche—the whiche
one—oon
somtyme—whilom
339 sumtyme—whilon
340 go—gon
her—hir
341 wiþ-outen—withowte
wolde not—nolden nat
342 defended[e]—defendedyn
by—by the
343 seyne—seyn
seyntuaries—sentuarye
344 was—omitted
comaunded[e]—comaundede
345 voided[e]—voidede
certeyne—certeyn
346 men—me
merken—marke
347 hoke of iren—hoot yren
348 þe—omitted
myȝt[e] be—myhte ben
349 þilk—thilke
350 þilk[e]—thilke
351 be—ben
seid—MS. seide, C. seyd
haþ—MS. haþe
354, 355 [Certes——asshamyd]—from C.
356 auȝt[e]—owte
haue had—han had, MS. hadde
357 axest þou—axestow
358 seyne—seyn
sauen—saue
359 desirest þou—desires thow
here—hereen
362 maked—MS. maken, C. makyd
363 demest þou—demestow
365 wold—MS. wolde, C. wold
366 seyne—seyn
367 þat—omitted
am—I am
368 be—ben
369 it—it thanne
þan—omitted
371 þilk—thilke
372 her—hir
hire—hir
þouȝ—thogh
373 or—and
seyne—seyn
374 lieth—MS. lieþe, C. lieth
377 assent[e]—assente
381 schollen—shellen
382 and—and in
385 speken—speke
of——lettres—C. omits
386 if—yif
387 had—MS. hade, C. had
388 myn—myne
389 haþ—MS. haþe, C. hath
grete—gret
what—omitted
390 some—som
391 myȝt[e] be—myhte ben
þan haue—thanne han
392 hyȝt[e]—hyhte
394 maked—ymaked
395 answered[e]—answerede
396 had[de]—hadde
397 whiche—which
sorwe—sorw
haþ—MS. haþe
witte—wit
398 schrewed[e]—shrewede
399 folies—felonies
vertues—vertu
400 had[de]—han
401 done—don
comeþ—comth
402 lyke to a—lyk a
404 syȝt—syhte
405 haþ—MS. haþe
406 innocent—innocentȝ
whiche—which
408 wikked[e]—wykkede
410 bloode—blod
411 eke—ek
412 gone—gon and
seyn—seyen
413 eke—ek
414 seyne—seyn
415 scholde—sholden
416 wele—wel
417 don—MS. done, C. doon
seyn—seyen
418 þe (1)—omitted
419 slauȝter—slawhtre
420 transporten vpon—transpor vp
422 grete—gret
defended[e]—deffendede
423 seide soþe—seye soth
424 auaunted[e]—auauntede
425 when—whan
preciouse—presious
429 in—for
430 vertue—vertu
431 had[de]—hadde
432 seyne—seyn
myne—myn
haþ—MS. haþe
433 witte—wit
vncerteyne—vncerteyn
434 al—alle
submytted[e]—submittede
435 seyne—seyn
cheyned[e]—enclinede
436 had[de]—hadde
438 wicked—wykkede
had[de]—hadde
441 almost—almest
442 þousand—MS. þousas
wiþ outen—withowte
444 done—doon
445 myȝt[e]—myhte
446 ben—be
swiche—swich
447 myn (both)—myne
swiche—whiche
seyen—sayen
448 wolde—wolden
449 some—som
beren—baren
on honde—an hand
450 polute—polut
451 sacrelege—C. has sorcerie as a gloss to sacrilege
453 al—alle
454 had[de]—hadde
byforne—byforn
455 drouppedest—droppedest
myn—myne
456 þilk—thilke
457 seyne—seyn
seruen—serue
god—godde
459 helpe—help
spirites—spirite
460 set—MS. sette, C. set
syche—swiche
[þou]—thow
461 lyke—lyk
462 house—hows
seye—seyn
463 myn—my
465 owen—owne
of al—from alle
syche—swich
467 philosophie—philosophre
feiþe—feyth
grete—gret
468 had—MS. hadde, C. had
473 myne—myn
474 þere—ther
harme—harm
475 myche—moche
476 þe[de]sertys—the desertȝ
479 Glosa—glose
480 good—MS. goode, C. good
haue—han
481 so—omitted in C.
481, 482 haþ—MS. haþe
483 haue—han
484 Fyrste—fyrst
485 al—alle
þink[e]—thinke
488 ony—any
489 laid—MS. laide, C. leyd
haþ—MS. haþe
490 put—MS. putte, C. put
491 from—of
494 abounden—habownden
gladnes—gladnesse
495 oute—owt
496 accusen—accuse
497 ben—beth
501 manere—wise
THE CRUEL CHANGES OF FORTUNE
[O STELLIFERI CONDITOR ORBIS.]
O þou maker Author of the starry sky, Thou, seated on high, turnest the spheres, and imposest laws upon the stars and planets. of þe whele þat bereþ þe sterres. whiche
þat art fastned to þi perdurable chayere. and
turnest þe heuene wiþ a rauyssyng sweighe and constreinest [504]
þe sterres to suffren þi lawe. ¶ So þat þe
mone somtyme schynyng wiþ hir ful hornes metyng
wiþ alle þe bemes of þe sonne. The sun obscures the lesser lights, and quenches even the moon’s light. ¶ Hir broþer hideþ þe
sterres þat ben lasse. and somtyme whan þe mone [508]
pale wiþ hir derke hornes approcheþ þe sonne. leesith
hir lyȝtes. Thou raisest Hesperus to usher in the shades of night, and again causest him to be the harbinger of day, whence his name Lucifer. ¶ And þat þe euesterre esperus whiche
þat in þe first[e] tyme of þe nyȝt bryngeþ furþe hir
colde arysynges comeþ eft aȝeynes hir vsed cours. and [512]
is pale by þe morwe at þe rysynge of þe sonne. and is
þan cleped lucifer. ¶ Þou restreinest þe day by schorter
dwellyng in þe tyme of colde wynter þat makeþ þe
leues to falle. ¶ Þou diuidest þe swifte tides of þe [516]
nyȝt when þe hote somer is comen. Thou controllest the changing seasons of the year. ¶ Þi myȝt attempre[þ]
þo variauntȝ sesons of þe ȝere. so þat
ȝepherus þe deboneire wynde bringeþ aȝein in þe first[e]
somer sesoun þe leues þat þe wynde þat hyȝt[e] boreas [520]
haþ reft awey in autumpne. þat is to seyne in þe laste
eende of somer. and þe sedes þat þe sterre þat hyȝt arcturus
saw ben waxen hey[e] cornes whan þe sterre
sirius eschaufeþ hym. All nature is bound by thy eternal law. ¶ Þere nis no þing vnbounde [524]
from hys olde lawe ne forleteþ hym of hys propre estat.
CONTRASTED WITH THE ORDER OF NATURE.
Why, then, leavest thou man’s actions uncontrolled? ¶ O þou gouernour gouernyng alle þinges by certeyne
ende. why refusest þou oonly to gouerne þe werkes of
men by dewe manere. Why should fickle fortune be allowed to work such mighty changes in the world? ¶ Whi suffrest þou þat slidyng [528]
fortune turneþ to grete vtter chaungynges of þinges.
so þat anoious peyne þat scholde duelly punisshe felouns
punissitȝ innocentȝ. The wicked are prosperous, while the righteous are in adversity. ¶ And folk of wikked[e]
maneres sitten in heiȝe chaiers. and anoienge folk [532]
treden and þat vnryȝtfully in þe nekkes of holy men.
¶ And vertue clere and schynyng naturely is hid in
dirke dirkenesses. and þe ryȝtful man beriþ þe blame
and þe peyne of þe felowne. ¶ Ne þe forsweryng ne [536]
þe fraude couered and kembd wiþ a fals colour ne
a-noyeþ not to schrewes. ¶ Þe whiche schrewes whan
hem lyst to vsen her strengþe þei reioisen hem to
putten vndir hem þe souerayne kynges. whiche þat [540]
poeple wiþ[outen] noumbre dreden. O thou that bindest the disagreeing elements, look upon this wretched earth, and, as thou dost govern the spacious heavens, so let the earth be firmly bound. ¶ O þou what so
euer þou be þat knyttes[t] alle bondes of þinges loke
on þise wrecched[e] erþes. we men þat ben nat a
foule party but a faire party of so grete a werke we [544]
ben turmentid in þe see of fortune. ¶ Þou gouernour
wiþdraw and restreyne þe rauyssinge flodes and fastne
and forme þise erþes stable wiþ þilke [bonde] wiþ
whiche þou gouernest þe heuene þat is so large. [548]
502 whele—whel
whiche—which
503 fastned—yfastned
chayere—chayer