Confessio Amantis; Or, Tales of the Seven Deadly Sins. John Gower

Of hem of Grece and undertake,

       And therupon thei founde a weie,

       Wher strengthe myhte noght aweie, 1110

       That sleihte scholde helpe thanne;

       And of an ynche a large spanne

       Be colour of the pees thei made,

       And tolden how thei weren glade

       Of that thei stoden in acord;

       And for it schal ben of record,

       Unto the kyng the Gregois seiden,

       Be weie of love and this thei preiden,

       As thei that wolde his thonk deserve,

       A Sacrifice unto Minerve, 1120

       The pes to kepe in good entente,

       Thei mosten offre er that thei wente.

       The kyng conseiled in this cas

       Be Anthenor and Eneas

       Therto hath yoven his assent:

       So was the pleine trowthe blent

       Thurgh contrefet Ipocrisie

       Of that thei scholden sacrifie.

       The Greks under the holinesse

       Anon with alle besinesse 1130

       Here Hors of Bras let faire dihte,

       Which was to sen a wonder sihte;

       For it was trapped of himselve,

       And hadde of smale whieles twelve,

       Upon the whiche men ynowe

       With craft toward the toun it drowe,

       And goth glistrende ayein the Sunne.

       Tho was ther joie ynowh begunne,

       For Troie in gret devocioun

       Cam also with processioun 1140

       Ayein this noble Sacrifise

       With gret honour, and in this wise

       Unto the gates thei it broghte.

       Bot of here entre whan thei soghte,

       The gates weren al to smale;

       And therupon was many a tale,

       Bot for the worschipe of Minerve,

       To whom thei comen forto serve,

       Thei of the toun, whiche understode

       That al this thing was do for goode, 1150

       For pes, wherof that thei ben glade,

       The gates that Neptunus made

       A thousend wynter ther tofore,

       Thei have anon tobroke and tore;

       The stronge walles doun thei bete,

       So that in to the large strete

       This Hors with gret solempnite

       Was broght withinne the Cite,

       And offred with gret reverence,

       Which was to Troie an evidence 1160

       Of love and pes for everemo.

       The Gregois token leve tho

       With al the hole felaschipe,

       And forth thei wenten into Schipe

       And crossen seil and made hem yare,

       Anon as thogh thei wolden fare:

       Bot whan the blake wynter nyht

       Withoute Mone or Sterre lyht

       Bederked hath the water Stronde,

       Al prively thei gon to londe 1170

       Ful armed out of the navie.

       Synon, which mad was here aspie

       Withinne Troie, as was conspired,

       Whan time was a tokne hath fired;

       And thei with that here weie holden,

       And comen in riht as thei wolden,

       Ther as the gate was tobroke.

       The pourpos was full take and spoke:

       Er eny man may take kepe,

       Whil that the Cite was aslepe, 1180

       Thei slowen al that was withinne,

       And token what thei myhten wynne

       Of such good as was sufficant,

       And brenden up the remenant.

       And thus cam out the tricherie,

       Which under fals Ypocrisie

       Was hid, and thei that wende pees

       Tho myhten finde no reles

       Of thilke swerd which al devoureth.

       Fulofte and thus the swete soureth, 1190

       Whan it is knowe to the tast:

       He spilleth many a word in wast

       That schal with such a poeple trete;

       For whan he weneth most beyete,

       Thanne is he schape most to lese.

       And riht so if a womman chese

       Upon the wordes that sche hiereth

       Som man, whan he most trewe appiereth,

       Thanne is he forthest fro the trowthe:

       Bot yit fulofte, and that is rowthe, 1200

       Thei speden that ben most untrewe

       And loven every day a newe,

       Wherof the lief is after loth

       And love hath cause to be wroth.

       Bot what man that his lust desireth

       Of love, and therupon conspireth

       With wordes feigned to deceive,

       He schal noght faile to receive

       His peine, as it is ofte sene.

       Forthi, my Sone, as I thee mene, 1210

       It sit the wel to taken hiede

       That thou eschuie of thi manhiede

       Ipocrisie and his semblant,

       That thou ne be noght deceivant,

       To make a womman to believe

       Thing which is noght in thi bilieve:

       For in such feint Ipocrisie

       Of love is al the tricherie,

       Thurgh which love is deceived ofte;

       For feigned semblant is so softe, 1220

       Unethes love may be war.

       Forthi, my Sone, as I wel dar,

       I charge thee to fle that vice,

       That many a womman hath mad nice;

       Bot lok thou dele noght withal.

       Iwiss, fader, nomor I schal.

       Now, Sone, kep that thou hast swore:

       For this that thou hast herd before

       Is seid the ferste point of Pride:

       And next upon that other side, 1230

       To schryve and speken overthis

       Touchende of Pride, yit ther is

       The point seconde, I thee behote,

       Which Inobedience is hote.

       This vice of Inobedience

       Ayein the reule of conscience

       Al that is humble he desalloweth,

       That he toward his god ne boweth

       After the lawes of his heste.

       Noght as a man