Flesh is fo newefangle, with mefchance,

That we ne con in nothing have plefance
That founeth unto vertue any while.

This Phebus, which that thought upon no gile,

Difceived was for all his jolitee,

For under him another hadde fhe,

A man of litel reputation,

Nought worth to Phebus in comparison :

The more harme is: it happeth often so,

Of which ther cometh mochel harme and wo.
And fo befell whan Phebus was abfent

His wif anon hath for hire lemman fent.
Hire lemman! certes that is a knavish speche;
Foryeve it me, and that I you befeche.

The wife Plato fayth, as ye mow rede,

The word must nede accorden with the dede:
If men fhul tellen proprely a thing

17146

17150

17155

The word must cofin be to the werking.

I am a boiitous man, right thus fay i;

17160

Ther is no difference trewely

Betwix a wif that is of high degree

(If of hire body dishoneft the be)

And any poure wenche, other than this,

(If it fo be they werken both amis)

17165

But for the gentil is in eftat above

She fhal be cleped his Lady and his Love,

And for that other is a poure woman

She fhal be cleped his Wenche and his Lemman;

And God it wote, min owen dere brother!
Men lay as low that on as lith that other.

37170

Right fo betwix a titleles tiraunt And an outlawe, or any thefe erraunt, The fame I fay; ther is no difference, (To Alexander told was this fentence)

17175

But for the tyrant is of greter might

By force of meinie for to sle doun right,

And brennen hous and home, and make all plain,
Lo, therfore is he cleped a Capitain;

And for the outlawe hath but fmale meinie, 17180

And may not do so gret an harme as he,
Ne bring a contree to so gret meschiefe,
Men clepen him an Outlawe or a Thefe.
But for I am a man not textuel

I wol not tell of textes never a del;
I wol go to my Tale as I began.

17185

Whan Phebus wif had fent for hire lemman Anon they wroughten all hir luft volage. This white crowe, that heng ay in the cage, Beheld hir werke, and fayde never a word; 17190 And whan that home was come Phebus the lord This crowe fong Cuckow, cuckow, cuckow! [now? What? brid, quod Phebus, what fong fingest thou

.17173. or any thefe] Any is from conjecture only, inftead of a, the reading of all the mff. that I have confulted. The reading of ed. Urr. is-or elles a thefe-whether from authority or conjecture I cannot tell; but even as a conjecture I thould have adopted it in preference to my own if I had taken notice of it in time.

Ne were thou wont fo merily to fing,

That to my herte it was a rejoyfing

To here thy vois? Alas! what song is this?
By God, quod he, I finge not amis.
Phebus, (quod he) for all thy worthineffe,
For all thy beautee and all thy gentillesse,
For all thy fong and all thy minstralcie,

For all thy waiting, blered is thin eye
With on of litel reputation,

Not worth to thee as in comparison

17195

17200

The mountance of a gnat, fo mote I thrive,
For on thy bedde thy wif I faw him swive.

17205

What wol you more? the crowe anon him told,

By fade tokenes and by wordes bold,
How that his wif had don hire lecherie
Him to gret fhame and to gret vilanie,
And told him oft he sawe it with his eyen.
This Phebus gan awayward for to wrien;

Him thought his woful herte braft atwo;
His bowe he bent, and fet therin a flo,
And in his ire he hath his wif yflain:
This is the effect, ther is no more to fain;
For forwe of which he brake his minstralcie,
Both harpe and lute, giterne and fautrie,
And eke he brake his arwes and his bowe,
And after that thus fpake he to the crowe:

17210

17215

Traitour, quod he, with tonge of fcorpion 17220

Thou haft me brought to my confusion ›

Alas that I was wrought! why n'ere I dede!

O dere wif, o gemme of luftyhede!

That were to me fo fade and eke so trewe,

Now lieft thou ded, with face pale of hewe, 17225
Ful gilteles, that durft I fwere ywis.

O rakel hond! to do fa foule a mis:
O troubled wit, o ire reccheles!
That unavifed fmiteft gilteles:
O wantṛust! ful of false suspecion,
Wher was thy wit and thy difcretion?

O! every man beware of rakelneffe,

Ne trowe no thing withouten firong witnesse:
Smite not to fone er that ye weten why,

And beth avised wel and fikerly

17230

17233

Or

ye

do any execution

Upon your ire for suspecion.

Alas! a thousand folk hath rakel ire

Fully fordon, and brought hem in the mire.

17240

Alas! for forwe I wol myfelven fle.

And to the crowe, O falfe thefe! faid he,

I wol thee quite anon thy false tale;
Thou fong whilom like any nightingale,
Now fhalt thou, falfe thefe, thy fong forgon,
And eke thy white fethers everich on,
Ne never in all thy lif ne fhalt thou speke;
Thus fhul men on a traitour ben awreke.
Thou and thin ofspring ever fhul be blake,
Ne never fwete noise shul ye make,

17245

But ever crie ageins tempeft and rain,
In token that thurgh thee my wif is slain.

And to the crowe he ftert, and that anon,
And pulled his white fethers everich on,
And made him blak, and raft him all his fong

17250

And eke his speche, and out at dore him flong 17255 Unto the devil, which I him betake;

And for this caufe ben alle crowes blake.

Lordings, by this enfample I you pray

Beth ware, and taketh kepe what that ye fay,
Ne telleth never man in all your lif

17260

My fone, thinke on the crowe a Goddes name:

My fone, kepe wel thy tonge, and kepe thy frend; A wicked tonge is werse than a fend:

My fone, from a fende men may hem blesse: 17270 My fone, God of his endeles goodnesse

Walled a tonge with teeth, and lippes eke,

For man fhuld him avifen what he fpeke:

My fone, ful often for to mochel fpeche

Hath many a man ben spilt, as clerkes teche, 17275 But for a litel speche avisedly

Is no man fhent, to speken generally: