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As he rod with his compainie Nyh to the strondes of Lubie, 410 Ther myhte thei no drinke finde Of water nor of other kinde, So that himself and al his host Were of defalte of drinke almost Destruid, and thanne Bachus preide To Jupiter, and thus he seide O hihe fader, that sest al, To whom is reson that I schal Beseche and preie in every nede, Behold, mi fader, and tak hiede 420 This wofull thurst that we ben inne To staunche, and grante ous forto winne, And sauf unto the contre fare, Wher that oure lusti loves are Waitende upon oure hom cominge.

600 Of Elementz the propretes Hou that they stonden be degres, As I have told, nou myht thou hiere, Mi goode Sone, al the matiere Of Erthe, of water, Air and fyr.

And thei here grete wordes blowe Upon her wrongful dedes eke And who that wole himself noght meke To pes, and list no reson take, Men sein reson him wol forsake For in the multitude of men Is noght the strengthe, for with ten 7390 It hath be sen in trew querele Ayein an hundred false dele, And had the betre of goddes grace.

To knowe what it mene may, Til it be come thei abide Than sen thei 117-202 Labs stonde on every side, Endlong the schipes bord to schewe, Of Penonceals a riche rewe.

2350 Thei knelen alle and with o vois The king thei thonken of this chois And after that thei up arise, And gon aside and hem avise, And ate laste thei acorde Wherof her tale to recorde, To what issue thei be falle, A kniht schal speke for hem alle.

This lord thenkth al his world forlore, Bot if the king wol don him grace He waiteth time, he waiteth place, Him thoghte his herte wol tobreke, Til he mai to this maide speke 1770 And to hir fader ek also For mariage and it fell so, That al was do riht as he thoghte, His pourpos to an ende he broghte, Sche weddeth him as for hire lord Thus be thei alle of on acord.

Thus mai ye knowen be this skile That no Ravine don I wile Ayein hir will be such a weie Bot while I live, I wol obeie Abidinge on hire courtesie, If eny merci wolde hir plie.

And al this dede he for a wonder, That whanne a man for peine cride, The Bole of bras, which gapeth wyde, 3320 It scholde seme as thogh it were A belwinge in a mannes Ere, And noght the criinge of a man.

And thanne he axede hem anon, Whi thei ne hadden write so Thei tolden, so thei hadden do.

Whan thei to reste a while him preide, Out of his lond he hem congeide And so fell the dissencion, Which after was destruccion Of that Cite, as men mai hiere Bot that is noght to mi matiere.

For it befell that ilke throwe 3070 At Troie, wher the Siege lay Upon the cause of Menelay And of his queene dame Heleine, The Gregois hadden mochel peine Alday to fihte and to assaile.

510 Wher lawe lacketh, errour groweth, He is noght wys who that ne troweth, For it hath proeved ofte er this And thus the comun clamour is In every lond wher poeple dwelleth, And eche in his compleignte telleth How that the world is al miswent, And ther upon his jugement Yifth every man in sondry wise.

140 And if it nedes to betyde, That I in compainie abyde, Wher as I moste daunce and singe The hovedance and carolinge, Or forto go the newefot, I mai noght wel heve up mi fot, If that sche be noght in the weie For thanne is al mi merthe aweie, And waxe anon of thoght so full, Wherof mi limes ben so dull, 150 I mai unethes gon the pas.

1620 The lord which of the cite was, Whos name is Athenagoras, Was there, and seide he wolde se What Schip it is, and who thei be That ben therinne and after sone, Whan that he sih it was to done, His 117-202 New Questions barge was for him arraied, And he goth forth and hath assaied.

Ne haste noght thin oghne sorwe, Mi Sone, and tak this in thi witt, He hath noght lost that wel abitt.

Tho lay ther certein wode cleft, Of which the pieces nou and eft Sche made hem in the pettes wete, And put hem in the fyri hete, And tok the brond with al the blase, And thries sche began to rase 4090 Aboute Eson, ther as he slepte And eft with water, which sche kepte, Sche made a cercle aboute him thries, And eft with fyr of sulphre twyes Ful many an other thing sche dede, Which is noght writen in this stede.

650 Which Ring bar of Oblivion The name, and that was be resoun That where it on a finger sat, Anon his love he so foryat, As thogh he hadde it nevere knowe And so it fell that ilke throwe, Whan Tharbis hadde it on hire hond, No knowlechinge of him sche fond, Bot al was clene out of memoire, As men mai rede in his histoire 660 And thus he wente quit away, That nevere after that ilke day Sche thoghte that ther was such on Al was foryete and overgon.

Mi goode Sone, and for thi lore I woll thee telle what is more, 3520 So that thou schalt the vices knowe For whan thei be to thee full knowe, Thou miht hem wel the betre eschuie.

And ek riht in the selve kinde In grete Cites men mai finde This lusti folk, that make it gay, And waite upon the haliday In cherches and 117-202 Braindump Pdf in Menstres eke Thei gon the wommen forto seke, 7060 And wher that such on goth aboute, Tofore the faireste of the route, Wher as thei sitten alle arewe, Ther wol he most his bodi schewe, His croket kembd and theron set A Nouche with a chapelet, Or elles on of grene leves, Which late com out of the greves, Al for he scholde seme freissh.

Bot for men sein, and soth it is, That who that al of wisdom writ It dulleth ofte a mannes wit To him that schal it aldai rede, For thilke cause, if that ye rede, I wolde go the middel weie And wryte a Lpi 117-202 Self Study bok betwen the tweie, Somwhat of lust, somewhat of lore, That of the lasse or of the more 20 Som man mai lyke of that I wryte And for that fewe men endite In oure englissh, I thenke make A bok for Engelondes sake, The yer sextenthe of kyng Richard.

These elementz ben creatures, So ben these hevenly figures, Wherof mai wel be justefied That thei mai noght be deified And who that takth awey thonour Which due is to the creatour, And yifth it to the creature, He doth to gret a forsfaiture.

And he no lengere wolde duelle, Bot forth anon upon the tale The Ston he profreth to the sale And riht as he himself it sette, The jueler anon forth fette The gold and made his paiement, Therof was no delaiement.

Lo, thus sche cride and thus sche preide, Til 117-202 Test Prep ate laste a vois hir seide, That if sche wolde for his sake The maladie soffre and take, 1930 And deie hirself, he scholde live.

I am al redy forto bere Mi peine, and also to forbere What thing that ye wol noght allowe For who is bounden, he mot bowe.

Bot yet al only he ne streccheth His reule upon religioun, Bot next to that condicioun In suche as clepe hem holy cherche It scheweth ek how he 117-202 Test Prep can werche Among tho wyde furred hodes, To geten hem the worldes goodes.

His climat is in Orient, Wher that he is most violent.

This ender day, as I gan fare 7400 To hunte unto the grete hert, Which was tofore myn houndes stert, And every man went on his syde Him to poursuie, and I to ryde Began the chace, and soth to seie, Withinne a while out of mi weie I rod, and nyste where I was.

Hire Ere unto his word sche leide, 1190 Bot forther made sche no chiere.

This vice veine gloire is hote, Wherof, my Sone, I thee behote To trete and speke in such a wise, That thou thee myht the betre avise.

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1680 For in proverbe and in probleme Sche spak, and bad he scholde deme In many soubtil question Bot he for no suggestioun Which toward him sche couthe stere, He wolde noght o word ansuere, Bot as a madd man ate laste His heved wepende awey he caste, And half in wraththe he bad hire go.

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, Lpi 117-202 Self Study 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.

A king whilom was yong and wys, The which sette of his wit gret pris.

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1280 Upon sondri creacion Stant sondri operacion, Som worcheth this, som worcheth that The fyr is hot in his astat And brenneth what he mai atteigne, The water mai the fyr restreigne, The which is cold and moist also.

Toward this Signe into his hous Comth Jupiter the glorious, 1230 And Venus ek with him acordeth To duellen, as the bok recordeth.

Achilles herde his moder telle, And wiste noght the cause why And natheles ful buxomly 3030 He was redy to that sche bad, Wherof his moder was riht glad, To Lichomede and forth thei wente.

And thei him axe cause why Bot he the sothe noght forthi 2150 Ne wiste, and ther was sorwe tho For it stod thilke tyme so, This trompe was of such sentence, That therayein no resistence Thei couthe ordeine be no weie, That he ne mot algate deie, Bot if so that he may pourchace To gete his liege lordes grace.

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Sey now forth what you list to me, For I wol only do be you.

For be the goddes alle above I wolde it mihte so befalle, That I al one scholde hem alle 2410 Supplante, and welde hire at mi wille.

Bot this I telle thee therfore, Thou miht upon my beneicoun Wel haten the condicioun 940 Of tho janglers, as thou me toldest, Bot furthermor, of that thou woldest Hem hindre in eny other wise, Such Hate is evere to despise.

Bot as men sein that frele is youthe, With leisir and continuance This Mayde fell upon a chance, That love hath mad him a querele Ayein hire youthe freissh and frele, That malgre wher sche wole or noght, Sche mot with al hire hertes thoght 840 To love and to his lawe obeie And that sche schal ful sore abeie.

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7330 Bot he that was withoute fere, Hector, among the lordes there His tale tolde in such a wise, And seide, Lordes, ye ben wise, Ye knowen this als wel as I, Above all othre most worthi Stant nou in Grece the manhode Of worthinesse and of knihthode For who so wole it wel agrope, To hem belongeth al Europe, 7340 Which is the thridde parti evene Of al the world under the hevene And we be bot of folk a fewe.

Thus sche, which whilom hadde leve To duelle in chambre, mot beleve In wodes and on helles bothe, For such brocage as wyves lothe, 4650 Which doth here lordes hertes change And love in other place strange.

2090 And so forth thanne upon a day Al openly in good arai To themperour thei hem presente, And tolden it was here entente To duellen under his servise.

For he with him hath evere fyve Servantz that helpen him to stryve The ferst of hem Malencolie Is cleped, which in compaignie An hundred times in an houre Wol as an angri beste loure, 30 And noman wot the cause why.

And every man began to seie To Paris and his felaschipe Al that thei couthen of worschipe Was non so litel man in Troie, That he ne made merthe and joie Of that Paris hath wonne Heleine.

Thei wepte and made mochel mone, 2180 Here Her hangende aboute here Eres With sobbinge and with sory teres This lord goth thanne an humble pas, That whilom proud and noble was Wherof the Cite sore afflyhte, Of hem that sihen thilke syhte And natheless al openly With such wepinge and with such cri Forth with hise children and his wif He goth to preie for his lif.

Sirenes of a wonder kynde Ben Monstres, as the bokes tellen, And in the grete Se thei duellen Of body bothe and of visage Lik unto wommen of yong age Up fro the Navele on hih thei be, And doun benethe, as men mai se, 490 Thei bere of fisshes the figure.

Wher love is lord of the corage, Him thenketh longe er that he spede Bot ate laste unto the dede The time is come, and in her wise With gret offrende and sacrifise Thei wedde and make a riche feste, And every thing which was honeste Withinnen house and ek withoute It was so don, that al aboute 960 Of gret worschipe, of gret noblesse Ther cride many a man largesse Unto the lordes hihe and loude The knyhtes that ben yonge and proude, Thei jouste ferst and after daunce.

His wif, as it was goddes grace, Which was professed in the place, As sche that was Abbesse there, Unto his tale hath leid hire Ere 1850 Sche Lpi 117-202 Self Study knew the vois and the visage, For pure joie as in a rage Sche strawhte unto him al at ones, And fell aswoune upon the stones, Wherof the temple flor was paved.

Nou schalt thou hiere a wonder wyle 2980 This queene, which the moder was Of Achilles, upon this cas Hire Sone, as he a Maiden were, Let clothen in the same gere Which longeth unto wommanhiede And he was yong and tok non hiede, Bot soffreth al that sche him dede.

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Bot for men sein that nyht hath 000-032 Test Answers reste, The king bethoghte him al that nyht, And erli, whan the dai was lyht, He tok conseil of this matiere And thei acorde in this manere, 7300 That he withouten eny lette A certein time scholde sette Of Parlement to ben avised And in the wise it was devised, Of parlement he sette a day, And that was in the Monthe of Maii.

And sche, that hiereth how it is, 3190 Hire conseil yaf and seide tho Mi fader, sithen it is so, That ye can se non other weie, Bot that ye moste nedes deie, I wolde preie of you a thing Let me go with you to the king, And ye schull make him understonde How ye, my wittes forto fonde, Have leid your ansuere upon me And telleth him, in such degre 3200 Upon my EC1-350 Testing word ye wole abide To lif or deth, what so betide.

Thus was he sauf with his navie, This wise king, thurgh governance.

This Messager, whan he awok, And wiste nothing how it was, Aros and rod the grete pas And tok this lettre to the king.

The king ansuerde to him thus, And seide hou such a yifte passeth His povere astat and thanne he lasseth, And axeth 117-202 Self Study bot a litel peny, If that the king wol yive him eny.

Lo, how thei feignen chalk for chese, For though thei speke and teche wel, Thei don hemself therof no 117-202 Actual Questions del For if the wolf come in the weie, Her gostly Staf is thanne aweie, 420 Wherof thei scholde her flock defende Bot if the povere Schep offende In eny thing, thogh it be lyte, They ben al redy forto smyte And thus, how evere that thei tale, The strokes falle upon the smale, And upon othre that ben grete Hem lacketh herte forto bete.

Mi Sone, if reson be wel peised, Ther mai no vertu ben unpreised Ne vice non be set in pris.

And thanne ferst he hath enoignted With sondri herbes that figure, And therupon he gan conjure, So that thurgh his enchantement This ladi, which was innocent And wiste nothing of this guile, Mette, as sche slepte thilke while, 1980 Hou fro the hevene cam a lyht, Which al hir chambre made lyht And as sche loketh to and fro, Sche sih, hir thoghte, a dragoun tho, Whos scherdes schynen as the Sonne, And hath his softe pas begonne With al the chiere that he may Toward the bedd ther as sche lay, Til he cam to the beddes side.

The king, which understod here wille And knew here conseil that was trewe, Began ayein his sorwe newe 1100 With pitous herte, and thus to seie It is al reson that ye preie.

For this I finde of Hanybal, That he of Romeins in a dai, Whan he hem fond out of arai, 2200 So gret a multitude slowh, That of goldringes, whiche he drowh Of gentil handes that ben dede, Buisshelles fulle thre, I rede, He felde, and made a bregge also, That he mihte over Tibre go Upon the corps that dede were Of the Romeins, whiche he slowh there.

2960 Envie, which is loveles, And Pride, which is laweles, With such tempeste made him erre, That charite goth out of herre So that upon misgovernance Ayein Lowyz the king of France He tok querelle of his oultrage, And seide he scholde don hommage Unto the cherche bodily.

And whanne I se that I mot nede Departen, I departe, and thanne With al myn herte I curse and banne That evere slep was mad for yhe For, as me thenkth, I mihte dryhe Withoute slep to waken evere, So that I scholde noght dissevere Fro hire, in whom is al my liht And thanne I curse also the nyht 2840 With al the will of mi corage, And seie, Awey, thou blake ymage, Which of thi derke cloudy face Makst al the worldes lyht deface, And causest unto slep a weie, Be which I mot nou gon aweie Out of mi ladi compaignie.

And thus therfore The Philosophre upon this thing Writ and conseileth to a king, 4560 That he the surfet of luxure Schal tempre and reule of such mesure, Which be to kinde sufficant And ek to reson acordant, So that the lustes ignorance Be cause of no misgovernance, Thurgh which that he be overthrowe, As he that wol no reson knowe.

And thus me thoghte, in sondri place 2780 Of hem that walken up and doun Ther was diverse opinioun And for a while so it laste, Til that Cupide to the laste, Forth with his moder full avised, Hath determined and devised Unto what point he wol descende.

At hom if that a man wol wone, This Fievere is thanne of comun wone Most grevous in a mannes yhe For thanne he makth him tote and pryhe, 470 Wher so as evere his love 117-202 Self Study go Sche schal noght with hir litel too Misteppe, bot he se it al.

Tho goddes be yit cleped thus, Orus, Typhon and Isirus Thei were brethren alle thre, And the goddesse in hir degre 800 Here Soster was and Ysis hyhte, LPI Level 2 Exam 202 117-202 Whom Isirus forlai be nyhte And hield hire after as his wif.

He thoghte ferst upon his lif, And after that upon his wif, 3130 Upon his children ek also, Of whiche he hadde dowhtres tuo The yongest of hem hadde of age Fourtiene yer, and of visage Sche was riht fair, and of stature Lich to an hevenely figure, And of manere and goodli speche, Thogh men wolde alle Londes seche, Thei scholden noght have founde hir like.

Justice which doth equite 3130 Is dredfull, for he noman spareth Bot in the lond wher Pite fareth The king mai nevere faile of love, For Pite thurgh the grace above, So as the Philosphre affermeth, His regne in good astat confermeth.

1000 And it fell thilke time thus Ther was a king, the which Namplus Was hote, and he a Sone hadde, At Troie which the Gregois ladde, As he that was mad Prince of alle, Til that fortune let him falle His name was Palamades.

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Lo, thus a kinges myht, seith he, So as his reson can argue, Is strengest and of most value.

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Forthi, mi Sone, schrif thee hier, If thou hast ben a Raviner 5530 Of love.

And tho the world began of Bras, And that of selver ended was 700 Bot for the time thus it laste, Til it befell that ate laste This king, whan that his day was come, With strengthe of deth was overcome.

Bot Slowthe mai no profit winne, 250 Bot he mai singe in his karole How Latewar cam to the Dole, Wher he no good receive mihte.

1730 Bot this I se, on daies nou The blinde god, I wot noght hou, Cupido, which of love is lord, He set the thinges in discord, That thei that lest to love entende Fulofte he wole hem yive and sende Most of his grace and thus I finde That he that scholde go behinde, Goth many a time ferr tofore So wot I noght riht wel therfore, 1740 On whether bord that I schal seile.

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What man hath that complexion, Full of ymaginacion 410 Of dredes and of wrathful thoghtes, He fret himselven al to noghtes.

With that sche swouneth now and eft, And evere wissheth after deth, So that welnyh hire lacketh breth.

If that thei finde here love there, Thei stonde and tellen in hire Ere, 7040 And axe of god non other grace, Whyl thei ben in that holi place Bot er thei gon som avantage Ther wol thei have, and som pilage Of goodli word or of beheste, Or elles thei take ate leste Out of hir hand or ring or glove, So nyh the weder thei wol love, As who seith sche schal noght foryete, Nou I this tokne of hire have gete 7050 Thus halwe thei the hihe feste.

So nedeth noght that I schal crave 3290 The Sonnes Carte forto tarie, Ne yit the Mone, that sche carie Hire cours along upon the hevene, For I am noght the more in evene Towardes love in no degree Bot in mi slep yit thanne I se Somwhat in swevene of that me liketh, Which afterward min herte entriketh, Whan that I finde it otherwise.

2710 And in this wise thei acorde, The cause was Misericorde The lordes dede here obeissance To Thelaphus, and pourveance Was mad so that he was coroned And thus was merci reguerdoned, Which he to Theucer dede afore.

And forto lokyn ovyrmore, Wher of the poeple pleigneth sore, 3030 Toward the lawis of oure lond, Men sein that trouthe hath broke his bond And with brocage is goon aweie, So that no man can se the weie Wher forto fynde rightwisnesse.

I may noght strecche up to the hevene Min hand, ne setten al in evene This world, which evere is in balance It stant noght in my sufficance So grete thinges to compasse, Bot I mot lete it overpasse And treten upon othre thinges.

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The hihe makere of nature Hire hath visited in a throwe, That it was openliche knowe Sche was with childe be the king, Wherof above al other thing 920 He thonketh god and was riht glad.

Bot destine, which schal betide, Befell that ilke time so, Thelogonus knew nothing tho What man it was that to him caste, And while his oghne spere laste, With al the signe therupon He caste unto the king anon, And smot him with a dedly wounde.

The lordes ben togedre come This Demephon and Athemas Here pourpos tolden, as it was Thei sieten alle stille and herde, Was non bot Nestor hem ansuerde.

Mi Sone, as thou art amerous, Tell if thou farst of love so.

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Nou have I of this nyhtingale, Which erst was cleped Philomene, Told al that evere I wolde mene, 6000 Bothe of hir forme and of hir note, Wherof men mai the storie note.

1940 It were a travail forto preche The feith of Crist, as forto teche The folk Paiene, it wol noght be Bot every Prelat holde his See With al such ese as he mai gete Of lusti drinke and lusti mete, Wherof the bodi fat and full Is unto gostli labour dull And slowh to handle thilke plowh.

And forto tellen over this Hir Monthe, thou schalt understonde, Whan every feld hath corn in honde And many a man his bak hath plied, Unto this Signe is Augst applied.

And forto loke on other side Hou that a gentil man is bore, Adam, which alle was tofore With Eve his wif, as of hem tuo, Al was aliche gentil tho So that of generacion To make declaracion, Ther mai no gentilesce be.

Mi fader, therof hiere I wolde.

Of foure daies time I sette, That ye this thing no longer lette, So that your lif be noght forsfet.

And he seith no Bot if ther mihte a man aryse Fro deth to lyve in such a wise, To tellen hem hou that it were, He seide hou thanne of pure fere Thei scholden wel be war therby.

Lo, seith the king, nou mai ye se That ther is no defalte in me Forthi miself I wole aquyte, And bereth ye youre oghne wyte Of that fortune hath you refused.

And thus thou miht wel understonde, Mi Sone, if thou art such in love, Thou miht noght come at thin above Of that thou woldest wel achieve.

And whan he sih and wiste it wel, That he be strengthe wan no LPIC-2 117-202 Self Study del, Thanne ate laste he caste a 70-643 Dumps Pass4sure wyle This worthi poeple to beguile, And tok with hem a feigned pes, Which scholde lasten endeles, So as he seide in wordes wise, Bot he thoghte al in other wise.

Bot how so that his will was good Toward the Pope and his Franchise, Yit hath it proved other wise, To se the worchinge of the dede For in Cronique this I rede 117-202 Pdf Download Anon as he hath mad the yifte, A vois was herd on hih the lifte, Of which al Rome was adrad, And seith To day is venym schad 3490 In holi cherche of temporal, Which medleth with the spirital.


980 This lettre, as thou hast herd devise, Was contrefet in such a wise That noman scholde it aperceive And sche, which thoghte to deceive, It leith wher sche that other tok.

If thou the vices lest to knowe, Mi Sone, it hath noght ben unknowe, Fro ferst that men the swerdes grounde, That ther nis on upon this grounde, A vice forein fro the lawe, Wherof that many a good felawe Hath be distraght be sodein chance And yit to kinde no plesance It doth, bot wher he most achieveth His pourpos, most to kinde he grieveth, 10 As he which out of conscience Is enemy to pacience And is be name on of the Sevene, Which ofte hath set this world unevene, And cleped is the cruel Ire, Whos herte is everemore on fyre To speke amis and to do bothe, For his servantz ben evere wrothe.

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Bot somwhat of his aventures, Which schal to mi matiere acorde, To thee, mi Sone, I wol recorde.

Bot he which alle thing mai schilde, Thre yer, til that sche cam to londe, Hire Schip to stiere hath take in honde, And in Northumberlond aryveth And happeth thanne that sche dryveth Under a Castel with the flod, Which upon Humber banke stod 720 And was the kynges oghne also, The which Allee was cleped tho, A Saxon and a worthi knyht, Bot he believed noght ariht.

Lo, nou it is somdel aboght, And bet it schal, for of thi dede The world schal evere singe and rede In remembrance of thi defame For thou to love hast do such schame, That it schal nevere be foryete.