For trewely ye have as myrie a stevene, As any aungel [hath], that is in hevene; Therwith ye han in musyk moore feelynge Than hadde Boece, or any that kan synge. My lord youre fader-God his soule blesse! And eek your mooder, of hire gentillesse, Han in myn hous y-been, to my greet ese; And certes, sire, ful fayn wolde I yow plese. But for men speke of syngyng, I wol seye, So moote I brouke1 wel myne eyen He moste wynke, so loude he wolde cryen, And eek he was of swich discrecioun I have wel rad in daun Burnel the Asse,2 This Chauntecleer hise wynges gan to Allas, his wyf ne roghte nat of dremes! And in thy servyce dide al his poweer, dye? O Gaufred, deere maister soverayn, That, whan thy worthy kyng Richard was slayn With shot, compleynedest his deeth so soore, Why ne hadde I now thy sentence and thy loore, The Friday for to chide, as diden ye? • flatterer The Book of Ecclesiasticus in the Apocrypha. 7 throat 8 Geoffrey de Vinsauf, in whose art of poetry, 530 the Nova Poetria, there is an artificial complaint against Friday, the day on which Richard I was wounded. Chaucer is making fun of it. 550 O woful hennes, right so criden ye, Withouten gilt this Nero hath hem slayn. This sely wydwe, and eek hir doghtres Herden thise hennes crie and maken wo, 560 Ha, ha, the fox!" and after hym they ran, And eek with staves many another man; Ranne Colle oure dogge, and Talbot, and Gerland, 1 drawn Hir thoughte it swal so soore about hir herte, That nedely som word hire moste asterte.3 Quod she; "to thee I telle it, and namo. Myn housbonde hath longe asses erys two! I 20 woman to meet |