Classic Poem

Roget.

Whilom an Emperor, prudent and wise,
Reigned in Rome, and had sons three,
Which he had in great cherete and great price;
And when it shop so that th' infirmity
Of death, which no wight may eschew or flee,
Him threw down in his bed, he let to call
His sons, and before him they came all.

And to the first he said in this manneer:
All th'eritage which at the dying
Of my fadir, he me left, all in feere
Leave I thee: and all that of my buying
Was with my peny, all my purchasing,
My second son, bequeath I to thee.
And to the third son thus said he:

Unmoveable good right none withouten oath
Thee give I may; but I to thee devise
Jewels three, a ring, a brooch and a cloth:
With which, and thou be guied as the wise,
Thou may'st get all that ought thee suffice.
Whoso that the ring useth still to wear
Of all folks the love he shall conquer.

And whoso the brooch beareth on his breast,
It is eke of such virtue and such kind,
That think upon what thing him liketh best,
And he as blive shall it have and find.
My words, son, imprint well in mind.
The cloth eke hath a marvellous nature,
Which that shall be committed to thy cure.

Whoso sit on it, if he wish where
In all the world to been, he suddenly
Without more labour shall be there.
Son, those three jewels bequeath I
To thee, unto this effect certainly
That to study of the university
Thou go, and that I bid and charge thee.

When he had thus said, the vexation
Of death so hasted him, that his spirit
Anon forsook his habitation
In his body: death would no respite
Him yeve at all: he was of his life quit.
And buried was with such solemnity,
As fell to his imperial dignity.

Of the youngest son I tell shall,
And speak no more of his brethren two,
For with them have I not to do at all.
Thus spake the mother Jonathas unto:
Sin God hath his will of thy father do,
To thy father's will would I me conform,
And truly all his testament perform.

He three jewels, as thou knowest well,
A ring, a brooch, and a cloth thee bequeath,
Whose virtues he thee told every deal,
Or that he pass'd hence and yalde up the breath.
O good God, his departing, his death
Full grievously sticketh unto mine heart,
But suffered mot been, all how sore it smart.

In that case women have such heaviness,
That it not lieth in my cunning aright
To tell of so great sorrow the excess:
But wise women can take it light,
And in short while put unto the flight
All sorrow and woe, and catch again comfort:
Now to my tale make I my resort.

Thy father's will, my son, as I said ere,
Will I perform; have here the ring and go
To study anon, and when that thou art there,
As thy father thee bade, do even so,
And as thou wilt my blessing have also.
She unto him as-swythe took the ring
And bade him keep it well for anything.

He went unto the study general
Where he gat love enough, and acquaintance
Right good and friendly, the ring causing all;
And on a day to him befell this chance
With a woman, a morsel of pleasance,
By the streets of the university
As he was in his walking, met he.

And right as blive he had with her a tale,
And therewithal sore in her love he brent;
Gay, fresh and piked was she to the sale,
For to that end and to that intent
She thither came, and both forth they went,
And he a pistle rowned in her ear,
Nat wot I what; for I ne came nat there.

She was his paramour shortly to say.
This man to folkes all was so leefe,
That they him gave abundance of money;
He feasted folk, and stood at high boncheefe;
Of the lack of good he felt no grief
All whiles the ring he with him had;
But failing it his friendship 'gan sad.

His paramour, which that ycalled was
Fellicula, marvelled right greatly
Of the dispences of this Jonathas,
Sin she no peny at all with him sy;
And on a night as there she lay him by
In the bed, thus she to him spake and said,
And this petition assoile him pray'd:

O reverent sir, unto whom, quoth she,
Obey I would aye with heart's humbleness,
Since that ye han had my virginity,
You I beseech of your high gentleness,
Telleth me whence com'th the good and richesse
That ye with feasten folk, and han no store,
By ought I see can, ne gold, ne tresore.

If I tell it, quoth he, paraventure
Thou wilt discover it, and out it publish;
Such is woman's inconstant nature,
They cannot keep counsel worth a rish:
Better is my tongue keep than to wish
That I had kept close that is gone at large,
And repentance is thing that I mote charge.

Nay, good sir, quoth she, holdeth me not suspect,
Doubteth nothing, I can be right secree.
Well worthy were it me to been abject
From all good company, if I, quoth she,
Unto you should so mistake me.
Be not adread your counsel me to show.
Well, said he, thus it is at words few:

My father the ring, which that thou may'st see
On my finger, me at his dying day
Bequeath'd, which this virtue and property
Hath, that the love of men he shall have aye
That weareth it, and there shall be no nay
Of what thing that him liketh ask and crave,
But with good will he shall as blive it have.