# The Tale of Florent ## expand\_more *Use the glossary in* The Riverside Chaucer *for words not glossed in the margins; see also[ a note on Gower's spellings](/pages/note-gowers-spelling).* ***Confessio Amantis*, Book I, 1407-1882** Sort **1410 1415 1420 1425 1430 1435 1440 1445 1450 1455 1460 1465 1470 1475 1480 1485 1490 1495 1500 1505 1510 1515 1520 1525 1530 1535 1540 1545 1550 1555 1560 1565 1570 1575 1580 1585 1590 1595 1600 1605 1610 1615 1620 1625 1630 1635 1640 1645 1650 1655 1660 1665 1670 1675 1680 1685 1690 1695 1700 1705 1710 1715 1720 1725 1730 1735 1740 1745 1750 1755 1760 1765 1770 1775 1780 1785 1790 1795 1800 1805 1810 1815 1820 1825 1830 1835 1840 1845 1850 1855 1860 1865 1870 1875 1880** Ther was whilom be daies olde A worthi knyht, and as men tolde He was Nevoeu to th'emperour And of his Court a Courteour: Wifles he was, Florent he hihte, He was a man that mochel myhte, Of armes he was desirous, Chivalerous and amorous, And for the fame of worldes speche, Strange aventures forto seche, He rod the Marches al aboute. And fell a time, as he was oute, Fortune, which may every thred Tobreke and knette of mannes sped, Schop, as this knyht rod in a pas, That he be strengthe take was, And to a Castell thei him ladde, Wher that he fewe frendes hadde: For so it fell that ilke stounde That he hath with a dedly wounde Feihtende his oghne hondes slain Branchus, which to the Capitain Was Sone and Heir, wherof ben wrothe The fader and the moder bothe. That knyht Branchus was of his hond The worthieste of al his lond, And fain thei wolden do vengance Upon Florent, bot remembrance That thei toke of his worthinesse Of knyhthod and of gentilesse, And how he stod of cousinage To th'emperour, made hem assuage, And dorsten noght slen him for fere: In gret desputeisoun thei were Among hemself, what was the beste. Ther was a lady, the slyheste Of alle that men knewe tho, So old sche myhte unethes go, And was grantdame unto the dede: And sche with that began to rede, And seide how sche wol bringe him inne, That sche schal him to dethe winne Al only of his oghne grant, Thurgh strengthe of verray covenant Withoute blame of eny wiht. Anon sche sende for this kniht, And of hire Sone sche alleide The deth, and thus to him sche seide: "Florent, how so thou be to wyte Of Branchus deth, men schal respite As now to take vengement, Be so thou stonde in juggement Upon certein condicioun, That thou unto a questioun Which I schal axe schalt ansuere; And over this thou schalt ek swere, That if thou of the sothe faile, Ther schal non other thing availe, That thou ne schalt thi deth receive. And for men schal thee noght deceive, That thou therof myht ben avised, Thou schalt have day and tyme assised And leve saufly forto wende, Be so that at thi daies ende Thou come ayein with thin avys. This knyht, which worthi was and wys, This lady preith that he may wite, And have it under Seales write, What questioun it scholde be For which he schal in that degree Stonde of his lif in jeupartie. With that sche feigneth compaignie, And seith: "Florent, on love it hongeth Al that to myn axinge longeth: What alle wommen most desire This wole I axe, and in th'empire Wher as thou hast most knowlechinge Tak conseil upon this axinge." Florent this thing hath undertake, The day was set, the time take, Under his seal he wrot his oth, In such a wise and forth he goth Hom to his Emes court ayein; To whom his aventure plein He tolde, of that him is befalle. And upon that thei weren alle The wiseste of the lond asent, Bot natheles of on assent Thei myhte noght acorde plat, On seide this, an othre that. After the disposicioun Of naturel complexioun To som womman it is plesance, That to an other is grevance; Bot such a thing in special, Which to hem alle in general Is most plesant, and most desired Above alle othre and most conspired, Such o thing conne thei noght finde Be Constellacion ne kinde: And thus Florent withoute cure Mot stonde upon his aventure, And is al schape unto the lere, As in defalte of his answere. This knyht hath levere forto dye Than breke his trowthe and forto lye In place ther as he was swore, And schapth him gon ayein therfore. Whan time cam he tok his leve, That lengere wolde he noght beleve, And preith his Em he be noght wroth, For that is a point of his oth, He seith, that noman schal him wreke, Thogh afterward men hiere speke That he par aventure deie. And thus he wente forth his weie Alone as knyht aventurous, And in his thoght was curious To wite what was best to do: And as he rod al one so, And cam nyh ther he wolde be, In a forest under a tre He syh wher sat a creature, A lothly wommannysch figure, That forto speke of fleisch and bon So foul yit syh he nevere non. This knyht behield hir redely, And as he wolde have passed by, Sche cleped him and bad abide; And he his horse heved aside Tho torneth, and to hire he rod, And there he hoveth and abod, To wite what sche wolde mene. And sche began him to bemene, And seide: "Florent be thi name, Thou hast on honde such a game, That bot thou be the betre avised, Thi deth is schapen and devised, That al the world ne mai the save, Bot if that thou my conseil have." Florent, whan he this tale herde, Unto this olde wyht answerde And of hir conseil he hir preide. And sche ayein to him thus seide: "Florent, if I for the so schape, That thou thurgh me thi deth ascape And take worschipe of thi dede, What schal I have to my mede?" "What thing," quod he, "that thou wolt axe." "I bidde nevere a betre taxe," Quod sche, "bot ferst, er thou be sped, Thou schalt me leve such a wedd, That I wol have thi trowthe in honde That thou schalt be myn housebonde." "Nay," seith Florent, "that may noght be." "Ryd thanne forth thi wey," quod sche, "And if thou go withoute red, Thou schalt be sekerliche ded." Florent behihte hire good ynowh Of lond, of rente, of park, of plowh, Bot al that compteth sche at noght. Tho fell this knyht in mochel thoght, Now goth he forth, now comth ayein, He wot noght what is best to sein, And thoghte, as he rod to and fro, That chese he mot on of the tuo, Or forto take hire to his wif Or elles forto lese his lif. And thanne he caste his avantage, That sche was of so gret an age, That sche mai live bot a while, And thoghte put hire in an Ile, Wher that noman hire scholde knowe, Til sche with deth were overthrowe. And thus this yonge lusti knyht Unto this olde lothly wiht Tho seide: "If that non other chance Mai make my deliverance, Bot only thilke same speche Which, as thou seist, thou schalt me teche, Have hier myn hond, I schal thee wedde." And thus his trowthe he leith to wedde. With that sche frounceth up the browe: "This covenant I wol allowe," Sche seith: "if eny other thing Bot that thou hast of my techyng Fro deth thi body mai respite, I woll thee of thi trowthe acquite, And elles be non other weie. Now herkne me what I schal seie. "Whan thou art come into the place, Wher now thei maken gret manace And upon thi comynge abyde, Thei wole anon the same tide Oppose thee of thin answere. I wot thou wolt nothing forbere Of that thou wenest be thi beste, And if thou myht so finde reste, Wel is, for thanne is ther nomore. And elles this schal be my lore, That thou schalt seie, upon this Molde That alle wommen lievest wolde Be soverein of mannes love: For what womman is so above, Sche hath, as who seith, al hire wille; And elles may sche noght fulfille What thing hir were lievest have. "With this answere thou schalt save Thiself, and other wise noght. And whan thou hast thin ende wroght, Com hier ayein, thou schalt me finde, And let nothing out of thi minde." He goth him forth with hevy chiere, As he that not in what manere He mai this worldes joie atteigne: For if he deie, he hath a peine, And if he live, he mot him binde To such on which of alle kinde Of wommen is th'unsemlieste: Thus wot he noght what is the beste: Bot be him lief or be him loth, Unto the Castell forth he goth His full answere forto yive, Or forto deie or forto live. Forth with his conseil cam the lord, The thinges stoden of record, He sende up for the lady sone, And forth sche cam, that olde Mone. In presence of the remenant The strengthe of al the covenant Tho was reherced openly, And to Florent sche bad forthi That he schal tellen his avis, As he that woot what is the pris. Florent seith al that evere he couthe, Bot such word cam ther non to mowthe, That he for yifte or for beheste Mihte eny wise his deth areste. And thus he tarieth longe and late, Til that this lady bad algate That he schal for the dom final Yive his answere in special Of that sche hadde him ferst opposed: And thanne he hath trewly supposed That he him may of nothing yelpe, Bot if so be tho wordes helpe, Whiche as the womman hath him tawht; Wherof he hath an hope cawht That he schal ben excused so, And tolde out plein his wille tho. And whan that this Matrone herde The manere how this knyht ansuerde, Sche seide: "Ha treson, wo thee be, That hast thus told the privite, Which alle wommen most desire! I wolde that thou were afire." Bot natheles in such a plit Florent of his answere is quit: And tho began his sorwe newe, For he mot gon, or ben untrewe, To hire which his trowthe hadde. Bot he, which alle schame dradde, Goth forth in stede of his penance, And takth the fortune of his chance, As he that was with trowthe affaited. This olde wyht him hath awaited In place wher as he hire lefte: Florent his wofull heved uplefte And syh this vecke wher sche sat, Which was the lothlieste what That evere man caste on his yhe: Hire Nase bass, hire browes hyhe, Hire yhen smale and depe set, Hire chekes ben with teres wet, And rivelen as an emty skyn Hangende doun unto the chin, Hire Lippes schrunken ben for age, Ther was no grace in the visage, Hir front was nargh, hir lockes hore, Sche loketh forth as doth a More, Hire Necke is schort, hir schuldres courbe, That myhte a mannes lust destourbe, Hire body gret and nothing smal, And schortly to descrive hire al, Sche hath no lith withoute a lak; Bot lich unto the wollesak Sche proferth hire unto this knyht, And bad him, as he hath behyht, So as sche hath ben his warant, That he hire holde covenant, And be the bridel sche him seseth. Bot godd wot how that sche him pleseth Of suche wordes as sche spekth: Him thenkth welnyh his herte brekth For sorwe that he may noght fle, Bot if he wolde untrewe be. Loke, how a sek man for his hele Takth baldemoine with Canele, And with the Mirre takth the Sucre, Ryht upon such a maner lucre Stant Florent, as in this diete: He drinkth the bitre with the swete, He medleth sorwe with likynge, And liveth, as who seith, deyinge; His youthe schal be cast aweie Upon such on which as the weie Is old and lothly overal. Bot nede he mot that nede schal: He wolde algate his trowthe holde, As every knyht therto is holde, What happ so evere him is befalle: Thogh sche be the fouleste of alle, Yet to th'onour of wommanhiede Him thoghte he scholde taken hiede; So that for pure gentilesse, As he hire couthe best adresce, In ragges, as sche was totore, He set hire on his hors tofore And forth he takth his weie softe; No wonder thogh he siketh ofte. Bot as an oule fleth be nyhte Out of alle othre briddes syhte, Riht so this knyht on daies brode In clos him hield, and schop his rode On nyhtes time, til the tyde That he cam there he wolde abide; And prively withoute noise He bringth this foule grete Coise To his Castell in such a wise That noman myhte hire schappe avise, Til sche into the chambre cam: Wher he his prive conseil nam Of suche men as he most troste, And tolde hem that he nedes moste This beste wedde to his wif, For elles hadde he lost his lif. The prive wommen were asent, That scholden ben of his assent: Hire ragges thei anon of drawe, And, as it was that time lawe, She hadde bath, sche hadde reste, And was arraied to the beste. Bot with no craft of combes brode Thei myhte hire hore lockes schode, And sche ne wolde noght be schore For no conseil, and thei therfore, With such atyr as tho was used, Ordeinen that it was excused, And hid so crafteliche aboute, That noman myhte sen hem oute. Bot when sche was fulliche arraied And hire atyr was al assaied, Tho was sche foulere on to se: Bot yit it may non other be, Thei were wedded in the nyht; So wo begon was nevere knyht As he was thanne of mariage. And sche began to pleie and rage, As who seith, I am wel ynowh; Bot he therof nothing ne lowh, For sche tok thanne chiere on honde And clepeth him hire housebonde, And seith, "My lord, go we to bedde, For I to that entente wedde, That thou schalt be my worldes blisse:" And profreth him with that to kisse, As sche a lusti Lady were. His body myhte wel be there, Bot as of thoght and of memoire His herte was in purgatoire. Bot yit for strengthe of matrimoine He myhte make non essoine, That he ne mot algates plie To gon to bedde of compaignie: And whan thei were abedde naked, Withoute slep he was awaked; He torneth on that other side, For that he wolde hise yhen hyde Fro lokynge on that foule wyht. The chambre was al full of lyht, The courtins were of cendal thinne This newe bryd which lay withinne, Thogh it be noght with his acord, In armes sche beclipte hire lord, And preide, as he was torned fro, He wolde him torne ayeinward tho; "For now," sche seith, "we ben bothe on." And he lay stille as eny ston, Bot evere in on sche spak and preide, And bad him thenke on that he seide, Whan that he tok hire be the hond. He herde and understod the bond, How he was set to his penance, And as it were a man in trance He torneth him al sodeinly, And syh a lady lay him by Of eyhtetiene wynter age, Which was the faireste of visage That evere in al this world he syh: And as he wolde have take hire nyh, Sche put hire hand and be his leve Besoghte him that he wolde leve, And seith that forto wynne or lese He mot on of tuo thinges chese, Wher he wol have hire such on nyht, Or elles upon daies lyht, For he schal noght have bothe tuo. And he began to sorwe tho, In many a wise and caste his thoght, Bot for al that yit cowthe he noght Devise himself which was the beste. And sche, that wolde his hertes reste, Preith that he scholde chese algate, Til ate laste longe and late He seide: "O ye, my lyves hele, Sey what you list in my querele, I not what ansuere I schal yive: Bot evere whil that I may live, I wol that ye be my maistresse, For I can noght miselve gesse Which is the beste unto my chois. Thus grante I yow myn hole vois, Ches for ous bothen, I you preie; And what as evere that ye seie, Riht as ye wole so wol I." "Mi lord," sche seide," grant merci, For of this word that ye now sein, That ye have mad me soverein, Mi destine is overpassed, That nevere hierafter schal be lassed Mi beaute, which that I now have, Til I be take into my grave; Bot nyht and day as I am now I schal alwey be such to yow. "The kinges dowhter of Cizile I am, and fell bot siththe awhile, As I was with my fader late, That my Stepmoder for an hate, Which toward me sche hath begonne, Forschop me, til I hadde wonne The love and sovereinete Of what knyht that in his degre Alle othre passeth of good name: And, as men sein, ye ben the same, The dede proeveth it is so; Thus am I youres evermo." Tho was plesance and joye ynowh, Echon with other pleide and lowh; Thei live longe and wel thei ferde, And clerkes that this chance herde Thei writen it in evidence, To teche how that obedience Mai wel fortune a man to love And sette him in his lust above, As it befell unto this knyht. Forthi, my Sone, if thou do ryht, Thou schalt unto thi love obeie, And folwe hir will be alle weie. Min holy fader, so I wile: For ye have told me such a skile Of this ensample now tofore, That I schal evermo therfore Hierafterward myn observance To love and to his obeissance The betre kepe: and over this Of pride if ther oght elles is, Wherof that I me schryve schal, What thing it is in special, Mi fader, axeth, I you preie. Now lest, my Sone, and I schal seie: For yit ther is Surquiderie, Which stant with Pride of compaignie; Wherof that thou schalt hiere anon, To knowe if thou have gult or non Upon the forme as thou schalt hiere: Now understond wel the matiere. **success** **fighting** **hesitate** **disputation** **grandmother** **stated, alleged** **if it be so that** **arranged** **loss** **moan, speak** **payment** **pledge** **as a pledge** **ask, question** **asked** **wrinkled** **forhead was narrow** **humped** **limb . . . defect** **sack of wool** **promised** **by** **gentian with cinnamon** **myrrh . . . sugar** **reward** **the honor** **Cf. WBT 1081** **journey, riding** **ugly womman** **took** **trusted** **separate, comb** **excuse** **submit** **rich cloth** **saw** **saviour of my life** **Sicily** **not long ago** **Presumption** Text adapted from: *The English Works of John Gower*, ed. G. C. Macaulay, EETS e.s. 81-82. London. 1900-01.