Ñàéò ïîå糿, â³ðø³, ïîçäîðîâëåííÿ ó â³ðøàõ ::

logo

UA  |  FR  |  RU

Ðîæåâèé ñàéò ñó÷àñíî¿ ïîå糿

Á³áë³îòåêà
Óêðà¿íè
| Ïîåòè
Êë. Ïîå糿
| ²íø³ ïîåò.
ñàéòè, êàíàëè
| ÑËÎÂÍÈÊÈ ÏÎÅÒÀÌ| Ñàéòè â÷èòåëÿì| ÄÎ ÂÓÑ ñèíîí³ìè| Îãîëîøåííÿ| ˳òåðàòóðí³ ïðå쳿| Ñï³ëêóâàííÿ| Êîíòàêòè
Êë. Ïîå糿

 x
>> ÂÕ²Ä ÄÎ ÊËÓÁÓ <<


e-mail
ïàðîëü
çàáóëè ïàðîëü?
< ðåºñòðaö³ÿ >
Çàðàç íà ñàéò³ - 6
Ïîøóê

Ïåðåâ³ðêà ðîçì³ðó




Geoffrey Chaucer

Ïðî÷èòàíèé : 364


Òâîð÷³ñòü | Á³îãðàô³ÿ | Êðèòèêà

23. THE MONK'S TALE

Prologue
Merry  Words  of  the  Host  to  the  Monk
   When  ended  was  my  tale  of  Melibee,
Of  Prudence  and  of  her  benignity,                                                    1890
Our  Host  said,  "As  I  am  a  faithful  man,
And  by  that  precious  corpus  Madrian,
Rather  than  have  a  barrelful  of  ale
I  would  my  own  good  wife  had  heard  this  tale!
Of  patience  not  the  slightest  bit  has  she                                    1895
Like  that  of  Prudence,  wife  of  Melibee.
By  God's  bones,  when  I  have  to  beat  my  knaves
She  goes  and  fetches  great  club-headed  staves
To  me,  and  cries  out,  'Slay  the  dogs!  Lay  on
And  break  them  up,  their  backs  and  every  bone!'                        1900
   "And  if  somebody  from  my  neighborhood
Won't  bow  to  her  in  church,  or  if  he  should
Toward  her  be  too  bold  or  out  of  place,
When  she  comes  home  she  gets  right  in  my  face:
'False  coward,'  she  will  cry,  'avenge  your  wife!                      1905
By  corpus  bones,  now  I  will  have  your  knife,
My  distaff  you  can  have  to  go  and  spin!'
From  day  to  night  that's  just  how  she'll  begin.
'Alas,'  she'll  say,  'that  I  was  in  such  shape
I  wed  a  milksop,  such  a  coward  ape                                                  1910
Neath  everybody's  domineering  hand!
For  your  own  wife  you  don't  dare  take  a  stand!'
   "Such  is  my  life  unless  I  will  to  fight;
Right  out  the  door  must  be  my  rapid  flight
Or  else  I  am  but  lost--unless  I  be                                                  1915
Like  some  wild  lion,  act  foolhardily.
I  know  full  well  someday  she'll  make  me  slay
A  neighbor,  then  I'll  have  to  run  away;
For  I'm  a  dangerous  man  with  knife  in  hand,  
Though  I  admit  that  I  don't  dare  to  stand                                    1920
Up  to  her,  for  she's  big  in  either  arm,
As,  by  my  faith,  he'll  find  who  does  her  harm.
Let's  leave  this  matter  now  and  forge  ahead.
   "Be  of  good  cheer,  my  lord  the  Monk,"  he  said,
"For  you  shall  tell  a  tale,  I  truly  say.                                      1925
Look,  there  stands  Rochester  close  by  the  way!
Ride  forth,  my  lord,  and  don't  break  up  our  game.
But  by  my  oath,  I  do  not  know  your  name,
If  it's  Don  John  that  you  should  be  addressed,
Don  Thomas  or  Don  Alban--which  is  best?                                        1930
You're  of  which  order,  by  your  father's  kin?
I  swear  to  God,  you're  very  fair  of  skin;
The  pasture  must  be  fertile  you  frequent,
You  don't  look  like  some  ghost  or  penitent.
You  are,  upon  my  faith,  some  officer,                                            1935
Some  worthy  sacristan  or  cellarer,
For,  by  my  father's  soul,  I  would  surmise
At  home  you  are  a  master.  In  no  wise
Are  you  a  novice  or  poor  cloisterer,
Instead  a  wise  and  wily  governor,                                                    1940
One  big-boned,  too,  and  brawny.  I  would  say
You're  quite  a  handsome  fellow  all  the  way.
God  give  to  him  confusion,  utter  strife,
Who  brought  you  first  to  the  religious  life!
A  treading  rooster  you'd  have  been,  all  right;                          1945
Had  you  the  liberty  as  you  have  might
To  satisfy  desire  in  such  a  way,
Then  many  a  creature  you'd  have  sired  today.
Alas,  why  do  you  wear  so  wide  a  cope?
God  give  me  sorrow  but,  if  I  were  pope,                                        1950
Not  only  you  but  every  man  of  strength--
His  head  shorn  to  however  short  a  length--
Would  have  a  wife.  The  loss  is  to  all  earth,
Religion's  taken  all  the  corn  of  worth
From  treading,  we're  but  shrimps,  we  laity.                                1955
A  wretched  root  comes  from  a  feeble  tree;
Our  heirs  will  be  so  feeble,  weak,  and  tender
They  may  not  have  the  strength  well  to  engender.
And  that  is  why  our  wives  are  known  to  try
Out  you  religious  folk:  you  satisfy                                                1960
The  debts  of  Venus  better  than  we  may.
By  God,  it's  not  with  counterfeit  you  pay!
Please  don't  be  angered  by  my  playful  word,
For  often,  sir,  in  game  a  truth  is  heard."
   This  worthy  Monk  took  all  of  this  in  patience,                      1965
Then  said,  "I'll  try  with  all  my  diligence--
Keeping  within  the  realm  of  probity--
To  tell  for  you  a  tale,  or  two  or  three.
If  you  would  like  to  listen,  I've  some  words
I  could  impart  about  a  life,  Saint  Edward's;                              1970
Or  else,  to  start  with,  tragedies  I'll  tell,
Of  which  I  have  a  hundred  in  my  cell--
Tragedy  is  to  say  a  certain  story,
As  old  books  bring  to  mind,  about  the  glory
Of  one  who  stood  in  great  prosperity,                                            1975
But  who  then  tumbled  from  his  high  degree
To  wretched  end,  woe  that  was  never  worse.
These  commonly  have  been  set  down  in  verse,
In  six  feet  that  men  call  hexameter.
In  prose  as  well,  though,  many  others  were,                                1980
In  meter  too--all  manner  of  device.
That  ought  to  be  enough  words  to  suffice.
   "Now  pay  attention  if  you'd  like  to  hear.
But  first  I  ask,  to  make  this  matter  clear,
If  out  of  order  I  should  tell  these  things                                  1985
(Be  they  of  popes  or  emperors  or  kings)
As  ages  go  (as  written  you  will  find),
And  tell  a  few  before  and  some  behind
As  they  may  come  back  now  to  my  remembrance,
That  you'll  excuse  me  for  my  ignorance."                                      1990

The  Monk's  Tale
   I  shall  bewail  in  form  that's  tragical
The  harm  of  them  who  stood  in  high  degree
And  fell,  who  had  no  remedy  at  all
To  bring  them  out  of  their  adversity.
For  surely  when  Fortune  may  choose  to  flee,                                1995
There  is  no  man  who  may  her  course  withhold.
Let  no  man  trust  in  blind  prosperity;
Beware  by  these  examples  true  and  old.


LUCIFER

With  Lucifer,  though  of  the  angelic  band,
Not  of  the  human  race,  I  will  begin.                                              2000
Though  Fortune  cannot  harm  or  have  a  hand
With  angels,  from  on  high  he  for  his  sin
Fell  into  hell,  and  he  is  yet  therein.
O  Lucifer,  angel  brightest  of  all,
Now  you  are  Satan,  who  may  never  win                                              2005
From  misery,  to  which  has  been  your  fall.


ADAM

Lo,  Adam  in  the  field  of  Damascene:
By  God's  own  finger  created  was  he
And  not  conceived  by  sperm  of  man  unclean.
He  ruled  all  Paradise,  except  one  tree.                                        2010
No  man  on  earth  has  held  such  high  degree
Since  Adam,  who,  for  his  misgovernance,
Was  driven  from  his  high  prosperity
To  labor  and  to  hell  and  to  mischance.


SAMSON

Behold  Samson,  who  was  annunciated                                                  2015
By  the  angel  long  ere  his  nativity,
And  was  to  God  Almighty  consecrated,
And  stood  in  honor  while  he  still  could  see.
There  never  was  another  such  as  he,
To  speak  of  strength  and,  with  it,  hardiness;                            2020
But  to  his  wives  he  broke  his  secrecy,
And  slew  himself  thereby  in  wretchedness.

This  noble,  mighty  champion  without
A  weapon  save  his  bare  hands  still  could  slay
The  lion,  which  he  tore,  ripped  inside  out,                                2025
While  to  his  wedding  he  was  on  his  way.
His  false  wife  could  so  please  him,  so  could  pray,
She  learnt  from  him  his  secret;  she,  untrue,
Went  to  his  foes,  his  secret  to  betray,
And  then  forsook  him,  taking  someone  new.                                    2030

Three  hundred  foxes  Samson  took  in  ire
And  bound  their  tails  together;  once  in  hand,
All  of  the  foxes'  tails  he  set  afire
(On  every  fox's  tail  he  tied  a  brand);
They  burnt  up  all  the  crops  grown  in  the  land,                          2035
The  olive  trees  and  vines,  as  they  would  pass.
He  also  slew  a  thousand  men  by  hand,
No  weapon  save  the  jawbone  of  an  ass.

When  they  were  slain,  he  thirsted  so  that  he
Was  all  but  lost;  he  prayed  that  God  on  high                              2040
Might  on  his  pain  look  with  some  clemency
And  send  him  drink  or  else  he'd  have  to  die;
Then  in  that  ass's  jawbone,  which  was  dry,
Out  of  a  molar  sprang  at  once  a  well
From  which,  in  short,  he  drank.  None  can  deny                            2045
God  was  his  help,  as  Judicum  can  tell.

One  night  in  Gaza  by  his  proven  might,
In  spite  of  all  the  Philistines  so  nigh,
The  city  gates  he  plucked  up,  set  them  right
Upon  his  back,  and  carried  them  up  high                                        2050
Onto  a  hill  for  everyone  to  spy.
O  noble,  mighty  Samson,  loved  and  dear,
Had  you  not  let  your  secret  be  known  by
Your  women,  you'd  have  been  without  a  peer!

This  Samson  never  touched  strong  drink  or  wine.                        2055
No  razor  ever  touched  his  head,  no  shear,
By  precept  of  the  messenger  divine,
For  all  his  strength  was  in  his  hair.  And  year
By  year,  for  twenty  winters,  Samson's  sphere
Was  that  of  judge  in  Israel's  governance.                                    2060
But  soon  he  shall  be  weeping  many  a  tear,
For  women  shall  bring  Samson  to  mischance!

Delilah  was  his  lover  whom  he  told
That  in  his  hair  was  where  his  strength  all  lay,
And  Samson  to  his  enemies  she  sold;                                                2065
While  he  was  sleeping  in  her  lap  one  day,
She  had  his  hair  all  clipped  and  shorn  away,
And  let  his  foes  observe,  come  for  their  prize;
For  when  they  had  him  in  this  weakened  way,
They  bound  him  tightly,  then  put  out  his  eyes.                          2070

Before  his  hair  had  thus  been  clipped  away,
Men  simply  had  no  bond,  this  man  to  bind;
Now  he's  imprisoned  in  a  cave  where  they
Have  bound  him  to  the  handmill,  there  to  grind.
O  noble  Samson,  strongest  of  mankind,                                            2075
Once  judge  with  glory,  wealth,  and  blessedness!
Well  you  may  weep  with  eyes  that  now  are  blind,
To  fall  from  where  you  were  to  wretchedness.

This  captive's  end  was  as  I  now  shall  state.
His  foemen  held  a  certain  feast  one  day                                        2080
In  their  great  temple,  splendid  and  ornate;
And  there  the  fool  for  them  they  had  him  play.
But  at  the  last  he  brought  them  disarray;
He  shook  two  temple  pillars  till  they  fell--
Down  came  the  temple,  all,  and  there  it  lay,                              2085
He  slew  himself  and  slew  his  foes  as  well;

For  each  and  every  prince  who  there  had  gone,
And  some  three  thousand  others,  too,  were  slain
When  that  great  temple  fell  with  all  its  stone.
From  speaking  more  of  Samson  I'll  refrain.                                  2090
Be  warned  by  this  example  old  and  plain:
Men  shouldn't  be  confiding  to  their  wives
Something  that  should  in  secrecy  remain
If  it  might  touch  upon  their  limbs  or  lives.


HERCULES

Of  Hercules,  the  sovereign  conqueror,                                            2095
His  deeds  sing  praise,  the  strong,  renowned  and  bold,
The  flower  of  his  time,  none  mightier.
He  slew  and  skinned  the  lion;  it  is  told
How  centaurs  he  brought  low;  in  days  of  old
He  slew  the  harpies,  cruel  birds  and  fell;                                  2100
He  took  from  the  dragon  apples  of  gold;
He  drew  out  Cerberus,  the  hound  of  hell;

He  slew  Busiris,  tyrant  cruel  and  vile,
And  had  his  horse  consume  him,  flesh  and  bone;
He  slew  the  fiery  serpent  full  of  bile;                                        2105
He  broke  one  horn  that  Achelous  had  grown,
And  Cacus  he  slew  in  a  cave  of  stone;
He  slew  the  giant,  Antaeus  the  strong;
The  grisly  boor  he  slew  with  ease,  and  on
His  mighty  shoulders  bore  the  heavens  long.                                2110

No  other  being  since  the  world  began
Brought  down  so  many  monsters  as  did  he.
This  whole  wide  world  his  fame  was  quick  to  span,
His  strength  and  worth  of  such  immensity,
And  every  realm  on  earth  he  went  to  see.                                      2115
He  was  too  strong  for  any  man  to  hold.
At  earth's  each  end,  instead  of  boundary
He  set  a  pillar  (so  has  Trophee  told).

This  noble  champion  had  a  lover
Whose  name  was  Dejanira,  fresh  as  May;                                          2120
As  from  these  learned  men  you  may  discover,
She  sent  to  him  a  shirt,  bright  fresh  array.
Alas,  that  shirt,  alas  and  wellaway!
So  poison  soaked  it  was,  he  put  it  on
And,  when  he'd  worn  it  less  than  half  a  day,                              2125
It  caused  his  flesh  to  fall  right  off  the  bone.

But  still  some  learned  men  will  her  excuse
And  say  that  one  called  Nessus  was  to  blame;
Be  as  it  may,  I  will  not  her  accuse,
On  his  bare  back  he  wore  it  just  the  same.                                  2130
His  flesh  the  venom  blackened,  overcame;
And  when  he  saw  no  other  remedy,
He  raked  hot  coals  about  himself:  by  flame,
Not  poison,  he  preferred  his  death  to  be.

So  died  this  worthy,  mighty  Hercules.                                            2135
Who  may  in  Fortune  trust  a  single  throw?
Who  travels  through  this  dangerous  world  with  ease?
Ere  one's  aware  he's  laid  so  often  low.
The  wisest  man  is  he  who  comes  to  know
Himself;  be  wary,  for  when  Fortune  goes                                        2140
To  flatter,  it's  so  she  may  overthrow
In  such  a  way  as  man  may  least  suppose.


NEBUCHADNEZZAR

The  great  and  mighty  throne,  the  precious  treasure,
The  glorious  scepter,  royal  majesty
Belonging  to  the  king  Nebuchadnezzar,                                            2145
The  tongue  can  scarcely  utter.  Twice  did  he
Against  Jerusalem  win  victory
And  vessels  of  the  temple  bear  away.
In  Babylon,  seat  of  his  sovereignty,
In  glory  and  delight  he  held  his  sway.                                          2150

The  fairest  children  of  the  royalty
Of  Israel  he  had  gelded,  quickly  done,
And  took  each  of  them  into  slavery.
Now  Daniel  of  these  Israelites  was  one;
The  wisest  child  of  all,  he  had  begun                                            2155
To  serve  as  dream  interpreter  of  the  king.
(Among  Chaldean  sages  there  was  none
Who  from  his  dreams  could  prophecy  a  thing.)

This  proud  king  had  a  statue  made  of  gold,
Sixty  by  seven  cubits;  he  decreed                                                    2160
This  golden  image  by  both  young  and  old
Be  feared  and  worshipped.  Those  who  wouldn't  heed
To  red  flames  of  a  furnace  he  would  feed,
He'd  order  burnt  all  those  who  disobeyed.
Daniel  would  not  assent  to  such  a  deed,                                        2165
Nor  would  his  two  young  comrades  so  be  swayed.

This  king  of  kings  was  arrogant  and  vain;
He  thought  that  God  who  sits  in  majesty
Would  never  take  from  him  his  great  domain.
But  he  lost  that  dominion  suddenly,                                                2170
And  after  like  a  beast  he  came  to  be:
He  ate  hay  like  an  ox  and  lay  about
Right  in  the  rain,  wild  beasts  his  company,
Until  a  certain  time  had  run  its  route;

Like  eagle  feathers  grew  his  hair;  as  well,                                2175
His  nails  grew  out,  like  bird  claws  to  appear;
Then  God  relieved  him  for  a  few  years'  spell
And  gave  him  sense.  With  that  and  many  a  tear
He  thanked  God  and  was  evermore  in  fear
Of  doing  wrong  or  being  out  of  place,                                            2180
And  till  the  time  that  he  lay  on  his  bier
He  knew  that  God  was  full  of  might  and  grace.


BELSHAZZAR

His  son  and  heir--Belshazzar  was  his  name--
Held  power  after  Nebuchadnezzar's  day
But  took  no  warning  from  his  father's  shame;                              2185
He  was  so  proud  of  heart  and  in  array,
And  lived  in  so  idolatrous  a  way,
And  on  his  high  estate  himself  so  prided,
That  Fortune  cast  him  down  and  there  he  lay
And  suddenly  his  kingdom  was  divided.                                            2190

For  all  his  lords  he  gave  a  feast  one  day
And  bade  them  be  as  merry  as  could  be;
And  then  he  called  his  officers  to  say,
"Go  now  and  bring  the  vessels  all  to  me,
The  ones  my  father  in  prosperity                                                      2195
Took  from  the  temple  of  Jerusalem;
For  prizes  left  us  by  our  elders,  we
Give  thanks  to  our  high  gods  and  honor  them."

His  wife,  his  lords,  and  all  his  concubines
Then  drank,  as  long  as  appetite  would  last,                                2200
Out  of  these  noble  vessels  sundry  wines;
Then  on  a  wall  his  eyes  Belshazzar  cast
And  saw  an  armless  hand  inscribing  fast,
Which  made  him  quake  in  fear.  Upon  the  wall
This  hand,  which  had  Belshazzar  so  aghast,                                  2205
Wrote  Mane,  techel,  phares,  that  was  all.

There  wasn't  one  magician  in  the  land
Who  could  interpret  what  this  writing  meant,
But  Daniel  then  at  once  explained  the  hand.
He  said,  "My  king,  God  to  your  father  lent                                  2210
Glory  and  honor,  kingdom  opulent;
But  he  was  proud,  of  God  he  showed  no  dread,
And  therefore  God  great  woe  upon  him  sent
And  took  from  him  the  kingdom  he  had  led.
"Then  he  was  banished  from  man's  company,                                    2215

With  asses  dwelt,  ate  hay  as  his  reward,
Just  like  a  beast,  though  wet  or  dry  it  be,
Till  grace  and  reason  would  to  him  afford
The  knowledge  that  dominion's  of  the  Lord
Over  every  kingdom  and  creature;                                                      2220
Then  God  had  pity  on  him  and  restored
To  him  his  kingdom  and  his  human  feature.

"And  you,  who  are  his  son,  are  proud  also,
And  know  all  these  things  as  a  verity;
A  rebel  to  the  Lord,  you  are  his  foe                                              2225
And  from  his  vessels  drink  so  brazenly;
Your  wife,  your  wenches  too  drink  sinfully
Mixed  wine  from  those  same  vessels,  while  you  pray
To  your  false  gods  in  curst  idolatry.
For  such,  your  retribution's  on  the  way.                                      2230

"This  hand  was  sent  from  God  that  on  the  wall
Wrote  Mane,  techel,  phares,  trust  in  me;
Your  reign  is  done,  you  count  for  naught  at  all;
Your  kingdom  is  divided,  it  shall  be
Given  to  Medes  and  Persians,"  augured  he.                                    2235
This  king  was  slain  upon  that  very  night;
Darius  then  replaced  him  in  degree
Although  he  had  no  lawful  means  or  right.

My  lords,  examples  hereby  you  may  take:
Security  is  not  a  lord's  to  know;                                                    2240
Whenever  Fortune  chooses  to  forsake,
She  takes  away  one's  reign,  one's  wealth  also,
And  friends  as  well,  though  they  be  high  or  low.
If  it's  to  Fortune  that  friendships  are  due,
Mishap,  I  guess,  will  turn  a  friend  to  foe;                                2245
This  is  a  common  proverb  and  it's  true.


ZENOBIA

Zenobia,  once  of  Palmyra  queen,
As  Persians  wrote  of  her  nobility,
So  worthy  was  in  armaments,  so  keen,
For  hardiness  she  had  no  rivalry,                                                    2250
For  lineage,  for  all  gentility;
From  royal  Persian  blood  she  was  descended.
I  won't  say  none  was  lovelier  than  she,
Yet  her  looks  had  no  need  to  be  amended.

I  find  that  from  her  childhood  on  she  fled                                  2255
The  role  of  women;  to  the  woods  she  went,
Where  blood  of  many  wild  harts  she  would  shed
With  arrows  broad,  which  to  the  mark  she  sent
To  quickly  land  her  game.  And  by  her  bent
She  later  on  in  life  would  also  kill                                              2260
Lions,  leopards,  bears,  all  torn  and  rent,
In  her  strong  arms  she  had  them  at  her  will.

She  dared  to  seek  the  wild  beast  in  its  den
And  run  along  the  mountains  all  the  night
And  sleep  beneath  a  bush;  and  she  would  win                                2265
In  wrestling,  by  her  very  force  and  might,
From  any  youth  though  strong  he  be  to  fight;
Against  her  not  a  thing  could  hold  its  ground.
She  kept  her  maidenhood  with  all  her  might,
For  to  no  man  would  she  deign  to  be  bound.                                  2270

Some  friends  of  hers  at  last,  though,  got  her  married
To  Odenathus,  prince  of  that  same  land,
Though  she  had  long  resisted  them  and  tarried.
And  he,  my  lords,  as  you  should  understand,
Felt  much  the  same  as  she.  But  when  her  hand                              2275
He'd  taken,  very  close  the  couple  grew;
They  lived  in  joy,  their  life  together  grand,
They  held  each  other  dear,  their  love  was  true.

Except  one  thing:  she  never  would  assent
In  any  way  that  he  should  by  her  lie                                              2280
More  than  one  time;  it  was  her  sole  intent
To  have  a  child,  the  world  to  multiply.
But  just  as  soon  as  she  might  then  espy
That  by  the  deed  she'd  still  failed  to  conceive,
At  once  she'd  let  him  give  it  one  more  try--                              2285
But  only  once,  that  much  you  can  believe.

And  if  she  bore  a  child  from  that  event,
She  wouldn't  let  him  have  back  at  the  game
Till  after  forty  full  weeks  came  and  went,
Then  once  more  she  would  tolerate  the  same.                                2290
Though  he  go  wild  or  manage  to  be  tame,
He'd  get  no  more  from  her;  she  said  to  him
That  wives  thought  it  but  lechery  and  shame
If  otherwise  their  husbands  play  with  them.

Two  sons  by  Odenathus  she  would  bear                                              2295
And  rear  to  virtue  and  good  education.
But  let's  get  back  now  to  our  tale.  I  swear,
She  was  so  worthy  of  one's  admiration,
So  wise,  so  giving  with  due  moderation,
In  war  untiring,  and  so  courteous  too,                                          2300
None  had  in  war  a  greater  dedication
To  work,  though  men  may  search  this  whole  world  through.

Her  wealth  of  goods  was  more  than  can  be  told,
In  vessels  as  well  as  in  what  she  wore
(For  she  would  dress  in  precious  stones  and  gold).                  2305
And  when  not  on  the  hunt,  she'd  not  ignore
Her  study  of  foreign  tongues;  she'd  master  more
When  she  had  leisure  time,  for  her  intent
Was  to  be  educated  in  all  lore
So  that  her  life  in  virtue  might  be  spent.                                  2310

But  that  we  might  deal  briefly  with  the  story,
So  doughty  was  her  husband  as  was  she
That  they  had  conquered  many  a  realm  of  glory
Within  the  East,  fair  towns  that  formerly
Had  been  possessions  of  the  majesty                                                2315
Of  Rome.  In  their  strong  grip  they  held  them  fast,
As  there  was  not  one  foe  could  make  them  flee
As  long  as  Odenathus  was  to  last.

Whoso  would  read  of  battles  that  she  fought
Against  Shapur  the  king  and  others  too,                                        2320
And  how  all  of  her  works  came  to  be  wrought
And  why  she  won,  what  titles  then  her  due,
And  after,  all  the  woes  she  suffered  through,
How  she  would  be  besieged  and  hauled  away--
Let  him  go  to  my  master  Petrarch,  who                                            2325
Wrote  quite  enough  about  it,  I  daresay.

When  Odenathus  died,  she  mightily
Held  to  the  realms,  for  with  her  own  strong  hand
She  fought  against  her  foes  so  brutally
That  not  one  king  or  prince  in  all  the  land                                2330
Was  less  than  glad  when  brought  to  understand
That  she,  through  grace,  his  realm  would  not  invade.
They  made  with  her  peace  treaties  long  to  stand,
And  let  her  be  where  she  rode  forth  and  played.

Not  Claudius,  the  Roman  emperor,                                                      2335
Nor  Gallienus,  Rome's  prior  sovereign,
Was  brave  enough  to  make  a  single  stir;
Not  one  Egyptian  or  Armenian,
No  Syrian,  not  one  Arabian,
Upon  a  field  of  battle  dared  to  fight,                                          2340
Lest  by  her  hand  they  wind  up  carrion
Or  by  her  many  warriors  put  to  flight.

In  kingly  habit  too  her  sons  would  go,
Heirs  to  their  father's  kingdoms  one  and  all;
Their  names  were  Thymalao  and  Hermanno                                          2345
(The  forms,  at  least,  by  which  the  Persians  call
The  two).  But  Fortune  puts  in  honey  gall,
Not  long  endures  this  mighty  governess;
Out  of  her  queendom  Fortune  made  her  fall
To  misadventure  and  to  wretchedness.                                              2350

Aurelianus,  when  administration
Of  Rome  fell  to  his  hands,  without  delay
Made  plans  against  her  for  retaliation;
With  all  his  legions  he  marched  on  his  way
Against  Zenobia.  Let's  briefly  say                                                  2355
He  made  her  flee  and  finally  captured  her;
He  fettered  her,  with  her  two  sons,  that  day
And  won  the  land,  and  went  home  conqueror.

Her  chariot  of  priceless  gems  and  gold,
Among  the  things  taken  in  victory                                                    2360
By  this  Aurelianus  great  and  bold,
He  had  them  haul  in  front  for  all  to  see;
But  walking  first  in  that  parade  was  she,
With  gilded  chains  hung  from  her  neck,  upon
Her  head  a  crown,  befitting  her  degree,                                        2365
Her  clothing  all  decked  out  with  precious  stone.

Alas,  Fortune!  she  who  put  fear  into        
Kings,  emperors,  and  other  worldly  powers,
Is  gaped  at  by  the  crowd,  alas!  She  who  
Once  donned  a  helmet  through  war's  darkest  hours,                    2370
And  won  by  force  the  strongest  towns  and  towers,
Now  bears  upon  her  head  a  crown  so  cheap;
Now  she  who  bore  the  scepter  decked  with  flowers
Shall  work  with  a  distaff  to  earn  her  keep.


PETER,  KING  OF  SPAIN

O  Peter,  noble,  worthy  pride  of  Spain,                                          2375
Whom  Fortune  held  so  high  in  majesty,
Well  should  men  of  your  piteous  death  complain!
Out  of  your  land  your  brother  made  you  flee,
And  after,  at  a  siege,  by  treachery
You  were  betrayed;  he  led  you  to  his  tent                                    2380
And  by  his  own  hand  slew  you,  so  that  he
Might  then  usurp  your  powers  of  government.

A  shield  of  snow,  eagle  of  black  therein
(Crossed  by  a  lime-rod  emberlike,  aglow)
This  cursedness  concocted,  all  this  sin;                                      2385
A  wicked  nest  brought  violence  and  woe--
Not  Charlemagne's  Oliver  (one,  we  know,
Of  truth  and  honor),  but  from  Brittany
A  "Ganelon,"  by  bribe  corrupted  so
He  brought  this  worthy  king  to  treachery.                                    2390


PETER,  KING  OF  CYPRUS

O  worthy  Peter,  Cypriot  king  who  fought
At  Alexandria  masterfully
And  captured  it,  who  many  a  heathen  brought
To  woe!  Your  lieges  in  their  jealousy,
For  naught  but  envy  of  your  chivalry,                                            2395
Have  slain  you  in  your  sleep  before  the  morrow.
So  Fortune's  wheel  can  govern  what  shall  be
And  out  of  gladness  bring  mankind  to  sorrow.


BARNABO  OF  LOMBARDY

O  Barnabo  Visconti,  Milan's  great
God  of  delight,  scourge  of  Lombardy,  why                                      2400
Should  not  all  your  misfortunes  I  relate
Once  you  had  climbed  to  an  estate  so  high?
Your  brother's  son,  in  double  sense  ally
(Your  nephew  and  your  son-in-law  as  well),
Put  you  inside  his  prison,  there  to  die,                                      2405
Though  why  or  how  I  do  not  know  to  tell.


COUNT  UGOLINO  OF  PISA

Now  of  Count  Ugolino's  darkest  hour
No  tongue  can  tell  without  great  sympathy.
Not  far  outside  of  Pisa  stands  a  tower
In  which  he  was  imprisoned--not  just  he                                        2410
But  with  him  there  his  little  children  three,
The  eldest  being  just  five  years  of  age.
Alas,  O  Fortune,  what  great  cruelty,
Such  birds  as  these  put  into  such  a  cage!

The  reason  that  he'd  been  condemned  to  die                                  2415
Was  the  bishop  of  Pisa  (in  that  day
Ruggieri),  who  had  told  of  him  a  lie;
The  people  then  rose  up  against  his  sway
And  had  him  put  in  prison,  in  the  way
That  you  have  heard.  The  food  and  drink  he  had                          2420
Was  not  at  all  sufficient,  safe  to  say;
What  little  bit  he  had  was  poor  and  bad.

It  happened  that  one  day  upon  the  hour
When  food  to  him  had  usually  been  brought,
The  jailer  locked  all  doors  about  the  tower.                              2425
He  heard  it  well  although  he  uttered  naught,
Till  soon  there  fell  upon  his  heart  the  thought
That  by  starvation  they  planned  his  demise.
"Alas  that  I  was  born!"  he  cried,  distraught,
Then  tears  began  to  flow  from  both  his  eyes.                              2430

His  youngest  son,  whose  age  was  only  three,
Then  asked  him,  "Father,  why  is  it  you  weep?
When  will  the  jailer  bring  our  food?  Have  we
No  single  crumb  of  bread  that  you  could  keep?
I  am  so  hungry  I  can't  even  sleep.                                                  2435
Would  God  that  I  might  always  sleep,  instead
Of  feeling  in  me  hunger's  gnawing  creep!
There's  nothing  I  would  rather  have  than  bread."

So  day  by  day  this  child  began  to  cry,
Till  in  his  father's  lap  he  finally  lay                                        2440
And  said,  "Farewell,  my  father,  I  must  die!"
He  kissed  his  father,  died  that  very  day.
And  when  his  father  saw  he'd  passed  away,
His  grief  was  such  he  bit  his  own  two  arms
And  cried,  "Alas,  O  Fortune!  Well  I  may                                        2445
On  your  false  wheel  lay  blame  for  all  my  harms!"

It  was  for  hunger,  so  his  sons  believed,
That  he  had  gnawed  his  arms  and  not  for  woe.
"No,  Father,  don't  do  that,"  they  said,  aggrieved,
"But  eat  our  flesh  instead.  Not  long  ago                                      2450
Our  flesh  you  gave  us;  take  it  back  just  so,
And  eat  enough."  That's  what  they  had  to  say,
And  in  a  day  or  two  both  were  to  go
Lay  in  their  father's  lap  and  pass  away.

And  he,  too,  in  despair  died  of  starvation,                                2455
This  Count  of  Pisa.  Such  was  his  demise,
Cut  down  by  Fortune  from  so  high  a  station.
No  more  on  this  tragedy  I'll  advise;
If  you  would  hear  it  in  more  lengthy  wise,
Then  read  in  that  great  poet  of  Italy                                            2460
Called  Dante,  for  so  well  he  does  devise
It  word  for  word  and  tells  it  totally.


NERO

Though  Nero  was  as  vile  and  villainous
As  any  fiend  that  ever  lay  in  hell,
This  whole  wide  world  (as  writes  Suetonius)                                2465
Both  east  and  west,  from  north  to  south  as  well,
Was  subject  to  his  rule,  albeit  fell.
With  rubies,  sapphires,  pearls  of  purest  white
Were  all  his  clothes  embroidered;  one  could  tell
In  precious  stones  he  took  a  great  delight.                                2470

More  pompous,  proud,  fastidious  in  array
No  other  Roman  emperor  was  than  he;
Whichever  robe  he'd  choose  to  wear  one  day
No  day  thereafter  he  desired  to  see.
Gold-threaded  nets  were  brought  in  quantity                                2475
When  he  desired  to  fish  a  Tiber  bend.
His  every  wish  acquired  legality,
For  Fortune  would  obey  him  like  a  friend.

He  had  Rome  burnt  for  his  delight,  a  whim,
And  senators  he  ordered  slain  one  day                                            2480
That  he  might  hear  the  cries  that  came  from  them.
He  slew  his  brother,  by  his  sister  lay,
And  mangled  his  own  mother--that's  to  say,
He  slit  his  mother's  womb  that  he  might  see
Where  he  had  been  conceived.  O  wellaway                                        2485
That  he  held  her  no  worthier  to  be!

Not  one  tear  from  his  eye  fell  at  the  sight,
He  simply  said,  "A  woman  fair  was  she."
The  wonder  is  how  Nero  could  or  might
Be  any  judge  of  her  late  beauty.  He                                                2490
Then  ordered  wine  be  brought,  which  instantly
He  drank--he  gave  no  other  sign  of  woe.
When  power  has  been  joined  to  cruelty,
Alas,  how  deeply  will  the  venom  flow!

This  Nero  had  a  master  in  his  youth                                                2495
To  teach  to  him  the  arts  and  courtesy,
This  master  being  the  flower  of  moral  truth
In  his  own  time,  if  books  speak  truthfully;
And  while  this  master  held  authority,
So  wise  he  made  him  in  both  word  and  thought                              2500
That  it  would  be  much  time  ere  tyranny
Or  any  vice  against  him  would  be  brought.  

This  master  Seneca  of  whom  I've  spoken
To  Nero  had  become  a  cause  of  dread,
Chastising  him  for  every  good  rule  broken,                                  2505
By  word,  not  deed.  As  he  discreetly  said,
"An  emperor,  sir,  must  always  be  well  bred,
Of  virtue,  hating  tyranny."  Defied,
He  wound  up  in  a  bath  where  he  was  bled
From  both  his  arms,  and  that's  the  way  he  died.                        2510

This  Nero  as  a  youth  was  also  taught
Before  his  master  always  to  arise,
Which  afterwards  was  great  insult,  he  thought,
For  which  he  had  him  sent  to  such  demise.
But  nonetheless  this  Seneca  the  wise                                              2515
Chose  in  a  bath  to  die  in  just  that  way
Rather  than  in  some  torture  they'd  devise.
So  his  dear  master  Nero  chose  to  slay.

Now  it  befell  that  Fortune  wished  no  longer
To  suffer  Nero's  pride,  such  haughtiness;                                    2520
For  although  he  was  strong,  she  was  the  stronger.
She  thought,  "By  God!  I  am  a  fool,  no  less,
To  set  a  man  so  full  of  wickedness
In  high  degree,  an  emperor  to  call.
By  God,  I'll  pluck  him  from  his  loftiness;                                  2525
When  he  may  least  expect,  soon  he  shall  fall."

The  people  rose  against  him  then  one  night
For  his  misdeeds;  and  when  he  so  espied,
He  sneaked  outside  as  quickly  as  he  might
And  went  to  where  he  thought  he'd  be  allied.                              2530
But  as  he  knocked,  and  all  the  more  he  cried,
The  faster  would  the  doors  shut  one  and  all;
Himself,  he  knew,  he'd  thus  come  to  misguide.
He  went  his  way,  no  longer  dared  he  call.

The  people  shouted,  rumbling  to  and  fro,                                      2535
With  his  own  ears  he  heard  the  cry  they  made:
"Where  is  this  traitorous  tyrant,  this  Nero?"
He  went  half  crazy,  he  was  so  afraid,
As  to  his  gods  then  pitifully  he  prayed
For  help,  though  none  would  come.  So  terrified                          2540
That  he  felt  on  his  bier  already  laid,
He  ran  into  a  garden,  there  to  hide.

And  in  this  garden  he  two  fellows  found
Who  sat  beside  a  bonfire  great  and  red;
These  churls  he  begged,  he  asked  that  they  be  bound                2545
To  slay  him,  that  they  then  chop  off  his  head,
That  with  his  body,  after  he  was  dead,  
Spite  not  be  made  because  of  his  ill  fame.
But  Nero  had  to  slay  himself  instead,
Upon  which  Fortune  laughed  as  if  in  game.                                    2550


HOLOFERNES

There  was  no  other  captain  of  a  king
Who  brought  more  kingdoms  under  subjugation,
None  stronger  in  the  field  in  everything
In  his  own  time,  of  greater  reputation,
Not  one  more  arrogant  in  his  high  station,                                  2555
Than  Holofernes.  Fortune  kissed  him  to  it
With  wantonness,  led  him  through  every  nation,
Until  he  lost  his  head  before  he  knew  it.

Not  only  did  this  world  stand  thus  in  awe
For  fear  of  losing  goods  and  liberty,                                            2560
But  he  made  every  man  renounce  his  law;
"Nebuchadnezzar  is  our  god,"  said  he,
"No  other  god  on  earth  shall  worshipped  be."
Against  him  only  one  town  made  a  case:
Bethulia,  a  strong  community,                                                            2565
Eliachim  the  high  priest  of  the  place.

Take  notice  of  how  Holofernes  died:
Amid  his  soldiers  he  lay  drunk  one  night
Within  his  barnlike  tent  so  large  and  wide;
And  yet  for  all  his  pomp  and  all  his  might,                                2570
Judith,  a  woman  (as  he  lay  upright,
Asleep),  cut  off  his  head.  Then  from  his  tent
She  stole,  evading  every  soldier's  sight,
And  with  his  head  back  to  her  town  she  went.


KING  ANTIOCHUS  THE  ILLUSTRIOUS

What  need  to  tell  of  King  Antiochus,                                              2575
Of  all  his  high  and  royal  majesty,
His  lofty  pride,  his  works  so  venomous?
Another  such  a  one  was  not  to  be.
Go  read  of  who  he  was  in  Maccabee,
Read  there  the  words  he  spoke  so  full  of  pride,                        2580
And  why  he  fell  from  high  prosperity,
And  on  a  hill  how  wretchedly  he  died.

Fortune  had  so  ensconced  him  in  his  pride
That  truly  he  believed  he  might  attain
The  very  stars  that  shone  on  every  side,                                      2585
Weigh  in  the  scales  each  mountain  of  the  chain,
And  every  flood-tide  of  the  sea  constrain.
God's  people  he  especially  would  hate,  
Brought  death  to  them  in  torment  and  in  pain,
Believing  God  might  not  his  pride  abate.                                      2590

When  Nicanor  and  Timotheus  too
Had  by  the  Jews  been  vanquished  totally,
He  had  so  great  a  hatred  for  the  Jew
That  he  ordered  his  chariot  to  be
Prepared  at  once,  and  swore  avengingly                                          2595
That  right  away  upon  Jerusalem
He'd  wreak  his  ire  with  utmost  cruelty;
But  his  objective  soon  eluded  him.

God  for  his  threat  so  sorely  had  him  smitten
With  an  internal  wound  that  had  no  cure,                                      2600
Inside  his  gut  he  felt  so  cut  and  bitten
That  it  was  pain  he  hardly  could  endure.
This  vengeance  was  a  just  one,  to  be  sure,
For  many  a  fellow's  gut  had  felt  his  blow;
But  still,  his  evil  purpose  to  secure,                                          2605
He  wouldn't  be  deterred  despite  his  woe,

He  ordered  armed  immediately  his  host.
But  then,  before  he  knew  it,  God  once  more
Had  moved  against  his  pride  and  haughty  boast:
He  fell  out  of  his  chariot  as  it  bore.                                          2610
His  skin  and  limbs  the  tumble  scraped  and  tore
Till  he  could  neither  walk  nor  mount  to  ride;
Upon  a  chair  men  carried  off  the  floor
He  had  to  sit,  bruised  over  back  and  side.

The  wrath  of  God  had  smitten  him  so  cruelly                                2615
That  evil  worms  all  through  his  body  crept,
By  cause  of  which  he  stank  so  horribly
That  none  within  the  household  where  he  kept,
Whether  he  be  awake  or  when  he  slept,
Could  long  endure  his  smell.  In  this  abhorred                            2620
Condition,  this  mischance,  he  wailed  and  wept,
And  knew  of  every  creature  God  is  Lord.

To  all  his  host  and  to  himself  also
The  way  his  carcass  stank  would  sicken  till
No  one  could  even  bear  him  to  and  fro.                                          2625
And  in  this  stink,  this  horrid  painful  ill,
He  died  a  wretched  death  upon  a  hill.
And  so  this  evil  thief  and  homicide
Who  caused  so  many  others  tears  to  spill
Has  the  reward  that  goes  to  those  of  pride.                                2630


ALEXANDER

The  story  of  Alexander  is  so  well  known
That  part  if  not  the  tale's  entirety
Has  been  heard  once  by  everyone  who's  grown.
This  whole  wide  world,  to  speak  with  brevity,
He  won  by  strength  (or  by  celebrity,                                              2635
As  for  him  towns  in  peace  would  gladly  send).
The  pride  of  man  and  beast  wherever  he
Would  go  he  toppled,  to  this  world's  far  end.

There's  no  comparison  that  one  can  make,
Above  all  other  conquerors  he'd  tower;                                          2640
For  all  this  world  in  dread  of  him  would  quake,
Of  knighthood,  of  nobility  the  flower,
As  Fortune  made  him  heir  to  fame  and  power.
Save  wine  and  women,  nothing  might  arrest
His  zeal,  in  arms  and  labor,  to  devour;                                        2645
The  courage  of  a  lion  filled  his  breast.

Would  it  add  to  his  glory  if  I  told
Of  Darius  and  a  hundred  thousand  more--
The  kings,  the  princes,  dukes  and  earls  bold
Whom  he  fought  and  brought  under  heel  in  war?                            2650
As  far  as  man  had  ever  gone  before
The  world  was  his.  What  more  need  I  recall?
Were  I  to  write  or  tell  you  evermore
Of  his  knighthood,  I  couldn't  tell  it  all.

Twelve  years,  says  Maccabees,  he  reigned,  this  son                  2655
Of  Phillip  of  the  Macedonian  race,
As  king  of  Greece,  its  first  and  greatest  one.
O  worthy  Alexander,  of  noble  grace,
Alas,  such  sad  events  as  in  your  case!
By  your  own  men  poisoned,  the  six  you  threw                                2660
Has  Fortune  turned  instead  into  an  ace.
And  yet  she  hasn't  shed  one  tear  for  you.

Who'll  give  me  tears  sufficient  to  complain
Of  nobleness's  death,  of  the  demise
Of  one  who  held  the  world  as  his  domain                                        2665
Yet  thought  it  still  not  large  enough  in  size,
His  heart  always  so  full  of  enterprise?
Alas!  who  now  shall  help  me  as  I  name
False  Fortune  and  that  poison  I  despise
As  two  things  that  for  all  this  woe  I  blame?                              2670


JULIUS  CAESAR

Through  wisdom,  manhood,  and  great  labor's  throes,
From  humble  bed  to  royal  majesty
This  Julius  as  a  conqueror  arose.
For  he  won  all  the  West  by  land  and  sea,
By  strength  of  hand  and  by  diplomacy,                                            2675
And  made  each  realm  to  Rome  a  tributary;
And  then  of  Rome  the  emperor  was  he,
Till  Fortune  would  become  his  adversary.

O  mighty  Caesar,  who  in  Thessaly
Faced  Pompey,  your  own  father-in-law,  who  drew                          2680
About  him  in  the  East  all  chivalry
As  far  as  where  each  day  dawn  breaks  anew,
Through  your  knighthood  that  host  you  took  and  slew
(Except  the  few  who  then  with  Pompey  fled),
The  East  thereby  put  in  such  awe  of  you.                                      2685
Thank  Fortune  that  so  well  you  marched  ahead!

Here  I'll  bewail  a  little,  if  I  might,
Pompey  the  Great,  this  noble  governor
Of  Rome  who  from  the  fray  had  taken  flight.
One  of  his  men,  a  false  and  traitorous  cur,                                2690
Beheaded  him  that  he  might  win  the  favor
Of  Julius,  who  received  the  severed  head.
Alas,  Pompey  the  Eastern  conqueror,
That  to  such  end  by  Fortune  you  were  led!

To  Rome  again  repaired  this  Julius,                                                2695
With  laurel  crowned,  upon  his  victory.
Then  came  the  time  when  Brutus  Cassius,
Who  envied  Caesar's  high  prosperity,
Began  conspiring  in  full  secrecy
Against  his  life.  With  subtlety  he  chose                                      2700
The  place  of  death,  and  planned  that  it  should  be
By  way  of  daggers  as  I  shall  disclose.

This  Julius  to  the  Capitol  one  day
Had  made  his  way,  as  frequently  he  chose;
There  fell  upon  him  then  without  delay                                          2705
This  traitor  Brutus  and  his  other  foes,
Who  with  their  daggers  gave  him  several  blows
And  left  him  there  to  die  when  they  were  through.
He  groaned  at  but  one  stroke  for  all  his  throes,
Or  else  at  two,  if  all  his  tale  is  true.                                      2710

This  Julius  Caesar  was  so  manly  hearted
And  had  such  love  for  stately  probity
That,  even  as  his  wounds  so  sorely  smarted,
He  drew  his  mantle  over  hip  and  knee,
So  that  his  private  parts  no  one  could  see;                                2715
As  he  lay  in  a  daze,  the  deathly  kind,
And  knew  that  he  was  wounded  mortally,
Thoughts  of  decorum  still  were  in  his  mind.

Lucan,  you're  one  authority  I'll  note,
Suetonius,  Valerius  also,                                                                    2720
The  story's  fully  there  in  what  you  wrote
Of  these  two  conquerors;  to  them  we  know
That  Fortune  first  was  friend  and  later  foe.
No  man  can  put  trust  in  her  favor  long,
We  must  keep  both  eyes  on  her  as  we  go;                                        2725
These  conquerors  bear  witness  who  were  strong.


CROESUS

This  wealthy  Croesus,  once  the  Lydian  king
Whom  even  Persia's  Cyrus  held  in  dread,
Was  caught  in  pride  until  men  said  to  bring
Him  to  the  fire,  and  that's  where  he  was  led.                            2730
But  such  a  rain  the  clouds  above  then  shed,
The  fire  was  quenched  and  he  was  to  escape.
This  was  a  lesson,  though,  he  left  unread,
Till  Fortune  on  the  gallows  made  him  gape.

When  he  escaped,  the  urge  he  couldn't  stem                                  2735
To  go  and  start  a  whole  new  war  again.
And  well  he  might,  as  Fortune  sent  to  him
Such  good  luck  that  he'd  made  off  through  the  rain
Before  he  by  his  foes  could  there  be  slain.
There  also  was  a  dream  he  dreamt  one  night                                  2740
That  made  him  feel  so  eager,  proud,  and  vain,
On  vengeance  he  set  all  his  heart  and  might.

He  was  upon  a  tree,  in  dream  he  thought,
Where  Jupiter  bathed  him  down  every  side,
And  Phoebus  a  fair  towel  to  him  brought                                        2745
To  dry  himself.  This  added  to  his  pride,
And  of  his  daughter  standing  there  beside
Him--she  in  whom,  he  knew,  was  to  be  found
Great  insight--he  asked  what  it  signified,
And  she  at  once  his  dream  set  to  expound:                                    2750

"The  tree,"  she  said,  "the  gallows  signifies,
And  Jupiter  betokens  snow  and  rain,
And  Phoebus,  with  his  towel  so  clean,  implies
Beams  of  the  sun,  as  best  I  can  explain.
By  hanging,  Father,  surely  you'll  be  slain;                                2755
Washed  by  the  rain,  by  sun  you  shall  be  dried."
Such  was  the  warning  given,  short  and  plain,
By  Phania,  his  daughter  at  his  side.

And  hanged  indeed  was  Croesus,  that  proud  king,
His  royal  throne  to  him  was  no  avail.                                            2760
No  tragedies  may  signify  a  thing,
There's  naught  in  song  to  cry  out  and  bewail,
Except  that  Fortune  always  will  assail
With  sudden  stroke  the  kingdom  of  the  proud;
For  when  men  trust  her,  that's  when  she  will  fail                    2765
And  cover  her  bright  visage  with  a  cloud.
Here  the  Knight  stops  the  Monk  in  his  tale


Íîâ³ òâîðè