Mi Sone, I have herd thi matiere, Of that thou hast thee schriven hiere: And forto speke of ydel fare, Me semeth that thou tharst noght care, Bot only that thou miht noght spede. And therof, Sone, I wol thee rede, Abyd, and haste noght to faste; Thi dees ben every dai to caste, Thou nost what chance schal betyde. Betre is to wayte upon the tyde 1780 Than rowe ayein the stremes stronge: For thogh so be thee thenketh longe, Per cas the revolucion Of hevene and thi condicion Ne be noght yit of on acord. Bot I dar make this record To Venus, whos Prest that I am, That sithen that I hidir cam To hiere, as sche me bad, thi lif, Wherof thou elles be gultif, 1790 Thou miht hierof thi conscience Excuse, and of gret diligence, Which thou to love hast so despended, Thou oghtest wel to be comended. Bot if so be that ther oght faile, Of that thou slowthest to travaile In armes forto ben absent, And for thou makst an argument Of that thou seidest hiere above, Hou Achilles thurgh strengthe of love 1800 Hise armes lefte for a throwe, Thou schalt an other tale knowe, Which is contraire, as thou schalt wite. For this a man mai finde write, Whan that knyhthode schal be werred, Lust mai noght thanne be preferred; The bedd mot thanne be forsake And Schield and spere on honde take, Which thing schal make hem after glade, Whan thei ben worthi knihtes made. 1810 Wherof, so as it comth to honde, A tale thou schalt understonde, Hou that a kniht schal armes suie, And for the while his ese eschuie. Upon knyhthode I rede thus, How whilom whan the king Nauplus, The fader of Palamades, Cam forto preien Ulixes With othre Gregois ek also, That he with hem to Troie go, 1820 Wher that the Siege scholde be, Anon upon Penolope His wif, whom that he loveth hote, Thenkende, wolde hem noght behote. Bot he schop thanne a wonder wyle, How that he scholde hem best beguile, So that he mihte duelle stille At home and welde his love at wille: Wherof erli the morwe day Out of his bedd, wher that he lay, 1830 Whan he was uppe, he gan to fare Into the field and loke and stare, As he which feigneth to be wod: He tok a plowh, wher that it stod, Wherinne anon in stede of Oxes He let do yoken grete foxes, And with gret salt the lond he siew. But Nauplus, which the cause kniew, Ayein the sleihte which he feigneth An other sleihte anon ordeigneth. 1840 And fell that time Ulixes hadde A chyld to Sone, and Nauplus radde How men that Sone taken scholde, And setten him upon the Molde, Wher that his fader hield the plowh, In thilke furgh which he tho drowh. For in such wise he thoghte assaie, Hou it Ulixes scholde paie, If that he were wod or non.