Betwen the lif and deth I herde This Prestes tale er I answerde, 290 And thanne I preide him forto seie His will, and I it wolde obeie After the forme of his apprise. Tho spak he tome in such a wise, And bad me that I scholde schrive As touchende of my wittes fyve, And schape that thei were amended Of that I hadde hem misdispended. For tho be proprely the gates, Thurgh whiche as to the herte algates 300 Comth alle thing unto the feire, Which may the mannes Soule empeire. And now this matiere is broght inne, Mi Sone, I thenke ferst beginne To wite how that thin yhe hath stonde, The which is, as I understonde, The moste principal of alle, Thurgh whom that peril mai befalle. And forto speke in loves kinde, Ful manye suche a man mai finde, 310 Whiche evere caste aboute here yhe, To loke if that thei myhte aspie Fulofte thing which hem ne toucheth, Bot only that here herte soucheth In hindringe of an other wiht; And thus ful many a worthi knyht And many a lusti lady bothe Have be fulofte sythe wrothe. So that an yhe is as a thief To love, and doth ful gret meschief; 320 And also for his oghne part Fulofte thilke firy Dart Of love, which that evere brenneth, Thurgh him into the herte renneth: And thus a mannes yhe ferst Himselve grieveth alther werst, And many a time that he knoweth Unto his oghne harm it groweth. Mi Sone, herkne now forthi A tale, to be war therby 330 Thin yhe forto kepe and warde, So that it passe noght his warde. Ovide telleth in his bok Ensample touchende of mislok, And seith hou whilom ther was on, A worthi lord, which Acteon Was hote, and he was cousin nyh To him that Thebes ferst on hyh Up sette, which king Cadme hyhte. This Acteon, as he wel myhte, 340 Above alle othre caste his chiere, And used it fro yer to yere, With Houndes and with grete Hornes Among the wodes and the thornes To make his hunting and his chace: Where him best thoghte in every place To finde gamen in his weie, Ther rod he forto hunte and pleie. So him befell upon a tide On his hunting as he cam ride, 350 In a Forest al one he was: He syh upon the grene gras The faire freisshe floures springe, He herde among the leves singe The Throstle with the nyhtingale: Thus er he wiste into a Dale He cam, wher was a litel plein, All round aboute wel besein With buisshes grene and Cedres hyhe; And ther withinne he caste his yhe. 360 Amidd the plein he syh a welle, So fair ther myhte noman telle, In which Diana naked stod To bathe and pleie hire in the flod With many a Nimphe, which hire serveth. Bot he his yhe awey ne swerveth Fro hire, which was naked al, And sche was wonder wroth withal, And him, as sche which was godesse, Forschop anon, and the liknesse 370 Sche made him taken of an Hert, Which was tofore hise houndes stert, That ronne besiliche aboute With many an horn and many a route, That maden mochel noise and cry: And ate laste unhappely This Hert his oghne houndes slowhe And him for vengance al todrowhe.