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Manual The Sixth Deadly Sin (John Raven)

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A way to bring all of our conflicting views together. A man walks past him in a blur, the skin on his torso half gone, his expression blank. Another grown man sits on a step and sobs, showing not even the toughest of toxic Westerosi masculinity can withstand an Apocalypse Frau. Jon Snow and Ser Davos Seaworth follow along, equally as grim.

This is a mission Tyrion must complete alone. Despite the pounding it took from Drogon, parts of the fortress seem relatively intact. Messed up on the inside, but shiny AF on the outside. Sure, Cersei may have been an ambitious, self-serving, megalomaniac, and Jaime was a misguided fanboi, but they were still family.

Its great bones remain intact despite the rockfall; the Targaryens have once again laid waste to its enemies. Down in the streets, Jon and Davos find Grey Worm summarily executing Lannister soldiers, despite their wholesale surrender. This conveniently allows Grey Worm to get on with his neck-slicing. Now clearly a lot more Dothraki survived the vanguard charge into those wights than it appeared. Jon half-limps his way across the square, finding the base of the stairs just as Grey Worm makes it to the top.

The woman of the hour arrives, flying in on regal Drogon-back. Thankfully the creatures appears to be out of Redheads Firestarters for the moment. Someone has managed to string up a Targaryen banner on a half-ruined wall, a visual symbol of her dominion over the capital. Wings go up, wings go down. Despite all this, her hair, almost fully braided now, harks back to her Khaleesi roots. Dothraki add braids to signify victory in battle, and Dany has about as much on her plait as anyone could handle.

She thanks them for keeping their promises to her: killing the men in their iron suits; tearing down their stone houses; and giving her the Seven Kingdoms. The Unsullied stomp their approval, and she turns to address them directly. And this is where it all gets a bit Nuremberg , except Dany must have better vocal projection than Hitler, as even the Fuhrer used amplified sound. We will not lay down our spears until we have liberated all the people of the world! Errrr, Dany? Perhaps a little intense? The Unsullied and Dothraki are deliriously excited, of course - well, as visibly excited as emotionless, highly-disciplined mercenary soldiers with their faces obscured by helmets can get.

Dany tells him he committed treason; he concurs, but adds that his crime was freeing one man who went on to die ; Dany meanwhile slaughtered the city. He stares after Dany as she stalks away, only to be punked by Arya who turns up, cat-like, by his side. She tells Jon that Dany knows his true origin story, and therefore will always see him as a threat. A blindly devoted Jon Snow would happily let Tyrion be marched off and summarily executed without the need for a final chinwag.

Perhaps Tyrion can be the little putsch he needs. The ensuing scene is pure, old school, dynamite Game of Thrones conversation porn. But Tyrion has drawn his line in the sand. His counsel and advice stopped once Dany had massacred more people in a single day than his evil father and sister had managed their in their whole lives. Negotiating through the stages of grief, Jon then tries denial.

For Dany, life has been a series of impressive victories over a series of villains: the slavers of Astapor; the nobles of Meereen; the revolting Dothraki khals. She should have seen it as a collective win for humanity; but it turns out Dany has gotten used to hogging the glory. Her disappointment at not being more feted was there in episode four, but perhaps more of it could have been made in the subsequent episodes.

Tyrion ruefully discovers an equally useful spoonerism - that sometimes duty is the death of love. Jon is really struggling now. It almost seems at this point like Jon might welcome execution - at least it would get him out of this mess. As Jon goes to leave, he tries one last gambit: the Sisters Stark. This episode really has a peak amount of Jon Snow striding about, and he does it again here, heading to the throne room to find Dany, and getting past Drogon, who had been sleeping covered in debris and ash and snow and goodness knows what else. Drogon sniffs Jon, recognising him as - well, maybe as a Targaryen, but at least as not posing a threat.

Upstairs, Dany appears in the gloom of the now destroyed great hall, her eyes fixed on the spiky swordy chair that has been her alpha and omega since her brother was crowned with gold at Vaes Dothrak; when she realised that it was she, not Viserys, who was the true dragon.

Her vision in the House of the Undying at the end of season two is now playing out in real time albeit with the throne room way more wrecked than in the hallucination. Unlike the vision though, Dany actually reaches out and touches one arm of the throne, one sword pommel twisted and shaped into position years before. She starts by opining on how much bigger the Throne seemed in her childhood imagination, an almost wistful reflection on how reality can never quite live up to expectations.

But before she goes any further, Jon angrily cuts her off by confronting her with the reality of her actions: Lannister prisoners being murdered in the streets; the burned bodies of children; Tyrion locked up awaiting execution. Jon begs her to forgive Tyrion, to forgive all of them, to show mercy after this brutal display of might. But Dany cannot. She has a single-minded focus and it does not allow for moderation along the way. Dany has lost any will to negotiate or compromise. And the thing is - she does. She has had advisers and counsellors and their advice and plans have often gone pear-shaped.

Dany promises Jon that she will build the better world, because she knows what is good, and Jon does too, despite his self-doubt. Dany makes her final pitch, that Jon should be with her, break the wheel with her, fulfil the destinies that they both came into the world. My gut goes with the man she loves, because their relationship and particularly this moment is a tragic romance. Jon loves Dany, loves her desperately, but has realised while she is brave and loyal and clever and inspiring, she has been warped by her quest for power. And so he tells her, truthfully, that she is his Queen, now and always.

Daenerys is visibly lifted by this confirmation of success: she has the crown, and the man. They embrace to confirm their love. Dany collapses, and once again Jon is left cradling the love of his life as her life ebbs away. The reign of the Dragon Queen is over before it could begin. Dany and her dragons were deeply connected, and so of course her last remaining child shows up immediately upon sensing something terrible has happened.

But Drogon instead turns his fiery breath on the wrecked walls of the Keep. Was this a deliberate choice by the dragon, creatures considered intelligent? Drogon certainly kept the heat on long enough to melt the Iron Throne from the face of the world, but he may have just chosen to catastrophically blast it because his mother was lying dead at its feet, or because it was the last object she touched. Jon still stuck his Mum with the pointy end - why does Drogon let that fly? I am, of course, generally pleased that the Iron Throne was reduced to a special effect from Terminator 2.

I had long been thinking that had Daenerys become the conquering queen of Westeros - in a good way - she might tear down this relic of her ancestors, representative of the old world, and rebuild it or replace it with something more reflective of her new one. Drogon scoops up Daenerys body, as tenderly as his massive back claw will allow, and takes flight, soaring out over the Blackwater, onward to places unknown.

As for Drogon, who knows? As for Daenerys herself, I think back on that vision she had in the House of the Undying. Once she left the Throne Room, she found herself crossing under The Wall - which could be a reference to going north to fight White Walkers in season seven - but then walks into her old Dothraki yurt, to find Khal Drogo and their baby son waiting for her. Perhaps now her spirit, or soul, or whatever you believe in, has returned to the Night Lands to ride with them forever - or at least it will if Drogon burns her body. Where she once tried to tame some of their wilder raping and pillaging ways, she wound up delivering a victory the great Khals could only imagine.

So perhaps in death, as in her triumphant final victory, she was more Dothraki than anything else. This is perhaps the most ridiculous GIF I've ever made. Sansa replies that she has an army of Northmen outside the city ready to defend their one-time king. Arya pulls a classic Arya move after Yara Greyjoy says the Ironborn pledged fealty to Daenerys, and would be happy for the Unsullied to give him what he deserves oh BOY fill in your own Natalie-ism here. He tells Grey Worm that Westeros owes the Unsullied a debt for helping defeat the Night King, and suggests they take up residency in the Reach and start a dynasty.

Somebody obviously failed to tell the Onion Knight that the Unsullied have no onions at all, not even a pair of shallots. Tyrion suggests the great lords and ladies assembled choose a monarch, and Grey Worm gruffly consents. Eventually Edmure Tully breaks the tension with an inspired bit of comedy - putting his own name forward.

The fact that it was Edmure was so, so perfect. Frankly he should be thankful he still has Riverrun. Laughter all around. Guffaws and giggles, and Sam looking a bit embarrassed through it all. I loved this. The concept of low-born people having a say in government remains is literally laughable to them, giving the whole moment a lovely touch of Monty Python about it. He says what unites people is not gold, nor armies, nor flags, but stories. No enemy can defeat a good story, and with his disability, his adventures beyond the Wall, and deep Three-Eyed Raven knowledge of history, who has a better one than Bran the Broken?

Sansa raises the objection that Bran cannot father children, but Tyrion sees that as nothing but a positive. He tells Grey Worm that was the wheel Daenerys wanted to break, the wheel of the unquestioned transfer of power. He tells the assembled lords and ladies that from now on, they shall choose the rulers of Westeros, making it at the very least, a meritocracy. Which is perhaps the best Westeros can expect. He then entreats Bran to take the title, despite knowing he does not want it. Bran is a great option for king.

Yes, there are a bunch of questions that crop up, such as, if Bran knew how this would all play out, did he act in ways to ensure it? Does that speak to a certain ambition? Did Bran engineer the situation so Jon would have to kill Dany? Thinking his work is done, Tyrion makes to head back to his cell, to await the judgement of the new king.

But Bran already knows just how perfectly to punish Tyrion - to make him his Hand. Grey Worm is also perturbed. Sucked in, Tyrion, but also, hooray. Now, Bran has returned the favour, making him serve the Realm as Varys once did. Cut to a small, dank prison cell, in which Jon Snow has been locked for long enough to finally shed the restrictive man bun that had been preventing his luscious curls from flowing freely. Charming, little lion, charming. He needs soothing, perhaps a sensual massage, to get over his self-hatred.

Don't mind me creeping. Together, he and Jon Snow took down a tyrant. But has the wheel really been broken? Only time can tell on that one. That scar is going to take longer to heal than the one I got from a jellyfish sting while swimming in Ha Long Bay ten years ago.

Tell you what, that was some fiery pain. Jon takes the long way around to the jetty, allowing us plenty of time to really absorb the majesty of his midnight-coloured mane. Jon is essentially apologising to Sansa for the lack of trust he had with her at times; not to mention the hostility he showed her when it came to Daenerys.

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Sansa knows it too; at the end of the day he is truly her brother. Years ago, he gave her a wry smile as he gave her Needle; he does the same again when asking if she still has it. They embrace tightly, and Jon seems reluctant to let go of his crazy, independent, definitely non-ladylike little sis. Jon kneels before Bran, and offers his apologies to the new king for not being there when he needed him.

He needed to be butt-nekkid on a boat with his auntie? I suppose I should stop banging on about this now, given that the banging on in question has stopped forever. Jon gives another rueful smile, and turns to take the tender out to his vessel, which will whisk him away forever. This scene has a touch of The Return of the King about it, you know the one where Frodo has about 18 goodbyes? Please understand the madness that was involved in this recap process. She has always loved Jaime selflessly, and despite her despair at his leaving her, she would have understood his twisted reasons why.

She may never forget the sting of it, but she clearly can forgive. We see her in elegant commander mode when she brings Bran in to a Small Council meeting, a scene that played with a delightful amount of humour and whimsy for me. Tyrion begins alone, at the old table they always used to sit at, in a Red Keep which is already suspiciously rebuilt. Is he just doing something with his hands to combat nerves, or getting an insight into why his father appreciated order? And this is his chance not just to impress, but to actually do some good. Sam Tarly, now the Grandmaester big promotion! The fact that Tyrion is not even mentioned in the chronicle is absolutely perfect.

It reflects the fact that sometimes history skips over important contributions for… what else The team then get on to issues of the day, including the need for an overhaul of the sewers, the rebuilding of ships under new Master of Ships Ser Davos Seaworth nominative determinism strikes again! Bless you, Bronn. You will keep life interesting in the capital while no doubt making a lot of interest. The little arguments and spats the group has as the camera pans back filled me with glee. Arya rolls up her maps and telescopes and begins tracking west onboard a sturdy ships flying the Stark banners.

Sansa is formally dressed in steel grey, with a motif of the blood red leaves of the weirwood tree stitched into her sleeves. She is crowned Queen in the North with her hair down, no hairstyles left to famously copy. At her coronation, Elizabeth wore her hair loose and long, the symbol of virginity. Sansa had her virginity brutally taken from her, but what she is showing here is still her purity. She is the right woman for the job, the right STARK for the job, and her flowing hair shows she has no airs and graces about it. But also -. The sides of her throne are carved direwolf sigils of House Stark!

The Northern throne is not flashy or threatening; just strong, solid and no-nonsense, like the people who live there. To see Sansa crowned Queen filled my with mixed emotions. I am so proud of the woman she is, for navigating her way through messed-up teenage years in which her agency and dignity was often stripped from her. She has held firm to her identity and created duty and purpose where she once had dreams and fantasies. And yet, she has become harder, more brittle. As much as we all hated snobby little Sansa, she was still an innocent girl.

She lost that innocence and it left a mark. I think she has a wise head on her shoulders; I pray to the Old Gods she always uses it. Perceptive readers may have picked up on subtle hints over the past eight years or so that I have always rather fancied Jon. Go back, re-read, you might spot them.

Events conspired to keep him away from Ranger status, but bumped up to Lord Commander, and to do something no other Lord Commander managed - make peace with the Free Folk. Not a reluctant king, nor a tortured bastard, nor a devotee to a misguided homicidal queen. The corners of his mouth lift ever slightly upwards as he turns back to face the Haunted Forest, the place where so many years ago the White Walkers made their first big attack for thousands of years.

Now he returns there with Free Folk, including many children, Ghost alongside him once more. But even if winter comes again, Jon will be there to guard the realms of men. I have loved this show, loved the characters, and loved the story, whatever was thrown at me, even when it was a bit undercooked like the Dornish storyline in season five , or slightly rushed arguably like portions of both seasons seven and eight.

Look at the cognitive dissonance many Australian voters felt after the May 18 election, which was won by the party widely tipped to lose badly. The fact that George R. That meant certain changes narratively, no doubt. But it also meant we ALL got to experience something for the first time, the book readers and the TV watchers.

We were all invested in the unknown ending. We all had passion. When I think back to that meeting in that community hall, what I remember is everybody being invested in a pathway, but with radically different ideas on how to walk that path - or where it should end up. What about what they think is good? I was asked after Game of Thrones concluded what lesson I had taken from the series, and my answer was instant:: life is shades of grey.

Not the 50 dodgy fake-porno BDSM ones, but real, maddening, complicated shades of light and dark. Bad people can do good things. Good people can do bad things. We are shaped by events we cannot control, and yet we all have immense potential to both create and destroy.

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No ending to Game of Thrones was ever going to be perfect. But what we got were some perfectly painted shades of grey. Thank you, beloved Throners, for your patience and your support. Our watch has ended Beloved Throners, I am so, so pleased with that final episode. There was no perfectly happy ending for everyone because this is Game of Thrones, you were never going to get that. There were, in fact, mostly new beginnings and challenges. I believe this recap, like the previous ones this season, will take me some time, so I wanted to provide an initial set of thoughts and reactions to help fill the gap.

This was an acting masterclass from the impeccable Peter Dinklage. Determined to go alone to the Red Keep to see if his brother managed to smuggle his sister out safely, he ends up deep beneath it, where the plummeting structure hit hardest. Anguish and tears follow when he digs in enough to reveal their beautiful and miraculously-not-too-busted-up faces.

He loathed his sister, but she was still family, and of course Jaime was his best friend and ally. His grief is palpable and real. The Dothraki and Unsullied seem pleased - as does her new Master of War Grey Worm - but Arya and Jon watch on with mounting horror, and Tyrion manages to rip off his Hand of the Queen badge in disgust before being seized for committing treason. Later, Jon visits Tyrion to have the awful conversation about what Dany has become. At some point she crossed a line, but when was it?

After which surprising and triumphant display of power? It was also a nod to us as the audience - we ALL cheered Dany along the way. We were like Tyrion; thinking we were right, but ultimately misdirected. Jon is not convinced Dany is the monster Tyrion accuses her of being; he still hopes for a different path.


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He hopes with every fibre of his sexy, rugged, being. Sorry, what was I saying?

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Full of passion, lament, despair and proper tragedy, Jon made the ultimate big call - killing his once and always Queen. Daenerys had touched the Iron Throne, but in a moment of self-reflection, chose to ponder her childhood focus on its size and alluded to it not being as imposing as her imagination had constructed it, particularly with the debris of the Red Keep around it. So Dany never sat in it, never felt the discomfort of its shape and feel.

Instead, she tried to convince Jon to join her in her quest to free all the enslaved peoples of the world, following a series of rules she laid out, because she knew what was right and good. Jon gave her numerous chances to prove his loyalty wrong, to show that she was capable of change and compromise after this horrific unjustified slaughter. With a deep kiss, he plunges his dagger into her heart, the most awkward incestuous kiss since Princess Leia laid the smackers on Luke Skywalker.

Dany dies in disbelief, the same way Jon himself went at the end of Season 5. What utter heartbreak I suffered when Drogon, sensing the loss of his mother, nudged her body with his nose, trying to rouse her. His reaction to roar in anger was understandable, but why did he choose the Iron Throne as his target for revenge burning? But although dragons are intelligent, is Drogon capable of understanding what the Iron Throne is, or means, or how it is in a fairly direct way responsible for Mumma going night-night?

The way he scooped up her body tenderly in one giant claw was also heart-breaking. He flew off, destination unknown, with his mother. He knows how to get there; Tyrion and Jorah saw him flying over it in Season 5. I think he has taken Dany back to her ancestral home; the home of the blood of the dragons. A twist that some may have seen coming especially Bran himself, the clever clogs , but one that I admit I was delighted to have thrust upon me now if only Jon Snow would thrust himself etc etc , happened in the extraordinarily calm blue daylight some weeks post-Destructathon.

That slap Sansa gave him sure worked a treat. With no King or Queen, he suggests Bran, the 2TB Hard Drive of Westeros, accept the Crown under a new system in which rulers are elected by the council, rather than inherit the title. Given Australia had an election just two days before this episode which left a number of people fairly dirty at democracy in general, I found this moment quite cathartic.

The compromise agreed to here was much more achievable in this medieval-esque world. But by what right? He killed a queen; perhaps he no longer has a right. The good he did in taking out Dany does not wipe clean the stain of her blood on his hands. Faced with general silence at the Great Council about whom should be the next king, good old Edmure shakes off two years of irrelevance and delivers the funniest pitch for selection since ex-rugby league player Mal Meninga announced in he was running for office - only to quit 28 seconds later.

Edmure even stumbled backwards into his chair, his nascent ambition neatly thwarted. There has never been a wetter blanket than poor Edmure Tully, but at least he had a shining moment as a brilliant court jester. But still, Castle Black is where Tormund Giantsbane and Ghost are, where the rest of the Free Folk are, waiting for the worst of the winter snows to pass before moving back north. Good doggo, Ghost. Good doggo. We last see Jon accompanying Tormund the Free Folk out beyond the Wall, the place where the whole story began.

Is he simply doing his duty and protecting them? And Jon's also beautiful. Sansa firmly negotiates with her brother - and new king - to keep the north as an independent state. She always wanted to be a Queen, but a Queen from fairy tales, who wore pretty frocks and served lemon cakes and stood proudly but dumbly next to a King. Everything Sansa has experienced and learned has put her in the best position to be the best ruler the North could ever hope for. And hopefully with her bro on the?

And so she does; flying a Stark sigil on her sails, she heads into the unknown once more. Lucky then for Jaime that he had Brienne still watching his back, despite his midnight bolt from their cosy bed at Winterfell. She paints him as the man of honour she knew, even when it comes to his death. Brienne is nothing if not tactful. And he wants to rebuild brothels instead of ships!

A good move? Who knows. But the action cuts away before he can deliver the punchline. Does anyone have one? My attempt is thus:. Don't forget this is your last chance to get onboard my Patreon if you want to support my writing. Thank you so much. I backed you last week. I said you left Brienne because your self-esteem had crashed and you had to go kill Cersei, or at least stop her path of destruction. I had your back, Kingslayer, and you repay me with the most mystifying change of mind since Bran became the Three-Eyed Raven. And SURE, it was bleakly poetic that these two moral vacuums should find each other again in time for the world to literally cave in on them.

But all that self-betterment Jaime did! All those self-help books and personal improvement courses and mantras on cassette! Awaken the Giant Within? You had a chance to let Cersei suffer for her crimes, turn a new leaf, and do good with Ser Brienne for the rest of your days. These all-too-familial relationships - one concluded, one further complicated - brought me to mind of another power couple, also distantly related.

In this episode, Dany turned her own fear of being alone into fear itself, expelling her pain outwards in a blaze of annihilation. The process never ends until we die. And the choices we make are ultimately our own responsibility. In terms of characters acting, well, out of character - those were stories we wrote in our own heads, narratives we created. Ultimately we want redemption arcs, we want people we like to turn to the light, we want there to be satisfying paybacks and victories. How long ago that feels. He was a spymaster and chief conspirer; when he visited Ned Stark in the Black Cells, I could never quite believe him when he said he served the realm.

Varys tells her they will try again tomorrow, and reminds her that the greater the risk, the greater the reward. He springs the idea of ruling on Jon, who realises his secret has got out.

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Tyrion goes in to see Dany in the tabletop gaming room, where she appears to be calculating a version of Cards Against Humanity in her head. She knows someone has betrayed her, but Tyrion is surprised when she says it was Jon. Tyrion says it was right for he and Varys to know that information to protect Dany.

We all know what road good intentions pave. Grey Worm and two Unsullied guards come for Varys that night, as he writes more letters by candlelight. He burns the most recent one, but one wonders whether he got any out. And who would he send them to? There are big power gaps all around the seven kingdoms. I liked the touch of Varys taking off his two rings, leaving them behind in a bowl. Tyrion confesses to Varys it was he who outed him to Dany.

Varys is not upset; he rolled his dice and got snake eyes. After so many successful outings at the craps table that is Westerosi politics, he had to bust out eventually. Tyrion looks genuinely miserable as he gives his friend and long-time intellectual sparring partner a pat goodbye. Dany believes the power lies with her, and with Drogon looming out of the blackness, it seems this time she is right. Oh Jon, I would never make you scared.

But Grey Worm tosses it on the fire. Torgo Nudho leaves Dany alone with Jon Snow, who once again vehemently denies he wants anything to do with the Iron Throne. Dany says his sister Sansa killed Varys just as much as she did by breaking her oath to Jon; and now the Lady of Winterfell knows what happens to people who try to act on the truth about Dany. She goes in for another snog, but Jon once again pulls away.

He pleads with his Queen to call off the attack should the people turn on Cersei, ring the bells and open the gates. Dany considers, and eventually nods her consent. As he leaves, Dany surprises Tyrion with the news that Jaime has been caught trying to cross Targaryen lines to get back to Cersei. Tyrion is in divided loyalty territory now. Ser Davos tells them on landing that the rearguard will arrive by daybreak. Tyrion says the Queen wants to attack now, but Jon shows some backbone and declares daybreak at the earliest. Tyrion asks Ser Davos Seaworth for a favour, something that will call on his smuggling skills.

Clearly the Unsullied are also trained in the speaking style of comedian Steven Wright along with the baby-killing and nads-removing. He pleads with his brother to make it life, and will help him escape as long as he convinces Cersei to leave with him by boat and sail away to a new life. He may be small, but in this moment Tyrion towers over everyone else in the land. The pair embrace for what they seem to know will be the final time, with Tyrion breaking down in tears.

The impending loss of that brotherly connection is more than Tyrion can bear. Unless you also spend your internet time in the black hole of beauty YouTube. The last time we saw a bell on Game of Thrones, it was the one from the Sept of Baelor, exploding out onto the street in a cloud of wildfire, crushing several peasants below. A newly escaped Jaime is there too, covering his face and hand in an effort to stave off further unwanted questions.

But it turns out this time, nobody will care. That was nearly a generation ago, so for many people they will be new to the sheer terror of a city-wide freak out, making it all the more intense. The Golden Company march out to form the first line of defence at the northern gate, Harry Strickland sitting confidently atop a white horse out front, not even bothering with a helmet. They face the northern forces, the Stark rearguard forming in place, as Tyrion, Jon and Davos keep watch.

Tyrion reminds Jon that the sound of bells means a surrender, and to call off his men. Jon nods. Ever the reluctant conqueror, he would wish to avoid as much bloodspill as possible. At the Red Keep, The Hound and Arya just make it inside before the gates close, pushing aside that mother and daughter the show has chosen to be our point of view inside the civilian population. They escape to the side before the crowd surges in against the doors, bringing to mind horrible images from the Hillsborough disaster of Jaime tries revealing his hand, but luck is not on his side, and no Lannister soldiers recognise him.

He flees the crowd to find a back way into the Red Keep. Something stirs in the clouds high above. Euron tries to shield his eyes from the sun, but this time conditions are batting for Dany. Both she and Drogon have learned from the mistakes that saw Rhaegal taken out, and they are not inclined to repeat them. Taking her cues from early airborne dogfighters, Dany dive bombs with the sun at her back, making it difficult for the Iron Fleet to get clear shots with their ballistas.

Drogon lets loose the first of what will be many streams of terror breath, then repeats and repeats. From the aerial shot, there looked like dozens of Iron Fleet ships in the Bay; despite the Iron Islands famous lack of trees. Drogon burns them all. Dany keeps Drogon close to the water, long enough for the Scorpions to be pointed low; she then breaks upwards as they fire. Dany told Grey Worm to wait for her signal to attack; he would know when it was time.

The Golden Company soldiers feel it, and start to look around. The gates blow out behind them, shattering stone all over the fancy mercenary army.

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Grey Worm and the Unsullied charge forward; knowing the nightmarish inferno is probably the sign they were waiting for. Harry Strickland manages to get up as his soldiers burn, but turns to run back towards the blaze as a horde of Dothraki screamers bears down upon him. Vale, Harry Strickland, you had about three lines in your minor appearances so late in the game. Sidebar: seeing so many Dothraki was something of a shock, was it not? I thought they had all been taken out in the first charge against the White Walkers during the Battle of Winterfell. The Stark men follow suit, while Dany and Drogon burn the remaining Golden Company members outside the gate, and take out all the Scorpions stationed on the battlements, as well as most of the battlements themselves.

We can see Tyrion picking a trail through mounds of bodies. Watching over all of this from the top of the Red Keep is Cersei, resplendent in red velvet and golden armour. Cersei: We just need one good shot. Qyburn: Ummm, so yeah, about that. The Scorpions have all been burned. Cersei: Well, Euron took down Rhaegal, he can do that again.

Now our fine fighting Lannister boys can get the job done! Grey Worm leads Jon Snow, Davos Seaworth and a phalanx of troops towards the Lannister army, and soon the two sides are facing off against each other across an intersection in front of the bell tower. The leadership group move to the front, and the two sides stare each other down. Dany lands Drogon atop a turret on the northern wall of the city, the dragon seemingly inexhaustible despite pumping more napalm into the atmosphere than Richard Nixon.

For a moment, there is silence, the score ceases. The Lannister men throw down their swords; a surrender. Tyrion can see the bell tower in front of him, and Dany on Drogon up to his right on the city walls. Yes, most of those she punished had blood on their hands as well. In her final march to the Iron Throne, she has lost two of her dragons, her close advisers Ser Jorah and Missandei of Narth, and half of her hard-won armies. She has lived her life with the one truth - that she was the true heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Now she has discovered that the one person she found love with turns out to have a better claim that her - not only by blood, but by the acclamation and love of the people.

Perhaps her fear of failing made her remember that her ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, did not have a claim to Westeros when he arrived years earlier. Stop it right now! Daenerys Stormborn has made many good choices, many decent choices, and they still happened. But the closer she got to the Iron Throne, the more tenuous her grip on why she wanted it became.

Now it is simply about possession, and destruction. She is removed from us as a human; we see only the fire made flesh, and the consequences of her terrible choice. Sidebar: It would have been nice for Bran "Three-Eyed Raven" Stark to give somebody, anybody, a heads-up about that vision he had over a dragon flying over King's Landing. Around season 4 or 5 the shot of a dragon shadow over the capital flashed through one of his visions; we finally saw how it happened in this episode.

Damnit, Bran, what's the use of you if you can't give Jon or Arya or even Dany herself a clue? But then, he wouldn't have felt scared by that shot as we did. Bran doesn't feel anything, least of all fear. Cersei still can, though. She stares out as Drogon approaches the Red Keep, and the truth begins to sink in. The people begin running again in the streets as the monster lets loose on the civilian population and their homes. A frenzy of bloodlust ensues, with the northmen and Unsullied running wild with pent-up fear, anger, and revenge.

Jon Snow experiences the turmoil in a dreamlike state of shock. But Jon is processing consequences - he has the brutal realisation that he leads a conquering invasion force, that the Lannister soldiers still standing and helping civilians where possible are trying to protect their home, just as Jon and the gang stood to defend Winterfell against the White Walkers, the great evil.

Now he is grappling with his new identity - is this what it means to be a Targaryen? Jaime Lannister finds his way to the secret entrance to the Red Keep, and finds the dinghy there, as promised. But he also finds Euron MacGregor, who managed to survive being blown off his vessel only to swim to this exact point of the shore at this exact time. The Kingslayer x2 manages to stumble off to climb his way into the Red Keep, while Euron dies ecstatic that he killed the Kingslayer. Vale Euron, you crazy bastard. She puts her hand in his, literally handing over her authority to him as to what happens next.

How great to see it one last time. He tells her Cersei is dead, no matter what happens, and Arya should go home. He even grabs her and makes her look at him, to see what life is for someone wholly motivated by revenge. You want to be like me? In that moment, Arya is not the stone-cold assassin, but a little girl again. He puts his giant hand around the back of her head, easily encasing her skull. What do we say to the God of Death? Not today. Vale Qyburn, you creepy bastard.

With all the annoying diplomacy of that occasion not here to stop their baser instincts, the pair begin their ultimate annihilation of each other. Their fight scene lives up to the Clegane Bowl hype, and exceptionally well-choreographed and shot. We all felt you in that moment, Sandor. Zombie Mountain goes for his finishing move, the one he pulled on Oberyn Martell pre-zombification - the double eye crusher.

He can barely see, but enough to know the Mountain is just calmly pulling the dagger out of his face, ready to recommence his assault once more. After a lifetime of being deathly afraid of fire, he pushes himself forward, and crash tackles his brother through the weakening wall behind them, and the two plummet out and down, into the flames, like Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty going over the Reichenbach Falls in the style of a WWE Hell in The Cell match.

They embrace, and no words need to be said between these hopelessly co-dependent twincestors. Jaime leads her all the way down to the caverns under the keep, where the skulls of dragons past are kept. Jaime leads Cersei to the tunnel out of the cavern, only to find it blocked by debris. He tries to find another way out, but they are stuck. Would it have been great to see Cersei stabbed by Arya? Maybe - but then Arya scolded the Freys for killing Talisa, a woman with a babe in her belly, before she murdered them all.

Could she have brought herself to do the same thing to Cersei? So who else was there to do it? Would it have been satisfying to have Euron kill her? For Qyburn or The Mountain to turn on her? For the mob to tear her to pieces in the street? Where would the emotional satisfaction be in that?

And what of Daenarys? Conceivably, a stand off between the two could have been great television. But we know how it would have ended - with Cersei being burned alive. I felt sorry for her in the same way I felt sorry for Joffrey when he died, despite four seasons of relishing in my hate for the little prick. These characters were terrible, they did dreadful things, they had golden looks but rotten cores.

He showed himself to be a man of honour; but still a man with a fatal flaw. If there is a figure worthy of Shakespearean tragedy in all this, surely it is Jaime Lannister. There are some incredible tracking shots of Arya scrambling through passages, courtyards and side streets trying to find some way out. Eventually she is knocked down, but the mother and daughter with the white horse toy help her back up, only for Arya to be immediately swept away from them again by the torrential sweep of terrified citizens.

As for Jon Snow, my beloved, still in the centre of the fighting, still in shock, sees caches of wildfire going up all around the city. These were no doubt leftovers Cersei had the pyromancers hang on to after she blew up the Sept of Baelor, you know, just in case. Turns out he was just twenty-something years too early. The Queen he loved, the Queen he bent the knee to, the Queen he insisted others would come to know and love, has gone rogue.

He always knew it was a possibility; he said as much to Varys at the beginning of the episode - "It is her choice. Arya wakes, covered in ash and shoot, in scenes eerily reminiscent of the September 11 terror attacks in New York. She coughs up half of Fleabottom realising the bell tower is about to fall on her. She manages to escape its plummet to earth, finding herself in an as-yet-untouched house, facing the same mother and daughter with the white horse. Arya insists they leave in order to survive.

But by taking the mother and daughter into the street, she unfortunately guaranteed their doom. In the mad rush, the mother is run over by Dothraki horses, the bloodriders cutting down anyone they see, their tradition for generations before Dany told them to behave better. But the girl snaps back, screams at Arya and runs back to her mother - as any scared child would. Arya dives behind a wall just in time to avoid the blow from Dragon that roasts the mother and daughter alive. When she wakes, Arya is the only survivor.

The hero of Winterfell, the girl who slayed the Night King - beaten and bloodied by the collapse of a city under dragonfire. Arya, not known for her emotions, cannot stop tears sliding down her ashen face. For the first time in a long time, she had put other people's safety over her own single-minded pursuit of her own murder-y goals. And when she failed them, she couldn't just be an expressionless killer. The Hound gave her back some of her humanity. And then, amidst the smoking and burning ruins, she hears a sound, and turns to find the white horse writ large. Like a miracle, the horse appears in the middle of the street, riderless, saddle-less, with blood on its body and burns on its legs.

Arya approaches the horse gently, and soothes the anxious beast. She mounts the horse and takes off, a lone figure, galloping out of the city, on her way to who knows what. White horses have all sorts of mythic properties, connected to both life and death in many cultures. What might Jon say to Dany if he sees his little sister actually cousin so badly beaten up from the sack of the city? And what might Dany say to the God of Death, if it comes in the form of a tiny assassin on horseback? So with apologies to Daryl Braithwaite , Arya gets a song as well:.

The girl has a name Stark of Winterfell, and from there she came. That's the way it's gonna be, little Arya Keep on riding those white horses, yeah yeah Your bro should be the guy, little Arya Jon may be dumb but pick him up, pick him up. Arya telling a confused Lannister soldier that "I'm Arya Stark. Tyrion: How did they find you? Jaime: shows golden hand Tyrion: Did you ever consider taking it off?

Jaime: Cersei once said I was the stupidest Lannister. The gore factor this episode rocketed up on the Battle of Winterfell, which to be fair was a lot darker. Here the blood glistened wet and red in the sunlight, as swords cut through torsos, heads were speared, and did I mention the dude who had both hands cut off?

Yes, there are issues of pacing, and disappointment that character development we have grown to cherish felt abandoned. But this is the story the way the writers and producers have chosen to tell it, and they are still doing shocking things to upturn our expectations. All of the heroes we built inside our minds were just that - our own creations, not theirs. I also get the sense some will be angry that the victory of women against their oppressors and tyrants in earlier seasons may have been undermined by the fall of Cersei and Dany into super villain territory.

But why do men get a monopoly on power corrupting? Dany did much that was right in her career as a conqueror. As mentioned, many of her brutal decisions were justified or at least understandable for this kind of world. But tyrants are sometimes good guys first. Daenerys has committed an unthinkable war crime, and it remains to be seen if she will escape any retribution - or if Arya or Jon or anyone else will deliver justice to her. Goodness me, kittens. I could be completely wrong on all of this. There has probably been a million recaps and reviews and critical think pieces released already that make better arguments than me.

I don't even know how funny this recap is, and god knows if I don't bring the funny, what's the use of me?! It's very late as I finally get this posted, so I want to say a special thank you to all readers for your patience, and a particular thank you to all of my Patreon subscribers for still paying me. I'm slightly stunned that there is only one more episode of Game of Thrones ever.

What am I going to do without you all!?!? The time is upon me to work out some other recap options - but first, let us dance with dragons one final time. Valar Morghulis! Yes, somebody brought a sip cup to a quaff party, and although it was quickly photoshopped out, the anachronistic gaffe went around the world faster than dragons can fly across Westeros. Clearly, a ton of Very Important Choices were made.

The whole bloody show is about choices. So this week I wanted to go a bit further, and dive deeper into a scribbled phrase I found in my watch notes:. I wrote it as Varys told Tyrion he was standing up for the realm, for the millions of people our grand lords and ladies never see but who are just as real and deserve to have their interests considered.

The coffee cup was real, in that it existed in the universe of Game of Thrones. It was there, on the bench. Physically in that world. Nobody in the universe did. Did it become real when Sansa broke an oath to tell Tyrion, a man who is in a prime position to potentially do something with the information? The coffee cup, unfortunately for some poor set dresser, was always there. For now, let us raise our horns and drink to the dead, the living, and the soon-to-be razed from the face of the earth.

Daenerys weeps over the corpse of Ser Jorah Mormont, her first and most loyal adviser and protector. Jorah knew her best; his loss cuts a tie between Dany and clarity of purpose, like the twang of a broken guitar string. Both women rejoin their squads; standing further apart than what you might expect after a battle that should by rights have brought them together.

Ghost is also there, looking a tad forlorn with a ripped right ear. Jon Snow steps forward to deliver a rousing speech, complete with a noticeably deeper timbre to his voice. All of our key characters take torches to light the pyres - seeing the faces of the lost one last time: Sam and last Lord Commander Dolorous Edd; Arya and warrior of light Beric; Jon and the little bear, Lyanna Mormont. It sets the tone between Sansa and Dany for the whole episode.

Gendry has cheery conversation with the Hound, who basically accuses him of having a post-battle boner despite the stench of death hanging over everything. The Hound seems to prefer comfort eating, and look, I can dig it. And frankly I prefer living with the cranky chicken-chewing Hound, rather than finding out if he does indeed do it doggy-style.

Gendry is floored, but accepts the honour - a clever bit of buying loyalty as Dany and Tyrion confirm.


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Gendry of course is mad with panic about moving from smithing to lording, so he does the only thing he can think of - runs through a debauched crowd of carousers to find Arya and propose. Any lady would be lucky to have you. We first saw him play with Shae and Bronn back in season one during the War of Five Kings, and if I recall correctly, he attempted to get Grey Worm and Missandei to play it with him in Meereen but they were too square.

Jon sits easily among people, lords and soldiers and wildlings alike. He perches on the head table swilling wine. Dany is awkwardly stiff and formal, wanting to preserve a level of authority and distance with her new northern people, but also turning green with envy at the way everyone adores Jon. Jon befriended wildlings! He got murdered and came back!

He got on the back of a dragon and rode it into battle! What a guy! Dany looks around the room and sees her hand Tyrion all warm and brotherly with Jaime - the man who killed her father - and the wildlings all feting Jon, the man with the better claim to the Iron Throne than she. Dany is still the outsider. And of a sudden Dany recognises where she is. There are kings and queens on paper of course; but their actions make them real.

Viserys was a waste of space; Dany was a true dragon. She freed slaves and stopped oppressors - that was real. But this is the North. The alternative was to start bawling or screaming, neither of which befits a dragon. Never-Ever is all fun and games, with the flirting escalating between Jaime and Brienne. I totally feel you, Brienne. Or something. She tries to leaves the table, saying she has to relieve herself.

He varies their dramatic effect by interlacing sentences with what Milton calls "the sense variously drawn out from one verse into another. I have avoided, except in the case of manifest deviations from the first sense, all interference with the spelling of those old words which are most likely to be mangled by transcribers and printers. Names of persons were very often broken on the rack. In all the editions of the "Confessio Amantis," from Caxton to Pauli, the Phrygian Dares appears as Frigidilles; and Epicurus, obviously paired in a line with his friend Menander, is called Epyloquorus.

In all the editions from Caxton to Pauli we read also of the plant under the star 'Cor Scorpionis,' that " His herbe is Astrology," where Astrology is a misprint for Aristolochy, Aristolochia. I have corrected one or two such errors, but have not meddled with forms of names which are as Gower may possibly himself have written them.

But who was Gower? John Gower, Chaucer's friend and fellow poet, may have been born about the yenr He died in the year , and was. His work as a writer for the outside world was ended by his blindness in the year , the year of Chaucer's death. A manor of Kentwell in Suffolk, which had belonged to Sir Robert Gower, found its way through a series of family arrangementnts into the possession of John Gower the poet. He was a feoffee of the Kentish manor of Aldington; he had a rental of ten pounds out of the manor of Wigborough in Essex; and he signed a will in the year at his own house in Kent, which was at Otford by the river Darent.

From until , John Gower, described not as priest but as clerk, held the rectory of Great Braxted in Essex. This was within a mile of that manor of Wigborough from which he drew ten pounds a year rental. Gower's social position gave him access to the Court. He was known personally to the King, and he held his rectory of Great Braxted as a grant from Richard the Second. He wrote Balades in French, which were designed chiefly for the pleasure of the Court.

But he was in his own way very much of a philosopher, and liked life best in his own home with his own thoughts and friends of his own choosing. He wrote three large poems, which agreed in having Latin titles. One of them-" Speculum Meditantis "-was in French; one-" Vox Clamantis "-was in Latin one-this our " Confessio Amantis "-was in English: these being the three languages then used by English writers. Some day, perhaps, a MS. A description of it was given in a MS.

It may have been especially this book which caused Chaucer to attach to his friend's name the epithet which has represented during many years for many a reader almost his whole stock of knowledge about John CGower;-that he was called " moral " by Geoffrey Chaucer. John Locke four or five times in an essay on Civil Government, written just after the English Revolution, with a half playful seriousness delivered shots from Richard Hooker out of a book which Locke's opponents looked upon as one of their own great fortress guns. When doing so he took pleasure in citing his author again and again as "the judicious Hooker.

Gower's " Confessio Amantis " was not written when Chaucer in the close of Troilus and Cressida dedicated that poem to him; and Troilus and Cressida seems also to have been written earlier than Gower's Latin poem, "Vox Clamantis," the Voice of One Crying. This poem was suggested by the Jack Straw Rebellion of May , which began at Gower's own doors, including people who lived on estates of his own in Kent and Essex.

Now John Gower was a country gentleman averse to all violent change. His bias was conservative. He looked with no favour on the Lollards, as passages in the " Confessio Amantis" show, and he felt keenly the danger of a triumph of mob law. But he said in his "Vox Clamantis " that no blind Fortune governs the. XV affairs of men; our world is as we make it; whatever happens to us, "nos sumus in causa.

This he would do in a poem that should speak through Latin to the educated, boldly pointing out wrongs to be righted without shaping war-cries for the ignorant All England would have echoed to that bold crying out on the condition of the clergy and the people if it had. In those verses Gower-a good orthodox Churchman-was outspoken in con-.

He was vigorous with calm invective of a righteous man who had wit and humour at command for use in homeliest plain speaking. God knows, my wish is to be useful; that is the prayer that directs my labour. No hatred urges me. In the Voice of my Crying there will be nothing doubtful, for every man's knowledge will be its best interpreter. It is difficult to know precisely when Gower's "Confessio Amantis" was first written. In its earliest form, as set forth in the Harleian hMS.

He had met the King's barge when rowing on the Thames, and Richard, having invited him on board, asked"That to his high6 worthynesse Some newe thing I shulde boke, That he himself it mighte loke After the forme of my writin-g. Hales has reasoned that the work could only have been thus undertaken, and completed-as it is in that first form-with a loyal dedication to Richard II. Such hope was possible only before the year In I the great barons of England were active under the lead of the King's uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, whom Gower in the Latin verse of a "Tripartite Chronicle " has honoured as the Swan.

Richard was then compelled to establish a Regency for twelve months. Professor Hales, looking for a date before I, finds several allusions that suggest to him the end of and the year as the time when the poem may have been first written. Afterwards in "the yere sixtenthe of King Richard," homage to the King was struck out of the beginning and end of the poem.

Bolingbroke — Henry of Lancaster-was addressed in his place, and Gower, like Langland, had turned his back upon an evil King whose deposition was the best hope of the country. The sixteenth year of King Richard, in which Gower changed the dedication of his poem, was the year In Gower is represented on his tomb as wearing the collar of SS with a small Swan chained; but Henry of Lancaster did not assume the Swan as his badge until after the murder of Gloucester in i The collar of SS must, therefore, have been a later gift.

In I, the year of Gloucester's murder, for which Richard was responsible, Gower resigned his Essex rectory, and resigned the world. Being then about seventy years old, he married Agnes Groundolf in a chapel of his own, under rooms to which he retired with her for the rest of his life within the Priory of St. Mary Overies, now known as St. Saviour's, on the Southwark side of London Bridge.

The old Priory was then being for the second time rebuilt, and ;ower contributed so liberally to the building works that upon his death in , after eleven years of residence among them-during eight of the years blind-the brethren built for him a handsome tomb, on which they carved his figure in effigy. They represented him with his head resting on the three books he had written, in French, Latin, and English.

They also paid him pious honour on a painted window which another kind of piety has since destroyed. The tomb remains. The effigy upon it helps us to recall him in his habit as he lived. But in this volume his mind lives again for friendly and familiar speech among all classes of his countrymen. In the "Confessio Amantis" Gower, of course, so chose his connecting matter that he might bring his tales into distinct groups, with each group armed for battle against one -of the Seven Deadly Sins.

He added one book more, based on a work popular in the Middle Ages, the "Secretum Secretorum," ascribed to Aristotle. It set forth the Duties of a King, and Gower inserted it because he was writing the poem for King Richard the Second, who was in much need of such instruction. Gower contrived also to mix with his stories much knowledge upon matters of philosophy and science. Indeed if we add all the record of what Aristotle taught Alexander to the other good doctrine of the Confessor, we have the substance of a fair education for any modern reader who does not mind being five B.

The book will have for many readers an interest, apart from its tales, in its pleasant record of the kind of knowledge that a well-trained man thought worth diffusing in the latter half of the fourteenth century. The reader to whom old English is new English will after experience of a few pages slip into Gower's music, and find his lines easier reading than some even of the good verse published in our time. In reading aloud these differences between old and new English should be remembered: i The old pronunciation of the vowels was nearer than it now is to the practice abroad, as its survival in our country dialects will help to show.

In the text here given 'whether' was generally written 'where' whe'er ; in other such words the reader makes the contraction for himself. The metre tells him when to do so. Itmay stand within the clause as the word 'also' does in modern English. Some of Gower's commonest forms, like 'sigh' for saw, will become quickly familiar. Because an equivocal word like 'not' for 'ne wot'-know not-might cause a stumble now and then, I have interpreted that and other such words rather often in the footnotes, the purpose of those notes being to interrupt the text as little as possible, while enabling the eye to take in at.

WANhere the same word often recurs, the explanation is repeated often but not always: often enough, it is hoped, for the convenience of a reader who dips into the book for a tale or two, and has not yet read it through. The only modernised word is the pronoun 'thee' in a few earlier pages of the volume. It had in Gower's time, like 'me,' only one 'e.

A few notes on the sources of Gower's Tales will be found in the Table of Contents. Of John Gower himself and of his works a fuller account than it is here possible to give will be found in the fourth volume of my "English Writers. Story of the Gorgons. The Serpent Aspides Isidore of Sevill,. Story of Mundus and Paulina XT VII cap. Boccaccio's second novel of the fourth day is of this tpe. Story of the Trojan Horse PAGES 3. Story of the Trump of Death. Story of Narcissus Story of the Wise Petronella.

Story of Acis and Galatea Gladness at Grief of others. Story of the Angel and Two Travellers Ico, I01 From the Fables of Avian. Story of the pious Constance Used by Chaucer in the. Story of Hercules and Dejanira. Agamemnon's taking of Briseis from Achilles. The Supplanting of Troilus with Cressida by Diomede Story of Amphitryon's personating Geta with Alcmene Story of Canace from Ovid, Heroides, Ep.

Gower against his own habitual good sense has by some aberration of mind here made his Confessor tolerant of incest. Chaucer condemns also the repulsive incident of King Antiochus in the story of Apollonius of Tyre. But that is necessary to the tale, and Gower does not there, or anywhere else than in the Tale of Canace, confuse the boundaries of right and wrong: I have dropped, however, here and there a few honest but unwholesome lines that no reader will mniss. Story of Tiresias and the Two Serpents.. Story of the Crow turned black Story of the Revenge of King Nauplius for the murder of his son Palamedes Story of Diogenes and Alexander I V cap.

Story of Pyramus and Thisbe Story of Phoebus and Daphne Story of Demophon and Acamas II65 Story of Orestes Delay of AEneas, that caused the Death of Dido. Delayed Return of Ulysses to Penelope.. I79 2. Story of Pygmalion, who, by giving his whole mind to it, made a stone live. I80, I8r 5F -onm Book X. Story of Phyllis and Demophon Story of Phaeton.. I87, From Book II. Story of Icarus Story of Rosiphele How Nauplius forced Ulysses to leave Penelope. I97 How Saul went to battle at Gilboa. Story of Ceix Story of Argus and Mercury Story of Iphis and Anaxarete Boo0 I'T.

Story of Midas Story of Tantalus Jealousy, the Avarice of Love. Story of Vulcan, Venus, and Mars Story of Virgil's Magic Mirror.. False Witness and Perjury. Story of Achilles and Deidamia Story of Phryxus and Hellen. Story of Echo.. Story of Babio, who lost the love of Viola Story of Bardus, the Fagot Gatherer Also in the Gesta Romanorum. Story of Theseus and Ariadne.. Violent Seizure. Story of Neptune and Cornix. Secret Theft. PAGES io.

Story of Nebuchadnezzar Story of the Abduction of Helen from the Temple of Venus The Praise of Liberality Story of Cupid the Blind Butler Story of Dives and Lazarus The Praise of Wisdom Teaching of Alexander. What Aristotle taught Alexander.. Story of the Bull of Perillus. Story of Gideon Story of Tarquin and Lucrece Story of Virginius Of Unlawful Love But for men sain, and sothe it is, That who that al of wisdom writ It dulleth ofte a mann6s wit To hem that shall it allday rede, For thilke cause if that ye rede I wold6 go the middel wey And write a boke betwene the twey Somwhat of lust, somwhat of lore, That of the lasse or of the more Som man may like of that I write.

I thenke and have it understonde, As it befell upon a tide, As thing which shuld6 tho betide, Under the town of newe Troy, Which toke of Brute his firste joy, In Themse, whan it was flowend, As I by bot6 came rowdnd So as Fortfine her time sette, Mly lege lord perchaunce I mette. And so befell as I came nigh Out of my bote, whan he me sigh, He bad me come into his barge. And whan I was with him at large, Amongds other thinges said He hath this charge upon me laid And bad me do my besinesse, 'hat to his highe worthynesse Some newe thing I shulde boke, That he him self it mighte loke After the forme of my writing.

And thus upon his commaunding Alin herte is well the more glad To write so as he me bad. And eke my fere is well the lasse, That none envid shall compasse Without a resonable wite1 To feigne and blame, that I write. A gentil herte his tunge stilleth 'Ihat it malice none distilleth But preise that is to be preised.

But he that hath his worde unpeised And handleth out wrong any thing, I pray unto the heven king Fro such6 tunges he me shilde. And netheles this world is wilde Of suche jangling, and what befalle. My kinges heste shall nought falle, That I in hope to deserve His thank ne shall his will observe And elles were I nought excused.

In sondry wise so diversed, That it wel nigh stant all reversed. Als for to speke of time ago, The cause why it chaungeth so It nedeth nought to specifie, The thing so open is at eye, That every man it may beholde. And netheles by daies olde, Whan that the bokes weren lever,1 Writinge was beloved ever Of hem that weren vertuous.

For here in erthc amonges us, If no man write howe it stood, The pris of hem that were good Shulde, as who saith, a great partie, Be lost; so for to magnifie The worthy princes that tho were The bokes shewen here and there Wherof the worlde ensampled is, And tho that diden then amis Through tiranny and cruelte, Right as they stonden in degre So was the writinge of the werke. Thus I which am a borel2 clerke Purpose for to write a boke After the worlde that whilom toke Long time in olde daids passed.

But for men sain it is now lassedcl In wors6 plight than it was tho, For that thing may nought be refused What that a king him selfe bit. But in proverbe I have herde say, That who that wel his werk beginneth, The rather a good end he winneth. And thus the prologue of my boke After the world that whilom toke, And eke somdele 6 after the newe I woll beginnd for to newe. I thenke for to touche also The world which neweth every day, So as I can, so as I may. Though I sikenesse have upon honde And longe have had, yet wvol I fondel To write and do my besinesse, That in some part, so as I gesse, The wise man may ben advised.

For this Prologue is so assised, That it to Wisdome all belongeth; That wise man that it underfongeth He shal drawe into rem6mbraunce The fortune of this worldes chaunce, The which no man in his persone May know6e, but the God alone. Whan the Prologue is so dispended, This boke shall afterward ben ended Of Love, which doth many a wonder And many a wise man hath put under; And in this wise I thenke to treatc Towardes hem, that now be greate, Betwene the vertue and the vice Which longeth unto this office. But for my wittes ben to smale To tellen every mannes tale, This boke, upon amendement, To stonde at his commaundement, With whom min herte is of accorde, I sende unto min owne lorde WVhich of Lancastre is Henry named.

The highe god hath him proclamed Full of knighthod and alle grace. So wolde I now this werke embrace With hol truste and with hol beleve: God graunte I mote it well acheve. Tho was knighthode in pris by name, Wherof the wide worldes fame Write in croniques is yet witholde. The citees knewen no debate, The people stode in obeisauince Under the reule of governaunce, And pees, with rightwisnesse keste, With charit6 tho stode in reste, Of mannes herte the cordge Was sheweed than in the visage. The word was liche to the conceipte Withoute semblaunt of deceipte Tho was there unenvfied love, Tho was vertuie set above, And vice was put under fote.

Now stant the crope under the rote, The worlde is chaunged overall, And therof moste in speciall That Lovc is falle into discorclc. And that I take into recorde Of every lond for his partie The comun vois, which may nought lie, Nought upon one, but upon alle It is that men now clepe and calle And sain, that regnes ben devided, In stede of love is hate guided, The werre 2 wol no pees purchacc, And lawe hath take her double face, So that justice out of the wey With rightwisnesse is gone awe-.

And thus, to loke on every halve,: Men sene the sor6 without salve, Whiche al the worlde hath overtake. Ther is no regne of alle out take,4 1 IVitholde, held or kept with us. The heven wot what is to done. And if they stonden both in one, To hope it wer6 than anone That God his grac6 wolde sende To make of thilkc wverre an encle, Whiche every day now groweth newe, — And that is gretely for to rewe, In speciall for Crist6s sake, Which wolde his owne life forsake Amonge the men to yeven pees.

But for to loke at all assaies, To him, that wolde reson seche After the comun worldes speche, I Dele, share. Btt, unless. It is to wonder of thilke werre, In which none wote who hath the werre. Unto the God first they besoughten As to the substaunce of here scole, That they ne sholden nought befole Her witte upon none erthly werkes, Whiche were ayein th'estate of clerkes, And that they mighten flee the vice, Which Simon hath in his office, Wherof he taketh golde in honde.

For thilke time, I understonde, The Lumbarde made non eschaunge The bisshopriches for to chaunge, Ne yet a letter for to sende For dignite ne for provende 1 That war in which none knows who has the worse. Or cured or withoute cure, The chirche keie in adventure Of armes and of brigantaille 1 Stood no thing than upon bataille, To fight or for to make cheste 2 It thought hem thanne nought hondste.

But of simplesce and pacience They maden thanne no defence. The courte of worldly regalie To hem was thanne no bailie. The vain hon6urwas noughtdesired, Which hath the proude herte fired. Humilit6 was tho witholde And prid6 was a vice holde. They were eke chast in word and dede, Wherof the people ensample toke.

Their lust was al upon the boke, Or for to preche or for to preie To wisse 4 men the righte weie Of such as stode of trouth unlered. Lo, thus was Peters barge stered Of hem that thilke tim6 5 were. And thus came first to mannes ere The feith of Criste, and alle good Through hem that thanne weren good And sobre and chaste and large and wise. And now, men sain, is other wise. Simon the cause hath undertake, The world6s swerde on hond is take.

And that is wonder neth6les, Whan Criste him self hath bodeG pees And set it in his Testament, How now that holy chirche is went Of that here lawe positife, 1 Brigantaille, armour. But while the lawe is reuled so That clerkds to the werre entende, I not2 how that they shall amende The woful worlde, in other thinges To makd pees betwen the kinges After the lawe of charitd, Which is the propre duetd Belongend unto the presthode. But as it thinketh to manhode, The heven is fer, the worlde is nigh, And vainglorye is eke so sligh,t Which covetise hath now witholde,4 That they none other thing beholde But only that they mighten winne.

And thus the werres they beginne, Wherof the holy chirche is taxed, That in the point as it is axed The disme 5 goth to the bataile, As though Crist mightd nought availe To don hem right by other weie. Into the swerd the chirchd keie Is torndd, and the holy bede Into cursinge, and every stede Whiche sholdd stonde upon the feith And to this cause an erd leyth Astondd is of the quarele. That 6 sholde be the worldes hele Is now, men sain, the pestilence, Which hath exildd pacience Fro the clergie in speciall.

And that is shewed overall In any thing whan they be greved. But if Gregoird be beleved 1 For the transitory goods of this world. As it is in the bokes write, He dothe us somdele for to wite I The cause of thilke prelacie, Where God isnought ofcompaignie. For every werke as it is founded Shall stonde, or elles be confounded. Who that only for Cristes sake Desireth cure for to take And nought for pride of tlilke estate To beare a name of a prelate, He shal by reson do profite In holy chirche, upon the plite That he hath set his conscience.

But in the worldes reverence Ther ben of suchd many glade Whan they to thilke estate ben made, Nought for the merite of the charge But for they wvolde hem self discharge Of poudrte and becomd grete; And thus for pompe and for beyete - The scribe and eke the pharisee Of MoYses upon the see In the chaire on high ben set, Wherof the feith is oftd let Whiche is betaken 4 hem to kepe. In Cristds cause all day they slepe, But of the worlde is nought foryete. For wel is him that now may gete Office in court to be honoured.

The stronge cofre hath al devoured Under the keie of avarice The tresor of the benefice, Wherof the pouer5 shulden clothe And eteand drinkeand house bothe. The charite goth all unknowe, For they no greine of pite sowe, And slouthd kepeth the librarie Which longeth to the seintuarie. I Doth us somdele for to oite, causes us in some part to know. To studie upon tile worldds lore Sufficeth now withoute more. Delfcacie his swete tothe Hath soffred so that it fordothe Of abstinence al that ther is.

And for to loken over this, If Etna brenne in the clergie, Al openly to mannes eye At Avignon thexperidnce Therof hath yove an evidence Of that men seen hem so devided. And yet the cause is nought decided, But it is saide and ever shall: Bitwen two stooles is the fall, Whan that men wenen best to sitte. In holy chirche of suche a slitte Is for to rewe unto us alle. God graunte it mote wel befalle Towardes him which hath the trouth. But ofte is seen, that mochel slouth, Whan men ben drunken of the cuppe, Doth mochel harme whan fire is uppe, But if somwho the flamme staunche; And so to speke upon this braunche Which proud envie hath made to springe Of scisme, causeth for to bringe This newe secte of Lollardie, And also many an heresie, Among the clerkes in hem selve.

It were better dike and delve And stonde upon the righte feith Than knowe al that the Bible saith And erre as some clerkes do. Upon the hond to were a shoe And set upon the foot a glove, Accordeth nought to the behove Of resonable mannes use. If men behelden the vertuse, That Criste in erthe taught us here, They shulden nought in such manere 1 Bit if unless. Among hem that ben holden wise The papacie so desguise Upon divers election, Whiche stant after thaffection Of sondry londes al aboute.

But whan God wol it shal were oute, For trouth mot stonden atte laste. But yet they argumenten faste Upon the Pope and his estate, Wherof they fallen in great debate. This clerk saith yea, that other nay, And thus they drivd forth the day; And eche of hem him self amendeth O fworldesgood: butnone entendeth To that which comun profite were. They sain, that God is mighty there, And shal ordeine what he wille; There make they none other skille, Where is the perill of the feith: But every clerke his herte leith To kepe his worlde in speciall; And of the cause generall Whiche unto holy chirche longeth, Is none of hem that underfongeth 1 To shapen any resistance.

And thus the right hath no defence, But there I love, there I holde. The sharp6 pricke in stede of salve They usen now, wherof the hele' They hurte of that they shulden hele. And though there be none other skille, 1 Uniderfongeth, undertakes, ' Beware, spend. Hele, heel. And upon this also men sain That fro the leese whiche is pleine, Into the breres they forcacche Here orf, for that theywolden lacche With such duresse and so bereve That shal upon the thornes leve Of wullewhiche the brere hath tore,1 Wherof the sheep ben al to-tore, Of that the herdes make hem lese.

For if the wolf come in the wev, Their gostly staf is then awey, Wherof they shulde her flock defende. But if the pouer sheep offende In any thing, though it be lite,3 They ben al redy for to smite; And thus, howe ever that they tale, The strokes falle upon the smale, And upon other that bene greate Hem lacketh herte for to beate, So that under the clerk6s lawe Men seen the merel al misdrawe. That from' the meadow which is open plain they hunt their flock into the briars, because they would seize profit by such hard treatment and so rob them of wool that the briar has torn.

But they gone in the rightC weie. There bene also somme as men saie, That folwen Simon atte heles - Whose cartd goeth upon wheles i Of covetise and worldes pride,; And holy chirch6 goth beside, ' Whiche sheweth outwarde a visige Of that is nought in the corage. For if men loke in holy chirche Betwene the worde and that they wirche, There is a ful great difference. They prechen us in audience, That noman shall his soule empeire,' For al is but a chery feire2 This worldes good, so as they telle. Also they sain there is an helle, Whiche unto mannes sinne is due, And bidden us therfore escheue That wicked is, and do the good.

Who that her wordEs understood It thinketh they wolden do the same; But yet betwene ernest and game Ful oft it torneth other wise. With holy tales they devise, How meritory is thilke dede Of charit6 to clothe and fede The pouer folke, and for to parte The worldds good, but they departe Ne thenken nought' fro that they have. Also they sain, good is to save With penaunce and with abstinence Of chastit6 the continence. But pleinly for to speke of that, I not 4 how thilke body fat, Which they with deint6 met6s kepe, And lein it softe for to slepe, i Ezeire, damage.

Th7zey departe ne thenken 7noz0gh7, they do not think of distributing. Whan it hath elles of his wille, With chastite shall stonde stille. And netheles I can nought say In aunter 1 if that I missay Touchend of this, how ever it stonde, I here and wol nought understonde, For therof have I nought to done. But what as any man can accuse, This may reson of trouthe excuse. The vice of hem that ben ungood Is no reproef unto the good. For every man his owne werkes Shallbeare, andthus as of the clerkes The goode men ben to commende, And all these other God amende!

For they ben to the worldes eye The mirrour of ensamplarie To reulen and to taken hede Betwene the men and the Godhede. But often for defaute of bondes Al sodeinlich er it be wist A tonn6, whan his lie arist,2 To-breketh, and renneth al aboute Whiche ellds sholde nought gone oute. And eke ful ofte a litel scar Upon a banke, er men be ware, Let in the streme which with gret paine, If ever, man it shal restraine.

Where lawd lacketh errour groweth, He is nought wise who that ne troweth, For it hath proved oft er this. And thus the comun clamour is 1 In azuzer, peradventure. In every lond where people dwelleth And eche in his compleinte telleth, How that the worlde is al miswent. And therupon his argument Yeveth every man in sondry wise. But what man wolde him self avise His conscience and nought misuse, He may well at the first excuse His God, whiche ever stant in one, In Him there is defaut6 none.

So must it stonde upon us selve, Nought only upon ten ne twelve, But plenerlich 1 upon us alle, For man is cause of that shal falle. The worlde as of his propre kinde Was ever untrew, and as the blinde Improperlich he demeth fame, He blameth that is nought to blame Andpreiseth that is noughttopreise. Thus whan he shall the thinges peise,3 Ther is deceipte in his balaunce And al is that the variaunce Of us, that shulde us better avise. For after that we fall and rise The worlde ariste and falleth with al, So that the man is over al His owne cause of wele and wo.

That we Fortune clep6 so Out of the man him selfe it groweth. And who that other wise troweth Beholde the people of Israel. For ever while they deden wel Fortuned was hem debonaire; And whan they deden the contraire Fortune was contrariende. So that it proveth wel at ende, 1 Pienerlich, fully. So hath ther no man al his wille, Als far as ever a man may knowe There lasteth no thing- but athrowe.

Wherof I finde in special A tal6 writen in the Bible, Which must nedes be credible, And that as in conclusion Saith, that upon division Stant why no worldes thing may laste Til it be drive to the laste, And fro the firste regne of all Unto this day how so befall Of that the regnes be meva'ble, The man him self hath be coupable, Whiche of his propre governaunce Fortuineth al the world6s chaunce. The high almighty purveiaunce, In whose etern6 r6membrafince From first was every thing pres6nt, He hath his prophecie sent In suche a wise, as thou shalt here, To Danidl of this matere, How that this world shal tome and wende Till it be falle unto his ende;Wherof the tale tell I shal In which it is betokened al.

As Nabugodonosor slepte A sweven 1 him toke, the whichc he kepte Til on the morwe he was arise, For he therof was sore agrise. His hed with al the necke also They were of fine gold, both6 two His brest, his shuldersand his armes Were al of silver, but the armes, The wombe and al down to the kne Of bras they were upon to se, His legges were al made of steel, So were his feet also somdele, And somdele part to hem was take Of erth6, which men pottds make.

The feble meind4 was with the strong, So might it nought wel stonde long. And tho me thoughte, that I sigh A great stone from an hill on high Fell down of sodein aventure Upon the feet of this figure, With which stone al to-broke was Gold, silver, erth6, steel and bras, That al was into pouder brought And so forth torned into nought. This was thesweven which he had, That Daniel anone arad And saide him: that figure straunge Betokeneth how the world shal chaunge And wax6 lasse worth and lasse, Til it to nought all over passe. The necke and hed, that weren golde, He saide how that betoken sholde 1 Sweven, dream.

Meind, mixed. A worthy worlde, a noble, a riche To which none after shal be liche. Of silver that was over forthe Shal ben a worlde of lasse worthe. And after that the wombe of bras Token of a wers worlde it was. The steel which he sigh afterward A world betokeneth more hard. And yet the werste of every dele Is last, than whan of erth and steel He sigh the feet departed1 so, For that betokeneth mochel wo.

Whan that the world devided is, It mot algate fare amis, For erth which meined is with steel To-gider may nought laste wele, But if that one that other waste, So mot it nedes fail in haste. The stone, whiche fro the hilly stage He sigh down falle on that ymage And hath it into pouder broke, That swev-en hath Daniel unloke And said, that it is Goddes might, Which, whan men wenc most upright To stond6, shal hem over caste.

And that is of this world the laste, And than a new6 shal beginne, From whiche a man shal never twinne Or al to paine or al to pees, That world shal laste endeles. Of golde the first regne of alle Was in that kinges time tho, And lastc many daies so. To Babiloine was subgite And helde him still in suche a plight, Til that the world began diverse.

And thus whan they it haddc wonne, The worlde of silver was begonne And that of gold was passed oute; And in this wise it goth aboute Into the regne of Dariis, And than it fell to Perse thus. There Alisaundre put hem under, Which wroght of armes many a wonder, So that the monarchfie lefte With Grecs and here estate up lefte, And Persiens gone under fote, So suffre they that nedes mote.

And tho the world began of bras, And that of silver ended was, But for the tim6 thus it laste, Til it befelld, that at laste This king, whan that his day was come, With strength of deth wasovercome. WVhere Rome thann6 wolde assaile, There mighte no thing contrevaile, But every contre must obeie: Tho goth the regne of bras aweic And comen is the worlde of steel, And stode above upon the whele. As steel is hardest in his kinde Above al other that men finde Of metals, such was Rome tho The mightiest and laste so Long time amonge's the Romains, Til they become so vilains, That the fals emperouir Leo With Constantin his sone also The patrimonie and the richesse, Which to Silvester in pure almesse The firste Constantinus lefte, Fro holy chirche they berefte.

But Adrian, which Pop6 was And sawe the mischef of this cas, Goth into Fraunce for to pleine And praicth the great Charlemaine For Cristes sake and soule hele, That he wol take the quarele Of holy chirche in his defence, And Charles, for the reverence Of God, the cause hath undertake And with his host the waie hath take Over the mountes of Lumbardie.

And thus whan he his God hath served, He toke, as he hath well deserved, The diademe and was coroned Of Rome, and thus was aband6ned Thempire, whiche came never ayeine Into the hande of no Romaine. But a long time it stode so stille Under the Frensshe kinges wille, Til that Fortfine her whele so lad,! But in proverbe netheles Men sain; ful seldome is, that welthe Can suffre his owne estate in helthe, And that was in the Lumbardes sene, Suche comun strife was hem betwene 1 N0rome, took.

Through covetise and through envie, That every man drough his partie, Which mighte leden any route WVithinne bourgh and eke withoute. The comun right hath no felawe, So that the governaunce of lawe Was lost; and for necessite Of that they stode in suche degre Al only through division Hem nedeth in conclusion Of straunge londes helpe beside, And thus for they hem self divide And stonden out of reule uneven, Of Alemaine princes seven They chose, in this condici6n, That upon here election Thempire of Rome sholde stonde.

And thus they left it out of honde For lacke of grace, and it forsoke That Alemains upon hem toke. And to confermen here estate Of that they stoden in debate, They token the possession After the composicion Among hem self, and ther upon They made an Emperour anon, Whos name as the cronique telleth Was Othes, and so forth it dwelleth, Fro thilke daie yet unto this, Thempire of Rome hath ben and is To thalemains: and in this wise As ye to-fore have herd devise 1 How Daniel the sweven 2 expoundeth Of that ymage, on whom he foundeth The world whichafter sholde falle,Comen is the last token of alle.

And that is for to rewe sore, For alwey sithle more and more The worlde empeireth 2 every day, Wherof the sothe shewe may. At Rome first if we beginne, The walle and al the citee withinne Stant in ruine and in decds, The feld is where the palais was, The towtn is wast, and over that If we beholden thilke estate Whiche whilome was of the Romains, Of knighthod and of citizeins, To peise 3 now with that beforne, The chaf is take for the corne. And for to speke of Romes might Unnethes 4 stant ther ought upright Of worship or of worldes good, As it before time stood.

And why the worship is away If that a man the sothe shall say, The cause hath ben devisi6n, Which moder of confusion Is, where she cometh overall Nought only of the temporall But of the spiritual also. The dede proveth it is so, And hath do many daies er this, Through venim which that medled" is In holy chirche of erthely thing. For Crist him self maketh knowleching, That no man may togeder serve God and the World but if" he swerve Froward that one, and stonde unstable: And Cristes word may nought be fable.

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The thing so open is at theye, It nedeth nought to specifie 1 Sithe, since. Peise, weigh. But in this wise a man may lere1 How that the worlde is gone aboute, The whiche wel nigh is wered out After the forme of that figure, Which Daniel in his scripture Expoundeth as to-fore is tolde: Of bras, of silver and of golde The worlde is passed and agone, And nowe upon his olde tone2 It stant, of brutel3 erthe and steel The whiche accorden never a dele,4 So mot it nedes swerve aside As thing the which men seen divide.

Vcapozfet warit unto us alle And saith, that upon us is falle Thend of the world, so may we knowe This ymage is nigh overthrowe By which this world vas signified, That whilom was so magnified And nowe is olde and feble and vile, Full of mischefe and of perile, And stant divided eke also Lyke to the feet, that were so As I tolde of the statue above. And thus men seen, through lacke of Love Where as the lond divided is, It mot algate fare amis.

And now, to loke on every side, A man may se the world divide: The werres ben so generall Amonge the Cristen overall, That every man now secheth wreche,5 And yet these clerkes alday preche And sain, good dede may none be Whiche stant nought upon charite. I not 1 how charite sholde stonde Where dedly werre is taken on honde, But al this wo is cause of man The which that wit and reson can; And that in token and in witnesse, That ilke ymiige bare liknesse Of man, and of none other beste.

For first unto the mannes heste Was every creature ordeigned, But afterward it was restreigned; Whan that he fel they fellen eke, Whan he wex seke they wexen seke; For as the man hath passion Of sikenesse, in comparison So suffren other creatures. Lo, first the hevenly figures. And for to se the properte Of every thinge in his degre, Benethe forth amonge us here Al stant a like in this matere. The see nowe ebbeth and nowe it floweth, The lond now welketh and now it groweth; Nowv be the trees with leves grene, Now they be bare and no thing sene; Now be there lusty somer floures, Now be there stormy winter shoures; 1.

Now be the daies, now the nightes, So stant there no thing al uprightes: Nowe it is light, nowe it is derke, And thus stant al the worldes werke After the disposicion Of man, and his condici6n. Forthy1 Gregoire in his morall Saith, that a man in speciall The lasse worlde 2 is properly; And that he proveth redily.

For man of soule resonable Is to an angel resemblable; And lyke to beste, he hath feling And lyke to tres, he hath growing. The stones ben, and so is he, Thus of his propre qualite The man, as telleth the clergie, Is as a worlde in his partie; And whan this litel world mistorneth The grete worlde al overtorneth. The lond, the see, the firmament They axen alle jugement Ayein the man, and make him warre, Ther while him selfe stant out of harre 3 The remenaun t wvol nought accorde: And in this wise as I recorde The man is cause of alle wo, Why this worlde is divided so.

Divisi6n the gospel saith One house upon an other laith, Til that the regne al overthrowe. And thus may every man wel knowe Divisibn aboven alle Is thing which maketh the world to falle And ever bath do, sith it began; It may firste prove upon a man. The which for his complexion Is made upon division 1 Fo'rthz for that.

Of cold of hot of moist of drie, He mot by verry kinde 1 die.

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For the contraire of his estate Stant evermore in such debate, Til that a part be overcome There may no final pees be nome. A But otherwise if a man were Made al togeder of one matere Withouten interrupcion, There shulde no corrupcion Engendre upon that unite; But for there is diversite Within him selfe, he may noug-ht laste That he ne deieth at the laste. But in a man yet over this Full great division there is, Through which that he is ever in strife While that him lasteth any life. The body and the soule also Among hem ben divided so, Thatwhat thing that the bodyhateth The soule loveth and debateth.

But netheles ful ofte is sene Of Jwerre whiche is hem betwene, The feble hath wonne the victoirc; And whoso draweth into memoire What hath befalle of olde and nevwe He may that 'werre sord rewe; Which first began in paradis: For there was proved what it is And what dises6 there it wrought, For thilke werre tho 3 forth brought The vice of alle dedly sinne Through which division came inne Among the men in erth6 here, And was the cause and the matere, Why God the grete flodes scnde Of all the world and 4 made an cnde 1 A7indc, nature..

And over that through sinne it come, That Nembroth such emprise nome, Vhan he the toure Babel on hight Let make, as he that wolde fight Ayein the high6 goddes might, Wherof devided anon right Was the languige in suche entent There wiste non what other ment, So that the mighten nought procede. And thus it stant of every dede Where sinne taketh the case on honde It may upright nought longe stonde, For sinne of her condicin Is mother of divisi6n, And token lwhan the world shall faile. For so saith Crist withoute faile, That nigh upon the worldes ende Pees and accorde away shall wende And alle charitd shall cease Among the men, and hate encrease.

And whan these tokens ben befall All sodeinly the stone shall fall, As Daniel it hath beknowe, Which all this world shal overthrowe: And every man shall than arise To joie or elles to juise,l Where that he shall for ever dwell, Or straight to heven or straight to hell. In heven is pees and al accorde, But helle is full of such discorde That there may be no Love day. Love-day, day of peacemlakiing by slub mitting quarrels to the judgment of a Christian iii ster. J;, for that. Echone to sette pees with other And loven as his owne brother, So may he winn6 worldes welthe And afterwarde his soule helthe.

But wolde god that now were one An other suche as Arione, Whiche had an harpe of such tenmprure, And therto of so good mesfire He song, that he the bestes wilde Made of his note tame and milde, The hinde in pees with the le6n, The wolfe in pees w-ith the motton,1 The hare in pees stood with the hounde, And every man upon this groundc Whiche Arion that tilme herde, As well the lorde as the shepherdc, Hebrought hem all in good accorcl, So that the comun with the lorde And lord with the comnin also He sette in Love bothe two And put awey malencolie.

That was a lustie melodie Whan every man wvith other loug1lh. For whan men thenken to debate I not4 what other thinge is good; But wher that wisdom waxeth wood And reson torneth into rage, So that mestire0 upon outrage Hath set this worlde, it is to drede; For that bringethin the comun drede Whiche stant at every mannds dore. But wAhan the sharpnesse of the spore The horse side smit to sore It greveth oftc.

And now no more I J. Totnt , shoe;,. As for to speke of this matere, Which nonebut only God maystere. So were good if at this tyde That every man vpon his syde Besought and prayed for the peace Whiche is the cause of all incresse Of worshippe and ofworldeswelthe, Of hertes reste and soul6s helthe, Without peace stonde no thinggood, Forthy to Christ which shed his blood For peace byseketh alle men.

Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen. Joo 00e ]. For wit ne strengthe may nought helpe And he which elles wolde him yelpe Is rathest2 throwen under foote, Ther can no wight therof do bote. It hath and shal be evermore That Love is maister where he will, There can no life make other skill,0 For where as ever him list to set There is no might which him may let.

But what shall fallen atte laste, The sothe can no wisedom caste, But as it falleth upon chaunce, For if there ever was balaunce Whiche of Fortune stant governed, I may well leve as I am lerned That Love hath that baldunce on honde Whiche wol no reson understonde. For Love is blinde and may nought se, Forthy there may no certeinte Be sette upon his jugement. But as the whele aboute went He yeveth his graces undeserved, And fro that man which hath him served Ful ofte he taketh awey his fees; As he that plaieth at the dies 1 And therupon what shal befall He not,2 til that the chaunce fall Where3 he shall lese or he shal winne.

And thus full ofte men beginne That if they wisten what it ment Theywolde chaunge all here entent. For in good feith this wolde I rede,7 That every man ensample take Of wisedom which is him betake,8 And that he wote of good apprise 9 To teche it forth, for suche emprise 1 Dies, dice. S Betake, entrusted. Is for to preise: and therfore I Wol write and shewe all openly, How love and I togider mette, Wherof the worlde ensample fette May 1 after this, whan I am go, Of thilke unsely jolif wo, Whose reule stant out of the wey, iNow glad, and now gladnesse awey, And yet it may nought be withstonde For ought that men may understonde.

Now herken, who that woll it here, Of my fortune how that it ferde This enderday,2 as I forth ferde. And that was in the moneth of May, Whan every brid hath chose his make And thenketh his merthes for to make Of love, that he hath acheved. And for to speke of any spede a So wiste I me none other rede,4 But as it were a man forfare 5 Unto the wood I gan to fare, Nought forto sing6with the briddes, For whan I was the wood amiddes I fonde a swote grene pleine, And there I gan my wo compleine Wisshinge and wepinge allmin one'; For other mirthes made I none.

So hard me was that ilke throwe,7 That ofte sithes 8 overthrowe 1 Ensamtile fette may, may fetch example. Ofte sithes, many times. Now doth me 1 pleinly live or die, For certes suche a maladie As I now have, and longe have had. It mighte make a wvise man mad, If that it shuld6 longe endure. O Venus, quene of loves cure, Thou life, thou lust, thou mannes hele, Beholde my cause and my quarele And yef me some part of thy grace, So that I may finde in this place, If thou be gracious or none!

But he, that king, with eyen wrothe His chere aweiward fro me caste And forthe he passed attd laste But netheles er he forth wente A firy dart me thought he hente' And threwe it through min hert6 rote. But she, whiche is the source and welle Of wele or wo that shal betide To heni that loven, at that tide Abode, but for to tellen here She cast on ime no goodly chere, Thus neth6les to me she saide: 'What art thou, sonne?

M lMin Ietrte rote, the root of my heart.