FullReads

But while that I beheld this sight,
I heard a noise approache blive,* *quickly
That far’d* as bees do in a hive, *went
Against their time of outflying;
Right such a manner murmuring,
For all the world, it seem’d to me.
Then gan I look about, and see
That there came entering the hall
A right great company withal,
And that of sundry regions,
Of all kinds and conditions
That dwell in earth under the moon,
Both poor and rich; and all so soon
As they were come into the hall,
They gan adown on knees to fall,
Before this ilke* noble queen, *same
And saide, “Grant us, Lady sheen,* *bright, lovely
Each of us of thy grace a boon.”* *favour
And some of them she granted soon,
And some she warned* well and fair, *refused
And some she granted the contrair* *contrary
Of their asking utterly;
But this I say you truely,
What that her cause was, I n’ist;* *wist not, know not
For of these folk full well I wist,
They hadde good fame each deserved,
Although they were diversely served.
Right as her sister, Dame Fortune,
Is wont to serven *in commune.* *commonly, usually*

Now hearken how she gan to pay
Them that gan of her grace to pray;
And right, lo! all this company
Saide sooth,* and not a lie. *truth
“Madame,” thus quoth they, “we be
Folk that here beseeche thee
That thou grant us now good fame,
And let our workes have good name
In full recompensatioun
Of good work, give us good renown
“I warn* it you,” quoth she anon; *refuse
“Ye get of me good fame none,
By God! and therefore go your way.”
“Alas,” quoth they, “and well-away!
Tell us what may your cause be.”
“For that it list* me not,” quoth she, *pleases
No wight shall speak of you, y-wis,
Good nor harm, nor that nor this.”

And with that word she gan to call
Her messenger, that was in hall,
And bade that he should faste go’n,
Upon pain to be blind anon,
For Aeolus, the god of wind;
“In Thrace there ye shall him find,
And bid him bring his clarioun,
That is full diverse of his soun’,
And it is called Cleare Laud,
With which he wont is to heraud* *proclaim
Them that me list y-praised be,
And also bid him how that he
Bring eke his other clarioun,
That hight* Slander in ev’ry town, *is called
With which he wont is to diffame* *defame, disparage
Them that me list, and do them shame.”
This messenger gan faste go’n,
And found where, in a cave of stone,
In a country that highte Thrace,
This Aeolus, *with harde grace,* *Evil favour attend him!*
Helde the windes in distress,* *constraint
And gan them under him to press,
That they began as bears to roar,
He bound and pressed them so sore.
This messenger gan fast to cry,
“Rise up,” quoth he, “and fast thee hie,
Until thou at my Lady be,
And take thy clarions eke with thee,
And speed thee forth.” And he anon
Took to him one that hight Triton, <70>
His clarions to beare tho,* *then
And let a certain winde go,
That blew so hideously and high,
That it lefte not a sky* *cloud <71>
In all the welkin* long and broad. *sky
This Aeolus nowhere abode* *delayed
Till he was come to Fame’s feet,
And eke the man that Triton hete,* *is called
And there he stood as still as stone.