No More Learning

ye wil us shende!
Whan shal your cursed pleding have an ende? 495
How shulde a Iuge eyther party leve,
For yee or nay, with-outen any preve? '

The goos, the cokkow, and the doke also
So cryden 'kek, kek! ' 'kukkow! ' 'quek, quek! ' hye,
That thorgh myn eres the noyse wente tho. 500
The goos seyde, 'al this nis not worth a flye!
But I can shape hereof a remedye,
And I wol sey my verdit faire and swythe
For water-foul, who-so be wrooth or blythe. '

'And I for worm-foul,' seyde the fool cukkow, 505
For I wol, of myn owne auctorite,
For comune spede, take the charge now,
For to delivere us is gret charite. '
Ye may abyde a whyle yet, parde! '
Seide the turtel, 'if hit be your wille 510
A wight may speke, him were as good be stille.

I am a seed-foul, oon the unworthieste,
That wot I wel, and litel of kunninge;
But bet is that a wightes tonge reste
Than entremeten him of such doinge 515
Of which he neyther rede can nor singe.
And who-so doth, ful foule himself acloyeth,
For office uncommitted ofte anoyeth. '

Nature, which that alway had an ere
To murmour of the lewednes behinde, 520
With facound voys seide, 'hold your tonges there!
And I shal sone, I hope, a counseyl finde
You to delivere, and fro this noyse unbinde;
I Iuge, of every folk men shal oon calle
To seyn the verdit for you foules alle. ' 525

Assented were to this conclusioun
The briddes alle; and foules of ravyne
Han chosen first, by pleyn eleccioun,
The tercelet of the faucon, to diffyne
Al hir sentence, and as him list, termyne; 530
And to Nature him gonnen to presente,
And she accepteth him with glad entente.

The tercelet seide than in this manere:
Ful hard were hit to preve hit by resoun
Who loveth best this gentil formel here; 535
For everich hath swich replicacioun,
That noon by skilles may be broght a-doun;
I can not seen that arguments avayle;
Than semeth hit ther moste be batayle. '

'Al redy! ' quod these egles tercels tho. 540
Nay, sirs! ' quod he, 'if that I dorste it seye,
Ye doon me wrong, my tale is not y-do!
For sirs, ne taketh noght a-gref, I preye,
It may noght gon, as ye wolde, in this weye;
Oure is the voys that han the charge in honde, 545
And to the Iuges dome ye moten stonde;

And therfor pees! I seye, as to my wit,
Me wolde thinke how that the worthieste
Of knighthode, and lengest hath used hit,
Moste of estat, of blode the gentileste, 550
Were sittingest for hir, if that hir leste;
And of these three she wot hir-self, I trowe,
Which that he be, for hit is light to knowe. '

The water-foules han her hedes leyd
Togeder, and of short avysement, 555
Whan everich had his large golee seyd,
They seyden sothly, al by oon assent,
How that 'the goos, with hir facounde gent,
That so desyreth to pronounce our nede,
Shal telle our tale,' and preyde 'god hir spede. ' 560

And for these water-foules tho began
The goos to speke, and in hir cakelinge
She seyde, 'pees! now tak kepe every man,
And herkeneth which a reson I shal bringe;
My wit is sharp, I love no taryinge; 565
I seye, I rede him, though he were my brother,
But she wol love him, lat him love another! '

Lo here! a parfit reson of a goos! '
Quod the sperhauk; 'never mot she thee!
Lo, swich hit is to have a tonge loos!