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840
 Moveth kindely to pace
 Al up into his kindely place.
 And this place of which I telle,
 Ther as Fame list to dwelle,
 Is set amiddes of these three, 845
 Heven, erthe, and eek the see,
 As most conservatif the soun.
 Than is this the conclusioun, (340)
 That every speche of every man,
 As I thee telle first began, 850
 Moveth up on high to pace
 Kindely to Fames place.
 'Telle me this feithfully,
 Have I not preved thus simply,
 Withouten any subtiltee 855
 Of speche, or gret prolixitee
 Of termes of philosophye,
 Of figures of poetrye, (350)
 Or colours of rethoryke?
 Pardee, hit oghte thee to lyke; 860
 For hard langage and hard matere
 Is encombrous for to here
 At ones; wost thou not wel this?'
 And I answerde, and seyde, 'Yis.'
 'A ha!' quod he, 'lo, so I can, 865
 Lewedly to a lewed man
 Speke, and shewe him swiche skiles,
 That he may shake hem by the biles, (360)
 So palpable they shulden be.
 But tel me this, now pray I thee, 870
 How thinkth thee my conclusioun?'
 [Quod he]. 'A good persuasioun,'
 Quod I, 'hit is; and lyk to be
 Right so as thou hast preved me.'
 'By god,' quod he, 'and as I leve, 875
 Thou shall have yit, or hit be eve,
 Of every word of this sentence
 A preve, by experience; (370)
 And with thyn eres heren wel
 Top and tail, and everydel, 880
 That every word that spoken is
 Comth into Fames Hous, y-wis,
 As I have seyd; what wilt thou more?'
 And with this word upper to sore
 He gan, and seyde, 'By Seynt Iame! 885
 Now wil we speken al of game.'--
 'How farest thou?' quod he to me.
 'Wel,' quod I. 'Now see,' quod he, (380)
 'By thy trouthe, yond adoun,
 Wher that thou knowest any toun, 890
 Or hous, or any other thing.
 And whan thou hast of ought knowing,
 Loke that thou warne me,
 And I anoon shal telle thee
 How fer that thou art now therfro.' 895
 And I adoun gan loken tho,
 And beheld feldes and plaines,
 And now hilles, and now mountaines, (390)
 Now valeys, and now forestes,
 And now, unethes, grete bestes; 900
 Now riveres, now citees,
 Now tounes, and now grete trees,
 Now shippes sailinge in the see.
 But thus sone in a whyle he
 Was flowen fro the grounde so hyë, 905
 That al the world, as to myn yë,
 No more semed than a prikke;
 Or elles was the air so thikke (400)
 That I ne mighte not discerne.
 With that he spak to me as yerne, 910
 And seyde: 'Seestow any [toun]
 Or ought thou knowest yonder doun?'
 I seyde, 'Nay.' 'No wonder nis,'
 Quod he, 'for half so high as this
 Nas Alexander Macedo; 915
 Ne the king, dan Scipio,
 That saw in dreme, at point devys,
 Helle and erthe, and paradys; (410)
 Ne eek the wrecche Dedalus,
 Ne his child, nyce Icarus, 920
 That fleigh so highe that the hete
 His winges malt, and he fel wete
 In-mid the see, and ther he dreynte,
 For whom was maked moch compleynte.
 'Now turn upward,' quod he, 'thy face, 925
 And behold this large place,
 This air; but loke thou ne be
 Adrad of hem that thou shalt see; (420)
 For in this regioun, certein,
 Dwelleth many a citezein, 930
 Of which that speketh dan Plato.
 These ben the eyrish bestes, lo!'
 And so saw I al that meynee
 Bothe goon and also flee.
 'Now,' quod he tho, 'cast up thyn yë; 935
 See yonder, lo, the Galaxyë,
 Which men clepeth the Milky Wey,
 For hit is whyt: and somme, parfey, (430)
 Callen hit Watlinge Strete:
 That ones was y-brent with hete, 940
 Whan the sonnes sone, the rede,
 That highte Pheton, wolde lede
 Algate his fader cart, and gye.
 The cart-hors gonne wel espye
 That he ne coude no governaunce 945
 And gonne for to lepe and launce,
 And beren him now up, now doun,
 Til that he saw the Scorpioun, (440)
 Which that in heven a signe is yit.
 And he, for ferde, loste his wit, 950
 Of that, and leet the reynes goon
 Of his hors; and they anoon
 Gonne up to mounte, and doun descende
 Til bothe the eyr and erthe brende;
 Til Iupiter, lo, atte laste, 955
 Him slow, and fro the carte caste.
 Lo, is it not a greet mischaunce,
 To lete a fole han governaunce (450)
 Of thing that he can not demeine?'
 And with this word, soth for to seyne, 960
 He gan alway upper to sore,
 And gladded me ay more and more,
 So feithfully to me spak he.
 Tho gan I loken under me,
 And beheld the eyrish bestes, 965
 Cloudes, mistes, and tempestes,
 Snowes, hailes, reines, windes,
 And thengendring in hir kindes, (460)
 And al the wey through whiche I cam;
 'O god,' quod I, 'that made Adam, 970
 Moche is thy might and thy noblesse!'
 And tho thoughte I upon Boëce,
 That writ, 'a thought may flee so hyë,
 With fetheres of Philosophye,
 To passen everich element; 975
 And whan he hath so fer y-went,
 Than may be seen, behind his bak,
 Cloud, and al that I of spak.' (470)
 Tho gan I wexen in a were,
 And seyde, 'I woot wel I am here; 980
 But wher in body or in gost
 I noot, y-wis; but god, thou wost!'
 For more cleer entendement
 Nadde he me never yit y-sent.
 And than thoughte I on Marcian, 985
 And eek on Anteclaudian,
 That sooth was hir descripcioun
 Of al the hevenes regioun, (480)
 As fer as that I saw the preve;
 Therfor I can hem now beleve. 990
 With that this egle gan to crye:
 'Lat be,' quod he, 'thy fantasye;
 Wilt thou lere of sterres aught?'
 'Nay, certeinly,' quod I, 'right naught;
 And why? for I am now to old.' 995
 'Elles I wolde thee have told,'
 Quod he, 'the sterres names, lo,
 And al the hevenes signes to, (490)
 And which they been.' 'No fors,' quod I.
 'Yis, pardee,' quod he; 'wostow why? 1000
 For whan thou redest poetrye,
 How goddes gonne stellifye
 Brid, fish, beste, or him or here,
 As the Raven, or either Bere,
 Or Ariones harpe fyn, 1005
 Castor, Pollux, or Delphyn,
 Or Atlantes doughtres sevene,
 How alle these arn set in hevene; (500)
 For though thou have hem ofte on honde,
 Yet nostow not wher that they stonde.' 1010
 'No fors,' quod I, 'hit is no nede;
 I leve as wel, so god me spede,
 Hem that wryte of this matere,
 As though I knew hir places here;
 And eek they shynen here so brighte, 1015
 Hit shulde shenden al my sighte,
 To loke on hem.' 'That may wel be,'
 Quod he. And so forth bar he me (510)
 A whyl, and than he gan to crye,
 That never herde I thing so hye, 1020
 'Now up the heed; for al is wel;
 Seynt Iulyan, lo, bon hostel!
 See here the House of Fame, lo!
 Maistow not heren that I do?'
 'What?' quod I. 'The grete soun,' 1025
 Quod he, 'that rumbleth up and doun
 In Fames Hous, ful of tydinges,
 Bothe of fair speche and chydinges, (520)
 And of fals and soth compouned.
 Herkne wel; hit is not rouned. 1030
 Herestow not the grete swogh?'
 'Yis, pardee,' quod I, 'wel y-nogh.'
 'And what soun is it lyk?' quod he.
 'Peter! lyk beting of the see,'
 Quod I, 'again the roches holowe, 1035
 Whan tempest doth the shippes swalowe;
 And lat a man stonde, out of doute,
 A myle thens, and here hit route; (530)
 Or elles lyk the last humblinge
 After the clappe of a thundringe, 1040
 When Ioves hath the air y-bete;
 But hit doth me for fere swete.'
 'Nay, dred thee not therof,' quod he,
 'Hit is nothing wil byten
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