Boethius de Consolatione Philosophiae
Epilogue (1478).
Thus endeth this book, which is named “The Book of Consolation of Philosophy,” which that Boecius made for his comfort and consolation, he being in exile for the common and public weal, having great heaviness and thoughtes, and in manner of despair, rehearsing in the said book how Philosophy appeared to him shewing the mutability of this transitory life, and also informing how fortune and hap should be understood, with the predestination and prescience of God as much as may and is possible to be known naturally, as afore is said in this said book. Which Boecius was an excellent author of divers books, craftily and curiously made in prose and metre; and also had translated divers books out of Greek into Latin, and had been senator of that noble and famous city Rome; and also his two sons senators for their prudence and wisdom. And forasmuch as he withstood to his power the tyranny of Theodoric, then Emperor, and would have defended the said city and senate from his wicked hands, whereupon he was convicted and put in prison; in which prison he made this foresaid book of consolation for his singular comfort. And forasmuch as the style of it is hard and difficult to be understood of simple persons, therefore the worshipful father and first founder and embellisher of ornate eloquence in our English, I mean Master Geoffrey Chaucer, hath translated this said work out of Latin into our usual and mother tongue, following the Latin as nigh as is possible to be understood; wherein in mine opinion he hath deserved a perpetual laud and thank of all this noble royaume of England, and especially of them that shall read and understand it. For in the said book they may see what this transitory and mutable world is, and whereto every man living in it ought to intend. Then forasmuch as this said book so translated is rare and not spread ne known as it is digne and worthy, for the erudition and learning as such as be ignorant and not knowing of it, at request of a singular friend and gossip of mine, I, William Caxton, have done my devoir and pain to imprint it in form as is here afore made; in hoping that it shall profit much people to the weal and health of their souls, and for to learn to have and keep the better patience in adversities. And furthermore I desire and require you that of your charity ye would pray for the soul of the said worshipful man Geoffrey Chaucer, first translator of this said book into English, and embellisher in making the said language ornate and fair, which shall endure perpetually; and therefore he ought eternally to be remembered, of whom the body and corpse lieth buried in the Abbey of Westminster beside London, to-fore the chapel of Saint Benedict, by whose sepulchre is written on a table hanging on a pillar his Epitaph, made by a Poet Laureate, whereof the copy followeth &c.
Epitaphium Galfridi Chaucer. per
poetam laureatum Stephanum surigonum
Mediolanensem in decretis licenciatum.
Pyerides muse si possunt numina fletus
Fundere, diuinas atque rigare genas,
Galfridi vatis Chaucer crudelia fata
Plangite; sit lacrimis abstinuisse nefas.
Uos coluit viuens: at vos celebrate sepultum;
Reddatur merito gracia digna viro.
Grande decus vobis, en docti musa Maronis
Qua didicit melius lingua latina loqui.
Grande nouumque decus Chaucer famamque parauit;
Heu quantum fuerat prisca britanna rudis.
Reddidit insignem maternis versibus, vt iam
Aurea splendescat, ferrea facta prius.
Hunc latuisse virum nil si tot opuscula vertes
Dixeris, egregiis quae decorata modis.
Socratis ingenium. vel fontes philosophie
Quitquid et arcani dogmata sacra ferunt
Et quascunque velis tenuit dignissimus artes
Hic vates, paruo conditus hoc tumulo.
Ah laudis quantum preclara britannia perdis
Dum rapuit tantum mors odiosa virum.
Crudeles parcae, crudelia fila sorores!
Non tamen extincto corpore fama perit
Uiuet in eternum, viuent dum scripta poetæ,
Uiuant eterno tot monimenta die.
Si qua bonos tangit pietas, si carmine dignus
Carmina qui cecinit tot cumulata modis,
Haec sibi marmoreo scribantur verba sepulchro,
Haec maneat laudis sarcina summa suae:
Galfridus Chaucer vates et fama poesis
Materne, hac sacra sum tumulatus humo.
Post obitum Caxton voluit te viuere cura
Willelmi, Chaucer, clare poeta, tui:
Nam tua non solum compressit opuscula formis,
Has quoque sed laudes iussit his esse tuas.