Chapter 23

With timerous hert and trembling hand of drede,Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,Unto the flour of port in womanhedeI write, as he that non intelligence5Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence;Sauf that me list my writing to convey,In that I can to please her hygh nobley.The blosmes fresshe of Tullius garden sootePresent thaim not, my mater for to borne:10Poemes of Virgil taken here no rote,Ne crafte of Galfrid may not here sojorne:Why nam I cunning? O well may I morne,For lak of science that I can-not writeUnto the princes of my life a-right15No termes digne unto her excellence,So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:A world of honour and of reverenceThere is in her, this wil I testifie.Calliope, thou sister wise and sly,20And thou, Minerva, guyde me with thy grace,That langage rude my mater not deface.Thy suger-dropes swete of EliconDistill in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;And thee, Melpomene, I calle anon,25Of ignoraunce the mist to chace away;And give me grace so for to write and sey,That she, my lady, of her worthinesse,Accepte in gree this litel short tretesse,That is entitled thus, 'The Court of Love.'30And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,I you besech, for Venus sake above;For what I mene in this ye need not muse:And if so be my lady it refuseFor lak of ornat speche, I wold be wo,35That I presume to her to writen so.But myn entent and all my besy cureIs for to write this tretesse, as I can,Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,Feithfull and kind, sith first that she began40Me to accept in service as her man:To her be all the plesure of this boke,That, whan her like, she may it rede and loke.When I was yong, at eighteen yere of age,Lusty and light, desirous of pleasaunce,45Approching on full sadde and ripe corage,Love arted me to do myn observaunceTo his astate, and doon him obeysaunce,Commaunding me the Court of Love to see,A lite beside the mount of Citharee,50There Citherea goddesse was and queneHonoured highly for her majestee;And eke her sone, the mighty god, I wene,Cupid the blind, that for his digniteeA thousand lovers worship on their knee;55There was I bid, on pain of death, t'apere,By Mercury, the winged messengere.So than I went by straunge and fer contrees,Enquiring ay what costes †to it drew,The Court of Love: and thiderward, as bees,60At last I sey the peple gan pursue:Anon, me thought, som wight was there that knewWhere that the court was holden, ferre or ny,And after thaim ful fast I gan me hy.Anone as I theim overtook, I said,65'Hail, frendes! whider purpose ye to wend?''Forsooth,' quod oon that answered lich a maid,'To Loves Court now go we, gentill frend.''Where is that place,' quod I, 'my felowe hend?''At Citheron, sir,' seid he, 'without dowte,70The King of Love, and all his noble rowte,Dwelling within a castell ryally.'So than apace I jorned forth among,And as he seid, so fond I there truly.For I beheld the towres high and strong,75And high pinácles, large of hight and long,With plate of gold bespred on every side,And presious stones, the stone-werk for to hide.No saphir ind, no rubè riche of price,There lakked than, nor emeraud so grene,80Baleis Turkeis, ne thing to my devise,That may the castell maken for to shene:All was as bright as sterres in winter been;And Phebus shoon, to make his pees agayn,For trespas doon to high estates tweyn,85Venus and Mars, the god and goddesse clere,Whan he theim found in armes cheined fast:Venus was then full sad of herte and chere.But Phebus bemes, streight as is the mast,Upon the castell ginneth he to cast,90To plese the lady, princesse of that place,In signe he loketh aftir Loves grace.For there nis god in heven or helle, y-wis,But he hath ben right soget unto Love:Jove, Pluto, or what-so-ever he is,95Ne creature in erth, or yet above;Of thise the révers may no wight approve.But furthermore, the castell to descry,Yet saw I never non so large and high.For unto heven it streccheth, I suppose,100Within and out depeynted wonderly,With many a thousand daisy, rede as rose,And white also, this saw I verily:But what tho daises might do signify,Can I not tell, sauf that the quenes flour105Alceste it was that kept there her sojour;Which under Venus lady was and quene,And Admete king and soverain of that place,To whom obeyed the ladies gode ninetene,With many a thowsand other, bright of face.110And yong men fele came forth with lusty pace,And aged eke, their homage to dispose;But what thay were, I coud not well disclose.Yet ner and ner furth in I gan me dresseInto an halle of noble apparaile,115With arras spred and cloth of gold, I gesse,And other silk of esier availe:Under the cloth of their estate, saunz faile,The king and quene ther sat, as I beheld:It passed joye of Helisee the feld.120There saintes have their comming and resort,To seen the king so ryally beseyn,In purple clad, and eke the quene in sort:And on their hedes saw I crownes tweyn,With stones fret, so that it was no payn,125Withouten mete and drink, to stand and seeThe kinges honour and the ryaltee.And for to trete of states with the king,That been of councell chief, and with the quene,The king had Daunger ner to him standing,130The Quene of Love, Disdain, and that was seen:For by the feith I shall to god, I wene,Was never straunger [non] in her degreeThan was the quene in casting of her ee.And as I stood perceiving her apart,135And eke the bemes shyning of her yen,Me thought thay were shapen lich a dart,Sherp and persing, smale, and streight as lyne.And all her here, it shoon as gold so fyne,Dishevel, crisp, down hinging at her bak140A yarde in length: and soothly than I spak:—'O bright Regina, who made thee so fair?Who made thy colour vermelet and white?Where woneth that god? how fer above the eyr?Greet was his craft, and greet was his delyt.145Now marvel I nothing that ye do hightThe Quene of Love, and occupy the placeOf Citharee: now, sweet lady, thy grace.'In mewet spak I, so that nought astert,By no condicion, word that might be herd;150B[ut] in myn inward thought I gan advert,And oft I seid, 'My wit is dulle and hard:'For with her bewtee, thus, god wot, I ferdAs doth the man y-ravisshed with sight,When I beheld her cristall yen so bright,155No respect having what was best to doon;Till right anon, beholding here and there,I spied a frend of myne, and that full soon,A gentilwoman, was the chambererUnto the quene, that hote, as ye shall here,160Philobone, that lovëd all her life:Whan she me sey, she led me furth as blyfe;And me demaunded how and in what wiseI thider com, and what myne erand was?'To seen the court,' quod I, 'and all the guyse;165And eke to sue for pardon and for grace,And mercy ask for all my greet trespace,That I non erst com to the Court of Love:Foryeve me this, ye goddes all above!''That is well seid,' quod Philobone, 'in-dede:170But were ye not assomoned to apereBy Mercury? For that is all my drede.''Yes, gentil fair,' quod I, 'now am I here;Ye, yit what tho, though that be true, my dere?''Of your free will ye shuld have come unsent:175For ye did not, I deme ye will be shent.For ye that reign in youth and lustinesse,Pampired with ese, and †jolif in your age,Your dewtee is, as fer as I can gesse,To Loves Court to dressen your viage,180As sone as Nature maketh you so sage,That ye may know a woman from a swan,Or whan your foot is growen half a span.But sith that ye, by wilful necligence,This eighteen yere have kept yourself at large,185The gretter is your trespace and offence,And in your nek ye moot bere all the charge:For better were ye ben withouten barge,Amiddë see, in tempest and in rain,Than byden here, receiving woo and pain,190That ordeined is for such as thaim absentFro Loves Court by yeres long and fele.I ley my lyf ye shall full soon repent;For Love will reyve your colour, lust, and hele:Eke ye must bait on many an hevy mele:195No force, y-wis, I stired you long agoonTo draw to court,' quod litell Philobon.'Ye shall well see how rough and angry faceThe King of Love will shew, when ye him see;By myn advyse kneel down and ask him grace,200Eschewing perell and adversitee;For well I wot it wol non other be,Comfort is non, ne counsel to your ese;Why will ye than the King of Love displese?''O mercy, god,' quod ich, 'I me repent,205Caitif and wrecche in hert, in wille, and thought!And aftir this shall be myne hole ententTo serve and plese, how dere that love be bought:Yit, sith I have myn own penaunce y-sought,With humble spirit shall I it receive,210Though that the King of Love my life bereyve.And though that fervent loves qualitèIn me did never worch truly, yit IWith all obeisaunce and humilitè,And benign hert, shall serve him til I dye:215And he that Lord of †might is, grete and highe,Right as him list me chastice and correct,And punish me, with trespace thus enfect.'Thise wordes seid, she caught me by the lap,And led me furth intill a temple round,220Large and wyde: and, as my blessed hapAnd good avénture was, right sone I foundA tabernacle reised from the ground,Where Venus sat, and Cupid by her syde;Yet half for drede I gan my visage hyde.225And eft again I loked and beheld,Seeing full sundry peple in the place,And mister folk, and som that might not weldTheir limmes well, me thought a wonder cas;The temple shoon with windows all of glas,230Bright as the day, with many a fair image;And there I sey the fresh quene of Cartage,Dido, that brent her bewtee for the loveOf fals Eneas; and the weymentingOf hir, Anelida, true as turtill-dove,235To Arcite fals: and there was in peintingOf many a prince, and many a doughty king,Whose marterdom was shewed about the walles;And how that fele for love had suffered falles.But sore I was abasshed and astonied240Of all tho folk that there were in that tyde;And than I asked where thay had [y-]woned:'In dyvers courtes,' quod she, 'here besyde.'In sondry clothing, mantil-wyse full wyde,They were arrayed, and did their sacrifice245Unto the god and goddesse in their guyse.'†Lo! yonder folk,' quod she, 'that knele in blew,They were the colour ay, and ever shall,In sign they were, and ever will be trewWithouten chaunge: and sothly, yonder all250That ben in blak, with morning cry and callUnto the goddes, for their loves beenSom fer, som dede, som all to sherpe and kene.''Ye, than,' quod I, 'what doon thise prestes here,Nonnes and hermits, freres, and all thoo255That sit in white, in russet, and in grene?''For-soth,' quod she, 'they wailen of their wo.''O mercy, lord! may thay so come and goFreely to court, and have such libertee?''Ye, men of ech condicion and degree,260And women eke: for truly, there is nonExcepcion mad, ne never was ne may:This court is ope and free for everichon,The King of Love he will nat say thaim nay:He taketh all, in poore or riche array,265That meekly sewe unto his excellenceWith all their herte and all their reverence.'And, walking thus about with Philobone,I sey where cam a messenger in hyStreight from the king, which let commaund anon,270Through-out the court to make an ho and cry:'A! new-come folk, abyde! and wot ye why?The kinges lust is for to seen you soon:Com ner, let see! his will mot need be doon.'Than gan I me present to-fore the king,275Trembling for fere, with visage pale of hew,And many a lover with me was kneling,Abasshed sore, till unto tyme thay knewThe sentence yeve of his entent full trew:And at the last the king hath me behold280With stern visage, and seid, 'What doth this old,Thus fer y-stope in yeres, come so lateUnto the court?' 'For-soth, my liege,' quod I,'An hundred tyme I have ben at the gateAfore this tyme, yit coud I never espy285Of myn acqueyntaunce any with mine y;And shamefastnes away me gan to chace;But now I me submit unto your grace.''Well! all is perdoned, with condicionThat thou be trew from hensforth to thy might,290And serven Love in thyn entencion:Swere this, and than, as fer as it is right,Thou shalt have grace here in my quenes sight.''Yis, by the feith I ow your crown, I swere,Though Deth therfore me thirlith with his spere!'295And whan the king had seen us everichoon,He let commaunde an officer in hyTo take our feith, and shew us, oon by oon,The statuts of the court full besily.Anon the book was leid before their y,300To rede and see what thing we must observeIn Loves Court, till that we dye and sterve.And, for that I was lettred, there I redThe statuts hole of Loves Court and hall:Thefirststatut that on the boke was spred,305Was, To be true in thought and dedes allUnto the King of Love, the Lord ryall;And to the Quene, as feithful and as kind,As I coud think with herte, and will and mind.Thesecundstatut, Secretly to kepe310Councell of love, nat blowing every-whereAll that I know, and let it sink †or flete;It may not sown in every wightes ere:Exyling slaunder ay for dred and fere,And to my lady, which I love and serve,315Be true and kind, her grace for to deserve.Thethridstatut was clerely write also,Withouten chaunge to live and dye the same,Non other love to take, for wele ne wo,For brind delyt, for ernest nor for game:320Without repent, for laughing or for grame,To byden still in full perseveraunce:Al this was hole the kinges ordinaunce.Thefourthstatut, To purchace ever to here,And stiren folk to love, and beten fyr325On Venus awter, here about and there,And preche to thaim of love and hot desyr,And tell how love will quyten well their hire:This must be kept; and loth me to displese:If love be wroth, passe forby is an ese.330Thefifthstatut, Not to be daungerous,If that a thought wold reyve me of my slepe:Nor of a sight to be over squeymous;And so, verily, this statut was to kepe,To turne and walowe in my bed and wepe,335When that my lady, of her crueltè,Wold from her herte exylen all pitè.Thesixtstatut, it was for me to use,Alone to wander, voide of company,And on my ladys bewtee for to muse,340And to think [it] no force to live or dye;And eft again to think the remedy,How to her grace I might anon attain,And tell my wo unto my souverain.Theseventhstatut was, To be pacient,345Whether my lady joyfull were or wroth;For wordes glad or hevy, diligent,Wheder that she me helden lefe or loth:And hereupon I put was to myn oth,Her for to serve, and lowly to obey,350Shewing my chere, ye, twenty sith a-day.Theeighthstatut, to my rememb[e]raunce,Was, To speke, and pray my lady dere,With hourly labour and gret attendaunce,Me for to love with all her herte entere,355And me desyre, and make me joyfull chere,Right as she is, surmounting every faire,Of bewtie well, and gentill debonaire.Theninthstatut, with lettres writ of gold,This was the sentence, How that I and all360Shuld ever dred to be to over-boldHer to displese; and truly, so I shall;But ben content for thing[es] that may falle,And meekly take her chastisement and yerd,And to offende her ever ben aferd.365Thetenthstatut was, Egally discernBy-twene thy lady and thyn abilitee,And think, thy-self art never like to yern,By right, her mercy, nor of equitee,But of her grace and womanly pitee:370For though thy-self be noble in thy strene,A thowsand-fold more nobill is thy quene,Thy lyves lady, and thy souverayn,That hath thyn herte all hole in governaunce.Thou mayst no wyse hit taken to disdayn,375To put thee humbly at her ordinaunce,And give her free the rein of her plesaunce;For libertee is thing that women loke,And truly, els the mater is a-croke.Theeleventhstatut, Thy signes for to †con380With y and finger, and with smyles soft,And low to cough, and alway for to shon,For dred of spyes, for to winken oft:But secretly to bring a sigh a-loft,And eke beware of over-moch resort;385For that, paraventure, spilleth al thy sport.Thetwelfthstatut remember to observe:For al the pain thow hast for love and wo,All is to lite her mercy to deserve,Thow must then think, where-ever thou ryde or go;390And mortall woundes suffer thow also,All for her sake, and thinke it well besetUpon thy love, for it may be no bet.Thethirteenthstatut, Whylom is to thinke,What thing may best thy lady lyke and plese,395And in thyn hertes botom let it sinke:Som thing devise, and take [it] for thyn ese,And send it her, that may her herte †apese:Some hert, or ring, or lettre, or device,Or precious stone; but spare not for no price.400Thefourteenthstatut eke thou shalt assayFermly to kepe the most part of thy lyfe:Wish that thy lady in thyne armes lay,And nightly dreme, thow hast thy hertes wyfeSwetely in armes, straining her as blyfe:405And whan thou seest it is but fantasy,See that thow sing not over merily,For to moche joye hath oft a wofull end.It longith eke, this statut for to hold,To deme thy lady evermore thy frend,410And think thyself in no wyse a cocold.In every thing she doth but as she shold:Construe the best, beleve no tales newe,For many a lie is told, that semeth full trewe.But think that she, so bounteous and fair,415Coud not be fals: imagine this algate;And think that tonges wikke wold her appair,Slaundering her name and worshipfull estat,And lovers true to setten at debat:And though thow seest a faut right at thyne y,420Excuse it blyve, and glose it pretily.Thefifteenthstatut, Use to swere and stare,And counterfet a lesing hardely,To save thy ladys honour every-where,And put thyself to fight [for her] boldly:425Sey she is good, virtuous, and gostly,Clere of entent, and herte, and thought and wille;And argue not, for reson ne for skille,Agayn thy ladys plesir ne entent,For love wil not be countrepleted, indede:430Sey as she seith, than shalt thou not be shent,The crow is whyte; ye, truly, so I rede:And ay what thing that she thee will forbede,Eschew all that, and give her sovereintee,Her appetyt folow in all degree.435Thesixteenthstatut, kepe it if thow may:—Seven sith at night thy lady for to plese,And seven at midnight, seven at morow-day;And drink a cawdell erly for thyn ese.Do this, and kepe thyn hede from all disese,440And win the garland here of lovers all,That ever come in court, or ever shall.Ful few, think I, this statut hold and kepe;But truly, this my reson giveth me fele,That som lovers shuld rather fall aslepe,445Than take on hand to plese so oft and wele.There lay non oth to this statut a-dele,But kepe who might, as gave him his corage:Now get this garland, lusty folk of age.Now win who may, ye lusty folk of youth,450This garland fresh, of floures rede and whyte,Purpill and blewe, and colours †ful uncouth,And I shal croune him king of all delyt!In al the court there was not, to my sight,A lover trew, that he ne was adred,455When he expresse hath herd the statut red.Theseventeenthstatut, Whan age approchith on,And lust is leid, and all the fire is queint,As freshly than thou shalt begin to fon,And dote in love, and all her image paint460In rémembraunce, til thou begin to faint,†As in the first seson thyn hert began:And her desire, though thou ne may ne canPerform thy living actuell, and lust;Regester this in thy rememb[e]raunce:465Eke when thou mayst not kepe thy thing from rust,†Yit speke and talk of plesaunt daliaunce;For that shall make thyn hert rejoise and daunce.And when thou mayst no more the game assay,The statut †bit thee pray for hem that may.470Theeighteenthstatut, hoolly to commend,To plese thy lady, is, That thou escheweWith sluttishness thy-self for to offend;Be jolif, fresh, and fete, with thinges newe,Courtly with maner, this is all thy due,475Gentill of port, and loving clenlinesse;This is the thing that lyketh thy maistresse.And not to wander lich a dulled ass,Ragged and torn, disgysed in array,Ribaud in speche, or out of mesure pass,480Thy bound exceding; think on this alway:For women †been of tender hertes ay,And lightly set their plesire in a place;Whan they misthink, they lightly let it passe.Thenineteenthstatut, Mete and drink forgete:485Ech other day, see that thou fast for love,For in the court they live withouten mete,Sauf such as cometh from Venus all above;They take non heed, in pain of greet reprove,Of mete and drink, for that is all in vain;490Only they live by sight of their soverain.Thetwentiethstatut, last of everichoon,Enroll it in thyn hertes privitee;To wring and wail, to turn, and sigh and grone,When that thy lady absent is from thee;495And eke renew the wordes [all] that sheBitween you twain hath seid, and all the chereThat thee hath mad thy lyves lady dere.And see thyn herte in quiet ne in restSojorn, to tyme thou seen thy lady eft;500But wher she won by south, or est, or west,With all thy force, now see it be not left:Be diligent, till tyme thy lyfe be reft,In that thou mayst, thy lady for to see;This statut was of old antiquitee.505An officer of high auctoritee,Cleped Rigour, made us swere anon:He nas corrupt with parcialitee,Favour, prayer, ne gold that cherely shoon;'Ye shall,' quod he, 'now sweren here echoon,510Yong and old, to kepe, in that †ye may,The statuts truly, all, aftir this day.'O god, thought I, hard is to make this oth!But to my pouer shall I thaim observe;In all this world nas mater half so loth,515To swere for all; for though my body sterve,I have no might the hole for to reserve.But herkin now the cace how it befell:After my oth was mad, the trouth to tell,I turned leves, loking on this boke,520Where other statuts were of women shene;And right furthwith Rigour on me gan lokeFull angrily, and seid unto the queneI traitour was, and charged me let been:'There may no man,' quod he, 'the statut[s] know,525That long to woman, by degree ne low.In secret wyse thay kepten been full close,They sowne echon to libertie, my frend;Plesaunt thay be, and to their own purpose;There wot no wight of thaim, but god and fend,530Ne naught shall wit, unto the worldes end.The quene hath yeve me charge, in pain to dye,Never to rede ne seen thaim with myn ye.For men shall not so nere of councell ben,With womanhode, ne knowen of her gyse,535Ne what they think, ne of their wit th'engyn;I me report to Salamon the wyse,And mighty Sampson, which begyled thryesWith Dalida was: he wot that, in a throw,There may no man statut of women knowe.540For it paravénture may right so befall,That they be bound by nature to disceive,And spinne, and wepe, and sugre strewe on gall,The hert of man to ravissh and to reyve,And whet their tong as sharp as swerd or gleyve:545It may betyde, this is their ordinaunce;So must they lowly doon the observaunce,And kepe the statut yeven thaim of kind,Or such as love hath yeve hem in their lyfe.Men may not wete why turneth every wind,550Nor waxen wyse, nor ben inquisityfTo know secret of maid, widow, or wyfe;For they their statutes have to thaim reserved,And never man to know thaim hath deserved.Now dress you furth, the god of Love you gyde!'555Quod Rigour than, 'and seek the temple brightOf Cither[e]a, goddess here besyde;Beseche her, by [the] influence and mightOf al her vertue, you to teche a-right,How for to serve your ladies, and to plese,560Ye that ben sped, and set your hert in ese.And ye that ben unpurveyed, †pray her ekeComfort you soon with grace and destinee,That ye may set your hert there ye may lyke,In suche a place, that it to love may be565Honour and worship, and feliciteeTo you for ay. Now goth, by one assent.''Graunt mercy, sir!' quod we, and furth we wentDevoutly, soft and esy pace, to seeVenus the goddes image, all of gold:570And there we founde a thousand on their knee,Sum freshe and feire, som dedely to behold,In sondry mantils new, and som were old,Som painted were with flames rede as fire,Outward to shew their inward hoot desire:575With dolefull chere, full fele in their complaintCried 'Lady Venus, rewe upon our sore!Receive our billes, with teres all bedreint;We may not wepe, there is no more in store;But wo and pain us frettith more and more:580Thou †blisful planet, lovers sterre so shene,Have rowth on us, that sigh and carefull been;And ponish, Lady, grevously, we pray,The false untrew with counterfet plesaunce,That made their oth, be trew to live or dey,585With chere assured, and with countenaunce;And falsly now thay foten loves daunce,Barein of rewth, untrue of that they seid,Now that their lust and plesire is alleyd.'Yet eft again, a thousand milion,590Rejoysing, love, leding their life in blis:They seid:—'Venus, redresse of all division,Goddes eterne, thy name †y-heried is!By loves bond is knit all thing, y-wis,Best unto best, the erth to water wan,595Bird unto bird, and woman unto man;This is the lyfe of joye that we ben in,Resembling lyfe of hevenly paradyse;Love is exyler ay of vice and sin;Love maketh hertes lusty to devyse;600Honour and grace have thay, in every wyse,That been to loves law obedient;Love makith folk benigne and diligent;Ay stering theim to drede[n] vice and shame:In their degree it maketh thaim honorable;605And swete it is of love [to] bere the name,So that his love be feithfull, true, and stable:Love prunith him, to semen amiable;Love hath no faut, there it is exercysed,But sole with theim that have all love dispised.610Honour to thee, celestiall and clereGoddes of love, and to thy celsitude,That yevest us light so fer down from thy spere,Persing our hertes with thy pulcritude!Comparison non of similitude615May to thy grace be mad in no degree,That hast us set with love in unitee.Gret cause have we to praise thy name and thee,For [that] through thee we live in joye and blisse.Blessed be thou, most souverain to see!620Thy holy court of gladness may not misse:A thousand sith we may rejoise in this,That we ben thyn with harte and all y-fere,Enflamed with thy grace, and hevinly fere.'Musing of tho that spakin in this wyse,625I me bethought in my rememb[e]raunceMyne orison right goodly to devyse,And plesauntly, with hartes obeisaunce,Beseech the goddes voiden my grevaunce;For I loved eke, sauf that I wist nat where;630Yet down I set, and seid as ye shall here.'Fairest of all that ever were or be!†Lucerne and light to pensif crëature!Myn hole affiaunce, and my lady free,My goddes bright, my fortune and my ure,635I yeve and yeld my hart to thee full sure,Humbly beseching, lady, of thy graceMe to bestowe into som blessed place.And here I vow me feithfull, true, and kind,Without offence of mutabilitee,640Humbly to serve, whyl I have wit and mind,Myn hole affiaunce, and my lady free!In thilkë place, there ye me sign to be:And, sith this thing of newe is yeve me, ayTo love and serve, needly must I obey.645Be merciable with thy fire of grace,And fix myne hert there bewtie is and routh,For hote I love, determine in no place,Sauf only this, by god and by my trouth,Trowbled I was with slomber, slepe, and slouth650This other night, and in a visiounI sey a woman romen up and down,Of mene stature, and seemly to behold,Lusty and fresh, demure of countynaunce,Yong and wel shap, with here [that] shoon as gold,655With yen as cristall, farced with plesaunce;And she gan stir myne harte a lite to daunce;But sodenly she vanissh gan right there:Thus I may sey, I love and wot not where.For what she is, ne her dwelling I not,660And yet I fele that love distraineth me:Might ich her know, that wold I fain, god wot,Serve and obey with all benignitee.And if that other be my destinee,So that no wyse I shall her never see,665Than graunt me her that best may lyken me,With glad rejoyse to live in parfit hele,Devoide of wrath, repent, or variaunce;And able me to do that may be weleUnto my lady, with hertes by plesaunce:670And, mighty goddes! through thy purviaunceMy wit, my thought, my lust and love so gyde,That to thyne honour I may me provydeTo set myne herte in place there I may lyke,And gladly serve with all affeccioun.675Gret is the pain which at myn hert doth stik.Till I be sped by thyn eleccioun:Help, lady goddes! that possessiounI might of her have, that in all my lyfeI clepen shall my quene and hertes wife.680And in the Court of Love to dwell for ayMy wille it is, and don thee sacrifice:Daily with Diane eke to fight and fray,And holden werre, as might well me suffice:That goddes chaste I kepen in no wyse685To serve; a fig for all her chastitee!Her lawe is for religiositee.'And thus gan finish preyer, lawde, and preise,Which that I yove to Venus on my knee,And in myne hert to ponder and to peise,690I gave anon hir image fressh bewtie;'Heil to that figure sweet! and heil to thee,Cupide,' quod I, and rose and yede my way;And in the temple as I yede I seyA shryne sormownting all in stones riche,695Of which the force was plesaunce to myn y,With diamant or saphire; never licheI have non seyn, ne wrought so wonderly.So whan I met with Philobone, in hyI gan demaund, 'Who[s] is this sepulture?'700'Forsoth,' quod she, 'a tender creatureIs shryned there, and Pitè is her name.She saw an egle wreke him on a fly,And pluk his wing, and eke him, in his game,And tender herte of that hath made her dy:705Eke she wold wepe, and morn right pitouslyTo seen a lover suffre gret destresse.In all the court nas non that, as I gesse,That coude a lover †half so well availe,Ne of his wo the torment or the rage710†Aslaken, for he was sure, withouten faile,That of his grief she coud the hete aswage.In sted of Pitè, spedeth hot corageThe maters all of court, now she is dede;I me report in this to womanhede.715For weile and wepe, and crye, and speke, and pray,—Women wold not have pitè on thy plaint;Ne by that mene to ese thyn hart convey,But thee receiven for their own talent:And sey, that Pitè causith thee, in consent720Of rewth, to take thy service and thy painIn that thow mayst, to plese thy souverain.But this is councell, keep it secretly;'Quod she, 'I nold, for all the world abowt,The Quene of Love it wist; and wit ye why?725For if by me this matter springen out,In court no lenger shuld I, owt of dowt,Dwellen, but shame in all my life endry:Now kepe it close,' quod she, 'this hardely.Well, all is well! Now shall ye seen,' she seid,730'The feirest lady under son that is:Come on with me, demene you liche a maid,With shamefast dred, for ye shall spede, y-wis,With her that is the mir[th] and joy and blis:But sumwhat straunge and sad of her demene735She is, be ware your countenaunce be sene,Nor over light, ne recheless, ne to bold,Ne malapert, ne rinning with your tong;For she will you abeisen and behold,And you demaund, why ye were hens so long740Out of this court, without resort among:And Rosiall her name is hote aright,Whose harte †as yet [is] yeven to no wight.And ye also ben, as I understond,With love but light avaunced, by your word;745Might ye, by hap, your fredom maken bond,And fall in grace with her, and wele accord,Well might ye thank the god of Love and lord;For she that ye sawe in your dreme appere,To love suche one, what are †ye than the nere?750Yit wot ye what? as my rememb[e]raunceMe yevith now, ye fayn, where that ye seyThat ye with love had never acqueintaunce,Sauf in your dreme right late this other day:Why, yis, parde! my life, that durst I lay,755That ye were caught upon an heth, when ISaw you complain, and sigh full pitously;Within an erber, and a garden fairWith floures growe, and herbes vertuous,Of which the savour swete was and the eyr,760There were your-self full hoot and amorous:Y-wis, ye ben to nice and daungerous;A! wold ye now repent, and love som new?'—'Nay, by my trouth,' I seid, 'I never knewThe goodly wight, whos I shall be for ay:765Guyde me the lord that love hath made and me.'But furth we went in-till a chambre gay,There was Rosiall, womanly to see,Whose stremes sotell-persing of her eeMyn hart gan thrill for bewtie in the stound:770'Alas,' quod I, 'who hath me yeve this wound?'And than I dred to speke, till at the lastI gret the lady reverently and wele,Whan that my sigh was gon and over-past;And down on knees full humbly gan I knele,775Beseching her my fervent wo to kele,For there I took full purpose in my mind,Unto her grace my painfull hart to bind.For if I shall all fully her discryve,Her hede was round, by compace of nature,780Her here as gold,—she passed all on-lyve,—And lily forhede had this crëature,With lovelich browes, flawe, of colour pure,Bytwene the which was mene disseveraunceFrom every brow, to shewe[n] a distaunce.785Her nose directed streight, and even as lyne,With fourm and shap therto convenient,In which the goddes milk-whyt path doth shine;And eke her yen ben bright and orientAs is the smaragde, unto my juggement,790Or yet thise sterres hevenly, smale and bright;Her visage is of lovely rede and whyte.Her mouth is short, and shit in litell space,Flaming somdele, not over-rede, I mene,With pregnant lippes, and thik to kiss, percas;795(For lippes thin, not fat, but ever lene,They serve of naught, they be not worth a bene;For if the basse ben full, there is delyt,Maximian truly thus doth he wryte.)But to my purpose:—I sey, whyte as snow800Ben all her teeth, and in order thay stondOf oon stature; and eke hir breth, I trow,Surmounteth alle odours that ever I fondIn sweetnes; and her body, face, and hondBen sharply slender, so that from the hede805Unto the fote, all is but womanhede.I hold my pees of other thinges hid:—Here shall my soul, and not my tong, bewray:—But how she was arrayed, if ye me bid,That shall I well discover you and say:810A bend of gold and silk, full fressh and gay;With here in tresse[s], browdered full well,Right smothly kept, and shyning every-del.About her nek a flour of fressh devyseWith rubies set, that lusty were to sene;815And she in gown was, light and somer-wyse,Shapen full wele, the colour was of grene,With aureat seint about her sydes clene,With dyvers stones, precious and riche:—Thus was she rayed, yet saugh I never her liche.820For if that Jove had [but] this lady seyn,Tho Calixto ne [yet] Alcmenia,Thay never hadden in his armes leyn;Ne he had loved the faire Europa;Ye, ne yet Dane ne Antiopa!825For al their bewtie stood in Rosiall;She semed lich a thing celestiallIn bowntè, favor, port, and semliness,Plesaunt of figure, mirrour of delyt,Gracious to sene, and rote of gentilness,830With angel visage, lusty rede and white:There was not lak, sauf daunger had a liteThis goodly fressh in rule and governaunce;And somdel straunge she was, for her plesaunce.And truly sone I took my leve and went,835Whan she had me enquyred what I was;For more and more impressen gan the dentOf Loves dart, whyl I beheld her face;And eft again I com to seken grace,And up I put my bill, with sentence clere840That folwith aftir; rede and ye shall here.'O ye [the] fressh, of [all] bewtie the rote,That nature hath fourmed so wele and madePrincesse and Quene! and ye that may do boteOf all my langour with your wordes glad!845Ye wounded me, ye made me wo-bestad;Of grace redress my mortall †grief, as yeOf all myne †harm the verrey causer be.Now am I caught, and unwar sodenly,With persant stremes of your yën clere,850Subject to ben, and serven you meekly,And all your man, y-wis, my lady dere,Abiding grace, of which I you requere,That merciles ye cause me not to sterve;But guerdon me, liche as I may deserve.855For, by my troth, the dayes of my brethI am and will be youre in wille and hert,Pacient and meek, for you to suffre dethIf it require; now rewe upon my smert;And this I swere, I never shall out-stert860From Loves Court for none adversitee,So ye wold rewe on my distresse and me.My destinee, †my fate, and ure I bliss,That have me set to ben obedientOnly to you, the flour of all, y-wis:865I trust to Venus never to repent;For ever redy, glad, and diligentYe shall me finde in service to your grace,Till deth my lyfe out of my body race.Humble unto your excellence so digne,870Enforcing ay my wittes and delytTo serve and plese with glad herte and benigne,And ben as Troilus, [old] Troyes knight,Or Antony for Cleopatre bright,And never you me thinkes to reney:875This shall I kepe unto myne ending-day.Enprent my speche in your memorialSadly, my princess, salve of all my sore!And think that, for I wold becomen thrall,And ben your own, as I have seyd before,880Ye must of pity cherissh more and moreYour man, and tender aftir his desert,And yive him corage for to ben expert.For where that oon hath set his herte on fire,And findeth nether refut ne plesaunce,885Ne word of comfort, deth will quyte his hire.Allas! that there is none allegeaunceOf all their wo! allas, the gret grevaunceTo love unloved! But ye, my Lady dere,In other wyse may govern this matere.'890'Truly, gramercy, frend, of your good will,And of your profer in your humble wyse!But for your service, take and kepe it still.And where ye say, I ought you well cheryse,And of your gref the remedy devyse,895I know not why: I nam acqueinted wellWith you, ne wot not sothly where ye dwell.''In art of love †I wryte, and songes make,That may be song in honour of the KingAnd Quene of Love; and than I undertake,900He that is sad shall than full mery sing.And daunger[o]us not ben in every thingBeseche I you, but seen my will and rede,And let your aunswer put me out of drede.''What is your name? reherse it here, I pray,905Of whens and where, of what condicionThat ye ben of? Let see, com of and say!Fain wold I know your disposicion:—Ye have put on your old entencion;But what ye mene to servë me I noot,910Sauf that ye say ye love me wonder hoot.''My name? alas, my hert, why [make it straunge?]Philogenet I cald am fer and nere,Of Cambrige clerk, that never think to chaungeFro you that with your hevenly stremes clere915Ravissh myne herte and gost and all in-fere:This is the first, I write my bill for grace,Me think, I see som mercy in your face.And what I mene, by god that al hath wrought,My bill, that maketh finall mencion,920That ye ben, lady, in myne inward thoughtOf all myne hert without offencion,That I best love, and have, sith I begonTo draw to court. Lo, than! what might I say?I yeld me here, [lo!] unto your nobley.925And if that I offend, or wilfullyBy pompe of hart your precept disobey,Or doon again your will unskillfully,Or greven you, for ernest or for play,Correct ye me right sharply than, I pray,930As it is sene unto your womanhede,And rewe on me, or ellis I nam but dede.''Nay, god forbede to feffe you so with grace,And for a worde of sugred eloquence,To have compassion in so litell space!935Than were it tyme that som of us were hens!Ye shall not find in me suche insolence.Ay? what is this? may ye not suffer sight?How may ye loke upon the candill-light,That clere[r] is and hotter than myn y?940And yet ye seid, the bemes perse and frete:—How shall ye than the candel-[l]ight endry?For wel wot ye, that hath the sharper hete.And there ye bid me you correct and bete,If ye offend,—nay, that may not be doon:945There come but few that speden here so soon.Withdraw your y, withdraw from presens eke:Hurt not yourself, through foly, with a loke;I wold be sory so to make you seke:A woman shuld be ware eke whom she toke:950Ye beth a clark:—go serchen [in] my boke,If any women ben so light to win:Nay, byde a whyl, though ye were all my kin.So soon ye may not win myne harte, in trouthThe gyse of court will seen your stedfastness,955And as ye don, to have upon you rewth.Your own desert, and lowly gentilness,That will reward you joy for heviness;And though ye waxen pale, and grene and dede,Ye must it use a while, withouten drede,960And it accept, and grucchen in no wyse;But where as ye me hastily desyreTo been to love, me think, ye be not wyse.Cese of your language! cese, I you requyre!For he that hath this twenty yere ben here965May not obtayn; than marveile I that yeBe now so bold, of love to trete with me.''Ah! mercy, hart, my lady and my love,My rightwyse princesse and my lyves guyde!Now may I playn to Venus all above,970That rewthles ye me †give these woundes wyde!What have I don? why may it not betyde,That for my trouth I may received be?Alas! your daunger and your crueltè!In wofull hour I got was, welaway!975In wofull hour [y-]fostred and y-fed,In wofull hour y-born, that I ne mayMy supplicacion swetely have y-sped!The frosty grave and cold must be my bedde,Without ye list your grace and mercy shewe,980Deth with his axe so faste on me doth hewe.So greet disese and in so litell whyle,So litell joy, that felte I never yet;And at my wo Fortune ginneth to smyle,That never erst I felt so harde a fit:985Confounded ben my spirits and my wit,Till that my lady take me to her cure,Which I love best of erthely crëature.But that I lyke, that may I not com by;Of that I playn, that have I habondaunce;990Sorrow and thought, thay sit me wounder ny;Me is withhold that might be my plesaunce:Yet turne again, my worldly suffisaunce!O lady bright! and save your feithfull true,And, er I die, yet on[e]s upon me rewe.'995With that I fell in sounde, and dede as stone,With colour slain, and wan as assh[es] pale;And by the hand she caught me up anon,'Aryse,' quod she, 'what? have ye dronken dwale?Why slepen ye? it is no nightertale.'1000'Now mercy, swete,' quod I, y-wis affrayed:'What thing,' quod she, 'hath mad you so dismayed?Now wot I well that ye a lover be,Your hewe is witnesse in this thing,' she seid:'If ye were secret, [ye] might know,' quod she,1005'Curteise and kind, all this shuld be allayed:And now, myn herte! all that I have misseid,I shall amend, and set your harte in ese.''That word it is,' quod I, 'that doth me plese.''But this I charge, that ye the statuts kepe,1010And breke thaim not for sloth nor ignoraunce.'With that she gan to smyle and laughen depe.'Y-wis,' quod I, 'I will do your plesaunce;The sixteenth statut doth me grete grevaunce,But ye must that relesse or modifie.'1015'I graunt,' quod she, 'and so I will truly.'And softly than her colour gan appeare,As rose so rede, through-out her visage all,Wherefore me think it is according here,That she of right be cleped Rosiall.1020Thus have I won, with wordes grate and small,Some goodly word of hir that I love best,And trust she shall yit set myne harte in rest.. . . . . .'Goth on,' she seid to Philobone, 'and takeThis man with you, and lede him all abowt1025Within the court, and shew him, for my sake,What lovers dwell withinne, and all the rowteOf officers; for he is, out of dowte,A straunger yit:'—'Come on,' quod Philobone,'Philogenet, with me now must ye gon.'1030And stalking soft with esy pace, I sawAbout the king [ther] stonden environ,Attendaunce, Diligence, and their felawFortherer, Esperaunce, and many oon;Dred-to-offend there stood, and not aloon;1035For there was eke the cruell adversair,The lovers fo, that cleped is Dispair,Which unto me spak angrely and fell,And said, my lady me deceiven shall:'Trowest thow,' quod she, 'that all that she did tell,1040Is true? Nay, nay, but under hony gall!Thy birth and †hers, [they] be nothing egall:Cast of thyn hart, for all her wordes whyte,For in good faith she lovith thee but a lyte.And eek remember, thyn habilite1045May not compare with hir, this well thow wot.'Ye, than cam Hope and said, 'My frend, let be!Beleve him not: Dispair, he ginneth dote.''Alas,' quod I, 'here is both cold and hot:The tone me biddeth love, the toder nay;1050Thus wot I not what me is best to say.But well wot I, my lady graunted me,Truly to be my woundes remedy;Her gentilness may not infected beWith dobleness, thus trust I till I dy.'1055So cast I void Dispaires company,And taken Hope to councell and to frend.'Ye, kepe that wele,' quod Philobone, 'in mind.'And there besyde, within a bay-window,Stood oon in grene, full large of brede and length,1060His berd as blak as fethers of the crow;His name was Lust, of wounder might and strength;And with Delyt to argue there he thenkth,For this was all his [hool] opinion,That love was sin! and so he hath begon1065To reson fast, and legge auctoritè:'Nay,' quod Delyt, 'love is a vertue clere,And from the soule his progress holdeth he:Blind appetyt of lust doth often stere,And that is sin: for reson lakketh there,1070For thow [dost] think thy neighbours wyfe to win:Yit think it well that love may not be sin;For god and seint, they love right verely,Void of all sin and vice: this knowe I wele,Affeccion of flessh is sin, truly;1075But verray love is vertue, as I fele,For love may not thy freil desire akele:For [verray] love is love withouten sin.''Now stint,' quoth Lust, 'thow spekest not worth a pin.'And there I left thaim in their arguing,1080Roming ferther in the castell wyde,And in a corner Lier stood talkingOf lesings fast, with Flatery there besyde;He seid that women were attire of pryde,And men were founde of nature variaunt,1085And coud be false, and shewen beau semblaunt.Than Flatery bespake and seid, y-wis:'See, so she goth on patens faire and fete,Hit doth right wele: what prety man is thisThat rometh here? Now truly, drink ne mete1090Nede I not have; myne hart for joye doth beteHim to behold, so is he goodly fressh:It semeth for love his harte is tender nessh.'This is the court of lusty folk and glad,And wel becometh their habit and array:1095O why be som so sorry and so sad,Complaining thus in blak and whyte and gray?Freres they ben, and monkes, in good fay:Alas, for rewth! greet dole it is to seen,To see thaim thus bewaile and sory been.1100See how they cry and wring their handes whyte,For they so sone went to religion!And eke the nonnes, with vaile and wimple plight,There thought that they ben in confusion:'Alas,' thay sayn, 'we fayn perfeccion,1105In clothes wide, and lak our libertè;But all the sin mote on our frendes be.For, Venus wot, we wold as fayn as ye,That ben attired here and wel besene,Desiren man, and love in our degree,1110Ferme and feithfull, right as wold the quene:Our frendes wikke, in tender youth and grene,Ayenst our will made us religious;That is the cause we morne and wailen thus.'Than seid the monks and freres in the tyde,1115'Wel may we curse our abbeys and our place,Our statuts sharp, to sing in copes wyde,Chastly to kepe us out of loves grace,And never to fele comfort ne solace;Yet suffre we the hete of loves fire,1120And after than other haply we desire.O Fortune cursed, why now and whereforeHast thow,' they seid, 'beraft us libertè,Sith nature yave us instrument in store,And appetyt to love and lovers be?1125Why mot we suffer suche adversitè,Diane to serve, and Venus to refuse?Ful often sith this matier doth us muse.We serve and honour, sore ayenst our will,Of chastitè the goddes and the quene;1130Us leffer were with Venus byden still,And have reward for love, and soget beenUnto thise women courtly, fressh, and shene.Fortune, we curse thy whele of variaunce!There we were wele, thou revest our plesaunce.'1135Thus leve I thaim, with voice of pleint and care,In raging wo crying ful pitously;And as I yede, full naked and full bareSome I behold, looking dispitously,On povertè that dedely cast their y;1140And 'Welaway!' they cried, and were not fain,For they ne might their glad desire attain.For lak of richesse worldely and of †gode,They banne and curse, and wepe, and sein, 'Alas,That poverte hath us hent that whylom stode1145At hartis ese, and free and in good case!But now we dar not shew our-self in place,Ne us embolde to duelle in company,There-as our hart wold love right faithfully.'And yet againward shryked every nonne,1150The prang of love so straineth thaim to cry:'Now wo the tyme,' quod thay, 'that we be boun!This hateful ordre nyse will don us dy!We sigh and sobbe, and bleden inwardly,Freting our-self with thought and hard complaint,1155That ney for love we waxen wode and faint.'And as I stood beholding here and there,I was war of a sort full languisshing,Savage and wild of loking and of chere,Their mantels and their clothës ay tering;1160And oft thay were of nature complaining,For they their members lakked, fote and hand,With visage wry and blind, I understand.They lakked shap, and beautie to preferreTheim-self in love: and seid, that god and kind1165Hath forged thaim to worshippen the sterre,Venus the bright, and leften all behindHis other werkes clene and out of mind:'For other have their full shape and bewtee,And we,' quod they, 'ben in deformitè.'1170And nye to thaim there was a company,That have the susters waried and misseid;I mene, the three of fatall destinè,That be our †werdes; and sone, in a brayd,Out gan they cry as they had been affrayd,1175'We curse,' quod thay, 'that ever hath natureY-formed us, this wofull lyfe t'endure!'And there he was contrite, and gan repent,Confessing hole the wound that CitherèHath with the dart of hot desire him sent,1180And how that he to love must subjet be:Than held he all his skornes vanitè,And seid, that lovers lede a blisful lyfe,Yong men and old, and widow, maid and wyfe.'Bereve †me, goddesse,' quod he, '[of] thy might,1185My skornes all and skoffes, that I haveNo power forth, to mokken any wight,That in thy service dwell: for I did rave:This know I well right now, so god me save,And I shal be the chief post of thy feith,1190And love uphold, the révers who-so seith.'Dissemble stood not fer from him in trouth,With party mantill, party hood and hose;And said, he had upon his lady rowth,And thus he wound him in, and gan to glose1195Of his entent full doble, I suppose:And al the world, he seid, he loved it wele;But ay, me thoughte, he loved her nere a dele.Eek Shamefastness was there, as I took hede,That blusshed rede, and durst nat ben a-knowe1200She lover was, for thereof had she drede;She stood and hing her visage down alowe;But suche a sight it was to sene, I trow,†As of these roses rody on their stalk:There cowd no wight her spy to speke or talk1205In loves art, so gan she to abasshe,Ne durst not utter all her privitè:Many a stripe and many a grevous lassheShe gave to thaim that wolden loveres be,And hindered sore the simpill comonaltè,1210That in no wyse durst grace and mercy crave;For were not she, they need but ask and have;Where if they now approchin for to speke,Than Shamefastness returnith thaim again:Thay think, if †we our secret councell breke,1215Our ladies will have scorn on us, certain,And [per]aventure thinken greet disdain:Thus Shamefastness may bringin in Dispeir,Whan she is dede, the toder will be heir.Com forth, Avaunter! now I ring thy bell!1220I spyed him sone; to god I make a-vowe,He loked blak as fendes doth in hell:—'The first,' quod he, 'that ever [I] did †wowe,Within a word she com, I wot not how,So that in armes was my lady free;1225And so hath ben a thousand mo than she.In Englond, Bretain, Spain, and Pycardie,Arteys, and Fraunce, and up in hy Holand,In Burgoyne, Naples, and [in] Italy,Naverne, and Grece, and up in hethen land,1230Was never woman yit that wold withstandTo ben at myn commaundement, whan I wold:I lakked neither silver, coin, ne gold.And there I met with this estate and that;And here I broched her, and here, I trow:1235Lo! there goth oon of myne; and wot ye what?Yon fressh attired have I leyd full low;And such oon yonder eke right well I know:I kept the statut whan we lay y-fere;And yet yon same hath made me right good chere.'1240Thus hath Avaunter blowen every-whereAl that he knowith, and more, a thousand-fold;His auncetrye of kin was to Lière,For firste he makith promise for to holdHis ladies councell, and it not unfold;1245Wherfore, the secret when he doth unshit,Than lyeth he, that all the world may wit.For falsing so his promise and behest,I wounder sore he hath such fantasie;He lakketh wit, I trowe, or is a best,1250That can no bet him-self with reson gy.By myn advice, Love shal be contrarieTo his availe, and him eke dishonoure,So that in court he shall no more sojoure.'Take hede,' quod she, this litell Philobone,1255'Where Envy rokketh in the corner yond,And sitteth dirk; and ye shall see anoneHis lenë bodie, fading face and hond;Him-self he fretteth, as I understond;Witnesse of Ovid Methamorphosose;1260The lovers fo he is, I wil not glose.For where a lover thinketh him promote,Envy will grucch, repyning at his wele;Hit swelleth sore about his hartes rote,That in no wyse he can not live in hele;1265And if the feithfull to his lady stele,Envy will noise and ring it round aboute,And sey moche worse than don is, out of dowte.'And Prevy Thought, rejoysing of him-self,Stood not fer thens in habit mervelous;1270'Yon is,' thought [I], 'som spirit or some elf,His sotill image is so curious:How is,' quod I, 'that he is shaded thusWith yonder cloth, I not of what colour?'And nere I went, and gan to lere and pore,1275And frayned him [a] question full hard.'What is,' quod I, 'the thing thou lovest best?Or what is boot unto thy paines hard?Me think, thow livest here in grete unrest;Thow wandrest ay from south to est and west,1280And est to north; as fer as I can see,There is no place in court may holden thee.Whom folowest thow? where is thy harte y-set?But my demaunde asoile, I thee require.''Me thought,' quod he, 'no crëature may let1285†Me to ben here, and where-as I desire:For where-as absence hath don out the fire,My mery thought it kindleth yet again,That bodily, me think, with my souverainI stand and speke, and laugh, and kisse, and halse,1290So that my thought comforteth me full oft:I think, god wot, though all the world be false,I will be trewe; I think also how softMy lady is in speche, and this on-loftBringeth myn hart †to joye and [greet] gladnesse;1295This prevey thought alayeth myne hevinesse.And what I thinke, or where to be, no manIn all this erth can tell, y-wis, but I:And eke there nis no swallow swift, ne swanSo wight of wing, ne half [so] yern can fly;1300For I can been, and that right sodenly,In heven, in helle, in paradise, and here,And with my lady, whan I will desire.I am of councell ferre and wyde, I wot,With lord and lady, and their previtè1305I wot it all; but be it cold or hot,They shall not speke without licence of me,I mene, in suche as sesonable be;For first the thing is thought within the hert,Ere any word out from the mouth astert.'1310And with that word Thought bad farewell and yede:Eke furth went I to seen the courtes gyse:And at the dore cam in, so god me spede,†Twey courteours of age and of assyseLiche high, and brode, and, as I me advyse,1315The Golden Love, and Leden Love thay hight:The ton was sad, the toder glad and light.[Some stanzas lost.]'Yis! draw your hart, with all your force and might,To lustiness, and been as ye have seid;And think that I no drop of favour hight,1320Ne never had to your desire obeyd,Till sodenly, me thought, me was affrayed,To seen you wax so dede of countenaunce;And Pitè bad me don you some plasaunce.Out of her shryne she roos from deth to lyve,1325And in myne ere full prevely she spak,"Doth not your servaunt hens away to dryve,Rosiall," quod she; and than myn harte [it] brak,For tender †reuth: and where I found moch lakIn your persoune, †than I my-self bethought,1330And seid, "This is the man myne harte hath sought."''Gramercy, Pitè! might I †but sufficeTo yeve the lawde unto thy shryne of gold,God wot, I wold; for sith that †thou did riseFrom deth to lyve for me, I am behold1335To †thanken you a thousand tymes told,And eke my lady Rosiall the shene,Which hath in comfort set myn harte, I wene.And here I make myn protestacion,And depely swere, as [to] myn power, to been1340Feithfull, devoid of variacion,And her forbere in anger or in tene,And serviceable to my worldes quene,With al my reson and intelligence,To don her honour high and reverence.'1345I had not spoke so sone the word, but she,My souverain, did thank me hartily,And seid, 'Abyde, ye shall dwell still with meTill seson come of May; for than, truly,The King of Love and all his company1350Shall hold his fest full ryally and well:'And there I bode till that the seson fell.. . . . . .On May-day, whan the lark began to ryse,To matens went the lusty nightingaleWithin a temple shapen hawthorn-wise;1355He might not slepe in all the nightertale,But 'Domine labia,' gan he crye and gale,'My lippes open, Lord of Love, I crye,And let my mouth thy preising now bewrye.'The eagle sang 'Venite, bodies all,1360And let us joye to love that is our helth.'And to the deske anon they gan to fall,And who come late, he pressed in by stelth:Than seid the fawcon, our own hartis welth,'Domine, Dominus noster, I wot,1365Ye be the god that don us bren thus hot.''Celi enarrant,' said the popingay,'Your might is told in heven and firmament.'And than came in the goldfinch fresh and gay,And said this psalm with hertly glad intent,1370'Domini est terra; this Laten intent,The god of Love hath erth in governaunce:'And than the wren gan skippen and to daunce.'Jube, Domine, Lord of Love, I prayCommaund me well this lesson for to rede;1375This legend is of all that wolden deyMarters for love; god yive the sowles spede!And to thee, Venus, †sing we, out of drede,By influence of all thy vertue grete,Beseching thee to kepe us in our hete.'1380The second lesson robin redebrest sang,'Hail to the god and goddess of our lay!'And to the lectorn †amorously he sprang:—'Hail,' quod [he] eke, 'O fresh seson of May,Our moneth glad that singen on the spray!1385Hail to the floures, rede, and whyte, and blewe,Which by their vertue make our lustes newe!'The thrid lesson the turtill-dove took up,And therat lough the mavis [as] in scorn:He said, 'O god, as mot I dyne or sup,1390This folissh dove will give us all an horn!There been right here a thousand better born,To rede this lesson, which, as well as he,And eke as hot, can love in all degree.'The turtill-dove said, 'Welcom, welcom, May,1395Gladsom and light to loveres that ben trewe!I thank thee, Lord of Love, that doth purveyFor me to rede this lesson all of dewe;For, in gode sooth, of corage I †pursueTo serve my make till deth us must depart:'1400And than 'Tu autem' sang he all apart.'Te deum amoris' sang the thrustell-cok:Tuball him-self, the first musician,With key of armony coude not unlokSo swete [a] tewne as that the thrustill can:1405'The Lord of Love we praisen,' quod he than,'And so don all the fowles, grete and lyte;Honour we May, in fals lovers dispyte.''Dominus regnavit,' seid the pecok there,'The Lord of Love, that mighty prince, y-wis,1410He hath received her[e] and every-where:NowJubilate†sing:'—'What meneth this?'Seid than the linet; 'welcom, Lord of blisse!'Out-stert the owl with 'Benedicite,What meneth al this mery fare?' quod he.1415'Laudate,' sang the lark with voice full shrill;And eke the kite, 'O admirabile;This quere will throgh myne eris pers and thrill;But what? welcom this May seson,' quod he;'And honour to the Lord of Love mot be,1420That hath this feest so solemn and so high:''Amen,' seid all; and so seid eke the pye.And furth the cokkow gan procede anon,With 'Benedictus' thanking god in hast,That in this May wold visite thaim echon,1425And gladden thaim all whyl the fest shall last:And therewithall a-loughter out he brast,'I thank it god that I shuld end the song,And all the service which hath been so long.'Thus sang thay all the service of the fest,1430And that was don right erly, to my dome;And furth goth all the Court, both most and lest,To feche the floures fressh, and braunche and blome;And namly, hawthorn brought both page and grome.With fressh garlandës, partie blewe and whyte,1435And thaim rejoysen in their greet delyt.Eke eche at other threw the floures bright,The prymerose, the violet, the gold;So than, as I beheld the ryall sight,My lady gan me sodenly behold,1440And with a trew-love, plited many-fold,She smoot me through the [very] hert as blyve;And Venus yet I thanke I am alyve.

With timerous hert and trembling hand of drede,

Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,

Unto the flour of port in womanhede

I write, as he that non intelligence

Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence;

Sauf that me list my writing to convey,

In that I can to please her hygh nobley.

The blosmes fresshe of Tullius garden sootePresent thaim not, my mater for to borne:10Poemes of Virgil taken here no rote,Ne crafte of Galfrid may not here sojorne:Why nam I cunning? O well may I morne,For lak of science that I can-not writeUnto the princes of my life a-right

The blosmes fresshe of Tullius garden soote

Present thaim not, my mater for to borne:

Poemes of Virgil taken here no rote,

Ne crafte of Galfrid may not here sojorne:

Why nam I cunning? O well may I morne,

For lak of science that I can-not write

Unto the princes of my life a-right

15No termes digne unto her excellence,So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:A world of honour and of reverenceThere is in her, this wil I testifie.Calliope, thou sister wise and sly,20And thou, Minerva, guyde me with thy grace,That langage rude my mater not deface.

No termes digne unto her excellence,

So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:

A world of honour and of reverence

There is in her, this wil I testifie.

Calliope, thou sister wise and sly,

And thou, Minerva, guyde me with thy grace,

That langage rude my mater not deface.

Thy suger-dropes swete of EliconDistill in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;And thee, Melpomene, I calle anon,25Of ignoraunce the mist to chace away;And give me grace so for to write and sey,That she, my lady, of her worthinesse,Accepte in gree this litel short tretesse,

Thy suger-dropes swete of Elicon

Distill in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;

And thee, Melpomene, I calle anon,

Of ignoraunce the mist to chace away;

And give me grace so for to write and sey,

That she, my lady, of her worthinesse,

Accepte in gree this litel short tretesse,

That is entitled thus, 'The Court of Love.'30And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,I you besech, for Venus sake above;For what I mene in this ye need not muse:And if so be my lady it refuseFor lak of ornat speche, I wold be wo,35That I presume to her to writen so.

That is entitled thus, 'The Court of Love.'

And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,

I you besech, for Venus sake above;

For what I mene in this ye need not muse:

And if so be my lady it refuse

For lak of ornat speche, I wold be wo,

That I presume to her to writen so.

But myn entent and all my besy cureIs for to write this tretesse, as I can,Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,Feithfull and kind, sith first that she began40Me to accept in service as her man:To her be all the plesure of this boke,That, whan her like, she may it rede and loke.

But myn entent and all my besy cure

Is for to write this tretesse, as I can,

Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,

Feithfull and kind, sith first that she began

Me to accept in service as her man:

To her be all the plesure of this boke,

That, whan her like, she may it rede and loke.

When I was yong, at eighteen yere of age,Lusty and light, desirous of pleasaunce,45Approching on full sadde and ripe corage,Love arted me to do myn observaunceTo his astate, and doon him obeysaunce,Commaunding me the Court of Love to see,A lite beside the mount of Citharee,

When I was yong, at eighteen yere of age,

Lusty and light, desirous of pleasaunce,

Approching on full sadde and ripe corage,

Love arted me to do myn observaunce

To his astate, and doon him obeysaunce,

Commaunding me the Court of Love to see,

A lite beside the mount of Citharee,

50There Citherea goddesse was and queneHonoured highly for her majestee;And eke her sone, the mighty god, I wene,Cupid the blind, that for his digniteeA thousand lovers worship on their knee;55There was I bid, on pain of death, t'apere,By Mercury, the winged messengere.

There Citherea goddesse was and quene

Honoured highly for her majestee;

And eke her sone, the mighty god, I wene,

Cupid the blind, that for his dignitee

A thousand lovers worship on their knee;

There was I bid, on pain of death, t'apere,

By Mercury, the winged messengere.

So than I went by straunge and fer contrees,Enquiring ay what costes †to it drew,The Court of Love: and thiderward, as bees,60At last I sey the peple gan pursue:Anon, me thought, som wight was there that knewWhere that the court was holden, ferre or ny,And after thaim ful fast I gan me hy.

So than I went by straunge and fer contrees,

Enquiring ay what costes †to it drew,

The Court of Love: and thiderward, as bees,

At last I sey the peple gan pursue:

Anon, me thought, som wight was there that knew

Where that the court was holden, ferre or ny,

And after thaim ful fast I gan me hy.

Anone as I theim overtook, I said,65'Hail, frendes! whider purpose ye to wend?''Forsooth,' quod oon that answered lich a maid,'To Loves Court now go we, gentill frend.''Where is that place,' quod I, 'my felowe hend?''At Citheron, sir,' seid he, 'without dowte,70The King of Love, and all his noble rowte,

Anone as I theim overtook, I said,

'Hail, frendes! whider purpose ye to wend?'

'Forsooth,' quod oon that answered lich a maid,

'To Loves Court now go we, gentill frend.'

'Where is that place,' quod I, 'my felowe hend?'

'At Citheron, sir,' seid he, 'without dowte,

The King of Love, and all his noble rowte,

Dwelling within a castell ryally.'So than apace I jorned forth among,And as he seid, so fond I there truly.For I beheld the towres high and strong,75And high pinácles, large of hight and long,With plate of gold bespred on every side,And presious stones, the stone-werk for to hide.

Dwelling within a castell ryally.'

So than apace I jorned forth among,

And as he seid, so fond I there truly.

For I beheld the towres high and strong,

And high pinácles, large of hight and long,

With plate of gold bespred on every side,

And presious stones, the stone-werk for to hide.

No saphir ind, no rubè riche of price,There lakked than, nor emeraud so grene,80Baleis Turkeis, ne thing to my devise,That may the castell maken for to shene:All was as bright as sterres in winter been;And Phebus shoon, to make his pees agayn,For trespas doon to high estates tweyn,

No saphir ind, no rubè riche of price,

There lakked than, nor emeraud so grene,

Baleis Turkeis, ne thing to my devise,

That may the castell maken for to shene:

All was as bright as sterres in winter been;

And Phebus shoon, to make his pees agayn,

For trespas doon to high estates tweyn,

85Venus and Mars, the god and goddesse clere,Whan he theim found in armes cheined fast:Venus was then full sad of herte and chere.But Phebus bemes, streight as is the mast,Upon the castell ginneth he to cast,90To plese the lady, princesse of that place,In signe he loketh aftir Loves grace.

Venus and Mars, the god and goddesse clere,

Whan he theim found in armes cheined fast:

Venus was then full sad of herte and chere.

But Phebus bemes, streight as is the mast,

Upon the castell ginneth he to cast,

To plese the lady, princesse of that place,

In signe he loketh aftir Loves grace.

For there nis god in heven or helle, y-wis,But he hath ben right soget unto Love:Jove, Pluto, or what-so-ever he is,95Ne creature in erth, or yet above;Of thise the révers may no wight approve.But furthermore, the castell to descry,Yet saw I never non so large and high.

For there nis god in heven or helle, y-wis,

But he hath ben right soget unto Love:

Jove, Pluto, or what-so-ever he is,

Ne creature in erth, or yet above;

Of thise the révers may no wight approve.

But furthermore, the castell to descry,

Yet saw I never non so large and high.

For unto heven it streccheth, I suppose,100Within and out depeynted wonderly,With many a thousand daisy, rede as rose,And white also, this saw I verily:But what tho daises might do signify,Can I not tell, sauf that the quenes flour105Alceste it was that kept there her sojour;

For unto heven it streccheth, I suppose,

100

Within and out depeynted wonderly,

With many a thousand daisy, rede as rose,

And white also, this saw I verily:

But what tho daises might do signify,

Can I not tell, sauf that the quenes flour

105

Alceste it was that kept there her sojour;

Which under Venus lady was and quene,And Admete king and soverain of that place,To whom obeyed the ladies gode ninetene,With many a thowsand other, bright of face.110And yong men fele came forth with lusty pace,And aged eke, their homage to dispose;But what thay were, I coud not well disclose.

Which under Venus lady was and quene,

And Admete king and soverain of that place,

To whom obeyed the ladies gode ninetene,

With many a thowsand other, bright of face.

110

And yong men fele came forth with lusty pace,

And aged eke, their homage to dispose;

But what thay were, I coud not well disclose.

Yet ner and ner furth in I gan me dresseInto an halle of noble apparaile,115With arras spred and cloth of gold, I gesse,And other silk of esier availe:Under the cloth of their estate, saunz faile,The king and quene ther sat, as I beheld:It passed joye of Helisee the feld.

Yet ner and ner furth in I gan me dresse

Into an halle of noble apparaile,

115

With arras spred and cloth of gold, I gesse,

And other silk of esier availe:

Under the cloth of their estate, saunz faile,

The king and quene ther sat, as I beheld:

It passed joye of Helisee the feld.

120There saintes have their comming and resort,To seen the king so ryally beseyn,In purple clad, and eke the quene in sort:And on their hedes saw I crownes tweyn,With stones fret, so that it was no payn,125Withouten mete and drink, to stand and seeThe kinges honour and the ryaltee.

120

There saintes have their comming and resort,

To seen the king so ryally beseyn,

In purple clad, and eke the quene in sort:

And on their hedes saw I crownes tweyn,

With stones fret, so that it was no payn,

125

Withouten mete and drink, to stand and see

The kinges honour and the ryaltee.

And for to trete of states with the king,That been of councell chief, and with the quene,The king had Daunger ner to him standing,130The Quene of Love, Disdain, and that was seen:For by the feith I shall to god, I wene,Was never straunger [non] in her degreeThan was the quene in casting of her ee.

And for to trete of states with the king,

That been of councell chief, and with the quene,

The king had Daunger ner to him standing,

130

The Quene of Love, Disdain, and that was seen:

For by the feith I shall to god, I wene,

Was never straunger [non] in her degree

Than was the quene in casting of her ee.

And as I stood perceiving her apart,135And eke the bemes shyning of her yen,Me thought thay were shapen lich a dart,Sherp and persing, smale, and streight as lyne.And all her here, it shoon as gold so fyne,Dishevel, crisp, down hinging at her bak140A yarde in length: and soothly than I spak:—

And as I stood perceiving her apart,

135

And eke the bemes shyning of her yen,

Me thought thay were shapen lich a dart,

Sherp and persing, smale, and streight as lyne.

And all her here, it shoon as gold so fyne,

Dishevel, crisp, down hinging at her bak

140

A yarde in length: and soothly than I spak:—

'O bright Regina, who made thee so fair?Who made thy colour vermelet and white?Where woneth that god? how fer above the eyr?Greet was his craft, and greet was his delyt.145Now marvel I nothing that ye do hightThe Quene of Love, and occupy the placeOf Citharee: now, sweet lady, thy grace.'

'O bright Regina, who made thee so fair?

Who made thy colour vermelet and white?

Where woneth that god? how fer above the eyr?

Greet was his craft, and greet was his delyt.

145

Now marvel I nothing that ye do hight

The Quene of Love, and occupy the place

Of Citharee: now, sweet lady, thy grace.'

In mewet spak I, so that nought astert,By no condicion, word that might be herd;150B[ut] in myn inward thought I gan advert,And oft I seid, 'My wit is dulle and hard:'For with her bewtee, thus, god wot, I ferdAs doth the man y-ravisshed with sight,When I beheld her cristall yen so bright,

In mewet spak I, so that nought astert,

By no condicion, word that might be herd;

150

B[ut] in myn inward thought I gan advert,

And oft I seid, 'My wit is dulle and hard:'

For with her bewtee, thus, god wot, I ferd

As doth the man y-ravisshed with sight,

When I beheld her cristall yen so bright,

155No respect having what was best to doon;Till right anon, beholding here and there,I spied a frend of myne, and that full soon,A gentilwoman, was the chambererUnto the quene, that hote, as ye shall here,160Philobone, that lovëd all her life:Whan she me sey, she led me furth as blyfe;

155

No respect having what was best to doon;

Till right anon, beholding here and there,

I spied a frend of myne, and that full soon,

A gentilwoman, was the chamberer

Unto the quene, that hote, as ye shall here,

160

Philobone, that lovëd all her life:

Whan she me sey, she led me furth as blyfe;

And me demaunded how and in what wiseI thider com, and what myne erand was?'To seen the court,' quod I, 'and all the guyse;165And eke to sue for pardon and for grace,And mercy ask for all my greet trespace,That I non erst com to the Court of Love:Foryeve me this, ye goddes all above!'

And me demaunded how and in what wise

I thider com, and what myne erand was?

'To seen the court,' quod I, 'and all the guyse;

165

And eke to sue for pardon and for grace,

And mercy ask for all my greet trespace,

That I non erst com to the Court of Love:

Foryeve me this, ye goddes all above!'

'That is well seid,' quod Philobone, 'in-dede:170But were ye not assomoned to apereBy Mercury? For that is all my drede.''Yes, gentil fair,' quod I, 'now am I here;Ye, yit what tho, though that be true, my dere?''Of your free will ye shuld have come unsent:175For ye did not, I deme ye will be shent.

'That is well seid,' quod Philobone, 'in-dede:

170

But were ye not assomoned to apere

By Mercury? For that is all my drede.'

'Yes, gentil fair,' quod I, 'now am I here;

Ye, yit what tho, though that be true, my dere?'

'Of your free will ye shuld have come unsent:

175

For ye did not, I deme ye will be shent.

For ye that reign in youth and lustinesse,Pampired with ese, and †jolif in your age,Your dewtee is, as fer as I can gesse,To Loves Court to dressen your viage,180As sone as Nature maketh you so sage,That ye may know a woman from a swan,Or whan your foot is growen half a span.

For ye that reign in youth and lustinesse,

Pampired with ese, and †jolif in your age,

Your dewtee is, as fer as I can gesse,

To Loves Court to dressen your viage,

180

As sone as Nature maketh you so sage,

That ye may know a woman from a swan,

Or whan your foot is growen half a span.

But sith that ye, by wilful necligence,This eighteen yere have kept yourself at large,185The gretter is your trespace and offence,And in your nek ye moot bere all the charge:For better were ye ben withouten barge,Amiddë see, in tempest and in rain,Than byden here, receiving woo and pain,

But sith that ye, by wilful necligence,

This eighteen yere have kept yourself at large,

185

The gretter is your trespace and offence,

And in your nek ye moot bere all the charge:

For better were ye ben withouten barge,

Amiddë see, in tempest and in rain,

Than byden here, receiving woo and pain,

190That ordeined is for such as thaim absentFro Loves Court by yeres long and fele.I ley my lyf ye shall full soon repent;For Love will reyve your colour, lust, and hele:Eke ye must bait on many an hevy mele:195No force, y-wis, I stired you long agoonTo draw to court,' quod litell Philobon.

190

That ordeined is for such as thaim absent

Fro Loves Court by yeres long and fele.

I ley my lyf ye shall full soon repent;

For Love will reyve your colour, lust, and hele:

Eke ye must bait on many an hevy mele:

195

No force, y-wis, I stired you long agoon

To draw to court,' quod litell Philobon.

'Ye shall well see how rough and angry faceThe King of Love will shew, when ye him see;By myn advyse kneel down and ask him grace,200Eschewing perell and adversitee;For well I wot it wol non other be,Comfort is non, ne counsel to your ese;Why will ye than the King of Love displese?'

'Ye shall well see how rough and angry face

The King of Love will shew, when ye him see;

By myn advyse kneel down and ask him grace,

200

Eschewing perell and adversitee;

For well I wot it wol non other be,

Comfort is non, ne counsel to your ese;

Why will ye than the King of Love displese?'

'O mercy, god,' quod ich, 'I me repent,205Caitif and wrecche in hert, in wille, and thought!And aftir this shall be myne hole ententTo serve and plese, how dere that love be bought:Yit, sith I have myn own penaunce y-sought,With humble spirit shall I it receive,210Though that the King of Love my life bereyve.

'O mercy, god,' quod ich, 'I me repent,

205

Caitif and wrecche in hert, in wille, and thought!

And aftir this shall be myne hole entent

To serve and plese, how dere that love be bought:

Yit, sith I have myn own penaunce y-sought,

With humble spirit shall I it receive,

210

Though that the King of Love my life bereyve.

And though that fervent loves qualitèIn me did never worch truly, yit IWith all obeisaunce and humilitè,And benign hert, shall serve him til I dye:215And he that Lord of †might is, grete and highe,Right as him list me chastice and correct,And punish me, with trespace thus enfect.'

And though that fervent loves qualitè

In me did never worch truly, yit I

With all obeisaunce and humilitè,

And benign hert, shall serve him til I dye:

215

And he that Lord of †might is, grete and highe,

Right as him list me chastice and correct,

And punish me, with trespace thus enfect.'

Thise wordes seid, she caught me by the lap,And led me furth intill a temple round,220Large and wyde: and, as my blessed hapAnd good avénture was, right sone I foundA tabernacle reised from the ground,Where Venus sat, and Cupid by her syde;Yet half for drede I gan my visage hyde.

Thise wordes seid, she caught me by the lap,

And led me furth intill a temple round,

220

Large and wyde: and, as my blessed hap

And good avénture was, right sone I found

A tabernacle reised from the ground,

Where Venus sat, and Cupid by her syde;

Yet half for drede I gan my visage hyde.

225And eft again I loked and beheld,Seeing full sundry peple in the place,And mister folk, and som that might not weldTheir limmes well, me thought a wonder cas;The temple shoon with windows all of glas,230Bright as the day, with many a fair image;And there I sey the fresh quene of Cartage,

225

And eft again I loked and beheld,

Seeing full sundry peple in the place,

And mister folk, and som that might not weld

Their limmes well, me thought a wonder cas;

The temple shoon with windows all of glas,

230

Bright as the day, with many a fair image;

And there I sey the fresh quene of Cartage,

Dido, that brent her bewtee for the loveOf fals Eneas; and the weymentingOf hir, Anelida, true as turtill-dove,235To Arcite fals: and there was in peintingOf many a prince, and many a doughty king,Whose marterdom was shewed about the walles;And how that fele for love had suffered falles.

Dido, that brent her bewtee for the love

Of fals Eneas; and the weymenting

Of hir, Anelida, true as turtill-dove,

235

To Arcite fals: and there was in peinting

Of many a prince, and many a doughty king,

Whose marterdom was shewed about the walles;

And how that fele for love had suffered falles.

But sore I was abasshed and astonied240Of all tho folk that there were in that tyde;And than I asked where thay had [y-]woned:'In dyvers courtes,' quod she, 'here besyde.'In sondry clothing, mantil-wyse full wyde,They were arrayed, and did their sacrifice245Unto the god and goddesse in their guyse.

But sore I was abasshed and astonied

240

Of all tho folk that there were in that tyde;

And than I asked where thay had [y-]woned:

'In dyvers courtes,' quod she, 'here besyde.'

In sondry clothing, mantil-wyse full wyde,

They were arrayed, and did their sacrifice

245

Unto the god and goddesse in their guyse.

'†Lo! yonder folk,' quod she, 'that knele in blew,They were the colour ay, and ever shall,In sign they were, and ever will be trewWithouten chaunge: and sothly, yonder all250That ben in blak, with morning cry and callUnto the goddes, for their loves beenSom fer, som dede, som all to sherpe and kene.'

'†Lo! yonder folk,' quod she, 'that knele in blew,

They were the colour ay, and ever shall,

In sign they were, and ever will be trew

Withouten chaunge: and sothly, yonder all

250

That ben in blak, with morning cry and call

Unto the goddes, for their loves been

Som fer, som dede, som all to sherpe and kene.'

'Ye, than,' quod I, 'what doon thise prestes here,Nonnes and hermits, freres, and all thoo255That sit in white, in russet, and in grene?''For-soth,' quod she, 'they wailen of their wo.''O mercy, lord! may thay so come and goFreely to court, and have such libertee?''Ye, men of ech condicion and degree,

'Ye, than,' quod I, 'what doon thise prestes here,

Nonnes and hermits, freres, and all thoo

255

That sit in white, in russet, and in grene?'

'For-soth,' quod she, 'they wailen of their wo.'

'O mercy, lord! may thay so come and go

Freely to court, and have such libertee?'

'Ye, men of ech condicion and degree,

260And women eke: for truly, there is nonExcepcion mad, ne never was ne may:This court is ope and free for everichon,The King of Love he will nat say thaim nay:He taketh all, in poore or riche array,265That meekly sewe unto his excellenceWith all their herte and all their reverence.'

260

And women eke: for truly, there is non

Excepcion mad, ne never was ne may:

This court is ope and free for everichon,

The King of Love he will nat say thaim nay:

He taketh all, in poore or riche array,

265

That meekly sewe unto his excellence

With all their herte and all their reverence.'

And, walking thus about with Philobone,I sey where cam a messenger in hyStreight from the king, which let commaund anon,270Through-out the court to make an ho and cry:'A! new-come folk, abyde! and wot ye why?The kinges lust is for to seen you soon:Com ner, let see! his will mot need be doon.'

And, walking thus about with Philobone,

I sey where cam a messenger in hy

Streight from the king, which let commaund anon,

270

Through-out the court to make an ho and cry:

'A! new-come folk, abyde! and wot ye why?

The kinges lust is for to seen you soon:

Com ner, let see! his will mot need be doon.'

Than gan I me present to-fore the king,275Trembling for fere, with visage pale of hew,And many a lover with me was kneling,Abasshed sore, till unto tyme thay knewThe sentence yeve of his entent full trew:And at the last the king hath me behold280With stern visage, and seid, 'What doth this old,

Than gan I me present to-fore the king,

275

Trembling for fere, with visage pale of hew,

And many a lover with me was kneling,

Abasshed sore, till unto tyme thay knew

The sentence yeve of his entent full trew:

And at the last the king hath me behold

280

With stern visage, and seid, 'What doth this old,

Thus fer y-stope in yeres, come so lateUnto the court?' 'For-soth, my liege,' quod I,'An hundred tyme I have ben at the gateAfore this tyme, yit coud I never espy285Of myn acqueyntaunce any with mine y;And shamefastnes away me gan to chace;But now I me submit unto your grace.'

Thus fer y-stope in yeres, come so late

Unto the court?' 'For-soth, my liege,' quod I,

'An hundred tyme I have ben at the gate

Afore this tyme, yit coud I never espy

285

Of myn acqueyntaunce any with mine y;

And shamefastnes away me gan to chace;

But now I me submit unto your grace.'

'Well! all is perdoned, with condicionThat thou be trew from hensforth to thy might,290And serven Love in thyn entencion:Swere this, and than, as fer as it is right,Thou shalt have grace here in my quenes sight.''Yis, by the feith I ow your crown, I swere,Though Deth therfore me thirlith with his spere!'

'Well! all is perdoned, with condicion

That thou be trew from hensforth to thy might,

290

And serven Love in thyn entencion:

Swere this, and than, as fer as it is right,

Thou shalt have grace here in my quenes sight.'

'Yis, by the feith I ow your crown, I swere,

Though Deth therfore me thirlith with his spere!'

295And whan the king had seen us everichoon,He let commaunde an officer in hyTo take our feith, and shew us, oon by oon,The statuts of the court full besily.Anon the book was leid before their y,300To rede and see what thing we must observeIn Loves Court, till that we dye and sterve.

295

And whan the king had seen us everichoon,

He let commaunde an officer in hy

To take our feith, and shew us, oon by oon,

The statuts of the court full besily.

Anon the book was leid before their y,

300

To rede and see what thing we must observe

In Loves Court, till that we dye and sterve.

And, for that I was lettred, there I redThe statuts hole of Loves Court and hall:Thefirststatut that on the boke was spred,305Was, To be true in thought and dedes allUnto the King of Love, the Lord ryall;And to the Quene, as feithful and as kind,As I coud think with herte, and will and mind.

And, for that I was lettred, there I red

The statuts hole of Loves Court and hall:

Thefirststatut that on the boke was spred,

305

Was, To be true in thought and dedes all

Unto the King of Love, the Lord ryall;

And to the Quene, as feithful and as kind,

As I coud think with herte, and will and mind.

Thesecundstatut, Secretly to kepe310Councell of love, nat blowing every-whereAll that I know, and let it sink †or flete;It may not sown in every wightes ere:Exyling slaunder ay for dred and fere,And to my lady, which I love and serve,315Be true and kind, her grace for to deserve.

Thesecundstatut, Secretly to kepe

310

Councell of love, nat blowing every-where

All that I know, and let it sink †or flete;

It may not sown in every wightes ere:

Exyling slaunder ay for dred and fere,

And to my lady, which I love and serve,

315

Be true and kind, her grace for to deserve.

Thethridstatut was clerely write also,Withouten chaunge to live and dye the same,Non other love to take, for wele ne wo,For brind delyt, for ernest nor for game:320Without repent, for laughing or for grame,To byden still in full perseveraunce:Al this was hole the kinges ordinaunce.

Thethridstatut was clerely write also,

Withouten chaunge to live and dye the same,

Non other love to take, for wele ne wo,

For brind delyt, for ernest nor for game:

320

Without repent, for laughing or for grame,

To byden still in full perseveraunce:

Al this was hole the kinges ordinaunce.

Thefourthstatut, To purchace ever to here,And stiren folk to love, and beten fyr325On Venus awter, here about and there,And preche to thaim of love and hot desyr,And tell how love will quyten well their hire:This must be kept; and loth me to displese:If love be wroth, passe forby is an ese.

Thefourthstatut, To purchace ever to here,

And stiren folk to love, and beten fyr

325

On Venus awter, here about and there,

And preche to thaim of love and hot desyr,

And tell how love will quyten well their hire:

This must be kept; and loth me to displese:

If love be wroth, passe forby is an ese.

330Thefifthstatut, Not to be daungerous,If that a thought wold reyve me of my slepe:Nor of a sight to be over squeymous;And so, verily, this statut was to kepe,To turne and walowe in my bed and wepe,335When that my lady, of her crueltè,Wold from her herte exylen all pitè.

330

Thefifthstatut, Not to be daungerous,

If that a thought wold reyve me of my slepe:

Nor of a sight to be over squeymous;

And so, verily, this statut was to kepe,

To turne and walowe in my bed and wepe,

335

When that my lady, of her crueltè,

Wold from her herte exylen all pitè.

Thesixtstatut, it was for me to use,Alone to wander, voide of company,And on my ladys bewtee for to muse,340And to think [it] no force to live or dye;And eft again to think the remedy,How to her grace I might anon attain,And tell my wo unto my souverain.

Thesixtstatut, it was for me to use,

Alone to wander, voide of company,

And on my ladys bewtee for to muse,

340

And to think [it] no force to live or dye;

And eft again to think the remedy,

How to her grace I might anon attain,

And tell my wo unto my souverain.

Theseventhstatut was, To be pacient,345Whether my lady joyfull were or wroth;For wordes glad or hevy, diligent,Wheder that she me helden lefe or loth:And hereupon I put was to myn oth,Her for to serve, and lowly to obey,350Shewing my chere, ye, twenty sith a-day.

Theseventhstatut was, To be pacient,

345

Whether my lady joyfull were or wroth;

For wordes glad or hevy, diligent,

Wheder that she me helden lefe or loth:

And hereupon I put was to myn oth,

Her for to serve, and lowly to obey,

350

Shewing my chere, ye, twenty sith a-day.

Theeighthstatut, to my rememb[e]raunce,Was, To speke, and pray my lady dere,With hourly labour and gret attendaunce,Me for to love with all her herte entere,355And me desyre, and make me joyfull chere,Right as she is, surmounting every faire,Of bewtie well, and gentill debonaire.

Theeighthstatut, to my rememb[e]raunce,

Was, To speke, and pray my lady dere,

With hourly labour and gret attendaunce,

Me for to love with all her herte entere,

355

And me desyre, and make me joyfull chere,

Right as she is, surmounting every faire,

Of bewtie well, and gentill debonaire.

Theninthstatut, with lettres writ of gold,This was the sentence, How that I and all360Shuld ever dred to be to over-boldHer to displese; and truly, so I shall;But ben content for thing[es] that may falle,And meekly take her chastisement and yerd,And to offende her ever ben aferd.

Theninthstatut, with lettres writ of gold,

This was the sentence, How that I and all

360

Shuld ever dred to be to over-bold

Her to displese; and truly, so I shall;

But ben content for thing[es] that may falle,

And meekly take her chastisement and yerd,

And to offende her ever ben aferd.

365Thetenthstatut was, Egally discernBy-twene thy lady and thyn abilitee,And think, thy-self art never like to yern,By right, her mercy, nor of equitee,But of her grace and womanly pitee:370For though thy-self be noble in thy strene,A thowsand-fold more nobill is thy quene,

365

Thetenthstatut was, Egally discern

By-twene thy lady and thyn abilitee,

And think, thy-self art never like to yern,

By right, her mercy, nor of equitee,

But of her grace and womanly pitee:

370

For though thy-self be noble in thy strene,

A thowsand-fold more nobill is thy quene,

Thy lyves lady, and thy souverayn,That hath thyn herte all hole in governaunce.Thou mayst no wyse hit taken to disdayn,375To put thee humbly at her ordinaunce,And give her free the rein of her plesaunce;For libertee is thing that women loke,And truly, els the mater is a-croke.

Thy lyves lady, and thy souverayn,

That hath thyn herte all hole in governaunce.

Thou mayst no wyse hit taken to disdayn,

375

To put thee humbly at her ordinaunce,

And give her free the rein of her plesaunce;

For libertee is thing that women loke,

And truly, els the mater is a-croke.

Theeleventhstatut, Thy signes for to †con380With y and finger, and with smyles soft,And low to cough, and alway for to shon,For dred of spyes, for to winken oft:But secretly to bring a sigh a-loft,And eke beware of over-moch resort;385For that, paraventure, spilleth al thy sport.

Theeleventhstatut, Thy signes for to †con

380

With y and finger, and with smyles soft,

And low to cough, and alway for to shon,

For dred of spyes, for to winken oft:

But secretly to bring a sigh a-loft,

And eke beware of over-moch resort;

385

For that, paraventure, spilleth al thy sport.

Thetwelfthstatut remember to observe:For al the pain thow hast for love and wo,All is to lite her mercy to deserve,Thow must then think, where-ever thou ryde or go;390And mortall woundes suffer thow also,All for her sake, and thinke it well besetUpon thy love, for it may be no bet.

Thetwelfthstatut remember to observe:

For al the pain thow hast for love and wo,

All is to lite her mercy to deserve,

Thow must then think, where-ever thou ryde or go;

390

And mortall woundes suffer thow also,

All for her sake, and thinke it well beset

Upon thy love, for it may be no bet.

Thethirteenthstatut, Whylom is to thinke,What thing may best thy lady lyke and plese,395And in thyn hertes botom let it sinke:Som thing devise, and take [it] for thyn ese,And send it her, that may her herte †apese:Some hert, or ring, or lettre, or device,Or precious stone; but spare not for no price.

Thethirteenthstatut, Whylom is to thinke,

What thing may best thy lady lyke and plese,

395

And in thyn hertes botom let it sinke:

Som thing devise, and take [it] for thyn ese,

And send it her, that may her herte †apese:

Some hert, or ring, or lettre, or device,

Or precious stone; but spare not for no price.

400Thefourteenthstatut eke thou shalt assayFermly to kepe the most part of thy lyfe:Wish that thy lady in thyne armes lay,And nightly dreme, thow hast thy hertes wyfeSwetely in armes, straining her as blyfe:405And whan thou seest it is but fantasy,See that thow sing not over merily,

400

Thefourteenthstatut eke thou shalt assay

Fermly to kepe the most part of thy lyfe:

Wish that thy lady in thyne armes lay,

And nightly dreme, thow hast thy hertes wyfe

Swetely in armes, straining her as blyfe:

405

And whan thou seest it is but fantasy,

See that thow sing not over merily,

For to moche joye hath oft a wofull end.It longith eke, this statut for to hold,To deme thy lady evermore thy frend,410And think thyself in no wyse a cocold.In every thing she doth but as she shold:Construe the best, beleve no tales newe,For many a lie is told, that semeth full trewe.

For to moche joye hath oft a wofull end.

It longith eke, this statut for to hold,

To deme thy lady evermore thy frend,

410

And think thyself in no wyse a cocold.

In every thing she doth but as she shold:

Construe the best, beleve no tales newe,

For many a lie is told, that semeth full trewe.

But think that she, so bounteous and fair,415Coud not be fals: imagine this algate;And think that tonges wikke wold her appair,Slaundering her name and worshipfull estat,And lovers true to setten at debat:And though thow seest a faut right at thyne y,420Excuse it blyve, and glose it pretily.

But think that she, so bounteous and fair,

415

Coud not be fals: imagine this algate;

And think that tonges wikke wold her appair,

Slaundering her name and worshipfull estat,

And lovers true to setten at debat:

And though thow seest a faut right at thyne y,

420

Excuse it blyve, and glose it pretily.

Thefifteenthstatut, Use to swere and stare,And counterfet a lesing hardely,To save thy ladys honour every-where,And put thyself to fight [for her] boldly:425Sey she is good, virtuous, and gostly,Clere of entent, and herte, and thought and wille;And argue not, for reson ne for skille,

Thefifteenthstatut, Use to swere and stare,

And counterfet a lesing hardely,

To save thy ladys honour every-where,

And put thyself to fight [for her] boldly:

425

Sey she is good, virtuous, and gostly,

Clere of entent, and herte, and thought and wille;

And argue not, for reson ne for skille,

Agayn thy ladys plesir ne entent,For love wil not be countrepleted, indede:430Sey as she seith, than shalt thou not be shent,The crow is whyte; ye, truly, so I rede:And ay what thing that she thee will forbede,Eschew all that, and give her sovereintee,Her appetyt folow in all degree.

Agayn thy ladys plesir ne entent,

For love wil not be countrepleted, indede:

430

Sey as she seith, than shalt thou not be shent,

The crow is whyte; ye, truly, so I rede:

And ay what thing that she thee will forbede,

Eschew all that, and give her sovereintee,

Her appetyt folow in all degree.

435Thesixteenthstatut, kepe it if thow may:—Seven sith at night thy lady for to plese,And seven at midnight, seven at morow-day;And drink a cawdell erly for thyn ese.Do this, and kepe thyn hede from all disese,440And win the garland here of lovers all,That ever come in court, or ever shall.

435

Thesixteenthstatut, kepe it if thow may:—

Seven sith at night thy lady for to plese,

And seven at midnight, seven at morow-day;

And drink a cawdell erly for thyn ese.

Do this, and kepe thyn hede from all disese,

440

And win the garland here of lovers all,

That ever come in court, or ever shall.

Ful few, think I, this statut hold and kepe;But truly, this my reson giveth me fele,That som lovers shuld rather fall aslepe,445Than take on hand to plese so oft and wele.There lay non oth to this statut a-dele,But kepe who might, as gave him his corage:Now get this garland, lusty folk of age.

Ful few, think I, this statut hold and kepe;

But truly, this my reson giveth me fele,

That som lovers shuld rather fall aslepe,

445

Than take on hand to plese so oft and wele.

There lay non oth to this statut a-dele,

But kepe who might, as gave him his corage:

Now get this garland, lusty folk of age.

Now win who may, ye lusty folk of youth,450This garland fresh, of floures rede and whyte,Purpill and blewe, and colours †ful uncouth,And I shal croune him king of all delyt!In al the court there was not, to my sight,A lover trew, that he ne was adred,455When he expresse hath herd the statut red.

Now win who may, ye lusty folk of youth,

450

This garland fresh, of floures rede and whyte,

Purpill and blewe, and colours †ful uncouth,

And I shal croune him king of all delyt!

In al the court there was not, to my sight,

A lover trew, that he ne was adred,

455

When he expresse hath herd the statut red.

Theseventeenthstatut, Whan age approchith on,And lust is leid, and all the fire is queint,As freshly than thou shalt begin to fon,And dote in love, and all her image paint460In rémembraunce, til thou begin to faint,†As in the first seson thyn hert began:And her desire, though thou ne may ne can

Theseventeenthstatut, Whan age approchith on,

And lust is leid, and all the fire is queint,

As freshly than thou shalt begin to fon,

And dote in love, and all her image paint

460

In rémembraunce, til thou begin to faint,

†As in the first seson thyn hert began:

And her desire, though thou ne may ne can

Perform thy living actuell, and lust;Regester this in thy rememb[e]raunce:465Eke when thou mayst not kepe thy thing from rust,†Yit speke and talk of plesaunt daliaunce;For that shall make thyn hert rejoise and daunce.And when thou mayst no more the game assay,The statut †bit thee pray for hem that may.

Perform thy living actuell, and lust;

Regester this in thy rememb[e]raunce:

465

Eke when thou mayst not kepe thy thing from rust,

†Yit speke and talk of plesaunt daliaunce;

For that shall make thyn hert rejoise and daunce.

And when thou mayst no more the game assay,

The statut †bit thee pray for hem that may.

470Theeighteenthstatut, hoolly to commend,To plese thy lady, is, That thou escheweWith sluttishness thy-self for to offend;Be jolif, fresh, and fete, with thinges newe,Courtly with maner, this is all thy due,475Gentill of port, and loving clenlinesse;This is the thing that lyketh thy maistresse.

470

Theeighteenthstatut, hoolly to commend,

To plese thy lady, is, That thou eschewe

With sluttishness thy-self for to offend;

Be jolif, fresh, and fete, with thinges newe,

Courtly with maner, this is all thy due,

475

Gentill of port, and loving clenlinesse;

This is the thing that lyketh thy maistresse.

And not to wander lich a dulled ass,Ragged and torn, disgysed in array,Ribaud in speche, or out of mesure pass,480Thy bound exceding; think on this alway:For women †been of tender hertes ay,And lightly set their plesire in a place;Whan they misthink, they lightly let it passe.

And not to wander lich a dulled ass,

Ragged and torn, disgysed in array,

Ribaud in speche, or out of mesure pass,

480

Thy bound exceding; think on this alway:

For women †been of tender hertes ay,

And lightly set their plesire in a place;

Whan they misthink, they lightly let it passe.

Thenineteenthstatut, Mete and drink forgete:485Ech other day, see that thou fast for love,For in the court they live withouten mete,Sauf such as cometh from Venus all above;They take non heed, in pain of greet reprove,Of mete and drink, for that is all in vain;490Only they live by sight of their soverain.

Thenineteenthstatut, Mete and drink forgete:

485

Ech other day, see that thou fast for love,

For in the court they live withouten mete,

Sauf such as cometh from Venus all above;

They take non heed, in pain of greet reprove,

Of mete and drink, for that is all in vain;

490

Only they live by sight of their soverain.

Thetwentiethstatut, last of everichoon,Enroll it in thyn hertes privitee;To wring and wail, to turn, and sigh and grone,When that thy lady absent is from thee;495And eke renew the wordes [all] that sheBitween you twain hath seid, and all the chereThat thee hath mad thy lyves lady dere.

Thetwentiethstatut, last of everichoon,

Enroll it in thyn hertes privitee;

To wring and wail, to turn, and sigh and grone,

When that thy lady absent is from thee;

495

And eke renew the wordes [all] that she

Bitween you twain hath seid, and all the chere

That thee hath mad thy lyves lady dere.

And see thyn herte in quiet ne in restSojorn, to tyme thou seen thy lady eft;500But wher she won by south, or est, or west,With all thy force, now see it be not left:Be diligent, till tyme thy lyfe be reft,In that thou mayst, thy lady for to see;This statut was of old antiquitee.

And see thyn herte in quiet ne in rest

Sojorn, to tyme thou seen thy lady eft;

500

But wher she won by south, or est, or west,

With all thy force, now see it be not left:

Be diligent, till tyme thy lyfe be reft,

In that thou mayst, thy lady for to see;

This statut was of old antiquitee.

505An officer of high auctoritee,Cleped Rigour, made us swere anon:He nas corrupt with parcialitee,Favour, prayer, ne gold that cherely shoon;'Ye shall,' quod he, 'now sweren here echoon,510Yong and old, to kepe, in that †ye may,The statuts truly, all, aftir this day.'

505

An officer of high auctoritee,

Cleped Rigour, made us swere anon:

He nas corrupt with parcialitee,

Favour, prayer, ne gold that cherely shoon;

'Ye shall,' quod he, 'now sweren here echoon,

510

Yong and old, to kepe, in that †ye may,

The statuts truly, all, aftir this day.'

O god, thought I, hard is to make this oth!But to my pouer shall I thaim observe;In all this world nas mater half so loth,515To swere for all; for though my body sterve,I have no might the hole for to reserve.But herkin now the cace how it befell:After my oth was mad, the trouth to tell,

O god, thought I, hard is to make this oth!

But to my pouer shall I thaim observe;

In all this world nas mater half so loth,

515

To swere for all; for though my body sterve,

I have no might the hole for to reserve.

But herkin now the cace how it befell:

After my oth was mad, the trouth to tell,

I turned leves, loking on this boke,520Where other statuts were of women shene;And right furthwith Rigour on me gan lokeFull angrily, and seid unto the queneI traitour was, and charged me let been:'There may no man,' quod he, 'the statut[s] know,525That long to woman, by degree ne low.

I turned leves, loking on this boke,

520

Where other statuts were of women shene;

And right furthwith Rigour on me gan loke

Full angrily, and seid unto the quene

I traitour was, and charged me let been:

'There may no man,' quod he, 'the statut[s] know,

525

That long to woman, by degree ne low.

In secret wyse thay kepten been full close,They sowne echon to libertie, my frend;Plesaunt thay be, and to their own purpose;There wot no wight of thaim, but god and fend,530Ne naught shall wit, unto the worldes end.The quene hath yeve me charge, in pain to dye,Never to rede ne seen thaim with myn ye.

In secret wyse thay kepten been full close,

They sowne echon to libertie, my frend;

Plesaunt thay be, and to their own purpose;

There wot no wight of thaim, but god and fend,

530

Ne naught shall wit, unto the worldes end.

The quene hath yeve me charge, in pain to dye,

Never to rede ne seen thaim with myn ye.

For men shall not so nere of councell ben,With womanhode, ne knowen of her gyse,535Ne what they think, ne of their wit th'engyn;I me report to Salamon the wyse,And mighty Sampson, which begyled thryesWith Dalida was: he wot that, in a throw,There may no man statut of women knowe.

For men shall not so nere of councell ben,

With womanhode, ne knowen of her gyse,

535

Ne what they think, ne of their wit th'engyn;

I me report to Salamon the wyse,

And mighty Sampson, which begyled thryes

With Dalida was: he wot that, in a throw,

There may no man statut of women knowe.

540For it paravénture may right so befall,That they be bound by nature to disceive,And spinne, and wepe, and sugre strewe on gall,The hert of man to ravissh and to reyve,And whet their tong as sharp as swerd or gleyve:545It may betyde, this is their ordinaunce;So must they lowly doon the observaunce,

540

For it paravénture may right so befall,

That they be bound by nature to disceive,

And spinne, and wepe, and sugre strewe on gall,

The hert of man to ravissh and to reyve,

And whet their tong as sharp as swerd or gleyve:

545

It may betyde, this is their ordinaunce;

So must they lowly doon the observaunce,

And kepe the statut yeven thaim of kind,Or such as love hath yeve hem in their lyfe.Men may not wete why turneth every wind,550Nor waxen wyse, nor ben inquisityfTo know secret of maid, widow, or wyfe;For they their statutes have to thaim reserved,And never man to know thaim hath deserved.

And kepe the statut yeven thaim of kind,

Or such as love hath yeve hem in their lyfe.

Men may not wete why turneth every wind,

550

Nor waxen wyse, nor ben inquisityf

To know secret of maid, widow, or wyfe;

For they their statutes have to thaim reserved,

And never man to know thaim hath deserved.

Now dress you furth, the god of Love you gyde!'555Quod Rigour than, 'and seek the temple brightOf Cither[e]a, goddess here besyde;Beseche her, by [the] influence and mightOf al her vertue, you to teche a-right,How for to serve your ladies, and to plese,560Ye that ben sped, and set your hert in ese.

Now dress you furth, the god of Love you gyde!'

555

Quod Rigour than, 'and seek the temple bright

Of Cither[e]a, goddess here besyde;

Beseche her, by [the] influence and might

Of al her vertue, you to teche a-right,

How for to serve your ladies, and to plese,

560

Ye that ben sped, and set your hert in ese.

And ye that ben unpurveyed, †pray her ekeComfort you soon with grace and destinee,That ye may set your hert there ye may lyke,In suche a place, that it to love may be565Honour and worship, and feliciteeTo you for ay. Now goth, by one assent.''Graunt mercy, sir!' quod we, and furth we went

And ye that ben unpurveyed, †pray her eke

Comfort you soon with grace and destinee,

That ye may set your hert there ye may lyke,

In suche a place, that it to love may be

565

Honour and worship, and felicitee

To you for ay. Now goth, by one assent.'

'Graunt mercy, sir!' quod we, and furth we went

Devoutly, soft and esy pace, to seeVenus the goddes image, all of gold:570And there we founde a thousand on their knee,Sum freshe and feire, som dedely to behold,In sondry mantils new, and som were old,Som painted were with flames rede as fire,Outward to shew their inward hoot desire:

Devoutly, soft and esy pace, to see

Venus the goddes image, all of gold:

570

And there we founde a thousand on their knee,

Sum freshe and feire, som dedely to behold,

In sondry mantils new, and som were old,

Som painted were with flames rede as fire,

Outward to shew their inward hoot desire:

575With dolefull chere, full fele in their complaintCried 'Lady Venus, rewe upon our sore!Receive our billes, with teres all bedreint;We may not wepe, there is no more in store;But wo and pain us frettith more and more:580Thou †blisful planet, lovers sterre so shene,Have rowth on us, that sigh and carefull been;

575

With dolefull chere, full fele in their complaint

Cried 'Lady Venus, rewe upon our sore!

Receive our billes, with teres all bedreint;

We may not wepe, there is no more in store;

But wo and pain us frettith more and more:

580

Thou †blisful planet, lovers sterre so shene,

Have rowth on us, that sigh and carefull been;

And ponish, Lady, grevously, we pray,The false untrew with counterfet plesaunce,That made their oth, be trew to live or dey,585With chere assured, and with countenaunce;And falsly now thay foten loves daunce,Barein of rewth, untrue of that they seid,Now that their lust and plesire is alleyd.'

And ponish, Lady, grevously, we pray,

The false untrew with counterfet plesaunce,

That made their oth, be trew to live or dey,

585

With chere assured, and with countenaunce;

And falsly now thay foten loves daunce,

Barein of rewth, untrue of that they seid,

Now that their lust and plesire is alleyd.'

Yet eft again, a thousand milion,590Rejoysing, love, leding their life in blis:They seid:—'Venus, redresse of all division,Goddes eterne, thy name †y-heried is!By loves bond is knit all thing, y-wis,Best unto best, the erth to water wan,595Bird unto bird, and woman unto man;

Yet eft again, a thousand milion,

590

Rejoysing, love, leding their life in blis:

They seid:—'Venus, redresse of all division,

Goddes eterne, thy name †y-heried is!

By loves bond is knit all thing, y-wis,

Best unto best, the erth to water wan,

595

Bird unto bird, and woman unto man;

This is the lyfe of joye that we ben in,Resembling lyfe of hevenly paradyse;Love is exyler ay of vice and sin;Love maketh hertes lusty to devyse;600Honour and grace have thay, in every wyse,That been to loves law obedient;Love makith folk benigne and diligent;

This is the lyfe of joye that we ben in,

Resembling lyfe of hevenly paradyse;

Love is exyler ay of vice and sin;

Love maketh hertes lusty to devyse;

600

Honour and grace have thay, in every wyse,

That been to loves law obedient;

Love makith folk benigne and diligent;

Ay stering theim to drede[n] vice and shame:In their degree it maketh thaim honorable;605And swete it is of love [to] bere the name,So that his love be feithfull, true, and stable:Love prunith him, to semen amiable;Love hath no faut, there it is exercysed,But sole with theim that have all love dispised.

Ay stering theim to drede[n] vice and shame:

In their degree it maketh thaim honorable;

605

And swete it is of love [to] bere the name,

So that his love be feithfull, true, and stable:

Love prunith him, to semen amiable;

Love hath no faut, there it is exercysed,

But sole with theim that have all love dispised.

610Honour to thee, celestiall and clereGoddes of love, and to thy celsitude,That yevest us light so fer down from thy spere,Persing our hertes with thy pulcritude!Comparison non of similitude615May to thy grace be mad in no degree,That hast us set with love in unitee.

610

Honour to thee, celestiall and clere

Goddes of love, and to thy celsitude,

That yevest us light so fer down from thy spere,

Persing our hertes with thy pulcritude!

Comparison non of similitude

615

May to thy grace be mad in no degree,

That hast us set with love in unitee.

Gret cause have we to praise thy name and thee,For [that] through thee we live in joye and blisse.Blessed be thou, most souverain to see!620Thy holy court of gladness may not misse:A thousand sith we may rejoise in this,That we ben thyn with harte and all y-fere,Enflamed with thy grace, and hevinly fere.'

Gret cause have we to praise thy name and thee,

For [that] through thee we live in joye and blisse.

Blessed be thou, most souverain to see!

620

Thy holy court of gladness may not misse:

A thousand sith we may rejoise in this,

That we ben thyn with harte and all y-fere,

Enflamed with thy grace, and hevinly fere.'

Musing of tho that spakin in this wyse,625I me bethought in my rememb[e]raunceMyne orison right goodly to devyse,And plesauntly, with hartes obeisaunce,Beseech the goddes voiden my grevaunce;For I loved eke, sauf that I wist nat where;630Yet down I set, and seid as ye shall here.

Musing of tho that spakin in this wyse,

625

I me bethought in my rememb[e]raunce

Myne orison right goodly to devyse,

And plesauntly, with hartes obeisaunce,

Beseech the goddes voiden my grevaunce;

For I loved eke, sauf that I wist nat where;

630

Yet down I set, and seid as ye shall here.

'Fairest of all that ever were or be!†Lucerne and light to pensif crëature!Myn hole affiaunce, and my lady free,My goddes bright, my fortune and my ure,635I yeve and yeld my hart to thee full sure,Humbly beseching, lady, of thy graceMe to bestowe into som blessed place.

'Fairest of all that ever were or be!

†Lucerne and light to pensif crëature!

Myn hole affiaunce, and my lady free,

My goddes bright, my fortune and my ure,

635

I yeve and yeld my hart to thee full sure,

Humbly beseching, lady, of thy grace

Me to bestowe into som blessed place.

And here I vow me feithfull, true, and kind,Without offence of mutabilitee,640Humbly to serve, whyl I have wit and mind,Myn hole affiaunce, and my lady free!In thilkë place, there ye me sign to be:And, sith this thing of newe is yeve me, ayTo love and serve, needly must I obey.

And here I vow me feithfull, true, and kind,

Without offence of mutabilitee,

640

Humbly to serve, whyl I have wit and mind,

Myn hole affiaunce, and my lady free!

In thilkë place, there ye me sign to be:

And, sith this thing of newe is yeve me, ay

To love and serve, needly must I obey.

645Be merciable with thy fire of grace,And fix myne hert there bewtie is and routh,For hote I love, determine in no place,Sauf only this, by god and by my trouth,Trowbled I was with slomber, slepe, and slouth650This other night, and in a visiounI sey a woman romen up and down,

645

Be merciable with thy fire of grace,

And fix myne hert there bewtie is and routh,

For hote I love, determine in no place,

Sauf only this, by god and by my trouth,

Trowbled I was with slomber, slepe, and slouth

650

This other night, and in a visioun

I sey a woman romen up and down,

Of mene stature, and seemly to behold,Lusty and fresh, demure of countynaunce,Yong and wel shap, with here [that] shoon as gold,655With yen as cristall, farced with plesaunce;And she gan stir myne harte a lite to daunce;But sodenly she vanissh gan right there:Thus I may sey, I love and wot not where.

Of mene stature, and seemly to behold,

Lusty and fresh, demure of countynaunce,

Yong and wel shap, with here [that] shoon as gold,

655

With yen as cristall, farced with plesaunce;

And she gan stir myne harte a lite to daunce;

But sodenly she vanissh gan right there:

Thus I may sey, I love and wot not where.

For what she is, ne her dwelling I not,660And yet I fele that love distraineth me:Might ich her know, that wold I fain, god wot,Serve and obey with all benignitee.And if that other be my destinee,So that no wyse I shall her never see,665Than graunt me her that best may lyken me,

For what she is, ne her dwelling I not,

660

And yet I fele that love distraineth me:

Might ich her know, that wold I fain, god wot,

Serve and obey with all benignitee.

And if that other be my destinee,

So that no wyse I shall her never see,

665

Than graunt me her that best may lyken me,

With glad rejoyse to live in parfit hele,Devoide of wrath, repent, or variaunce;And able me to do that may be weleUnto my lady, with hertes by plesaunce:670And, mighty goddes! through thy purviaunceMy wit, my thought, my lust and love so gyde,That to thyne honour I may me provyde

With glad rejoyse to live in parfit hele,

Devoide of wrath, repent, or variaunce;

And able me to do that may be wele

Unto my lady, with hertes by plesaunce:

670

And, mighty goddes! through thy purviaunce

My wit, my thought, my lust and love so gyde,

That to thyne honour I may me provyde

To set myne herte in place there I may lyke,And gladly serve with all affeccioun.675Gret is the pain which at myn hert doth stik.Till I be sped by thyn eleccioun:Help, lady goddes! that possessiounI might of her have, that in all my lyfeI clepen shall my quene and hertes wife.

To set myne herte in place there I may lyke,

And gladly serve with all affeccioun.

675

Gret is the pain which at myn hert doth stik.

Till I be sped by thyn eleccioun:

Help, lady goddes! that possessioun

I might of her have, that in all my lyfe

I clepen shall my quene and hertes wife.

680And in the Court of Love to dwell for ayMy wille it is, and don thee sacrifice:Daily with Diane eke to fight and fray,And holden werre, as might well me suffice:That goddes chaste I kepen in no wyse685To serve; a fig for all her chastitee!Her lawe is for religiositee.'

680

And in the Court of Love to dwell for ay

My wille it is, and don thee sacrifice:

Daily with Diane eke to fight and fray,

And holden werre, as might well me suffice:

That goddes chaste I kepen in no wyse

685

To serve; a fig for all her chastitee!

Her lawe is for religiositee.'

And thus gan finish preyer, lawde, and preise,Which that I yove to Venus on my knee,And in myne hert to ponder and to peise,690I gave anon hir image fressh bewtie;'Heil to that figure sweet! and heil to thee,Cupide,' quod I, and rose and yede my way;And in the temple as I yede I sey

And thus gan finish preyer, lawde, and preise,

Which that I yove to Venus on my knee,

And in myne hert to ponder and to peise,

690

I gave anon hir image fressh bewtie;

'Heil to that figure sweet! and heil to thee,

Cupide,' quod I, and rose and yede my way;

And in the temple as I yede I sey

A shryne sormownting all in stones riche,695Of which the force was plesaunce to myn y,With diamant or saphire; never licheI have non seyn, ne wrought so wonderly.So whan I met with Philobone, in hyI gan demaund, 'Who[s] is this sepulture?'700'Forsoth,' quod she, 'a tender creature

A shryne sormownting all in stones riche,

695

Of which the force was plesaunce to myn y,

With diamant or saphire; never liche

I have non seyn, ne wrought so wonderly.

So whan I met with Philobone, in hy

I gan demaund, 'Who[s] is this sepulture?'

700

'Forsoth,' quod she, 'a tender creature

Is shryned there, and Pitè is her name.She saw an egle wreke him on a fly,And pluk his wing, and eke him, in his game,And tender herte of that hath made her dy:705Eke she wold wepe, and morn right pitouslyTo seen a lover suffre gret destresse.In all the court nas non that, as I gesse,

Is shryned there, and Pitè is her name.

She saw an egle wreke him on a fly,

And pluk his wing, and eke him, in his game,

And tender herte of that hath made her dy:

705

Eke she wold wepe, and morn right pitously

To seen a lover suffre gret destresse.

In all the court nas non that, as I gesse,

That coude a lover †half so well availe,Ne of his wo the torment or the rage710†Aslaken, for he was sure, withouten faile,That of his grief she coud the hete aswage.In sted of Pitè, spedeth hot corageThe maters all of court, now she is dede;I me report in this to womanhede.

That coude a lover †half so well availe,

Ne of his wo the torment or the rage

710

†Aslaken, for he was sure, withouten faile,

That of his grief she coud the hete aswage.

In sted of Pitè, spedeth hot corage

The maters all of court, now she is dede;

I me report in this to womanhede.

715For weile and wepe, and crye, and speke, and pray,—Women wold not have pitè on thy plaint;Ne by that mene to ese thyn hart convey,But thee receiven for their own talent:And sey, that Pitè causith thee, in consent720Of rewth, to take thy service and thy painIn that thow mayst, to plese thy souverain.

715

For weile and wepe, and crye, and speke, and pray,—

Women wold not have pitè on thy plaint;

Ne by that mene to ese thyn hart convey,

But thee receiven for their own talent:

And sey, that Pitè causith thee, in consent

720

Of rewth, to take thy service and thy pain

In that thow mayst, to plese thy souverain.

But this is councell, keep it secretly;'Quod she, 'I nold, for all the world abowt,The Quene of Love it wist; and wit ye why?725For if by me this matter springen out,In court no lenger shuld I, owt of dowt,Dwellen, but shame in all my life endry:Now kepe it close,' quod she, 'this hardely.

But this is councell, keep it secretly;'

Quod she, 'I nold, for all the world abowt,

The Quene of Love it wist; and wit ye why?

725

For if by me this matter springen out,

In court no lenger shuld I, owt of dowt,

Dwellen, but shame in all my life endry:

Now kepe it close,' quod she, 'this hardely.

Well, all is well! Now shall ye seen,' she seid,730'The feirest lady under son that is:Come on with me, demene you liche a maid,With shamefast dred, for ye shall spede, y-wis,With her that is the mir[th] and joy and blis:But sumwhat straunge and sad of her demene735She is, be ware your countenaunce be sene,

Well, all is well! Now shall ye seen,' she seid,

730

'The feirest lady under son that is:

Come on with me, demene you liche a maid,

With shamefast dred, for ye shall spede, y-wis,

With her that is the mir[th] and joy and blis:

But sumwhat straunge and sad of her demene

735

She is, be ware your countenaunce be sene,

Nor over light, ne recheless, ne to bold,Ne malapert, ne rinning with your tong;For she will you abeisen and behold,And you demaund, why ye were hens so long740Out of this court, without resort among:And Rosiall her name is hote aright,Whose harte †as yet [is] yeven to no wight.

Nor over light, ne recheless, ne to bold,

Ne malapert, ne rinning with your tong;

For she will you abeisen and behold,

And you demaund, why ye were hens so long

740

Out of this court, without resort among:

And Rosiall her name is hote aright,

Whose harte †as yet [is] yeven to no wight.

And ye also ben, as I understond,With love but light avaunced, by your word;745Might ye, by hap, your fredom maken bond,And fall in grace with her, and wele accord,Well might ye thank the god of Love and lord;For she that ye sawe in your dreme appere,To love suche one, what are †ye than the nere?

And ye also ben, as I understond,

With love but light avaunced, by your word;

745

Might ye, by hap, your fredom maken bond,

And fall in grace with her, and wele accord,

Well might ye thank the god of Love and lord;

For she that ye sawe in your dreme appere,

To love suche one, what are †ye than the nere?

750Yit wot ye what? as my rememb[e]raunceMe yevith now, ye fayn, where that ye seyThat ye with love had never acqueintaunce,Sauf in your dreme right late this other day:Why, yis, parde! my life, that durst I lay,755That ye were caught upon an heth, when ISaw you complain, and sigh full pitously;

750

Yit wot ye what? as my rememb[e]raunce

Me yevith now, ye fayn, where that ye sey

That ye with love had never acqueintaunce,

Sauf in your dreme right late this other day:

Why, yis, parde! my life, that durst I lay,

755

That ye were caught upon an heth, when I

Saw you complain, and sigh full pitously;

Within an erber, and a garden fairWith floures growe, and herbes vertuous,Of which the savour swete was and the eyr,760There were your-self full hoot and amorous:Y-wis, ye ben to nice and daungerous;A! wold ye now repent, and love som new?'—'Nay, by my trouth,' I seid, 'I never knew

Within an erber, and a garden fair

With floures growe, and herbes vertuous,

Of which the savour swete was and the eyr,

760

There were your-self full hoot and amorous:

Y-wis, ye ben to nice and daungerous;

A! wold ye now repent, and love som new?'—

'Nay, by my trouth,' I seid, 'I never knew

The goodly wight, whos I shall be for ay:765Guyde me the lord that love hath made and me.'But furth we went in-till a chambre gay,There was Rosiall, womanly to see,Whose stremes sotell-persing of her eeMyn hart gan thrill for bewtie in the stound:770'Alas,' quod I, 'who hath me yeve this wound?'

The goodly wight, whos I shall be for ay:

765

Guyde me the lord that love hath made and me.'

But furth we went in-till a chambre gay,

There was Rosiall, womanly to see,

Whose stremes sotell-persing of her ee

Myn hart gan thrill for bewtie in the stound:

770

'Alas,' quod I, 'who hath me yeve this wound?'

And than I dred to speke, till at the lastI gret the lady reverently and wele,Whan that my sigh was gon and over-past;And down on knees full humbly gan I knele,775Beseching her my fervent wo to kele,For there I took full purpose in my mind,Unto her grace my painfull hart to bind.

And than I dred to speke, till at the last

I gret the lady reverently and wele,

Whan that my sigh was gon and over-past;

And down on knees full humbly gan I knele,

775

Beseching her my fervent wo to kele,

For there I took full purpose in my mind,

Unto her grace my painfull hart to bind.

For if I shall all fully her discryve,Her hede was round, by compace of nature,780Her here as gold,—she passed all on-lyve,—And lily forhede had this crëature,With lovelich browes, flawe, of colour pure,Bytwene the which was mene disseveraunceFrom every brow, to shewe[n] a distaunce.

For if I shall all fully her discryve,

Her hede was round, by compace of nature,

780

Her here as gold,—she passed all on-lyve,—

And lily forhede had this crëature,

With lovelich browes, flawe, of colour pure,

Bytwene the which was mene disseveraunce

From every brow, to shewe[n] a distaunce.

785Her nose directed streight, and even as lyne,With fourm and shap therto convenient,In which the goddes milk-whyt path doth shine;And eke her yen ben bright and orientAs is the smaragde, unto my juggement,790Or yet thise sterres hevenly, smale and bright;Her visage is of lovely rede and whyte.

785

Her nose directed streight, and even as lyne,

With fourm and shap therto convenient,

In which the goddes milk-whyt path doth shine;

And eke her yen ben bright and orient

As is the smaragde, unto my juggement,

790

Or yet thise sterres hevenly, smale and bright;

Her visage is of lovely rede and whyte.

Her mouth is short, and shit in litell space,Flaming somdele, not over-rede, I mene,With pregnant lippes, and thik to kiss, percas;795(For lippes thin, not fat, but ever lene,They serve of naught, they be not worth a bene;For if the basse ben full, there is delyt,Maximian truly thus doth he wryte.)

Her mouth is short, and shit in litell space,

Flaming somdele, not over-rede, I mene,

With pregnant lippes, and thik to kiss, percas;

795

(For lippes thin, not fat, but ever lene,

They serve of naught, they be not worth a bene;

For if the basse ben full, there is delyt,

Maximian truly thus doth he wryte.)

But to my purpose:—I sey, whyte as snow800Ben all her teeth, and in order thay stondOf oon stature; and eke hir breth, I trow,Surmounteth alle odours that ever I fondIn sweetnes; and her body, face, and hondBen sharply slender, so that from the hede805Unto the fote, all is but womanhede.

But to my purpose:—I sey, whyte as snow

800

Ben all her teeth, and in order thay stond

Of oon stature; and eke hir breth, I trow,

Surmounteth alle odours that ever I fond

In sweetnes; and her body, face, and hond

Ben sharply slender, so that from the hede

805

Unto the fote, all is but womanhede.

I hold my pees of other thinges hid:—Here shall my soul, and not my tong, bewray:—But how she was arrayed, if ye me bid,That shall I well discover you and say:810A bend of gold and silk, full fressh and gay;With here in tresse[s], browdered full well,Right smothly kept, and shyning every-del.

I hold my pees of other thinges hid:—

Here shall my soul, and not my tong, bewray:—

But how she was arrayed, if ye me bid,

That shall I well discover you and say:

810

A bend of gold and silk, full fressh and gay;

With here in tresse[s], browdered full well,

Right smothly kept, and shyning every-del.

About her nek a flour of fressh devyseWith rubies set, that lusty were to sene;815And she in gown was, light and somer-wyse,Shapen full wele, the colour was of grene,With aureat seint about her sydes clene,With dyvers stones, precious and riche:—Thus was she rayed, yet saugh I never her liche.

About her nek a flour of fressh devyse

With rubies set, that lusty were to sene;

815

And she in gown was, light and somer-wyse,

Shapen full wele, the colour was of grene,

With aureat seint about her sydes clene,

With dyvers stones, precious and riche:—

Thus was she rayed, yet saugh I never her liche.

820For if that Jove had [but] this lady seyn,Tho Calixto ne [yet] Alcmenia,Thay never hadden in his armes leyn;Ne he had loved the faire Europa;Ye, ne yet Dane ne Antiopa!825For al their bewtie stood in Rosiall;She semed lich a thing celestiall

820

For if that Jove had [but] this lady seyn,

Tho Calixto ne [yet] Alcmenia,

Thay never hadden in his armes leyn;

Ne he had loved the faire Europa;

Ye, ne yet Dane ne Antiopa!

825

For al their bewtie stood in Rosiall;

She semed lich a thing celestiall

In bowntè, favor, port, and semliness,Plesaunt of figure, mirrour of delyt,Gracious to sene, and rote of gentilness,830With angel visage, lusty rede and white:There was not lak, sauf daunger had a liteThis goodly fressh in rule and governaunce;And somdel straunge she was, for her plesaunce.

In bowntè, favor, port, and semliness,

Plesaunt of figure, mirrour of delyt,

Gracious to sene, and rote of gentilness,

830

With angel visage, lusty rede and white:

There was not lak, sauf daunger had a lite

This goodly fressh in rule and governaunce;

And somdel straunge she was, for her plesaunce.

And truly sone I took my leve and went,835Whan she had me enquyred what I was;For more and more impressen gan the dentOf Loves dart, whyl I beheld her face;And eft again I com to seken grace,And up I put my bill, with sentence clere840That folwith aftir; rede and ye shall here.

And truly sone I took my leve and went,

835

Whan she had me enquyred what I was;

For more and more impressen gan the dent

Of Loves dart, whyl I beheld her face;

And eft again I com to seken grace,

And up I put my bill, with sentence clere

840

That folwith aftir; rede and ye shall here.

'O ye [the] fressh, of [all] bewtie the rote,That nature hath fourmed so wele and madePrincesse and Quene! and ye that may do boteOf all my langour with your wordes glad!845Ye wounded me, ye made me wo-bestad;Of grace redress my mortall †grief, as yeOf all myne †harm the verrey causer be.

'O ye [the] fressh, of [all] bewtie the rote,

That nature hath fourmed so wele and made

Princesse and Quene! and ye that may do bote

Of all my langour with your wordes glad!

845

Ye wounded me, ye made me wo-bestad;

Of grace redress my mortall †grief, as ye

Of all myne †harm the verrey causer be.

Now am I caught, and unwar sodenly,With persant stremes of your yën clere,850Subject to ben, and serven you meekly,And all your man, y-wis, my lady dere,Abiding grace, of which I you requere,That merciles ye cause me not to sterve;But guerdon me, liche as I may deserve.

Now am I caught, and unwar sodenly,

With persant stremes of your yën clere,

850

Subject to ben, and serven you meekly,

And all your man, y-wis, my lady dere,

Abiding grace, of which I you requere,

That merciles ye cause me not to sterve;

But guerdon me, liche as I may deserve.

855For, by my troth, the dayes of my brethI am and will be youre in wille and hert,Pacient and meek, for you to suffre dethIf it require; now rewe upon my smert;And this I swere, I never shall out-stert860From Loves Court for none adversitee,So ye wold rewe on my distresse and me.

855

For, by my troth, the dayes of my breth

I am and will be youre in wille and hert,

Pacient and meek, for you to suffre deth

If it require; now rewe upon my smert;

And this I swere, I never shall out-stert

860

From Loves Court for none adversitee,

So ye wold rewe on my distresse and me.

My destinee, †my fate, and ure I bliss,That have me set to ben obedientOnly to you, the flour of all, y-wis:865I trust to Venus never to repent;For ever redy, glad, and diligentYe shall me finde in service to your grace,Till deth my lyfe out of my body race.

My destinee, †my fate, and ure I bliss,

That have me set to ben obedient

Only to you, the flour of all, y-wis:

865

I trust to Venus never to repent;

For ever redy, glad, and diligent

Ye shall me finde in service to your grace,

Till deth my lyfe out of my body race.

Humble unto your excellence so digne,870Enforcing ay my wittes and delytTo serve and plese with glad herte and benigne,And ben as Troilus, [old] Troyes knight,Or Antony for Cleopatre bright,And never you me thinkes to reney:875This shall I kepe unto myne ending-day.

Humble unto your excellence so digne,

870

Enforcing ay my wittes and delyt

To serve and plese with glad herte and benigne,

And ben as Troilus, [old] Troyes knight,

Or Antony for Cleopatre bright,

And never you me thinkes to reney:

875

This shall I kepe unto myne ending-day.

Enprent my speche in your memorialSadly, my princess, salve of all my sore!And think that, for I wold becomen thrall,And ben your own, as I have seyd before,880Ye must of pity cherissh more and moreYour man, and tender aftir his desert,And yive him corage for to ben expert.

Enprent my speche in your memorial

Sadly, my princess, salve of all my sore!

And think that, for I wold becomen thrall,

And ben your own, as I have seyd before,

880

Ye must of pity cherissh more and more

Your man, and tender aftir his desert,

And yive him corage for to ben expert.

For where that oon hath set his herte on fire,And findeth nether refut ne plesaunce,885Ne word of comfort, deth will quyte his hire.Allas! that there is none allegeaunceOf all their wo! allas, the gret grevaunceTo love unloved! But ye, my Lady dere,In other wyse may govern this matere.'

For where that oon hath set his herte on fire,

And findeth nether refut ne plesaunce,

885

Ne word of comfort, deth will quyte his hire.

Allas! that there is none allegeaunce

Of all their wo! allas, the gret grevaunce

To love unloved! But ye, my Lady dere,

In other wyse may govern this matere.'

890'Truly, gramercy, frend, of your good will,And of your profer in your humble wyse!But for your service, take and kepe it still.And where ye say, I ought you well cheryse,And of your gref the remedy devyse,895I know not why: I nam acqueinted wellWith you, ne wot not sothly where ye dwell.'

890

'Truly, gramercy, frend, of your good will,

And of your profer in your humble wyse!

But for your service, take and kepe it still.

And where ye say, I ought you well cheryse,

And of your gref the remedy devyse,

895

I know not why: I nam acqueinted well

With you, ne wot not sothly where ye dwell.'

'In art of love †I wryte, and songes make,That may be song in honour of the KingAnd Quene of Love; and than I undertake,900He that is sad shall than full mery sing.And daunger[o]us not ben in every thingBeseche I you, but seen my will and rede,And let your aunswer put me out of drede.'

'In art of love †I wryte, and songes make,

That may be song in honour of the King

And Quene of Love; and than I undertake,

900

He that is sad shall than full mery sing.

And daunger[o]us not ben in every thing

Beseche I you, but seen my will and rede,

And let your aunswer put me out of drede.'

'What is your name? reherse it here, I pray,905Of whens and where, of what condicionThat ye ben of? Let see, com of and say!Fain wold I know your disposicion:—Ye have put on your old entencion;But what ye mene to servë me I noot,910Sauf that ye say ye love me wonder hoot.'

'What is your name? reherse it here, I pray,

905

Of whens and where, of what condicion

That ye ben of? Let see, com of and say!

Fain wold I know your disposicion:—

Ye have put on your old entencion;

But what ye mene to servë me I noot,

910

Sauf that ye say ye love me wonder hoot.'

'My name? alas, my hert, why [make it straunge?]Philogenet I cald am fer and nere,Of Cambrige clerk, that never think to chaungeFro you that with your hevenly stremes clere915Ravissh myne herte and gost and all in-fere:This is the first, I write my bill for grace,Me think, I see som mercy in your face.

'My name? alas, my hert, why [make it straunge?]

Philogenet I cald am fer and nere,

Of Cambrige clerk, that never think to chaunge

Fro you that with your hevenly stremes clere

915

Ravissh myne herte and gost and all in-fere:

This is the first, I write my bill for grace,

Me think, I see som mercy in your face.

And what I mene, by god that al hath wrought,My bill, that maketh finall mencion,920That ye ben, lady, in myne inward thoughtOf all myne hert without offencion,That I best love, and have, sith I begonTo draw to court. Lo, than! what might I say?I yeld me here, [lo!] unto your nobley.

And what I mene, by god that al hath wrought,

My bill, that maketh finall mencion,

920

That ye ben, lady, in myne inward thought

Of all myne hert without offencion,

That I best love, and have, sith I begon

To draw to court. Lo, than! what might I say?

I yeld me here, [lo!] unto your nobley.

925And if that I offend, or wilfullyBy pompe of hart your precept disobey,Or doon again your will unskillfully,Or greven you, for ernest or for play,Correct ye me right sharply than, I pray,930As it is sene unto your womanhede,And rewe on me, or ellis I nam but dede.'

925

And if that I offend, or wilfully

By pompe of hart your precept disobey,

Or doon again your will unskillfully,

Or greven you, for ernest or for play,

Correct ye me right sharply than, I pray,

930

As it is sene unto your womanhede,

And rewe on me, or ellis I nam but dede.'

'Nay, god forbede to feffe you so with grace,And for a worde of sugred eloquence,To have compassion in so litell space!935Than were it tyme that som of us were hens!Ye shall not find in me suche insolence.Ay? what is this? may ye not suffer sight?How may ye loke upon the candill-light,

'Nay, god forbede to feffe you so with grace,

And for a worde of sugred eloquence,

To have compassion in so litell space!

935

Than were it tyme that som of us were hens!

Ye shall not find in me suche insolence.

Ay? what is this? may ye not suffer sight?

How may ye loke upon the candill-light,

That clere[r] is and hotter than myn y?940And yet ye seid, the bemes perse and frete:—How shall ye than the candel-[l]ight endry?For wel wot ye, that hath the sharper hete.And there ye bid me you correct and bete,If ye offend,—nay, that may not be doon:945There come but few that speden here so soon.

That clere[r] is and hotter than myn y?

940

And yet ye seid, the bemes perse and frete:—

How shall ye than the candel-[l]ight endry?

For wel wot ye, that hath the sharper hete.

And there ye bid me you correct and bete,

If ye offend,—nay, that may not be doon:

945

There come but few that speden here so soon.

Withdraw your y, withdraw from presens eke:Hurt not yourself, through foly, with a loke;I wold be sory so to make you seke:A woman shuld be ware eke whom she toke:950Ye beth a clark:—go serchen [in] my boke,If any women ben so light to win:Nay, byde a whyl, though ye were all my kin.

Withdraw your y, withdraw from presens eke:

Hurt not yourself, through foly, with a loke;

I wold be sory so to make you seke:

A woman shuld be ware eke whom she toke:

950

Ye beth a clark:—go serchen [in] my boke,

If any women ben so light to win:

Nay, byde a whyl, though ye were all my kin.

So soon ye may not win myne harte, in trouthThe gyse of court will seen your stedfastness,955And as ye don, to have upon you rewth.Your own desert, and lowly gentilness,That will reward you joy for heviness;And though ye waxen pale, and grene and dede,Ye must it use a while, withouten drede,

So soon ye may not win myne harte, in trouth

The gyse of court will seen your stedfastness,

955

And as ye don, to have upon you rewth.

Your own desert, and lowly gentilness,

That will reward you joy for heviness;

And though ye waxen pale, and grene and dede,

Ye must it use a while, withouten drede,

960And it accept, and grucchen in no wyse;But where as ye me hastily desyreTo been to love, me think, ye be not wyse.Cese of your language! cese, I you requyre!For he that hath this twenty yere ben here965May not obtayn; than marveile I that yeBe now so bold, of love to trete with me.'

960

And it accept, and grucchen in no wyse;

But where as ye me hastily desyre

To been to love, me think, ye be not wyse.

Cese of your language! cese, I you requyre!

For he that hath this twenty yere ben here

965

May not obtayn; than marveile I that ye

Be now so bold, of love to trete with me.'

'Ah! mercy, hart, my lady and my love,My rightwyse princesse and my lyves guyde!Now may I playn to Venus all above,970That rewthles ye me †give these woundes wyde!What have I don? why may it not betyde,That for my trouth I may received be?Alas! your daunger and your crueltè!

'Ah! mercy, hart, my lady and my love,

My rightwyse princesse and my lyves guyde!

Now may I playn to Venus all above,

970

That rewthles ye me †give these woundes wyde!

What have I don? why may it not betyde,

That for my trouth I may received be?

Alas! your daunger and your crueltè!

In wofull hour I got was, welaway!975In wofull hour [y-]fostred and y-fed,In wofull hour y-born, that I ne mayMy supplicacion swetely have y-sped!The frosty grave and cold must be my bedde,Without ye list your grace and mercy shewe,980Deth with his axe so faste on me doth hewe.

In wofull hour I got was, welaway!

975

In wofull hour [y-]fostred and y-fed,

In wofull hour y-born, that I ne may

My supplicacion swetely have y-sped!

The frosty grave and cold must be my bedde,

Without ye list your grace and mercy shewe,

980

Deth with his axe so faste on me doth hewe.

So greet disese and in so litell whyle,So litell joy, that felte I never yet;And at my wo Fortune ginneth to smyle,That never erst I felt so harde a fit:985Confounded ben my spirits and my wit,Till that my lady take me to her cure,Which I love best of erthely crëature.

So greet disese and in so litell whyle,

So litell joy, that felte I never yet;

And at my wo Fortune ginneth to smyle,

That never erst I felt so harde a fit:

985

Confounded ben my spirits and my wit,

Till that my lady take me to her cure,

Which I love best of erthely crëature.

But that I lyke, that may I not com by;Of that I playn, that have I habondaunce;990Sorrow and thought, thay sit me wounder ny;Me is withhold that might be my plesaunce:Yet turne again, my worldly suffisaunce!O lady bright! and save your feithfull true,And, er I die, yet on[e]s upon me rewe.'

But that I lyke, that may I not com by;

Of that I playn, that have I habondaunce;

990

Sorrow and thought, thay sit me wounder ny;

Me is withhold that might be my plesaunce:

Yet turne again, my worldly suffisaunce!

O lady bright! and save your feithfull true,

And, er I die, yet on[e]s upon me rewe.'

995With that I fell in sounde, and dede as stone,With colour slain, and wan as assh[es] pale;And by the hand she caught me up anon,'Aryse,' quod she, 'what? have ye dronken dwale?Why slepen ye? it is no nightertale.'1000'Now mercy, swete,' quod I, y-wis affrayed:'What thing,' quod she, 'hath mad you so dismayed?

995

With that I fell in sounde, and dede as stone,

With colour slain, and wan as assh[es] pale;

And by the hand she caught me up anon,

'Aryse,' quod she, 'what? have ye dronken dwale?

Why slepen ye? it is no nightertale.'

1000

'Now mercy, swete,' quod I, y-wis affrayed:

'What thing,' quod she, 'hath mad you so dismayed?

Now wot I well that ye a lover be,Your hewe is witnesse in this thing,' she seid:'If ye were secret, [ye] might know,' quod she,1005'Curteise and kind, all this shuld be allayed:And now, myn herte! all that I have misseid,I shall amend, and set your harte in ese.''That word it is,' quod I, 'that doth me plese.'

Now wot I well that ye a lover be,

Your hewe is witnesse in this thing,' she seid:

'If ye were secret, [ye] might know,' quod she,

1005

'Curteise and kind, all this shuld be allayed:

And now, myn herte! all that I have misseid,

I shall amend, and set your harte in ese.'

'That word it is,' quod I, 'that doth me plese.'

'But this I charge, that ye the statuts kepe,1010And breke thaim not for sloth nor ignoraunce.'With that she gan to smyle and laughen depe.'Y-wis,' quod I, 'I will do your plesaunce;The sixteenth statut doth me grete grevaunce,But ye must that relesse or modifie.'1015'I graunt,' quod she, 'and so I will truly.'

'But this I charge, that ye the statuts kepe,

1010

And breke thaim not for sloth nor ignoraunce.'

With that she gan to smyle and laughen depe.

'Y-wis,' quod I, 'I will do your plesaunce;

The sixteenth statut doth me grete grevaunce,

But ye must that relesse or modifie.'

1015

'I graunt,' quod she, 'and so I will truly.'

And softly than her colour gan appeare,As rose so rede, through-out her visage all,Wherefore me think it is according here,That she of right be cleped Rosiall.1020Thus have I won, with wordes grate and small,Some goodly word of hir that I love best,And trust she shall yit set myne harte in rest.

And softly than her colour gan appeare,

As rose so rede, through-out her visage all,

Wherefore me think it is according here,

That she of right be cleped Rosiall.

1020

Thus have I won, with wordes grate and small,

Some goodly word of hir that I love best,

And trust she shall yit set myne harte in rest.

. . . . . .

'Goth on,' she seid to Philobone, 'and takeThis man with you, and lede him all abowt1025Within the court, and shew him, for my sake,What lovers dwell withinne, and all the rowteOf officers; for he is, out of dowte,A straunger yit:'—'Come on,' quod Philobone,'Philogenet, with me now must ye gon.'

'Goth on,' she seid to Philobone, 'and take

This man with you, and lede him all abowt

1025

Within the court, and shew him, for my sake,

What lovers dwell withinne, and all the rowte

Of officers; for he is, out of dowte,

A straunger yit:'—'Come on,' quod Philobone,

'Philogenet, with me now must ye gon.'

1030And stalking soft with esy pace, I sawAbout the king [ther] stonden environ,Attendaunce, Diligence, and their felawFortherer, Esperaunce, and many oon;Dred-to-offend there stood, and not aloon;1035For there was eke the cruell adversair,The lovers fo, that cleped is Dispair,

1030

And stalking soft with esy pace, I saw

About the king [ther] stonden environ,

Attendaunce, Diligence, and their felaw

Fortherer, Esperaunce, and many oon;

Dred-to-offend there stood, and not aloon;

1035

For there was eke the cruell adversair,

The lovers fo, that cleped is Dispair,

Which unto me spak angrely and fell,And said, my lady me deceiven shall:'Trowest thow,' quod she, 'that all that she did tell,1040Is true? Nay, nay, but under hony gall!Thy birth and †hers, [they] be nothing egall:Cast of thyn hart, for all her wordes whyte,For in good faith she lovith thee but a lyte.

Which unto me spak angrely and fell,

And said, my lady me deceiven shall:

'Trowest thow,' quod she, 'that all that she did tell,

1040

Is true? Nay, nay, but under hony gall!

Thy birth and †hers, [they] be nothing egall:

Cast of thyn hart, for all her wordes whyte,

For in good faith she lovith thee but a lyte.

And eek remember, thyn habilite1045May not compare with hir, this well thow wot.'Ye, than cam Hope and said, 'My frend, let be!Beleve him not: Dispair, he ginneth dote.''Alas,' quod I, 'here is both cold and hot:The tone me biddeth love, the toder nay;1050Thus wot I not what me is best to say.

And eek remember, thyn habilite

1045

May not compare with hir, this well thow wot.'

Ye, than cam Hope and said, 'My frend, let be!

Beleve him not: Dispair, he ginneth dote.'

'Alas,' quod I, 'here is both cold and hot:

The tone me biddeth love, the toder nay;

1050

Thus wot I not what me is best to say.

But well wot I, my lady graunted me,Truly to be my woundes remedy;Her gentilness may not infected beWith dobleness, thus trust I till I dy.'1055So cast I void Dispaires company,And taken Hope to councell and to frend.'Ye, kepe that wele,' quod Philobone, 'in mind.'

But well wot I, my lady graunted me,

Truly to be my woundes remedy;

Her gentilness may not infected be

With dobleness, thus trust I till I dy.'

1055

So cast I void Dispaires company,

And taken Hope to councell and to frend.

'Ye, kepe that wele,' quod Philobone, 'in mind.'

And there besyde, within a bay-window,Stood oon in grene, full large of brede and length,1060His berd as blak as fethers of the crow;His name was Lust, of wounder might and strength;And with Delyt to argue there he thenkth,For this was all his [hool] opinion,That love was sin! and so he hath begon

And there besyde, within a bay-window,

Stood oon in grene, full large of brede and length,

1060

His berd as blak as fethers of the crow;

His name was Lust, of wounder might and strength;

And with Delyt to argue there he thenkth,

For this was all his [hool] opinion,

That love was sin! and so he hath begon

1065To reson fast, and legge auctoritè:'Nay,' quod Delyt, 'love is a vertue clere,And from the soule his progress holdeth he:Blind appetyt of lust doth often stere,And that is sin: for reson lakketh there,1070For thow [dost] think thy neighbours wyfe to win:Yit think it well that love may not be sin;

1065

To reson fast, and legge auctoritè:

'Nay,' quod Delyt, 'love is a vertue clere,

And from the soule his progress holdeth he:

Blind appetyt of lust doth often stere,

And that is sin: for reson lakketh there,

1070

For thow [dost] think thy neighbours wyfe to win:

Yit think it well that love may not be sin;

For god and seint, they love right verely,Void of all sin and vice: this knowe I wele,Affeccion of flessh is sin, truly;1075But verray love is vertue, as I fele,For love may not thy freil desire akele:For [verray] love is love withouten sin.''Now stint,' quoth Lust, 'thow spekest not worth a pin.'

For god and seint, they love right verely,

Void of all sin and vice: this knowe I wele,

Affeccion of flessh is sin, truly;

1075

But verray love is vertue, as I fele,

For love may not thy freil desire akele:

For [verray] love is love withouten sin.'

'Now stint,' quoth Lust, 'thow spekest not worth a pin.'

And there I left thaim in their arguing,1080Roming ferther in the castell wyde,And in a corner Lier stood talkingOf lesings fast, with Flatery there besyde;He seid that women were attire of pryde,And men were founde of nature variaunt,1085And coud be false, and shewen beau semblaunt.

And there I left thaim in their arguing,

1080

Roming ferther in the castell wyde,

And in a corner Lier stood talking

Of lesings fast, with Flatery there besyde;

He seid that women were attire of pryde,

And men were founde of nature variaunt,

1085

And coud be false, and shewen beau semblaunt.

Than Flatery bespake and seid, y-wis:'See, so she goth on patens faire and fete,Hit doth right wele: what prety man is thisThat rometh here? Now truly, drink ne mete1090Nede I not have; myne hart for joye doth beteHim to behold, so is he goodly fressh:It semeth for love his harte is tender nessh.'

Than Flatery bespake and seid, y-wis:

'See, so she goth on patens faire and fete,

Hit doth right wele: what prety man is this

That rometh here? Now truly, drink ne mete

1090

Nede I not have; myne hart for joye doth bete

Him to behold, so is he goodly fressh:

It semeth for love his harte is tender nessh.'

This is the court of lusty folk and glad,And wel becometh their habit and array:1095O why be som so sorry and so sad,Complaining thus in blak and whyte and gray?Freres they ben, and monkes, in good fay:Alas, for rewth! greet dole it is to seen,To see thaim thus bewaile and sory been.

This is the court of lusty folk and glad,

And wel becometh their habit and array:

1095

O why be som so sorry and so sad,

Complaining thus in blak and whyte and gray?

Freres they ben, and monkes, in good fay:

Alas, for rewth! greet dole it is to seen,

To see thaim thus bewaile and sory been.

1100See how they cry and wring their handes whyte,For they so sone went to religion!And eke the nonnes, with vaile and wimple plight,There thought that they ben in confusion:'Alas,' thay sayn, 'we fayn perfeccion,1105In clothes wide, and lak our libertè;But all the sin mote on our frendes be.

1100

See how they cry and wring their handes whyte,

For they so sone went to religion!

And eke the nonnes, with vaile and wimple plight,

There thought that they ben in confusion:

'Alas,' thay sayn, 'we fayn perfeccion,

1105

In clothes wide, and lak our libertè;

But all the sin mote on our frendes be.

For, Venus wot, we wold as fayn as ye,That ben attired here and wel besene,Desiren man, and love in our degree,1110Ferme and feithfull, right as wold the quene:Our frendes wikke, in tender youth and grene,Ayenst our will made us religious;That is the cause we morne and wailen thus.'

For, Venus wot, we wold as fayn as ye,

That ben attired here and wel besene,

Desiren man, and love in our degree,

1110

Ferme and feithfull, right as wold the quene:

Our frendes wikke, in tender youth and grene,

Ayenst our will made us religious;

That is the cause we morne and wailen thus.'

Than seid the monks and freres in the tyde,1115'Wel may we curse our abbeys and our place,Our statuts sharp, to sing in copes wyde,Chastly to kepe us out of loves grace,And never to fele comfort ne solace;Yet suffre we the hete of loves fire,1120And after than other haply we desire.

Than seid the monks and freres in the tyde,

1115

'Wel may we curse our abbeys and our place,

Our statuts sharp, to sing in copes wyde,

Chastly to kepe us out of loves grace,

And never to fele comfort ne solace;

Yet suffre we the hete of loves fire,

1120

And after than other haply we desire.

O Fortune cursed, why now and whereforeHast thow,' they seid, 'beraft us libertè,Sith nature yave us instrument in store,And appetyt to love and lovers be?1125Why mot we suffer suche adversitè,Diane to serve, and Venus to refuse?Ful often sith this matier doth us muse.

O Fortune cursed, why now and wherefore

Hast thow,' they seid, 'beraft us libertè,

Sith nature yave us instrument in store,

And appetyt to love and lovers be?

1125

Why mot we suffer suche adversitè,

Diane to serve, and Venus to refuse?

Ful often sith this matier doth us muse.

We serve and honour, sore ayenst our will,Of chastitè the goddes and the quene;1130Us leffer were with Venus byden still,And have reward for love, and soget beenUnto thise women courtly, fressh, and shene.Fortune, we curse thy whele of variaunce!There we were wele, thou revest our plesaunce.'

We serve and honour, sore ayenst our will,

Of chastitè the goddes and the quene;

1130

Us leffer were with Venus byden still,

And have reward for love, and soget been

Unto thise women courtly, fressh, and shene.

Fortune, we curse thy whele of variaunce!

There we were wele, thou revest our plesaunce.'

1135Thus leve I thaim, with voice of pleint and care,In raging wo crying ful pitously;And as I yede, full naked and full bareSome I behold, looking dispitously,On povertè that dedely cast their y;1140And 'Welaway!' they cried, and were not fain,For they ne might their glad desire attain.

1135

Thus leve I thaim, with voice of pleint and care,

In raging wo crying ful pitously;

And as I yede, full naked and full bare

Some I behold, looking dispitously,

On povertè that dedely cast their y;

1140

And 'Welaway!' they cried, and were not fain,

For they ne might their glad desire attain.

For lak of richesse worldely and of †gode,They banne and curse, and wepe, and sein, 'Alas,That poverte hath us hent that whylom stode1145At hartis ese, and free and in good case!But now we dar not shew our-self in place,Ne us embolde to duelle in company,There-as our hart wold love right faithfully.'

For lak of richesse worldely and of †gode,

They banne and curse, and wepe, and sein, 'Alas,

That poverte hath us hent that whylom stode

1145

At hartis ese, and free and in good case!

But now we dar not shew our-self in place,

Ne us embolde to duelle in company,

There-as our hart wold love right faithfully.'

And yet againward shryked every nonne,1150The prang of love so straineth thaim to cry:'Now wo the tyme,' quod thay, 'that we be boun!This hateful ordre nyse will don us dy!We sigh and sobbe, and bleden inwardly,Freting our-self with thought and hard complaint,1155That ney for love we waxen wode and faint.'

And yet againward shryked every nonne,

1150

The prang of love so straineth thaim to cry:

'Now wo the tyme,' quod thay, 'that we be boun!

This hateful ordre nyse will don us dy!

We sigh and sobbe, and bleden inwardly,

Freting our-self with thought and hard complaint,

1155

That ney for love we waxen wode and faint.'

And as I stood beholding here and there,I was war of a sort full languisshing,Savage and wild of loking and of chere,Their mantels and their clothës ay tering;1160And oft thay were of nature complaining,For they their members lakked, fote and hand,With visage wry and blind, I understand.

And as I stood beholding here and there,

I was war of a sort full languisshing,

Savage and wild of loking and of chere,

Their mantels and their clothës ay tering;

1160

And oft thay were of nature complaining,

For they their members lakked, fote and hand,

With visage wry and blind, I understand.

They lakked shap, and beautie to preferreTheim-self in love: and seid, that god and kind1165Hath forged thaim to worshippen the sterre,Venus the bright, and leften all behindHis other werkes clene and out of mind:'For other have their full shape and bewtee,And we,' quod they, 'ben in deformitè.'

They lakked shap, and beautie to preferre

Theim-self in love: and seid, that god and kind

1165

Hath forged thaim to worshippen the sterre,

Venus the bright, and leften all behind

His other werkes clene and out of mind:

'For other have their full shape and bewtee,

And we,' quod they, 'ben in deformitè.'

1170And nye to thaim there was a company,That have the susters waried and misseid;I mene, the three of fatall destinè,That be our †werdes; and sone, in a brayd,Out gan they cry as they had been affrayd,1175'We curse,' quod thay, 'that ever hath natureY-formed us, this wofull lyfe t'endure!'

1170

And nye to thaim there was a company,

That have the susters waried and misseid;

I mene, the three of fatall destinè,

That be our †werdes; and sone, in a brayd,

Out gan they cry as they had been affrayd,

1175

'We curse,' quod thay, 'that ever hath nature

Y-formed us, this wofull lyfe t'endure!'

And there he was contrite, and gan repent,Confessing hole the wound that CitherèHath with the dart of hot desire him sent,1180And how that he to love must subjet be:Than held he all his skornes vanitè,And seid, that lovers lede a blisful lyfe,Yong men and old, and widow, maid and wyfe.

And there he was contrite, and gan repent,

Confessing hole the wound that Citherè

Hath with the dart of hot desire him sent,

1180

And how that he to love must subjet be:

Than held he all his skornes vanitè,

And seid, that lovers lede a blisful lyfe,

Yong men and old, and widow, maid and wyfe.

'Bereve †me, goddesse,' quod he, '[of] thy might,1185My skornes all and skoffes, that I haveNo power forth, to mokken any wight,That in thy service dwell: for I did rave:This know I well right now, so god me save,And I shal be the chief post of thy feith,1190And love uphold, the révers who-so seith.'

'Bereve †me, goddesse,' quod he, '[of] thy might,

1185

My skornes all and skoffes, that I have

No power forth, to mokken any wight,

That in thy service dwell: for I did rave:

This know I well right now, so god me save,

And I shal be the chief post of thy feith,

1190

And love uphold, the révers who-so seith.'

Dissemble stood not fer from him in trouth,With party mantill, party hood and hose;And said, he had upon his lady rowth,And thus he wound him in, and gan to glose1195Of his entent full doble, I suppose:And al the world, he seid, he loved it wele;But ay, me thoughte, he loved her nere a dele.

Dissemble stood not fer from him in trouth,

With party mantill, party hood and hose;

And said, he had upon his lady rowth,

And thus he wound him in, and gan to glose

1195

Of his entent full doble, I suppose:

And al the world, he seid, he loved it wele;

But ay, me thoughte, he loved her nere a dele.

Eek Shamefastness was there, as I took hede,That blusshed rede, and durst nat ben a-knowe1200She lover was, for thereof had she drede;She stood and hing her visage down alowe;But suche a sight it was to sene, I trow,†As of these roses rody on their stalk:There cowd no wight her spy to speke or talk

Eek Shamefastness was there, as I took hede,

That blusshed rede, and durst nat ben a-knowe

1200

She lover was, for thereof had she drede;

She stood and hing her visage down alowe;

But suche a sight it was to sene, I trow,

†As of these roses rody on their stalk:

There cowd no wight her spy to speke or talk

1205In loves art, so gan she to abasshe,Ne durst not utter all her privitè:Many a stripe and many a grevous lassheShe gave to thaim that wolden loveres be,And hindered sore the simpill comonaltè,1210That in no wyse durst grace and mercy crave;For were not she, they need but ask and have;

1205

In loves art, so gan she to abasshe,

Ne durst not utter all her privitè:

Many a stripe and many a grevous lasshe

She gave to thaim that wolden loveres be,

And hindered sore the simpill comonaltè,

1210

That in no wyse durst grace and mercy crave;

For were not she, they need but ask and have;

Where if they now approchin for to speke,Than Shamefastness returnith thaim again:Thay think, if †we our secret councell breke,1215Our ladies will have scorn on us, certain,And [per]aventure thinken greet disdain:Thus Shamefastness may bringin in Dispeir,Whan she is dede, the toder will be heir.

Where if they now approchin for to speke,

Than Shamefastness returnith thaim again:

Thay think, if †we our secret councell breke,

1215

Our ladies will have scorn on us, certain,

And [per]aventure thinken greet disdain:

Thus Shamefastness may bringin in Dispeir,

Whan she is dede, the toder will be heir.

Com forth, Avaunter! now I ring thy bell!1220I spyed him sone; to god I make a-vowe,He loked blak as fendes doth in hell:—'The first,' quod he, 'that ever [I] did †wowe,Within a word she com, I wot not how,So that in armes was my lady free;1225And so hath ben a thousand mo than she.

Com forth, Avaunter! now I ring thy bell!

1220

I spyed him sone; to god I make a-vowe,

He loked blak as fendes doth in hell:—

'The first,' quod he, 'that ever [I] did †wowe,

Within a word she com, I wot not how,

So that in armes was my lady free;

1225

And so hath ben a thousand mo than she.

In Englond, Bretain, Spain, and Pycardie,Arteys, and Fraunce, and up in hy Holand,In Burgoyne, Naples, and [in] Italy,Naverne, and Grece, and up in hethen land,1230Was never woman yit that wold withstandTo ben at myn commaundement, whan I wold:I lakked neither silver, coin, ne gold.

In Englond, Bretain, Spain, and Pycardie,

Arteys, and Fraunce, and up in hy Holand,

In Burgoyne, Naples, and [in] Italy,

Naverne, and Grece, and up in hethen land,

1230

Was never woman yit that wold withstand

To ben at myn commaundement, whan I wold:

I lakked neither silver, coin, ne gold.

And there I met with this estate and that;And here I broched her, and here, I trow:1235Lo! there goth oon of myne; and wot ye what?Yon fressh attired have I leyd full low;And such oon yonder eke right well I know:I kept the statut whan we lay y-fere;And yet yon same hath made me right good chere.'

And there I met with this estate and that;

And here I broched her, and here, I trow:

1235

Lo! there goth oon of myne; and wot ye what?

Yon fressh attired have I leyd full low;

And such oon yonder eke right well I know:

I kept the statut whan we lay y-fere;

And yet yon same hath made me right good chere.'

1240Thus hath Avaunter blowen every-whereAl that he knowith, and more, a thousand-fold;His auncetrye of kin was to Lière,For firste he makith promise for to holdHis ladies councell, and it not unfold;1245Wherfore, the secret when he doth unshit,Than lyeth he, that all the world may wit.

1240

Thus hath Avaunter blowen every-where

Al that he knowith, and more, a thousand-fold;

His auncetrye of kin was to Lière,

For firste he makith promise for to hold

His ladies councell, and it not unfold;

1245

Wherfore, the secret when he doth unshit,

Than lyeth he, that all the world may wit.

For falsing so his promise and behest,I wounder sore he hath such fantasie;He lakketh wit, I trowe, or is a best,1250That can no bet him-self with reson gy.By myn advice, Love shal be contrarieTo his availe, and him eke dishonoure,So that in court he shall no more sojoure.

For falsing so his promise and behest,

I wounder sore he hath such fantasie;

He lakketh wit, I trowe, or is a best,

1250

That can no bet him-self with reson gy.

By myn advice, Love shal be contrarie

To his availe, and him eke dishonoure,

So that in court he shall no more sojoure.

'Take hede,' quod she, this litell Philobone,1255'Where Envy rokketh in the corner yond,And sitteth dirk; and ye shall see anoneHis lenë bodie, fading face and hond;Him-self he fretteth, as I understond;Witnesse of Ovid Methamorphosose;1260The lovers fo he is, I wil not glose.

'Take hede,' quod she, this litell Philobone,

1255

'Where Envy rokketh in the corner yond,

And sitteth dirk; and ye shall see anone

His lenë bodie, fading face and hond;

Him-self he fretteth, as I understond;

Witnesse of Ovid Methamorphosose;

1260

The lovers fo he is, I wil not glose.

For where a lover thinketh him promote,Envy will grucch, repyning at his wele;Hit swelleth sore about his hartes rote,That in no wyse he can not live in hele;1265And if the feithfull to his lady stele,Envy will noise and ring it round aboute,And sey moche worse than don is, out of dowte.'

For where a lover thinketh him promote,

Envy will grucch, repyning at his wele;

Hit swelleth sore about his hartes rote,

That in no wyse he can not live in hele;

1265

And if the feithfull to his lady stele,

Envy will noise and ring it round aboute,

And sey moche worse than don is, out of dowte.'

And Prevy Thought, rejoysing of him-self,Stood not fer thens in habit mervelous;1270'Yon is,' thought [I], 'som spirit or some elf,His sotill image is so curious:How is,' quod I, 'that he is shaded thusWith yonder cloth, I not of what colour?'And nere I went, and gan to lere and pore,

And Prevy Thought, rejoysing of him-self,

Stood not fer thens in habit mervelous;

1270

'Yon is,' thought [I], 'som spirit or some elf,

His sotill image is so curious:

How is,' quod I, 'that he is shaded thus

With yonder cloth, I not of what colour?'

And nere I went, and gan to lere and pore,

1275And frayned him [a] question full hard.'What is,' quod I, 'the thing thou lovest best?Or what is boot unto thy paines hard?Me think, thow livest here in grete unrest;Thow wandrest ay from south to est and west,1280And est to north; as fer as I can see,There is no place in court may holden thee.

1275

And frayned him [a] question full hard.

'What is,' quod I, 'the thing thou lovest best?

Or what is boot unto thy paines hard?

Me think, thow livest here in grete unrest;

Thow wandrest ay from south to est and west,

1280

And est to north; as fer as I can see,

There is no place in court may holden thee.

Whom folowest thow? where is thy harte y-set?But my demaunde asoile, I thee require.''Me thought,' quod he, 'no crëature may let1285†Me to ben here, and where-as I desire:For where-as absence hath don out the fire,My mery thought it kindleth yet again,That bodily, me think, with my souverain

Whom folowest thow? where is thy harte y-set?

But my demaunde asoile, I thee require.'

'Me thought,' quod he, 'no crëature may let

1285

†Me to ben here, and where-as I desire:

For where-as absence hath don out the fire,

My mery thought it kindleth yet again,

That bodily, me think, with my souverain

I stand and speke, and laugh, and kisse, and halse,1290So that my thought comforteth me full oft:I think, god wot, though all the world be false,I will be trewe; I think also how softMy lady is in speche, and this on-loftBringeth myn hart †to joye and [greet] gladnesse;1295This prevey thought alayeth myne hevinesse.

I stand and speke, and laugh, and kisse, and halse,

1290

So that my thought comforteth me full oft:

I think, god wot, though all the world be false,

I will be trewe; I think also how soft

My lady is in speche, and this on-loft

Bringeth myn hart †to joye and [greet] gladnesse;

1295

This prevey thought alayeth myne hevinesse.

And what I thinke, or where to be, no manIn all this erth can tell, y-wis, but I:And eke there nis no swallow swift, ne swanSo wight of wing, ne half [so] yern can fly;1300For I can been, and that right sodenly,In heven, in helle, in paradise, and here,And with my lady, whan I will desire.

And what I thinke, or where to be, no man

In all this erth can tell, y-wis, but I:

And eke there nis no swallow swift, ne swan

So wight of wing, ne half [so] yern can fly;

1300

For I can been, and that right sodenly,

In heven, in helle, in paradise, and here,

And with my lady, whan I will desire.

I am of councell ferre and wyde, I wot,With lord and lady, and their previtè1305I wot it all; but be it cold or hot,They shall not speke without licence of me,I mene, in suche as sesonable be;For first the thing is thought within the hert,Ere any word out from the mouth astert.'

I am of councell ferre and wyde, I wot,

With lord and lady, and their previtè

1305

I wot it all; but be it cold or hot,

They shall not speke without licence of me,

I mene, in suche as sesonable be;

For first the thing is thought within the hert,

Ere any word out from the mouth astert.'

1310And with that word Thought bad farewell and yede:Eke furth went I to seen the courtes gyse:And at the dore cam in, so god me spede,†Twey courteours of age and of assyseLiche high, and brode, and, as I me advyse,1315The Golden Love, and Leden Love thay hight:The ton was sad, the toder glad and light.

1310

And with that word Thought bad farewell and yede:

Eke furth went I to seen the courtes gyse:

And at the dore cam in, so god me spede,

†Twey courteours of age and of assyse

Liche high, and brode, and, as I me advyse,

1315

The Golden Love, and Leden Love thay hight:

The ton was sad, the toder glad and light.

[Some stanzas lost.]

'Yis! draw your hart, with all your force and might,To lustiness, and been as ye have seid;And think that I no drop of favour hight,1320Ne never had to your desire obeyd,Till sodenly, me thought, me was affrayed,To seen you wax so dede of countenaunce;And Pitè bad me don you some plasaunce.

'Yis! draw your hart, with all your force and might,

To lustiness, and been as ye have seid;

And think that I no drop of favour hight,

1320

Ne never had to your desire obeyd,

Till sodenly, me thought, me was affrayed,

To seen you wax so dede of countenaunce;

And Pitè bad me don you some plasaunce.

Out of her shryne she roos from deth to lyve,1325And in myne ere full prevely she spak,"Doth not your servaunt hens away to dryve,Rosiall," quod she; and than myn harte [it] brak,For tender †reuth: and where I found moch lakIn your persoune, †than I my-self bethought,1330And seid, "This is the man myne harte hath sought."'

Out of her shryne she roos from deth to lyve,

1325

And in myne ere full prevely she spak,

"Doth not your servaunt hens away to dryve,

Rosiall," quod she; and than myn harte [it] brak,

For tender †reuth: and where I found moch lak

In your persoune, †than I my-self bethought,

1330

And seid, "This is the man myne harte hath sought."'

'Gramercy, Pitè! might I †but sufficeTo yeve the lawde unto thy shryne of gold,God wot, I wold; for sith that †thou did riseFrom deth to lyve for me, I am behold1335To †thanken you a thousand tymes told,And eke my lady Rosiall the shene,Which hath in comfort set myn harte, I wene.

'Gramercy, Pitè! might I †but suffice

To yeve the lawde unto thy shryne of gold,

God wot, I wold; for sith that †thou did rise

From deth to lyve for me, I am behold

1335

To †thanken you a thousand tymes told,

And eke my lady Rosiall the shene,

Which hath in comfort set myn harte, I wene.

And here I make myn protestacion,And depely swere, as [to] myn power, to been1340Feithfull, devoid of variacion,And her forbere in anger or in tene,And serviceable to my worldes quene,With al my reson and intelligence,To don her honour high and reverence.'

And here I make myn protestacion,

And depely swere, as [to] myn power, to been

1340

Feithfull, devoid of variacion,

And her forbere in anger or in tene,

And serviceable to my worldes quene,

With al my reson and intelligence,

To don her honour high and reverence.'

1345I had not spoke so sone the word, but she,My souverain, did thank me hartily,And seid, 'Abyde, ye shall dwell still with meTill seson come of May; for than, truly,The King of Love and all his company1350Shall hold his fest full ryally and well:'And there I bode till that the seson fell.

1345

I had not spoke so sone the word, but she,

My souverain, did thank me hartily,

And seid, 'Abyde, ye shall dwell still with me

Till seson come of May; for than, truly,

The King of Love and all his company

1350

Shall hold his fest full ryally and well:'

And there I bode till that the seson fell.

. . . . . .

On May-day, whan the lark began to ryse,To matens went the lusty nightingaleWithin a temple shapen hawthorn-wise;1355He might not slepe in all the nightertale,But 'Domine labia,' gan he crye and gale,'My lippes open, Lord of Love, I crye,And let my mouth thy preising now bewrye.'

On May-day, whan the lark began to ryse,

To matens went the lusty nightingale

Within a temple shapen hawthorn-wise;

1355

He might not slepe in all the nightertale,

But 'Domine labia,' gan he crye and gale,

'My lippes open, Lord of Love, I crye,

And let my mouth thy preising now bewrye.'

The eagle sang 'Venite, bodies all,1360And let us joye to love that is our helth.'And to the deske anon they gan to fall,And who come late, he pressed in by stelth:Than seid the fawcon, our own hartis welth,'Domine, Dominus noster, I wot,1365Ye be the god that don us bren thus hot.'

The eagle sang 'Venite, bodies all,

1360

And let us joye to love that is our helth.'

And to the deske anon they gan to fall,

And who come late, he pressed in by stelth:

Than seid the fawcon, our own hartis welth,

'Domine, Dominus noster, I wot,

1365

Ye be the god that don us bren thus hot.'

'Celi enarrant,' said the popingay,'Your might is told in heven and firmament.'And than came in the goldfinch fresh and gay,And said this psalm with hertly glad intent,1370'Domini est terra; this Laten intent,The god of Love hath erth in governaunce:'And than the wren gan skippen and to daunce.

'Celi enarrant,' said the popingay,

'Your might is told in heven and firmament.'

And than came in the goldfinch fresh and gay,

And said this psalm with hertly glad intent,

1370

'Domini est terra; this Laten intent,

The god of Love hath erth in governaunce:'

And than the wren gan skippen and to daunce.

'Jube, Domine, Lord of Love, I prayCommaund me well this lesson for to rede;1375This legend is of all that wolden deyMarters for love; god yive the sowles spede!And to thee, Venus, †sing we, out of drede,By influence of all thy vertue grete,Beseching thee to kepe us in our hete.'

'Jube, Domine, Lord of Love, I pray

Commaund me well this lesson for to rede;

1375

This legend is of all that wolden dey

Marters for love; god yive the sowles spede!

And to thee, Venus, †sing we, out of drede,

By influence of all thy vertue grete,

Beseching thee to kepe us in our hete.'

1380The second lesson robin redebrest sang,'Hail to the god and goddess of our lay!'And to the lectorn †amorously he sprang:—'Hail,' quod [he] eke, 'O fresh seson of May,Our moneth glad that singen on the spray!1385Hail to the floures, rede, and whyte, and blewe,Which by their vertue make our lustes newe!'

1380

The second lesson robin redebrest sang,

'Hail to the god and goddess of our lay!'

And to the lectorn †amorously he sprang:—

'Hail,' quod [he] eke, 'O fresh seson of May,

Our moneth glad that singen on the spray!

1385

Hail to the floures, rede, and whyte, and blewe,

Which by their vertue make our lustes newe!'

The thrid lesson the turtill-dove took up,And therat lough the mavis [as] in scorn:He said, 'O god, as mot I dyne or sup,1390This folissh dove will give us all an horn!There been right here a thousand better born,To rede this lesson, which, as well as he,And eke as hot, can love in all degree.'

The thrid lesson the turtill-dove took up,

And therat lough the mavis [as] in scorn:

He said, 'O god, as mot I dyne or sup,

1390

This folissh dove will give us all an horn!

There been right here a thousand better born,

To rede this lesson, which, as well as he,

And eke as hot, can love in all degree.'

The turtill-dove said, 'Welcom, welcom, May,1395Gladsom and light to loveres that ben trewe!I thank thee, Lord of Love, that doth purveyFor me to rede this lesson all of dewe;For, in gode sooth, of corage I †pursueTo serve my make till deth us must depart:'1400And than 'Tu autem' sang he all apart.

The turtill-dove said, 'Welcom, welcom, May,

1395

Gladsom and light to loveres that ben trewe!

I thank thee, Lord of Love, that doth purvey

For me to rede this lesson all of dewe;

For, in gode sooth, of corage I †pursue

To serve my make till deth us must depart:'

1400

And than 'Tu autem' sang he all apart.

'Te deum amoris' sang the thrustell-cok:Tuball him-self, the first musician,With key of armony coude not unlokSo swete [a] tewne as that the thrustill can:1405'The Lord of Love we praisen,' quod he than,'And so don all the fowles, grete and lyte;Honour we May, in fals lovers dispyte.'

'Te deum amoris' sang the thrustell-cok:

Tuball him-self, the first musician,

With key of armony coude not unlok

So swete [a] tewne as that the thrustill can:

1405

'The Lord of Love we praisen,' quod he than,

'And so don all the fowles, grete and lyte;

Honour we May, in fals lovers dispyte.'

'Dominus regnavit,' seid the pecok there,'The Lord of Love, that mighty prince, y-wis,1410He hath received her[e] and every-where:NowJubilate†sing:'—'What meneth this?'Seid than the linet; 'welcom, Lord of blisse!'Out-stert the owl with 'Benedicite,What meneth al this mery fare?' quod he.

'Dominus regnavit,' seid the pecok there,

'The Lord of Love, that mighty prince, y-wis,

1410

He hath received her[e] and every-where:

NowJubilate†sing:'—'What meneth this?'

Seid than the linet; 'welcom, Lord of blisse!'

Out-stert the owl with 'Benedicite,

What meneth al this mery fare?' quod he.

1415'Laudate,' sang the lark with voice full shrill;And eke the kite, 'O admirabile;This quere will throgh myne eris pers and thrill;But what? welcom this May seson,' quod he;'And honour to the Lord of Love mot be,1420That hath this feest so solemn and so high:''Amen,' seid all; and so seid eke the pye.

1415

'Laudate,' sang the lark with voice full shrill;

And eke the kite, 'O admirabile;

This quere will throgh myne eris pers and thrill;

But what? welcom this May seson,' quod he;

'And honour to the Lord of Love mot be,

1420

That hath this feest so solemn and so high:'

'Amen,' seid all; and so seid eke the pye.

And furth the cokkow gan procede anon,With 'Benedictus' thanking god in hast,That in this May wold visite thaim echon,1425And gladden thaim all whyl the fest shall last:And therewithall a-loughter out he brast,'I thank it god that I shuld end the song,And all the service which hath been so long.'

And furth the cokkow gan procede anon,

With 'Benedictus' thanking god in hast,

That in this May wold visite thaim echon,

1425

And gladden thaim all whyl the fest shall last:

And therewithall a-loughter out he brast,

'I thank it god that I shuld end the song,

And all the service which hath been so long.'

Thus sang thay all the service of the fest,1430And that was don right erly, to my dome;And furth goth all the Court, both most and lest,To feche the floures fressh, and braunche and blome;And namly, hawthorn brought both page and grome.With fressh garlandës, partie blewe and whyte,1435And thaim rejoysen in their greet delyt.

Thus sang thay all the service of the fest,

1430

And that was don right erly, to my dome;

And furth goth all the Court, both most and lest,

To feche the floures fressh, and braunche and blome;

And namly, hawthorn brought both page and grome.

With fressh garlandës, partie blewe and whyte,

1435

And thaim rejoysen in their greet delyt.

Eke eche at other threw the floures bright,The prymerose, the violet, the gold;So than, as I beheld the ryall sight,My lady gan me sodenly behold,1440And with a trew-love, plited many-fold,She smoot me through the [very] hert as blyve;And Venus yet I thanke I am alyve.

Eke eche at other threw the floures bright,

The prymerose, the violet, the gold;

So than, as I beheld the ryall sight,

My lady gan me sodenly behold,

1440

And with a trew-love, plited many-fold,

She smoot me through the [very] hert as blyve;

And Venus yet I thanke I am alyve.

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