BALLADThou, O Love, the traitor art!Tender once as any may,Then the wielder of the dartThat is pointed but to slay.Thee with reason, by my fay,Double-visaged we declare:One is as the ashes grey,But one is as an angel fair.Loth am I to find my partIn the night without a ray,Yet desire hath stung my heartAnd I sigh in sorrow's sway.[pg 55]Gentle hope will never stayIn the mansions of despair:One to death would point the way,But one is as an angel fair.Hope might in my spirit start,Death thy servant bids her nay:While beneath thy scourge I smart,Doleful still must be my lay,Since to set my steps astray,Thou at once art wheat and tare:One is like a devil, yea,But one is as an angel fair.Love, thou teachest me to sayDouble tribute is to payFor thy servants everywhere:One is grievous, well-a-day!But one is as an angel fair.Much did this ballad charm my cousin, but greatly was he distressed at my grief, and in this manner did I, who never wearied of, or ceased from, weeping, make an end to my discourse. And thereby my distemper was diminished, but my cousin was forthwith angered when he saw me thus discomforted. And he spake thus to me: “Alack-a-day! Right well do I perceive that you possess little discretion and courage. What reason have you, fair Sir, to demean you thus? [pg 56] Certes, you should be happy, methinks, since your lady, by her messenger, makes promise to you of solace at a fitting time. You are foolish when you relinquish the hope which gives you comfort, for be assured that your lady is mindful of your love, and that she longs to give you pleasure. How can such grief enter your foolish thoughts, so as to allow you to be thus cast down and to die of despair? Many a lover, without any hope of being loved by his mistress, has longwhiles served in great anguish without any solace either of soul or body, and not a single glance from her has he received, nor has he dared to approach her for fear of slander. If you have patience, and believe what I say, certes, you have but to make plaint as I have done, and you will soon be able to attain your desire. Since your lady takes pleasure in your doings, you may be assured that no fear will be strong enough to restrain her. But however grievous it may be, it may lead to your undoing that you have allowed so long time to pass by without making her acquainted with your state. Very certain is it that never will she importune you, and I know not wherefore you were so foolish that, when you had opportunity, and were [pg 57] unhindered, you spake not to her of all the love with the which you loved her, instead of giving yourself up longwhiles to dreams!”Then I forthwith made answer, “Alas, Cousin! I dared not, even if I had fitting opportunity, for I was afraid, and so much did I fear her, that I dared not tell her of it, even if I died because of this. For this reason I faltered, and greatly do I repent me of it, but never had I the courage to do it, for in her presence I was greatly disquieted, although when I was alone I thought to myself that I would speak to her. And it ofttimes happened to me thus, but, certes, I persevered not when I was in her presence. The delight of her loving glance, the which was so sweet to me, filled me with such great ecstasy, that it seemed to me that she would perceive my distress of mind without my saying aught.”Then my cousin made answer, “Foolish is the lover who hides from a lady the love he bears her, for, on my soul, the delay may do him sore hurt. But since you dared not speak to her because of the fear which possessed you, as you know well how to write, wherefore do you not send her a letter or missive? And I [pg 58] am still more surprised at your folly that, when you received her messenger, you sent not back word to her of your state since the time when you parted from her. And wherefore did you delay? His coming was indeed timely had not your folly held you back, and in this I without doubt speak the truth, for, since she so desired to give you gratification that she took thought to hear news of your doings, you can perceive that your love was in her thoughts. She must indeed regard you as a novice since you sent not to her! Never a day let fall from your lips a single word in anywise touching upon sadness, but rather be cheerful, and leave all to me, and so well shall I know how to deceive every one, that I am willing to become a monk if there is any one on this earth who will be able to hinder you from seeing the fair one without this ever being noised abroad, if she so wills it, and you desire it. So grieve no more, but make glad countenance, for, without preaching longer to you, I make promise and swear to you that ere the week is passed, more than once shall you see your lady. And if God guides me in this, verily shall I find out the way to accomplish this.”Then, even as the light illumines the darkness, and [pg 59] the exceeding brightness of the sun banishes the gloom, so was the cruel torment of my suffering subdued and ended by this one, who so truly comforted me that he filled me with joy and gladness, and stayed my grief, so that I had naught left of the which to make complaint.And in nowise did he make default, but when that an hour and a half was gone by, he set forth to my lady. To be brief, he spoke prudently to the fair one, and right gladly did he plead on my behalf, and of his own free will he told unto her all the truth concerning my sad trouble, and how that he had found me nigh unto death, and knew not whether I could recover from the sickness the which constrained me not to stir from my bed, and he told her all, and, in a word, that he could not comfort me. Then he counselled her that, for God's sake, she should not suffer one so young to be placed in peril of death by reason of too great love of her, and that she would be to blame if she were the cause of my death.In such manner did he, by his gentle and wise speech, entreat my lady to feel pity for the sickness from the which I was languishing on account of her, since never did I waver in the desire the which [pg 60] brought misery unto me and made me long to see her. And he told me that when he had ended his discourse, he saw that the fair one, who was very silent, was pale as death, and of very sad countenance, and he well perceived from her demeanour that my sickness grieved her, and aroused her compassion, but she ne'ertheless desired it to appear quite otherwise. And she spake in this wise: “This is a strange thing that you tell unto me, fair Sir, that my cousin and yours is in this state. By the Apostle Paul, scarce can I believe that he could ever have thought on this! Good God, that this should have entered his thoughts! But if this be so, doubtless it is naught but youthfulness and great lack of prudence which plunges him into sadness, and, with God's help, in a little while this will pass away. Turn him from this if you can, and counsel him that he put an end to it, and turn his thoughts elsewhere, for never could he come near me without great ill coming of it if that he were seen. I wot not how it came to the knowledge of that spy (God curse him), by reason of whom I have not the courage to speak to any living man, and if he were within, I should not dare to hold converse thus with [pg 61] you. Since he discovered that this young man had the daring to love me, he has filled my lord with bitter anger, and has aroused such jealousy of me, that in nowise do I dare speak to any one alone, and wheresoe'er I am, there the varlet must be, and I have him ever at my heels, for he is set to keep watch on me. And I fear me that all this is only because of suspicion of your cousin, for he pays close attention to that which is said to me, and ofttimes goes to the gate to see who enters here. And by God I swear to you that, if it were not for qualms of conscience, I would have him so well beaten by my kinsfolk that, unless he were very foolhardy, never would he dare return to keep watch on me. And so that this espial, the which is so irksome to me, might come to an end, I sent word to your cousin, and urged him much that for awhile he would refrain from coming hither, so that this spy might not see him, and that when this watchfulness was somewhat abated, he could come to see us, and more he could not look for. It indeed seems to me certain that it will come to an end by degrees, and thus I believe that doubtless my lord will no longer give thought to jealousy, so that he will soon be able [pg 62] to come here, but sincerely do I believe that, if he has a care for me, it will be better that he keep away, and come not here. Of a truth, as every one bears witness, the love which dwells only in the imagination, fades away.”Thus strangely did she make answer, and not a word more did she utter for my comfort. And he forthwith made answer in this wise: “You are so full of compassion, my Lady, that, whatever you may say, I tell you truly I believe not that you will leave him, who is wholly yours, to perish both in body and soul. You have said that I can turn him from it. Yea, truly, by rending his soul from his body! No other way do I know. Certes, I have made every endeavour to divert him from it, but I tell you, forsooth, that he will die if he is left without hope, and naught will you have profited if his days are cut off through losing you. Worthy Lady, give me your answer, for I care not a whit for the jealous one, and never will his spies make use of such cunning that I shall not altogether deceive them. But, since I perceive you pity him, grant him this favour. I speak thus much of him to you so that you may be willing that he come here with [pg 63] me, and I will apparel him duly and fittingly, and will so much concern me with this, that he shall be recognised of none provided you tell me how you would that he should deport himself in order to see you. So hesitate no longer, for the matter moves too slowly for him.”And she said: “In nowise believe that I am so much his enemy that his grief and his sorrow do not cause me much discomfiture, for you may know of a truth that right well do I love him, and he is right in guarding mine honour, and without delay I shall do all that should content him, but I am not willing to say more now concerning this matter save that he demean himself with prudence, and come not here as yet, butyoumay come ofttimes provided you hold but little discourse with me before this spy. Let me know of your doings by one who is prudent, who shall go to you. This messenger is loyal, I give you my faith, and if you and he trust not one another, I shall be uneasy, for none other dare approach me. And now we have discoursed together long enough, and we know not whether we are being watched. So tell your friend that he may be joyous and happy, and [pg 64] that you have so prevailed with me that, if violence does not intervene, he will not fail in that which he asks for. Thus you will commend me to him, and cheer him, saying that ere a week is gone by he will be able to see much of me. And let us hold counsel together no longer now, and do you trouble yourself no more about the matter. We have indeed been fortunate in that we have not been disturbed whiles that we have so long time discoursed together at our ease. Await, however, my lord, who, as I well know, has not for long time had such pleasure as he will have when he knows of your coming. Meanwhiles, we will play at chess. We may amuse ourselves in this manner for a while.”And then, without more ado, they forthwith commenced to play at a side table. And at the end of the game the master and lord entered the chamber. Then my cousin went towards him, and when the latter met him, he gave him hearty welcome, and said that his coming was very pleasing, and that he was welcome. In a word, without detaining you longer, he treated him with great deference, and said that all that was his was at his command, and that whensoe'er [pg 65] he stayed in those parts, nowhere else must he lodge, but he must come there. This would give him happiness above all things, but otherwise he would be displeased. And the latter gave him much thanks for this. And on the morrow, after meat, he took his leave and departed thence, and he hasted his return, for he knew how I was longing for this and that it would bring me very great delight.And when he was returned, he related unto me all that had happened to him on his journey, and that he believed that my affairs would prosper right well provided it were pursued yonder quickly and with skill, wherefore, as he had made promise to my lady, he would have all things, both great and small, under his ordering, since he had so agreed with her. Thus did he tell and recount all to me.Then much joy had I in my heart, the which had erewhile been in sorrow which harassed it. But in order the sooner to advance my affair, he advised me that in the first place I should write a letter, in the which I should wholly set forth my condition, and how that love of her weighed heavily upon me, and that she should hearken to the plaint of her slave who [pg 66] besought her love and asked naught beside, and that I should put all suchlike things in a sealed letter, and he would be the bearer of it for to assuage my grief. And I trusted in him, and so I wrote a letter in the which I set forth how it fared with me by reason of love of her, and all that grieved me. And I enclosed two ballads with the letter, the which I sealed, to the rehearsal of which give heed all you who incline unto love.
BALLADThou, O Love, the traitor art!Tender once as any may,Then the wielder of the dartThat is pointed but to slay.Thee with reason, by my fay,Double-visaged we declare:One is as the ashes grey,But one is as an angel fair.Loth am I to find my partIn the night without a ray,Yet desire hath stung my heartAnd I sigh in sorrow's sway.[pg 55]Gentle hope will never stayIn the mansions of despair:One to death would point the way,But one is as an angel fair.Hope might in my spirit start,Death thy servant bids her nay:While beneath thy scourge I smart,Doleful still must be my lay,Since to set my steps astray,Thou at once art wheat and tare:One is like a devil, yea,But one is as an angel fair.Love, thou teachest me to sayDouble tribute is to payFor thy servants everywhere:One is grievous, well-a-day!But one is as an angel fair.Much did this ballad charm my cousin, but greatly was he distressed at my grief, and in this manner did I, who never wearied of, or ceased from, weeping, make an end to my discourse. And thereby my distemper was diminished, but my cousin was forthwith angered when he saw me thus discomforted. And he spake thus to me: “Alack-a-day! Right well do I perceive that you possess little discretion and courage. What reason have you, fair Sir, to demean you thus? [pg 56] Certes, you should be happy, methinks, since your lady, by her messenger, makes promise to you of solace at a fitting time. You are foolish when you relinquish the hope which gives you comfort, for be assured that your lady is mindful of your love, and that she longs to give you pleasure. How can such grief enter your foolish thoughts, so as to allow you to be thus cast down and to die of despair? Many a lover, without any hope of being loved by his mistress, has longwhiles served in great anguish without any solace either of soul or body, and not a single glance from her has he received, nor has he dared to approach her for fear of slander. If you have patience, and believe what I say, certes, you have but to make plaint as I have done, and you will soon be able to attain your desire. Since your lady takes pleasure in your doings, you may be assured that no fear will be strong enough to restrain her. But however grievous it may be, it may lead to your undoing that you have allowed so long time to pass by without making her acquainted with your state. Very certain is it that never will she importune you, and I know not wherefore you were so foolish that, when you had opportunity, and were [pg 57] unhindered, you spake not to her of all the love with the which you loved her, instead of giving yourself up longwhiles to dreams!”Then I forthwith made answer, “Alas, Cousin! I dared not, even if I had fitting opportunity, for I was afraid, and so much did I fear her, that I dared not tell her of it, even if I died because of this. For this reason I faltered, and greatly do I repent me of it, but never had I the courage to do it, for in her presence I was greatly disquieted, although when I was alone I thought to myself that I would speak to her. And it ofttimes happened to me thus, but, certes, I persevered not when I was in her presence. The delight of her loving glance, the which was so sweet to me, filled me with such great ecstasy, that it seemed to me that she would perceive my distress of mind without my saying aught.”Then my cousin made answer, “Foolish is the lover who hides from a lady the love he bears her, for, on my soul, the delay may do him sore hurt. But since you dared not speak to her because of the fear which possessed you, as you know well how to write, wherefore do you not send her a letter or missive? And I [pg 58] am still more surprised at your folly that, when you received her messenger, you sent not back word to her of your state since the time when you parted from her. And wherefore did you delay? His coming was indeed timely had not your folly held you back, and in this I without doubt speak the truth, for, since she so desired to give you gratification that she took thought to hear news of your doings, you can perceive that your love was in her thoughts. She must indeed regard you as a novice since you sent not to her! Never a day let fall from your lips a single word in anywise touching upon sadness, but rather be cheerful, and leave all to me, and so well shall I know how to deceive every one, that I am willing to become a monk if there is any one on this earth who will be able to hinder you from seeing the fair one without this ever being noised abroad, if she so wills it, and you desire it. So grieve no more, but make glad countenance, for, without preaching longer to you, I make promise and swear to you that ere the week is passed, more than once shall you see your lady. And if God guides me in this, verily shall I find out the way to accomplish this.”Then, even as the light illumines the darkness, and [pg 59] the exceeding brightness of the sun banishes the gloom, so was the cruel torment of my suffering subdued and ended by this one, who so truly comforted me that he filled me with joy and gladness, and stayed my grief, so that I had naught left of the which to make complaint.And in nowise did he make default, but when that an hour and a half was gone by, he set forth to my lady. To be brief, he spoke prudently to the fair one, and right gladly did he plead on my behalf, and of his own free will he told unto her all the truth concerning my sad trouble, and how that he had found me nigh unto death, and knew not whether I could recover from the sickness the which constrained me not to stir from my bed, and he told her all, and, in a word, that he could not comfort me. Then he counselled her that, for God's sake, she should not suffer one so young to be placed in peril of death by reason of too great love of her, and that she would be to blame if she were the cause of my death.In such manner did he, by his gentle and wise speech, entreat my lady to feel pity for the sickness from the which I was languishing on account of her, since never did I waver in the desire the which [pg 60] brought misery unto me and made me long to see her. And he told me that when he had ended his discourse, he saw that the fair one, who was very silent, was pale as death, and of very sad countenance, and he well perceived from her demeanour that my sickness grieved her, and aroused her compassion, but she ne'ertheless desired it to appear quite otherwise. And she spake in this wise: “This is a strange thing that you tell unto me, fair Sir, that my cousin and yours is in this state. By the Apostle Paul, scarce can I believe that he could ever have thought on this! Good God, that this should have entered his thoughts! But if this be so, doubtless it is naught but youthfulness and great lack of prudence which plunges him into sadness, and, with God's help, in a little while this will pass away. Turn him from this if you can, and counsel him that he put an end to it, and turn his thoughts elsewhere, for never could he come near me without great ill coming of it if that he were seen. I wot not how it came to the knowledge of that spy (God curse him), by reason of whom I have not the courage to speak to any living man, and if he were within, I should not dare to hold converse thus with [pg 61] you. Since he discovered that this young man had the daring to love me, he has filled my lord with bitter anger, and has aroused such jealousy of me, that in nowise do I dare speak to any one alone, and wheresoe'er I am, there the varlet must be, and I have him ever at my heels, for he is set to keep watch on me. And I fear me that all this is only because of suspicion of your cousin, for he pays close attention to that which is said to me, and ofttimes goes to the gate to see who enters here. And by God I swear to you that, if it were not for qualms of conscience, I would have him so well beaten by my kinsfolk that, unless he were very foolhardy, never would he dare return to keep watch on me. And so that this espial, the which is so irksome to me, might come to an end, I sent word to your cousin, and urged him much that for awhile he would refrain from coming hither, so that this spy might not see him, and that when this watchfulness was somewhat abated, he could come to see us, and more he could not look for. It indeed seems to me certain that it will come to an end by degrees, and thus I believe that doubtless my lord will no longer give thought to jealousy, so that he will soon be able [pg 62] to come here, but sincerely do I believe that, if he has a care for me, it will be better that he keep away, and come not here. Of a truth, as every one bears witness, the love which dwells only in the imagination, fades away.”Thus strangely did she make answer, and not a word more did she utter for my comfort. And he forthwith made answer in this wise: “You are so full of compassion, my Lady, that, whatever you may say, I tell you truly I believe not that you will leave him, who is wholly yours, to perish both in body and soul. You have said that I can turn him from it. Yea, truly, by rending his soul from his body! No other way do I know. Certes, I have made every endeavour to divert him from it, but I tell you, forsooth, that he will die if he is left without hope, and naught will you have profited if his days are cut off through losing you. Worthy Lady, give me your answer, for I care not a whit for the jealous one, and never will his spies make use of such cunning that I shall not altogether deceive them. But, since I perceive you pity him, grant him this favour. I speak thus much of him to you so that you may be willing that he come here with [pg 63] me, and I will apparel him duly and fittingly, and will so much concern me with this, that he shall be recognised of none provided you tell me how you would that he should deport himself in order to see you. So hesitate no longer, for the matter moves too slowly for him.”And she said: “In nowise believe that I am so much his enemy that his grief and his sorrow do not cause me much discomfiture, for you may know of a truth that right well do I love him, and he is right in guarding mine honour, and without delay I shall do all that should content him, but I am not willing to say more now concerning this matter save that he demean himself with prudence, and come not here as yet, butyoumay come ofttimes provided you hold but little discourse with me before this spy. Let me know of your doings by one who is prudent, who shall go to you. This messenger is loyal, I give you my faith, and if you and he trust not one another, I shall be uneasy, for none other dare approach me. And now we have discoursed together long enough, and we know not whether we are being watched. So tell your friend that he may be joyous and happy, and [pg 64] that you have so prevailed with me that, if violence does not intervene, he will not fail in that which he asks for. Thus you will commend me to him, and cheer him, saying that ere a week is gone by he will be able to see much of me. And let us hold counsel together no longer now, and do you trouble yourself no more about the matter. We have indeed been fortunate in that we have not been disturbed whiles that we have so long time discoursed together at our ease. Await, however, my lord, who, as I well know, has not for long time had such pleasure as he will have when he knows of your coming. Meanwhiles, we will play at chess. We may amuse ourselves in this manner for a while.”And then, without more ado, they forthwith commenced to play at a side table. And at the end of the game the master and lord entered the chamber. Then my cousin went towards him, and when the latter met him, he gave him hearty welcome, and said that his coming was very pleasing, and that he was welcome. In a word, without detaining you longer, he treated him with great deference, and said that all that was his was at his command, and that whensoe'er [pg 65] he stayed in those parts, nowhere else must he lodge, but he must come there. This would give him happiness above all things, but otherwise he would be displeased. And the latter gave him much thanks for this. And on the morrow, after meat, he took his leave and departed thence, and he hasted his return, for he knew how I was longing for this and that it would bring me very great delight.And when he was returned, he related unto me all that had happened to him on his journey, and that he believed that my affairs would prosper right well provided it were pursued yonder quickly and with skill, wherefore, as he had made promise to my lady, he would have all things, both great and small, under his ordering, since he had so agreed with her. Thus did he tell and recount all to me.Then much joy had I in my heart, the which had erewhile been in sorrow which harassed it. But in order the sooner to advance my affair, he advised me that in the first place I should write a letter, in the which I should wholly set forth my condition, and how that love of her weighed heavily upon me, and that she should hearken to the plaint of her slave who [pg 66] besought her love and asked naught beside, and that I should put all suchlike things in a sealed letter, and he would be the bearer of it for to assuage my grief. And I trusted in him, and so I wrote a letter in the which I set forth how it fared with me by reason of love of her, and all that grieved me. And I enclosed two ballads with the letter, the which I sealed, to the rehearsal of which give heed all you who incline unto love.
BALLADThou, O Love, the traitor art!Tender once as any may,Then the wielder of the dartThat is pointed but to slay.Thee with reason, by my fay,Double-visaged we declare:One is as the ashes grey,But one is as an angel fair.Loth am I to find my partIn the night without a ray,Yet desire hath stung my heartAnd I sigh in sorrow's sway.[pg 55]Gentle hope will never stayIn the mansions of despair:One to death would point the way,But one is as an angel fair.Hope might in my spirit start,Death thy servant bids her nay:While beneath thy scourge I smart,Doleful still must be my lay,Since to set my steps astray,Thou at once art wheat and tare:One is like a devil, yea,But one is as an angel fair.Love, thou teachest me to sayDouble tribute is to payFor thy servants everywhere:One is grievous, well-a-day!But one is as an angel fair.Much did this ballad charm my cousin, but greatly was he distressed at my grief, and in this manner did I, who never wearied of, or ceased from, weeping, make an end to my discourse. And thereby my distemper was diminished, but my cousin was forthwith angered when he saw me thus discomforted. And he spake thus to me: “Alack-a-day! Right well do I perceive that you possess little discretion and courage. What reason have you, fair Sir, to demean you thus? [pg 56] Certes, you should be happy, methinks, since your lady, by her messenger, makes promise to you of solace at a fitting time. You are foolish when you relinquish the hope which gives you comfort, for be assured that your lady is mindful of your love, and that she longs to give you pleasure. How can such grief enter your foolish thoughts, so as to allow you to be thus cast down and to die of despair? Many a lover, without any hope of being loved by his mistress, has longwhiles served in great anguish without any solace either of soul or body, and not a single glance from her has he received, nor has he dared to approach her for fear of slander. If you have patience, and believe what I say, certes, you have but to make plaint as I have done, and you will soon be able to attain your desire. Since your lady takes pleasure in your doings, you may be assured that no fear will be strong enough to restrain her. But however grievous it may be, it may lead to your undoing that you have allowed so long time to pass by without making her acquainted with your state. Very certain is it that never will she importune you, and I know not wherefore you were so foolish that, when you had opportunity, and were [pg 57] unhindered, you spake not to her of all the love with the which you loved her, instead of giving yourself up longwhiles to dreams!”Then I forthwith made answer, “Alas, Cousin! I dared not, even if I had fitting opportunity, for I was afraid, and so much did I fear her, that I dared not tell her of it, even if I died because of this. For this reason I faltered, and greatly do I repent me of it, but never had I the courage to do it, for in her presence I was greatly disquieted, although when I was alone I thought to myself that I would speak to her. And it ofttimes happened to me thus, but, certes, I persevered not when I was in her presence. The delight of her loving glance, the which was so sweet to me, filled me with such great ecstasy, that it seemed to me that she would perceive my distress of mind without my saying aught.”Then my cousin made answer, “Foolish is the lover who hides from a lady the love he bears her, for, on my soul, the delay may do him sore hurt. But since you dared not speak to her because of the fear which possessed you, as you know well how to write, wherefore do you not send her a letter or missive? And I [pg 58] am still more surprised at your folly that, when you received her messenger, you sent not back word to her of your state since the time when you parted from her. And wherefore did you delay? His coming was indeed timely had not your folly held you back, and in this I without doubt speak the truth, for, since she so desired to give you gratification that she took thought to hear news of your doings, you can perceive that your love was in her thoughts. She must indeed regard you as a novice since you sent not to her! Never a day let fall from your lips a single word in anywise touching upon sadness, but rather be cheerful, and leave all to me, and so well shall I know how to deceive every one, that I am willing to become a monk if there is any one on this earth who will be able to hinder you from seeing the fair one without this ever being noised abroad, if she so wills it, and you desire it. So grieve no more, but make glad countenance, for, without preaching longer to you, I make promise and swear to you that ere the week is passed, more than once shall you see your lady. And if God guides me in this, verily shall I find out the way to accomplish this.”Then, even as the light illumines the darkness, and [pg 59] the exceeding brightness of the sun banishes the gloom, so was the cruel torment of my suffering subdued and ended by this one, who so truly comforted me that he filled me with joy and gladness, and stayed my grief, so that I had naught left of the which to make complaint.And in nowise did he make default, but when that an hour and a half was gone by, he set forth to my lady. To be brief, he spoke prudently to the fair one, and right gladly did he plead on my behalf, and of his own free will he told unto her all the truth concerning my sad trouble, and how that he had found me nigh unto death, and knew not whether I could recover from the sickness the which constrained me not to stir from my bed, and he told her all, and, in a word, that he could not comfort me. Then he counselled her that, for God's sake, she should not suffer one so young to be placed in peril of death by reason of too great love of her, and that she would be to blame if she were the cause of my death.In such manner did he, by his gentle and wise speech, entreat my lady to feel pity for the sickness from the which I was languishing on account of her, since never did I waver in the desire the which [pg 60] brought misery unto me and made me long to see her. And he told me that when he had ended his discourse, he saw that the fair one, who was very silent, was pale as death, and of very sad countenance, and he well perceived from her demeanour that my sickness grieved her, and aroused her compassion, but she ne'ertheless desired it to appear quite otherwise. And she spake in this wise: “This is a strange thing that you tell unto me, fair Sir, that my cousin and yours is in this state. By the Apostle Paul, scarce can I believe that he could ever have thought on this! Good God, that this should have entered his thoughts! But if this be so, doubtless it is naught but youthfulness and great lack of prudence which plunges him into sadness, and, with God's help, in a little while this will pass away. Turn him from this if you can, and counsel him that he put an end to it, and turn his thoughts elsewhere, for never could he come near me without great ill coming of it if that he were seen. I wot not how it came to the knowledge of that spy (God curse him), by reason of whom I have not the courage to speak to any living man, and if he were within, I should not dare to hold converse thus with [pg 61] you. Since he discovered that this young man had the daring to love me, he has filled my lord with bitter anger, and has aroused such jealousy of me, that in nowise do I dare speak to any one alone, and wheresoe'er I am, there the varlet must be, and I have him ever at my heels, for he is set to keep watch on me. And I fear me that all this is only because of suspicion of your cousin, for he pays close attention to that which is said to me, and ofttimes goes to the gate to see who enters here. And by God I swear to you that, if it were not for qualms of conscience, I would have him so well beaten by my kinsfolk that, unless he were very foolhardy, never would he dare return to keep watch on me. And so that this espial, the which is so irksome to me, might come to an end, I sent word to your cousin, and urged him much that for awhile he would refrain from coming hither, so that this spy might not see him, and that when this watchfulness was somewhat abated, he could come to see us, and more he could not look for. It indeed seems to me certain that it will come to an end by degrees, and thus I believe that doubtless my lord will no longer give thought to jealousy, so that he will soon be able [pg 62] to come here, but sincerely do I believe that, if he has a care for me, it will be better that he keep away, and come not here. Of a truth, as every one bears witness, the love which dwells only in the imagination, fades away.”Thus strangely did she make answer, and not a word more did she utter for my comfort. And he forthwith made answer in this wise: “You are so full of compassion, my Lady, that, whatever you may say, I tell you truly I believe not that you will leave him, who is wholly yours, to perish both in body and soul. You have said that I can turn him from it. Yea, truly, by rending his soul from his body! No other way do I know. Certes, I have made every endeavour to divert him from it, but I tell you, forsooth, that he will die if he is left without hope, and naught will you have profited if his days are cut off through losing you. Worthy Lady, give me your answer, for I care not a whit for the jealous one, and never will his spies make use of such cunning that I shall not altogether deceive them. But, since I perceive you pity him, grant him this favour. I speak thus much of him to you so that you may be willing that he come here with [pg 63] me, and I will apparel him duly and fittingly, and will so much concern me with this, that he shall be recognised of none provided you tell me how you would that he should deport himself in order to see you. So hesitate no longer, for the matter moves too slowly for him.”And she said: “In nowise believe that I am so much his enemy that his grief and his sorrow do not cause me much discomfiture, for you may know of a truth that right well do I love him, and he is right in guarding mine honour, and without delay I shall do all that should content him, but I am not willing to say more now concerning this matter save that he demean himself with prudence, and come not here as yet, butyoumay come ofttimes provided you hold but little discourse with me before this spy. Let me know of your doings by one who is prudent, who shall go to you. This messenger is loyal, I give you my faith, and if you and he trust not one another, I shall be uneasy, for none other dare approach me. And now we have discoursed together long enough, and we know not whether we are being watched. So tell your friend that he may be joyous and happy, and [pg 64] that you have so prevailed with me that, if violence does not intervene, he will not fail in that which he asks for. Thus you will commend me to him, and cheer him, saying that ere a week is gone by he will be able to see much of me. And let us hold counsel together no longer now, and do you trouble yourself no more about the matter. We have indeed been fortunate in that we have not been disturbed whiles that we have so long time discoursed together at our ease. Await, however, my lord, who, as I well know, has not for long time had such pleasure as he will have when he knows of your coming. Meanwhiles, we will play at chess. We may amuse ourselves in this manner for a while.”And then, without more ado, they forthwith commenced to play at a side table. And at the end of the game the master and lord entered the chamber. Then my cousin went towards him, and when the latter met him, he gave him hearty welcome, and said that his coming was very pleasing, and that he was welcome. In a word, without detaining you longer, he treated him with great deference, and said that all that was his was at his command, and that whensoe'er [pg 65] he stayed in those parts, nowhere else must he lodge, but he must come there. This would give him happiness above all things, but otherwise he would be displeased. And the latter gave him much thanks for this. And on the morrow, after meat, he took his leave and departed thence, and he hasted his return, for he knew how I was longing for this and that it would bring me very great delight.And when he was returned, he related unto me all that had happened to him on his journey, and that he believed that my affairs would prosper right well provided it were pursued yonder quickly and with skill, wherefore, as he had made promise to my lady, he would have all things, both great and small, under his ordering, since he had so agreed with her. Thus did he tell and recount all to me.Then much joy had I in my heart, the which had erewhile been in sorrow which harassed it. But in order the sooner to advance my affair, he advised me that in the first place I should write a letter, in the which I should wholly set forth my condition, and how that love of her weighed heavily upon me, and that she should hearken to the plaint of her slave who [pg 66] besought her love and asked naught beside, and that I should put all suchlike things in a sealed letter, and he would be the bearer of it for to assuage my grief. And I trusted in him, and so I wrote a letter in the which I set forth how it fared with me by reason of love of her, and all that grieved me. And I enclosed two ballads with the letter, the which I sealed, to the rehearsal of which give heed all you who incline unto love.
Thou, O Love, the traitor art!Tender once as any may,Then the wielder of the dartThat is pointed but to slay.Thee with reason, by my fay,Double-visaged we declare:One is as the ashes grey,But one is as an angel fair.Loth am I to find my partIn the night without a ray,Yet desire hath stung my heartAnd I sigh in sorrow's sway.[pg 55]Gentle hope will never stayIn the mansions of despair:One to death would point the way,But one is as an angel fair.Hope might in my spirit start,Death thy servant bids her nay:While beneath thy scourge I smart,Doleful still must be my lay,Since to set my steps astray,Thou at once art wheat and tare:One is like a devil, yea,But one is as an angel fair.Love, thou teachest me to sayDouble tribute is to payFor thy servants everywhere:One is grievous, well-a-day!But one is as an angel fair.
Thou, O Love, the traitor art!Tender once as any may,Then the wielder of the dartThat is pointed but to slay.Thee with reason, by my fay,Double-visaged we declare:One is as the ashes grey,But one is as an angel fair.Loth am I to find my partIn the night without a ray,Yet desire hath stung my heartAnd I sigh in sorrow's sway.[pg 55]Gentle hope will never stayIn the mansions of despair:One to death would point the way,But one is as an angel fair.Hope might in my spirit start,Death thy servant bids her nay:While beneath thy scourge I smart,Doleful still must be my lay,Since to set my steps astray,Thou at once art wheat and tare:One is like a devil, yea,But one is as an angel fair.Love, thou teachest me to sayDouble tribute is to payFor thy servants everywhere:One is grievous, well-a-day!But one is as an angel fair.
Thou, O Love, the traitor art!
Tender once as any may,
Then the wielder of the dart
That is pointed but to slay.
Thee with reason, by my fay,
Double-visaged we declare:
One is as the ashes grey,
But one is as an angel fair.
Loth am I to find my part
In the night without a ray,
Yet desire hath stung my heart
And I sigh in sorrow's sway.
[pg 55]
Gentle hope will never stay
In the mansions of despair:
One to death would point the way,
But one is as an angel fair.
Hope might in my spirit start,
Death thy servant bids her nay:
While beneath thy scourge I smart,
Doleful still must be my lay,
Since to set my steps astray,
Thou at once art wheat and tare:
One is like a devil, yea,
But one is as an angel fair.
Love, thou teachest me to say
Double tribute is to pay
For thy servants everywhere:
One is grievous, well-a-day!
But one is as an angel fair.
Much did this ballad charm my cousin, but greatly was he distressed at my grief, and in this manner did I, who never wearied of, or ceased from, weeping, make an end to my discourse. And thereby my distemper was diminished, but my cousin was forthwith angered when he saw me thus discomforted. And he spake thus to me: “Alack-a-day! Right well do I perceive that you possess little discretion and courage. What reason have you, fair Sir, to demean you thus? [pg 56] Certes, you should be happy, methinks, since your lady, by her messenger, makes promise to you of solace at a fitting time. You are foolish when you relinquish the hope which gives you comfort, for be assured that your lady is mindful of your love, and that she longs to give you pleasure. How can such grief enter your foolish thoughts, so as to allow you to be thus cast down and to die of despair? Many a lover, without any hope of being loved by his mistress, has longwhiles served in great anguish without any solace either of soul or body, and not a single glance from her has he received, nor has he dared to approach her for fear of slander. If you have patience, and believe what I say, certes, you have but to make plaint as I have done, and you will soon be able to attain your desire. Since your lady takes pleasure in your doings, you may be assured that no fear will be strong enough to restrain her. But however grievous it may be, it may lead to your undoing that you have allowed so long time to pass by without making her acquainted with your state. Very certain is it that never will she importune you, and I know not wherefore you were so foolish that, when you had opportunity, and were [pg 57] unhindered, you spake not to her of all the love with the which you loved her, instead of giving yourself up longwhiles to dreams!”
Then I forthwith made answer, “Alas, Cousin! I dared not, even if I had fitting opportunity, for I was afraid, and so much did I fear her, that I dared not tell her of it, even if I died because of this. For this reason I faltered, and greatly do I repent me of it, but never had I the courage to do it, for in her presence I was greatly disquieted, although when I was alone I thought to myself that I would speak to her. And it ofttimes happened to me thus, but, certes, I persevered not when I was in her presence. The delight of her loving glance, the which was so sweet to me, filled me with such great ecstasy, that it seemed to me that she would perceive my distress of mind without my saying aught.”
Then my cousin made answer, “Foolish is the lover who hides from a lady the love he bears her, for, on my soul, the delay may do him sore hurt. But since you dared not speak to her because of the fear which possessed you, as you know well how to write, wherefore do you not send her a letter or missive? And I [pg 58] am still more surprised at your folly that, when you received her messenger, you sent not back word to her of your state since the time when you parted from her. And wherefore did you delay? His coming was indeed timely had not your folly held you back, and in this I without doubt speak the truth, for, since she so desired to give you gratification that she took thought to hear news of your doings, you can perceive that your love was in her thoughts. She must indeed regard you as a novice since you sent not to her! Never a day let fall from your lips a single word in anywise touching upon sadness, but rather be cheerful, and leave all to me, and so well shall I know how to deceive every one, that I am willing to become a monk if there is any one on this earth who will be able to hinder you from seeing the fair one without this ever being noised abroad, if she so wills it, and you desire it. So grieve no more, but make glad countenance, for, without preaching longer to you, I make promise and swear to you that ere the week is passed, more than once shall you see your lady. And if God guides me in this, verily shall I find out the way to accomplish this.”
Then, even as the light illumines the darkness, and [pg 59] the exceeding brightness of the sun banishes the gloom, so was the cruel torment of my suffering subdued and ended by this one, who so truly comforted me that he filled me with joy and gladness, and stayed my grief, so that I had naught left of the which to make complaint.
And in nowise did he make default, but when that an hour and a half was gone by, he set forth to my lady. To be brief, he spoke prudently to the fair one, and right gladly did he plead on my behalf, and of his own free will he told unto her all the truth concerning my sad trouble, and how that he had found me nigh unto death, and knew not whether I could recover from the sickness the which constrained me not to stir from my bed, and he told her all, and, in a word, that he could not comfort me. Then he counselled her that, for God's sake, she should not suffer one so young to be placed in peril of death by reason of too great love of her, and that she would be to blame if she were the cause of my death.
In such manner did he, by his gentle and wise speech, entreat my lady to feel pity for the sickness from the which I was languishing on account of her, since never did I waver in the desire the which [pg 60] brought misery unto me and made me long to see her. And he told me that when he had ended his discourse, he saw that the fair one, who was very silent, was pale as death, and of very sad countenance, and he well perceived from her demeanour that my sickness grieved her, and aroused her compassion, but she ne'ertheless desired it to appear quite otherwise. And she spake in this wise: “This is a strange thing that you tell unto me, fair Sir, that my cousin and yours is in this state. By the Apostle Paul, scarce can I believe that he could ever have thought on this! Good God, that this should have entered his thoughts! But if this be so, doubtless it is naught but youthfulness and great lack of prudence which plunges him into sadness, and, with God's help, in a little while this will pass away. Turn him from this if you can, and counsel him that he put an end to it, and turn his thoughts elsewhere, for never could he come near me without great ill coming of it if that he were seen. I wot not how it came to the knowledge of that spy (God curse him), by reason of whom I have not the courage to speak to any living man, and if he were within, I should not dare to hold converse thus with [pg 61] you. Since he discovered that this young man had the daring to love me, he has filled my lord with bitter anger, and has aroused such jealousy of me, that in nowise do I dare speak to any one alone, and wheresoe'er I am, there the varlet must be, and I have him ever at my heels, for he is set to keep watch on me. And I fear me that all this is only because of suspicion of your cousin, for he pays close attention to that which is said to me, and ofttimes goes to the gate to see who enters here. And by God I swear to you that, if it were not for qualms of conscience, I would have him so well beaten by my kinsfolk that, unless he were very foolhardy, never would he dare return to keep watch on me. And so that this espial, the which is so irksome to me, might come to an end, I sent word to your cousin, and urged him much that for awhile he would refrain from coming hither, so that this spy might not see him, and that when this watchfulness was somewhat abated, he could come to see us, and more he could not look for. It indeed seems to me certain that it will come to an end by degrees, and thus I believe that doubtless my lord will no longer give thought to jealousy, so that he will soon be able [pg 62] to come here, but sincerely do I believe that, if he has a care for me, it will be better that he keep away, and come not here. Of a truth, as every one bears witness, the love which dwells only in the imagination, fades away.”
Thus strangely did she make answer, and not a word more did she utter for my comfort. And he forthwith made answer in this wise: “You are so full of compassion, my Lady, that, whatever you may say, I tell you truly I believe not that you will leave him, who is wholly yours, to perish both in body and soul. You have said that I can turn him from it. Yea, truly, by rending his soul from his body! No other way do I know. Certes, I have made every endeavour to divert him from it, but I tell you, forsooth, that he will die if he is left without hope, and naught will you have profited if his days are cut off through losing you. Worthy Lady, give me your answer, for I care not a whit for the jealous one, and never will his spies make use of such cunning that I shall not altogether deceive them. But, since I perceive you pity him, grant him this favour. I speak thus much of him to you so that you may be willing that he come here with [pg 63] me, and I will apparel him duly and fittingly, and will so much concern me with this, that he shall be recognised of none provided you tell me how you would that he should deport himself in order to see you. So hesitate no longer, for the matter moves too slowly for him.”
And she said: “In nowise believe that I am so much his enemy that his grief and his sorrow do not cause me much discomfiture, for you may know of a truth that right well do I love him, and he is right in guarding mine honour, and without delay I shall do all that should content him, but I am not willing to say more now concerning this matter save that he demean himself with prudence, and come not here as yet, butyoumay come ofttimes provided you hold but little discourse with me before this spy. Let me know of your doings by one who is prudent, who shall go to you. This messenger is loyal, I give you my faith, and if you and he trust not one another, I shall be uneasy, for none other dare approach me. And now we have discoursed together long enough, and we know not whether we are being watched. So tell your friend that he may be joyous and happy, and [pg 64] that you have so prevailed with me that, if violence does not intervene, he will not fail in that which he asks for. Thus you will commend me to him, and cheer him, saying that ere a week is gone by he will be able to see much of me. And let us hold counsel together no longer now, and do you trouble yourself no more about the matter. We have indeed been fortunate in that we have not been disturbed whiles that we have so long time discoursed together at our ease. Await, however, my lord, who, as I well know, has not for long time had such pleasure as he will have when he knows of your coming. Meanwhiles, we will play at chess. We may amuse ourselves in this manner for a while.”
And then, without more ado, they forthwith commenced to play at a side table. And at the end of the game the master and lord entered the chamber. Then my cousin went towards him, and when the latter met him, he gave him hearty welcome, and said that his coming was very pleasing, and that he was welcome. In a word, without detaining you longer, he treated him with great deference, and said that all that was his was at his command, and that whensoe'er [pg 65] he stayed in those parts, nowhere else must he lodge, but he must come there. This would give him happiness above all things, but otherwise he would be displeased. And the latter gave him much thanks for this. And on the morrow, after meat, he took his leave and departed thence, and he hasted his return, for he knew how I was longing for this and that it would bring me very great delight.
And when he was returned, he related unto me all that had happened to him on his journey, and that he believed that my affairs would prosper right well provided it were pursued yonder quickly and with skill, wherefore, as he had made promise to my lady, he would have all things, both great and small, under his ordering, since he had so agreed with her. Thus did he tell and recount all to me.
Then much joy had I in my heart, the which had erewhile been in sorrow which harassed it. But in order the sooner to advance my affair, he advised me that in the first place I should write a letter, in the which I should wholly set forth my condition, and how that love of her weighed heavily upon me, and that she should hearken to the plaint of her slave who [pg 66] besought her love and asked naught beside, and that I should put all suchlike things in a sealed letter, and he would be the bearer of it for to assuage my grief. And I trusted in him, and so I wrote a letter in the which I set forth how it fared with me by reason of love of her, and all that grieved me. And I enclosed two ballads with the letter, the which I sealed, to the rehearsal of which give heed all you who incline unto love.