I. REPRINTED MATTER (part 1 of 2)

I. REPRINTED MATTER (part 1 of 2)

1. Caunterburie Tales. (The Prologue begins on a page with the signature A 2, the first quire of six leaves not being numbered; the Knightes Tale begins on a page with the signature B ii., and marked Fol. i. The spurious Plowman's Tale precedes the Parson's Tale.)

2. The Romaunt of the Rose[213]. Fol. cxvi.

3. Troilus and Creseide. Fol. cli., back.

4. The testament of Creseide. [By Robert Henryson.] Fol. cxciiii. Followed by its continuation, called The Complaint of Creseide; by the same.

5. The Legende of Good Women. Fol. cxcvij.

6. A goodlie balade of Chaucer; beginning--'Mother of norture, best beloued of all.' Fol. ccx.

7. Boecius de Consolatione Philosophie. Fol. ccx., back.

8. The dreame of Chaucer. [The Book of the Duchesse.] Fol. ccxliiij.

9. Begins--'My master. &c. Whe_n_ of Christ our kyng.' [Lenvoy to Buckton.] Fol. ccxliiii[214].

10. The assemble of Foules. [Parlement of Foules.] Fol. ccxliiii., back.

11. The Floure of Curtesie, made by Ihon lidgate. Fol. ccxlviij. Followed by a Balade, which forms part of it.

12. How pyte is deed, etc. [Complaint unto Pite.] Fol. ccxlix., back.

13. La belle Dame sans Mercy. [By Sir R. Ros.] Fol. ccl.

14. Of Quene Annelida and false Arcite. Fol. cclv.

15. The assemble of ladies. Fol. ccxlvij.

16. The conclucions of the Astrolabie. Fol. cclxi.

17. The complaint of the blacke Knight. [By Lydgate; see p. 35, note 3.] Fol. cclxx.

18. A praise of Women. Begins--'Al tho the lyste of women euill to speke.' Fol. cclxxiii.[215], back.

19. The House of Fame. Fol. cclxxiiij., back.

20. The Testament of Loue (in prose). Fol. cclxxxiiij., back.

21. The lamentacion of Marie Magdaleine. Fol. cccxviij.

22. The remedie of Loue. Fol. cccxxj., back.

23, 24. The complaint of Mars and Venus. Fol. cccxxiiij., back. (Printed as one poem; but there is a new title--The complaint of Venus--at the beginning of the latter.)

25. The letter of Cupide. [By Hoccleve; dated 1402.] Fol. cccxxvj., back.

26. A Ballade in commendacion of our Ladie. Fol. cccxxix. [By Lydgate; see p. 38.]

27. Ihon Gower vnto the noble King Henry the .iiij. Fol. cccxxx., back. [By Gower.]

28. A saiyng of dan Ihon. [By Lydgate.] Fol. cccxxxii., back[216].

29. Yet of the same. [By Lydgate.] On the same page.

30. Balade de bon consail. Begins--If it be fall that God the list visite. (Only 7 lines.) On the same page.

31. Of the Cuckowe and the Nightingale. Fol. cccxxxiij. [By Hoccleve?]

32. Balade with Envoy (no title). Begins--'O leude booke w_i_t_h_ thy foule rudenesse.' Fol. cccxxxiiij., back.

33. Scogan, vnto the Lordes and Gentilmen of the Kinges house. (This poem, by H. Scogan, quotes Chaucer's 'Gentilesse' in full.) Fol. cccxxxiiij., back.

34. Begins--'Somtyme the worlde so stedfast was and stable.' [Lak of Stedfastnesse.] Fol. cccxxxv., back.

35. Good counsail of Chaucer. [Truth.] Same page.

36. Balade of the village (sic) without paintyng. [Fortune.] Fol. cccxxxvj.

37. Begins--'Tobroken been the statutes hie in heauen'; headed Lenuoye. [Lenvoy to Scogan.] Fol. cccxxxvj., back.

38. Poem in two stanzas of seven lines each. Begins--'Go foorthe kyng, rule thee by Sapience.' Same page.

39. Chaucer to his emptie purse. Same page.

40. A balade of good counseile translated out of Latin verses in-to Englishe, by Dan Ihon lidgat cleped the monke of Buri. Begins--'COnsyder well euery circumstaunce.' Fol. cccxxxvij.

41. A balade in the Praise and commendacion of master Geffray Chauser for his golden eloquence. (Only 7 lines.) Same leaf, back. [See p. 56.]

§ 9. PART II. ADDITIONS BY JOHN STOWE.

At the top of fol. cccxl. is the following remark:--

¶ Here foloweth certaine woorkes of Geffray Chauser, whiche hath not heretofore been printed, and are gathered and added to this booke by Ihon Stowe.

42. A balade made by Chaucer, teching what is gentilnes[217]. [Gentilesse.] Fol. cccxl.

43. A Prouerbe [read Prouerbs] agaynst couitise and negligence. [Proverbs.] Same page.

44. A balade which Chaucer made agaynst women vnconstaunt. Same page. [Certainly genuine, in my opinion; but here relegated to an Appendix, to appease such as cannot readily apprehend my reasons. Cf. p. 26.]

45. A balade which Chaucer made in the praise or rather dispraise, of women for their doublenes. [By Lydgate.] Begins--'This world is full of variaunce.' Same page.

46. This werke folowinge was compiled by Chaucer, and is caled the craft of louers. Fol. cccxli. [Written in 1448.]

47. A Balade. Begins--'Of their nature they greatly the_m_ delite.' Fol. cccxli., back. [Quotes from no. 56.]

48. The .x. Commaundementes of Loue. Fol. cccxlij.

49. The .ix. Ladies worthie. Fol. cccxlij., back.

50. [Virelai; no title.] Begins--'Alone walkyng.' Fol. cccxliij.

51. A Ballade. Begins--'In the season of Feuerere when it was full colde.' Same page.

52. A Ballade. Begins--'O Mercifull and o merciable.' Fol. cccxliij., back. [Made up of scraps from late poems; see p. 57.]

53. Here foloweth how Mercurie with Pallas, Venus and Minarua, appered to Paris of Troie, he slepyng by a fountain. Fol. cccxliiij.

54. A balade pleasaunte. Begins--'I haue a Ladie where so she bee.' Same page. At the end--'Explicit the discriuyng of a faire Ladie.'

55. An other Balade. Begins--'O Mossie Quince, hangyng by your stalke.' Fol. cccxliiij., back.

56. A balade, warnyng men to beware of deceitptfnll women (sic). Begins--'LOke well aboute ye that louers bee.' Same page. [By Lydgate.]

57. These verses next folowing were compiled by Geffray Chauser, and in the writen copies foloweth at the ende of the complainte of petee. Begins--'THe long nyghtes when euery [c]reature.' [This is the 'Compleint to his Lady,' as I venture to call it.] Fol. cccxlv[218].

58. A balade declaring that wemens chastite Doeth moche excel all treasure worldly. Begins--'IN womanhede as auctours al write.' Back of same leaf.

59. The Court of Loue. Begins--'WIth temerous herte, and tre_m_bling hand of drede.' Fol. cccxlviij.

60. Chaucers woordes vnto his owne Scriuener[219]. Fol. ccclv., back. At the end--Thus endeth the workes of Geffray Chaucer. (This is followed by 34 Latin verses, entitled Epitaphium Galfridi Chaucer, &c.)

61. The Storie of Thebes. [By Lydgate.] Fol. ccclvj.

§ 10. DISCUSSION OF THE POEMS IN PART I. OF ED. 1561.

Of the 41 pieces in Part I. of the above, we must of course accept as Chaucer's the four poems entitled Canterbury Tales, Troilus, Legend of Good Women, and House of Fame; also the prose translation of Boethius, and the prose treatise on the Astrolabie. The remaining number of Minor Poems (excluding the Romaunt of the Rose) is 34; out of which number I accept the 13 numbered above with the numbers 8, 9, 10, 12, 14, 23, 24, 33 (so far as it quotes Chaucer), 34, 35, 36, 37, and 39. Every one of these has already been shewn to be genuine on sufficient external evidence, and it is not likely that their genuineness will be doubted. In the present volume they appear, respectively, as nos. III, XVII, V, II, VII, IV, XVIII, XIV, XV, XIII, X, XVI, XIX. Of the remaining 21, several may be dismissed in a few words. No. 4 is well known to have been written by Robert Henryson. Nos. 11, 28, 29, and 40 are distinctly claimed for Lydgate in all the editions; and no. 27 is similarly claimed for Gower. No. 25 was written by Hoccleve[220]; and the last line gives the date--'A thousande, foure hundred and seconde,' i. e. 1402, or two years after Chaucer's death. No. 13 is translated from Alain Chartier, who was only four years old when Chaucer died; see p. 28, note 2. Tyrwhitt remarks that, in MS. Harl. 372, this poem is expressly attributed to a Sir Richard Ros[221]. No one can suppose that no. 41 is by Chaucer, seeing that the first line is--'Maister Geffray Chauser, that now lithe in graue.' Mr. Bradshaw once assured me that no. 17 is ascribed, on MS. authority, to Lydgate; and no one who reads it with care can doubt that this is correct[222]. It is, in a measure, an imitation of the Book of the Duchesse; and it contains some interesting references to Chaucer, as in the lines--'Of Arcite, or of him Palemoun,' and 'Of Thebes eke the false Arcite.' No. 20, i. e. the Testament of Love, is in prose, and does not here concern us; still it is worth pointing out that it contains a passage (near the end) such as we cannot suppose that Chaucer would have written concerning himself[223].

After thus removing from consideration nos. 4, 11, 13, 17, 20, 25, 27, 28, 29, 40, and 41, half of the remaining 21 pieces have been considered. The only ones left over for consideration are nos. 6, 15, 18, 21, 22, 26, 30, 31, 32, 38. As to no. 6, there is some external evidence in its favour, which will be duly considered; but as to the rest, there is absolutely nothing to connect them with Chaucer beyond their almost accidental appearance in an edition by Wm. Thynne, published in 1532, i. e. one hundred and thirty-two years after Chaucer's death; and it has just been demonstrated that Thynne is obviously wrong in at least eleven instances, and that he wittingly and purposely chose to throw into his edition poems which he knew to have been written by Lydgate or by Gower! It is ridiculous to attach much importance to such testimony as this. And now let me discuss, as briefly as I can, the above-named poems separately.

6. A goodlie balade of Chaucer; begins--'Mother of norture, best beloued of all'; printed in Morris's edition, vi. 275; and in Bell's edition, iii. 413. I have little to say against this poem; yet the rime of supposeth with riseth (st. 8) is somewhat startling. It is clearly addressed to a lady named Margaret[224], as appears from her being likened to the daisy, and called the sun's daughter. I suspect it was merely attributed to Chaucer by association with the opening lines of the Legend of Good Women. The suggestion, in Bell's Chaucer, that it possibly refers to the Countess of Pembroke, is one of those bad guesses which are discreditable. Tyrwhitt shews, in note n to his 'Appendix to the Preface,' that she must have died not later than 1370, whereas this Balade must be much later than that date; and I agree with him in supposing that le Dit de la fleur de lis et de la Marguerite, by Guillaume de Machault (printed in Tarbé's edition, 1849, p. 123), and the Dittié de la flour de la Margherite, by Froissart, may furnish us with the true key to those mystical compliments which Chaucer and others were accustomed to pay to the daisy.

I wish to add that I am convinced that one stanza, probably the sixth is missing. It ought to form a triple Balade, i. e. three Balades of 21 lines each, each with its own refrain; but the second is imperfect. There seems to be some affectation about the letters beginning the stanzas which I cannot solve; these are M, M, M (probably for Margaret) in the first Balade; D, D in the second; and J, C, Q in the third. The poet goes out of his way to bring in these letters. The result looks like Margaret de Jacques; but this guess does not help us.

The poem is rather artificial, especially in such inversions as It receyve, Cauteles whoso useth, and Quaketh my penne; these things are not in Chaucer's manner. In the second stanza there is a faulty rime; for we there find shal, smal, answering to the dissyllabic rimes alle, calle, appalle, befalle, in stanzas 1 and 3. Lydgate has: 'My pen quake,' &c.; Troy Book, ch. x., fol. F2, back.

15. The assemble of Ladies. This poem Tyrwhitt decisively rejects. There is absolutely nothing to connect it with Chaucer. It purports to have been written by 'a gentlewoman'; and perhaps it was. It ends with the rime of done, pp., with sone (soon); which in Chaucer are spelt doon and son-e respectively, and never rime. Most of the later editions omit this poem. It is conveniently printed in Chalmers' English Poets, vol. i. p. 526; and consists of 108 7-line stanzas. For further remarks, see notes on The Flower and the Leaf (p. 44).

At p. 203 of the Ryme-Index to Chaucer's Minor Poems (Chaucer Society), I have printed a Ryme-Index to this poem, shewing that the number of non-Chaucerian rimes in it is about 60.

18. A praise of Women. In no way connected with Chaucer. Rejected by Tyrwhitt. Printed in Bell's edition, iv. 416, and in Chalmers' English Poets, vol. i. p. 344; also in Morris's Aldine edition, vol. vi. p. 278. In twenty-five 7-line stanzas. The rime of lie (to tell a lie) with sie (I saw), in st. 20, is suspicious; Chaucer has ly-e, sy. The rime of queen-e (usually dissyllabic in Chaucer) with beene (miswritten for been, they be, st. 23) is also suspicious. It contains the adjective sere, i. e. various (st. 11), which Chaucer never uses.

21. The lamentacion of Marie Magdaleine. Printed in Bell's Chaucer, iv. 395; and in Chalmers, i. 532. Tyrwhitt's remarks are admirable. He says, in his Glossary, s. v. Origenes:--'In the list of Chaucer's Works, in Legend of Good Women, l. 427, he says of himself:--

"He made also, gon is a grete while, Origenes upon the Maudeleine"--

meaning, I suppose, a translation, into prose or verse, of the Homily de Maria Magdalena, which has been commonly, though falsely, attributed to Origen; v. Opp. Origenis, T. ii. p. 291, ed. Paris, 1604. I cannot believe that the poem entitled The Lamentation of Marie Magdaleine, which is in all the [older] editions of Chaucer, is really that work of his. It can hardly be considered as a translation, or even as an imitation, of the Homily; and the composition, in every respect, is infinitely meaner than the worst of his genuine pieces.' To those who are interested in Chaucer's rimes I will merely point out the following: die, why (Ch. dy-e, why); kene, iyen (Ch. ken-e, y-ën); disguised, to-rived, a mere assonance; crie, incessauntly (Ch. cry-ë, incessauntly); slaine, paine (Ch. slein, pein-e); y-fet, let (Ch. y-fet, let-te); accept, bewept (Ch. accept-e, bewept); die, mihi (Ch. dy-e, mihi). To those interested in Chaucer's language, let me point out 'dogges rabiate'--'embesile his presence'--'my woful herte is inflamed so huge'--'my soveraine and very gentilman.' See st. 34, 39, 54, 99.

22. The remedie of Loue. Printed in Chalmers' British Poets, i. 539. In sixty-two 7-line stanzas. Rejected by Tyrwhitt. The language is extremely late; it seems to have been written in the 16th century. It contains such words as incongruitie, deduction, allective, can't (for cannot), scribable (fit for writing on), olibane, pant, babé (baby), cokold (which Chaucer spells cokewold), ortographie, ethimologie, ethimologise (verb). The provincial word lait, to search for, is well known to belong to the Northern dialect. Dr. Murray, s. v. allective, dates this piece about A.D. 1560; but it must be somewhat earlier than this, as it was printed in 1532. I should date it about 1530.

26. A Ballade in commendacion of our Ladie. Tyrwhitt remarks that 'a poem with the same beginning is ascribed to Lydgate, under the title of Invocation to our Lady; see Tanner, s. v. Lydgate.' The poem consists of thirty-five 7-line stanzas. It has all the marks of Lydgate's style, and imitates Chaucer's language. Thus the line--'I have none English conuenient and digne' is an echo of the Man of Law's Tale, l. 778--'O Donegild, I ne haue noon English digne.' Some of the lines imitate Chaucer's A. B. C. But the most remarkable thing is his quotation of the first line of Chaucer's Merciless Beauty, which he applies to the Virgin Mary! See note to that poem, l. 1.

A poem called an 'Invocation to our Lady' is ascribed to Lydgate in MS. Ashmole 59, fol. 39, back. It agrees with the present Ballade; which settles the question.

30. Balade de bon consail. Not in previous editions. Printed in Chalmers, i. 552. Only 7 lines, and here they are, duly edited:--

'If it befall that God thee list visite With any tourment or adversitee, Thank first the Lord, and [fond] thy-self to quite; Upon suffraunce and humilitee Found thou thy quarel, what ever that it be; Mak thy defence, and thou shalt have no losse, The remembraunce of Christ and of his crosse.'

In l. 1, ed. 1561 has the; 2. aduersite; 3. Thanke; lorde; I supply fond, i. e. endeavour; thy-selfe; 4. (scans ill); 5. Founde; 6. Make.

31. Of the Cuckowe and the Nightingale. Printed in Bell's Chaucer, iv. 334; and in Morris's Chaucer, iv. 75. Not uncommon in MSS.; there is a copy in MS. Ff. 1. 6 in the Cambridge University Library; another in MS. Fairfax 16; another in MS. Bodley 638; another in MS. Tanner 346; and a fifth (imperfect) in MS. Arch. Selden B. 24, in the Bodleian Library. A sixth is in MS. Harl. 7333, in the British Museum. From some of these, Morris's better text was constructed; see his edition, pref. p. ix.

It is worth a note, by the way, that it is not the same poem as one entitled The Nightingale, extant in MS. no. 203 in Corpus Christi College, Oxford, and in MS. Cotton, Calig. A. ii., fol. 59, and attributed to Lydgate.

That the first two lines are by Chaucer, we cannot doubt, for they are quoted from the Knightes Tale, ll. 927, 928. Chaucer often quotes his own lines, but it is not likely that he would take them as the subject of a new poem. On the other hand, this is just what we should expect one of his imitators to do. The present poem is a very fair imitation of Chaucer's style, and follows his peculiarities of metre far more closely than is usually the case with Lydgate. The notion, near the end, of holding a parliament of birds, with the Eagle for lord, is evidently borrowed from Chaucer's Parliament of Foules. Whilst admitting that the present poem is more worthy of Chaucer than most of the others with which it has been proposed to burden his reputation, I can see no sufficient reason for connecting him with it; and the external evidence connects it, in fact, with Hoccleve. For the copy in MS. Bodley 638 calls it 'The boke of Cupide god of loue,' at fol. 11, back; whilst Hoccleve's Letter of Cupid is called 'The lettre of Cupide god of loue' in the same, fol. 38, back. The copy in the Fairfax MS. ends with the colophon--Explicit liber Cupidinis. The rimes are mostly Chaucerian; but the rime of day with the gerund to assay-e in st. 11 is suspicious; so also is that of now with the gerund to rescow-e in st. 46. In st. 13, grene rimes with been, whereas gren-e, in Chaucer, is always dissyllabic. Chaucer's biographers have been anxious to father this poem upon him, merely because it mentions Woodstock in l. 285.

One point about this poem is its very peculiar metre; the 5-line stanza, riming a a b b a, is certainly rare. If the question arises, whence is it copied, the answer is clear, viz. from Chaucer's Envoy to his Compleint to his Purse. This is a further reason for dating it later than 1399.

32. Balade with envoy; 'O leude book,' &c. Printed in Bell's Chaucer, iv. 347, and in Morris's Chaucer, iv. 85, as if it were part of The Cuckoo and the Nightingale; but obviously unconnected with it. A Balade in the usual form, viz. three 7-line stanzas, with a refrain; the refrain is--'For of all good she is the best living.' The envoy consists of only six lines, instead of seven, rimed a b a b c c, and that for a sufficient reason, which has not been hitherto observed. The initial letters of the lines form, in fact, an anagram on the name ALISON; which is therefore the name of the lady to whom the Balade is addressed. There is a copy of this poem in MS. Fairfax 16, and another in MS. Tanner 346. It is therefore as old as the 15th century. But to attribute to Chaucer the fourth line of the Envoy seems hazardous. It runs thus--'Suspiries whiche I effunde in silence.' Perhaps it is Hoccleve's.

38. Poem in two 7-line stanzas. There is nothing to connect this with Chaucer; and it is utterly unworthy of him. I now quote the whole poem, just as it stands in the edition of 1561:--

'Go foorthe king, rule thee by Sapience, Bishoppe, be able to minister doctrine, Lorde, to true counsale yeue audience, Womanhode, to chastitie euer encline; Knight, let thy deedes worship determine; Be righteous, Iudge, in sauyng thy name; Rich, do almose, lest thou lese blisse w_i_t_h_ shame.

'People, obeie your kyng and the lawe; Age, be ruled by good religion; True seruaunt, be dredfull & kepe the vnder awe; And, thou poore, fie on presumpcion; Inobedience to youth is vtter destruccion; Remembre you, how God hath set you, lo! And doe your parte, as ye be ordained to.'

In l. 7, ed. 1532 has almesse instead of almose. Surely it must be Lydgate's. Many of his poems exhibit similar catalogues, if I may so term them.

I have now gone through all the poems published in 1532 and copied into the later editions (with the exception of nos. 66-68, for which see p. 45); and I see no way of augmenting the list of Chaucer's Minor Poems any further from this source.

§ 11. DISCUSSION OF THE POEMS IN PART II. OF ED. 1561.

It is hardly worth while to discuss at length all the poems which it pleased John Stowe to fling together into the edition of 1561. But a few remarks may be useful.

Nos. 42, 43, and 60 are admittedly genuine; and are printed below, nos. XIV., XX., and VIII. I believe nos. 44 and 57 to be so also[225]; they are discussed below, and are printed as nos. XXI. and VI. No. 61 is, of course, Lydgate's. Besides this, no. 45 is correctly ascribed to Lydgate in the MSS.; there are copies of it in MS. Fairfax 16 and in MS. Ashmole 59. No. 56 is also Lydgate's, and is so marked in MS. Harl. 2251. As to no. 46, called the Craft of Lovers, it is dated by help of two lines in the last stanza, which are thus printed by Stowe:--

'In the yere of our lorde a .M. by rekeninge CCCXL. .&. UIII. yere folowing.'

This seems to give the date as 1348; whereas the language is palpably that of the fifteenth century. Whether Stowe or his printer thought fit to alter the date intentionally, I cannot say. Still, the fact is, that in the MS. marked R. 3. 19 in Trinity College Library, at fol. 156, the reading is 'CCCCXL & VIII yere,' so that the true date is rather 1448, or nearly half a century after Chaucer's death[226]. The same MS., which I suppose belonged to Stowe, contains several other of these pieces, viz. nos. 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54, 55, 56, and perhaps others. The language and, in some cases, the ruggedness of the metre, forbid us to suppose that Chaucer can have had anything to do with them, and some are palpably of a much later date; one or more of these considerations at once exclude all the rest of Stowe's additions. It may, however, be noted that no. 47 quotes the line 'Beware alwaye, the blind eats many a fly,' which occurs as a refrain in no. 56, and it is therefore later than the time of Lydgate. The author of no. 48 says he is 'a man vnknowne.' Many lines in no. 49 are of abnormal length; it begins with--'Profulgent in preciousnes, O Sinope the queen.' The same is true of no. 51, which is addressed to a Margaret, and begins with--'In the season of Feuerere when it was full colde.' Of no. 52, Tyrwhitt says that the four first stanzas are found in different parts of an imperfect poem upon the Fall of Man, in MS. Harl. 2251; whilst the 11th stanza makes part of an Envoy, which in the same MS. is annexed to the poem entitled the Craft of Lovers. No. 53 is a poor affair. No. 54, called a Balade Pleasaunte, is very unpleasant and scurrilous, and alludes to the wedding of 'queene Iane[227]' as a circumstance that happened many years ago. No. 55 is scurrilous, odious, and stupid. I doubt if no. 58 is good enough for Lydgate. No. 59 belongs to the sixteenth century.

All the poems here rejected were rejected by Tyrwhitt, with two strange exceptions, viz. nos. 50 and 59, the Virelai and the Court of Love. Of both of these, the language is quite late. The Virelai is interesting from a metrical point of view, because such poems are scarce; the only similar poem that I can call to mind is the Balet (or rather Virelai) composed by Lord Rivers during his imprisonment in 1483, and printed by Percy in his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. Percy says that Lord Rivers copies the Virelai mentioned above, which he assumes to be Chaucer's; but it is quite as likely that the copying was in the other direction, and that Lord Rivers copied some genuine Virelai (either Chaucer's or in French) that is now lost[228]. The final rime of end with find, is bad enough; but the supposition that the language is of the 14th century is ridiculous. Still the Virelai is good in its way, though it can hardly be older than 1500, and may be still later.

Of all poems that have been falsely ascribed to Chaucer, I know of none more amazing than The Court of Love. The language is palpably that of the 16th century, and there are absolutely no examples of the occurrence in it of a final -e that is fully pronounced, and forms a syllable! Yet there are critics who lose their heads over it, and will not give it up. Tyrwhitt says--'I am induced by the internal evidence (!) to consider it as one of Chaucer's genuine productions.' As if the 'internal evidence' of a poem containing no sonant final -e is not enough to condemn it at once. The original MS. copy exists in MS. R. 3. 19 in Trinity College, and the writing is later than 1500. The poem itself has all the smoothness of the Tudor period[229]; it excels the style of Hawes, and would do credit to Sackville. One reference is too interesting to be passed over. In the second stanza, the poet regrets that he has neither the eloquence of Tully, the power of Virgil, nor the 'craft of Galfride.' Tyrwhitt explains Galfride as 'Geoffrey of Monmouth,' though it is difficult to understand on what ground he could have been here thought of. Bell's 'Chaucer' explains Galfride as 'Geoffrey of Vinsauf,' which is still more curious; for Geoffrey of Vinsauf is the very Gaufride whom Chaucer holds up to eternal ridicule in the Nonne Prestes Tale (l. 526).

I have no doubt at all that the Galfrid here referred to is no other than Geoffrey Chaucer, who was called, indifferently, Galfrid or Geoffrey. This appears from the testimony of Lydgate, who speaks, in his 'Troy-book,' of 'Noble Galfryde, chefe Poete of Brytayne,' and again, of 'My mayster Galfride'; see Lydgate's Siege of Troye, bk. ii. ch. 15, and bk. iii. ch. 25; ed. 1557, fol. K 2, col. 1, and fol. R 2, back, col. 2. Hence we are not surprised to find that the author makes frequent reference to Chaucer's Works, viz. to Anelida (l. 235), the Death of Pity (701), Troilus (872), the Legend of Good Women (104, 873), and the Parl. of Foules (near the end). The two allusions to the Legend of Good Women at once make the poem later than 1385; and in fact, it must be quite a century later than that date. There are more than 70 rimes that differ from those employed by Chaucer. The Poet introduces to our notice personages named Philogenet, Philobone, and Rosial. Of these, at least the two former savour of the time of the Renaissance; for, although Chaucer uses the name Philostrate in the Knightes Tale (A 1428, 1558, 1728), he merely copies this name from Boccaccio; and it is amusing to find that Boccaccio himself did not understand it.[230]

§ 12. POEMS ADDED IN SPEGHT'S EDITIONS OF 1598 AND 1602.

We have now to consider the additions made by Speght in 1598. These were only two, viz. Chaucer's Dream and The Flower and the Leaf.

62. Chaucer's Dream. A long poem of 2206 short lines, in metre similar to that of The House of Fame; accepted by Tyrwhitt, and in all the editions. But there is no early trace of it; and we are not bound to accept as Chaucer's a poem first ascribed to him in 1598, and of which the MS. (at Longleat) was written about 1550. The language is of late date, and the sonant final -e is decidedly scarce. The poem is badly named, and may have been so named by Speght; the proper title is 'The Isle of Ladies.' We find such rimes as be, companie (Ch. be, company-e); know, low, i. e. law (Ch. know-e, law-e); grene, yene, i. e. eyes (Ch. gren-e, y-ën); plesaunce, fesaunce (Ch. plesaunc-e, fesaunts); ywis, kisse (Ch. ywis, kis-se); and when we come to destroied riming with conclude, it is time to stop. The tediousness of this poem is appalling[231].

63. The Flower and the Leaf. This is rather a pretty poem, in 7-line stanzas. The language is that of the fifteenth century. It professes to be written by a gentlewoman, like the Assemble of Ladies; and perhaps it was[232]. Very likely, the same 'gentlewoman' wrote both these poems. If so, the Flower and the Leaf is the better finished, and probably the later of the two. It contains the word henchman, for which the earliest dated quotation which I have yet found is 1415 (Royal Wills, ed. Nichols, p. 220). An interesting reference is given in the lines--

'Eke there be knightes old of the garter That in hir time did right worthily.'

The order of the Garter was established in 1349; and we should expect that more than half a century would elapse before it would be natural to refer to the Knights as old knights, who did worthily in their time. Of course the poem cannot be Chaucer's, and it is hardly necessary to look for rimes such as he never uses; yet such may easily be found, such as grew, pt. t. sing., riming with the dissyllabic hew-e, new-e; sid-e with espide, pp. (Ch. espy-ed); eie, eye (Ch. y-ë) with sie, saw (Ch. sy); and plesure[233] with desire; after which we may stop.

In 1602, Speght issued another edition, in which, according to Bonn's edition of Lowndes' Bibliographer's Manual, two more pieces were added, viz. the prose treatise against Friars called Jack Upland, and the genuine poem entitled 'A. B. C.' But this is not all; for I find, in a still later edition, that of 1687, which is said to be a 'reimpression of Speght's edition of 1602,' that, at the very end of all the prefatory matter, on what was probably a spare blank leaf, three more poems appear, which might as well have been consigned to oblivion. But the editors of Chaucer evidently thought that a thing once added must be added for ever, and so these three productions are retained in Bell's Chaucer, and must therefore be noticed with the rest. I find, however, that they had been printed previously, viz. at the end of the Table of Contents in ed. 1542 and ed. 1550, where they are introduced quite casually, without a word of explanation. Moreover, they are copied from MS. Trin. Coll. Cam. R. 3. 15, a MS. which also contains the Canterbury Tales; and no doubt, this fact suggested their insertion. See Todd's Illustrations of Chaucer, p. 120.

64. Jack Upland. An invective against friars, in prose, worth printing, but obviously not Chaucer's.

65. Chaucer's A. B. C. Genuine; here printed as poem no. I.

66. Eight goodly questions with their answers; printed in Bell's Chaucer, vol. iv. p. 421; nine 7-line stanzas. In st. 3, tree rimes with profer; but tree is an obvious misprint for cofer! In st. 5, the gerund to lie (Ch. ly-e) rimes with honestie (Ch. honestee). This is quite enough to condemn it. But it may be Lydgate's.

67. To the Kings most noble Grace, and to the Lords and Knights of the Garter; pr. as above, p. 424; eight 8-line stanzas. In MS. Phillipps 8151, and written by Hoccleve; it much resembles his poem printed in Anglia, v. 23. The date may be 1416. The 'King' is Henry V.

68. Sayings. Really three separate pieces. They are all found on the fly-leaf of the small quarto edition of Caxton, described above, p. 27. When Caxton printed Chaucer's Anelida and Purse on a quire of ten leaves, it so happened that he only filled up nine of them. But, after adding explicit at the bottom of the ninth leaf, to shew that he had come to the end of his Chaucer, he thought it a pity to waste space, and so added three popular sayings on the front of leaf 10, leaving the back of it still blank. Here is what he printed:--

'Whan feyth failleth in prestes sawes And lordes hestes ar holden for lawes And robbery is holden purchas And lechery is holden solas Than shal the lond of albyon Be brought to grete confusio_u_n.

Hit falleth for euery gentilman To saye the best that he can In mannes absence And the soth in his presence.

'Hit cometh by kynde of gentil blode To cast away al heuynes And gadre to-gidre wordes good The werk of wisedom berith witnes Et sic est finis ****.'

The first of these sayings was probably a bit of popular rime, of the character quoted in Shakespeare's King Lear, iii. 2. 81. Shakespeare calls his lines Merlin's prophecy; and it has pleased the editors of Chaucer to call the first six lines Chaucer's Prophecy[234]. They appear in Bell's Chaucer, vol. iii. p. 427, in an 'improved' form, not worth discussing; and the last eight lines are also printed in the same, vol. iv. p. 426. Why they are separated, is mysterious. Those who think them genuine may thank me for giving them Caxton's spelling instead of Speght's.

§ 13. PIECES ADDED IN MORRIS'S EDITION, 1866.

In Morris's edition are some pieces which either do not appear in previous editions, or were first printed later than 1700.

69. Roundel; pr. in vol. vi. p. 304. The same as Merciless Beaute; here printed as no. XI. It first appeared, however, in Percy's Reliques of English Poetry. See p. 80 below.

70. The Former Age; pr. in vol. vi. p. 300, for the first time. Here printed as no. IX. See p. 78.

71. Prosperity; pr. in vol. vi. p. 296, for the first time. This is taken from MS. Arch. Selden B. 24, fol. 119, where it follows Chaucer's Poem on 'Truth.' It has but one stanza of eight lines, and I here give it precisely as it stands in this Scottish MS.:--

'Richt as pou_er_t causith sobirnes, And febilnes enforcith contenence, Ry_ch_t so prosperitee and grete riches The moder is of vice and negligence; And powere also causith Insolence; And hono_ur_ oftsiss changith gude thewis; Thare is no more p_er_ilouss pestilence Than hie estate geven vnto schrewis. Q_uo_d Chaucere.'

I have no belief in the genuineness of this piece, though it is not ill written. In general, the ascription of a piece to Chaucer in a MS. is valuable. But the scribe of this particular MS. was reckless. It is he who made the mistake of marking Hoccleve's 'Mother of God' with the misleading remark--'Explicit or_aci_o Galfridi Chaucere.' At fol. 119, back, he gives us a poem beginning 'Deuise prowes and eke humylitee' in seven 7-line stanzas, and here again at the end is the absurd remark--'Q_uo_d Chaucer quhen he was ry_ch_t auisit.' But he was himself quite 'wrongly advised'; for it is plainly not Chaucer's at all. His next feat is to mark Lydgate's Complaynt of the Black Knight by saying--'Here endith the Maying and disporte of Chaucere'; which shews how the editors were misled as to this poem. Nor is this all; for he gives us, at fol. 137, back, another poem in six 8-line stanzas, beginning 'O hie Emperice and quene celestial'; and here again at the end is his stupid--'Q_uo_d Chaucere.' The date of this MS. appears to be 1472; so it is of no high authority; and, unless we make some verbal alteration, we shall have to explain how Chaucer came to write oftsiss in two syllables instead of ofte sythe in four; see his Can. Yem. Tale, Group G, l. 1031.

72. Leaulte vault Richesse; pr. in vol. vi. p. 302, for the first time. This is from the same MS., fol. 138, and is as follows:--

'This warldly Ioy is onely fantasy, Of quhich non erdly wicht ca_n_ be _con_tent; Quho most has wit, leste suld In It affy, Quho taist_is_ It most, most sall him repent; Quhat valis all this richess and this rent, Sen no ma_n_ wate quho sall his tresour haue? P_re_sume no_ch_t gevin th_a_t god has done but lent, Within schort tyme the quhiche he think_is_ to craue. Leaulte vault richess.'

On this poem, I have three remarks to make. The first is that not even the reckless Scottish scribe attributes it to Chaucer. The second is that Chaucer's forms are content and lent without a final e, and repent-e and rent-e with a final -e, so that the poem cannot be his; although content, repent, rent, and lent rime well enough in the Northern dialect. The third is that if I could be sure that the above lines were by a well-known author, I should at once ascribe them to King James I., who might very well have written these and the lines called Prosperity above. It is somewhat of a coincidence that the very MS. here discussed is that in which the unique copy of the Kingis Quair is preserved.

73. Proverbs of Chaucer; printed in vol. vi. p. 303. The first eight lines are genuine; here printed as no. XX. But two 7-line stanzas are added, which are spurious. In MS. Addit. 16165, Shirley tells us that they were 'made by Halsham Esquyer'; but they seem to be Lydgate's, unless he added to them. See Lydgate's Minor Poems (Percy Soc. 1840), pp. 193 and 74. And see pp. 52, 57.

It thus appears that, of the 73 pieces formerly attributed to Chaucer, not more than 26, and a part of a 27th, can be genuine. These are: Canterbury Tales, Troilus, Legend of Good Women, House of Fame, about a quarter of The Romaunt of the Rose, the Minor Poems printed in the present volume and numbered I-XI, XIII-XXI, and two pieces in prose.

§ 14. DESCRIPTION OF THE MSS.

After the preceding somewhat tedious, but necessary discussion of the contents of the black-letter and other editions (in many of which poems were as recklessly attributed to Chaucer as medieval proverbs used to be to King Solomon), it is some relief to turn to the manuscripts, which usually afford much better texts, and are altogether more trustworthy.

The following is a list of the MSS. which have been followed. I must here acknowledge my great debt to Dr. Furnivall, whose excellent, careful, and exact reproduction in print of the various MSS. leaves nothing to be desired, and is a great boon to all Chaucer scholars. They are nearly all[235] printed among the Chaucer Society's publications. At the same time, I desire to say that I have myself consulted most of the MSS., and have thus gleaned a few hints which could hardly have been otherwise acquired; it was by this process that I became acquainted with the poems numbered XXII. and XXIII., which are probably genuine, and with the poem numbered XII., which is certainly so. An editor should always look at the MSS. for himself, if he can possibly contrive to do so.

LIST OF THE MSS.; WITH ABBREVIATIONS.

N.B. The roman numbers following the name of each MS. denote the numbers of the poems in the present edition.

A.--Ashmole 59, Bodleian Library (Shirley's).--X. XIV. XVIII.

Ad.--Addit. 16165, British Museum.--VII. XX. XXIII.

Add.--Addit. 22139, British Museum.--XIII. XIV. XV. XIX.

Ar.--Arch. Selden B. 24, Bodleian Library.--IV. V. XIII. XVIII.

Arch.--Arch. Selden B. 10, Bodleian Library.--X. XIII.

At.--Addit. 10340, British Museum.--XIII.

B.--Bodley 638 (Oxford).--I. II. III. V. VII. X. XXII.

Bannatyne MS. 1568, Hunterian Museum, Glasgow.--XV.

Bedford MS. (Bedford Library).--I.

C.--Cambridge Univ. Library, Ff. 5. 30.--I.

Corpus.--Corpus Chr. Coll., Oxford, 203.--XIII.

Ct.--Cotton, Cleopatra D. 7; Brit. Mus.--XIII. XIV. XV. XXI.

Cx.--Caxton's editions; see above (p. 27).--V. VII. X. XIII. XIV. XVI. (part); XIX.

D.--Digby 181, Bodleian Library.--V. VII.

E.--Ellesmere MS. (also has the Cant. Tales).--XIII.

ed. 1561.--Stowe's edition, 1561.--VI. VIII. XX. XXI., &c.

F.--Fairfax 16, Bodleian Library.--I. II. III. IV. V. VII. X. XIII. (two copies); XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XX. XXI. XXII.

Ff.--Cambridge Univ. Library, Ff. 1. 6.--II. V. VII. (part); XVIII. XIX.

Gg.[236]--Cambridge Univ. Library, Gg. 4. 27.--I. V. XIII. XVI.

Gl.--Glasgow, Hunterian Museum, Q. 2. 25.--I.

H.--Harleian 2251, Brit. Mus.--I. X. XIV. XIX.

Ha.--Harleian 7578, Brit. Mus.--I. II. XIV. XV. XX. XXI.

Harl.--Harleian 7333, Brit. Mus.--IV. V. VII. XIII. XIV. XV. XIX. XXII.

Harleian 78, Brit. Mus. (Shirley's). See Sh. below.

Harleian 372, Brit. Mus.--VII.

Hat.--Hatton 73, Bodleian Library.--XIII. XV.

Hh.--Cambridge Univ. Library, Hh. 4. 12.--V (part); IX.

I.--Cambridge Univ. Library, Ii. 3. 21.--IX. X.

Jo.--St. John's College, Cambridge, G. 21.--I.

Ju.--Julian Notary's edition (see p. 28).--IV. XVII. XVIII.

Kk.--Cambridge Univ. Library, Kk. 1. 5.--XIII.

L.--Laud 740, Bodleian Library.--I.

Lansdowne 699, Brit. Mus.--X. XIII.

Laud.--Laud 416, Bodleian Library.--V (part).

Lt.--Longleat MS. 258 (Marquis of Bath).--II. IV. V. VII.

O.--St. John's College, Oxford (no. lvii.); fol. 22, bk.--V.

P.--Pepys 2006, Magd. Coll., Cambridge.--I. (two copies); IV. V. VII (part); X. XI. XIII. XVI. XVIII. (two copies); XIX.

Ph.--Phillipps 9053 (Cheltenham).--II. VI. VII. (part); XIX.

Phil.--Phillipps 8299 (Cheltenham).--XIII.

R.--Rawlinson Poet. 163, Bodleian Library.--XII.

Sh.--Shirley's MS. Harl. 78, Brit. Mus.--II. VI.

Sion College MS. (Shirley's).--I.

T.--Trinity College, Cambridge, R. 3. 20.--IV. VII (part); VIII. X. XIII. (two copies); XIV. XV. XVIII.

Th.--W. Thynne's edition, 1532.--III. XV. XVII., &c.

Tn.--Tanner 346, Bodleian Library.--II. III. IV. V. VII. XVIII.

Trin.--Trinity College, Cambridge, R. 3. 19.--II. V.

Trinity College, Cambridge, R. 14. 51.--XIV. XV.

Conversely, I here give a list of the Poems in the present volume, shewing from which MSS. each one is derived. I mention first the MSS. of most importance. I also note the number of lines in each piece.

I. A. B. C. (184 lines).--C. Jo. Gl. L. Gg. F.; other copies in H. P.[237] Bedford. Ha. Sion. B.[238]

II. Pite (119).--Tn. F. B. Sh. Ff. Trin.; also Ha. Lt. Ph.

III. Duchess (1334).--F. Tn. B. Th.

IV. Mars (298).--F. Tn. Ju. Harl. T. Ar.; also P.[237] Lt.

V. Parl. Foules (699).--F. Gg. Trin. Cx. Harl. O. Ff. Tn. D.; also Ar. B. Lt. P.; Hh. (365 lines); Laud (142 lines).

VI. Compleint to his Lady (133).--Ph. Sh.; ed. 1561.

VII. Anelida (357).--Harl. F. Tn. D. Cx.; also B. Lt. Ad.; Harl. 372; partly in T. Ff. P. Ph.

VIII. Lines to Adam (7).--T.; ed. 1561.

IX. Former Age (64).--I. Hh.

X. Fortune (79).--I. A. T. F. B. H.; also P. Cx.; Arch.; Lansd. 699.

XI. Merciless Beaute (39).--P.

XII. To Rosemounde (24).--R.

XIII. Truth (28).--At. Gg. E. Ct. T.[239]; also Arch. Harl. Hat. P. F.[240] Add. Cx.; Ar. Kk. Corpus; Lansd. 699; Phil.

XIV. Gentilesse (21).--A. T. Harl. Ct. Ha. Add. Cx; also H. and Trinity.

XV. Lak of Stedfastnesse (28).--Harl. T. Ct. F. Add.; also Th. Ha.; Hat., Trinity, and Bannatyne.

XVI. To Scogan (49).--Gg. F. P.; also Cx. (21 lines).

XVII. To Bukton (32).--F. Th.; also Ju.

XVIII. Venus (82).--T. A. Tn. F. Ff.; also Ar. Ju. P.[241]

XIX. Purse (26).--F. Harl. Ff. P. Add.; also H. Cx. Ph.

XX. Proverbs (8).--F. Ha. Ad.; ed. 1561.

XXI. Against Women Unconstaunt (21).--Ct. F. Ha.; ed. 1561.

XXII. An Amorous Complaint (91).--Harl. F. B.

XXIII. Balade of Complaint (21).--Ad.

§ 15. REMARKS ON SOME OF THE MSS.

Some of these MSS. deserve a few special remarks.

Shirley's MSS. are--A. Ad. H. Harl. Sh. Sion, and T.

MSS. in Scottish spelling are--Ar. Bannatyne. Kk.; L. shews Northern tendencies.

MSS. AT OXFORD.

F. (Fairfax 16) is a valuable MS.; not only does it contain as many as sixteen of these Minor Poems, but it is a fairly written MS. of the fifteenth century. The spelling does not very materially differ from that of such an excellent MS. as the Ellesmere MS. of the Canterbury Tales, excepting in the fact that a great number of final e's are added in wrong places, and are dropped where they are required. This is a matter that can be to a large extent rectified, and I have endeavoured to do so, taking it in many instances as the standard text. Next to this misuse of final e's, which is merely due to the fact that it was written out at a time when the true use of them was already lost, its most remarkable characteristic is the scribe's excessive love of the letter y in place of i; he writes hyt ys instead of hit is, and the like. In a great number of instances I have restored i, where the vowel is short. When the text of the Fairfax MS. is thus restored, it is by no means a bad one. It also contains fair copies of many poems by Hoccleve and Lydgate, such as the former's Letter of Cupide[242], and the latter's Complaint of the Black Knight, Temple of Glass, and Balade against Women's Doubleness, being the very piece which is introduced into Stowe's edition, and is numbered 45 above (see p. 33). We are also enabled, by comparing this MS. with MS. Harl. 7578, to solve another riddle, viz. why it is that Chaucer's Proverbs, as printed in Morris's and Bell's editions, are followed by two 7-line stanzas which have nothing whatever to do with them. In MS. Harl. 7578 these two stanzas immediately follow, and MS. F. immediately precede Chaucer's Proverbs, and therefore were near enough to them to give an excuse for throwing them in together. However, both these stanzas are by Lydgate, and are mere fragments[243]. The former of them, beginning 'The worlde so wide, thaire so remuable,' really belongs to a poem of 18 stanzas, printed in Halliwell's edition of Lydgate's Minor Poems (Percy Soc.), p. 193. The latter of them, beginning 'The more I goo, the ferther I am behinde,' belongs to a poem of 11 stanzas, printed in the same, p. 74. Perhaps this will serve as a hint to future editors of Chaucer, from whose works it is high time to exclude poems known to be by some other hand.

In this MS. there is also a curious and rather long poem upon the game of chess; the board is called the cheker, and the pieces are the kyng, the quene or the fers (described on fol. 294), the rokys (duo Roci), the knyghtys, the Awfyns (duo alfini), and the povnys (pedini). This is interesting in connection with the Book of the Duchess; see note to l. 654 of that poem. The author tells us how 'he plaid at the chesse,' and 'was mated of a Ferse.'

B. (Bodley 638) is very closely related to MS. F.; in the case of some of the poems, both must have been drawn from a common source. MS. B. is not a mere copy of F., for it sometimes has the correct reading where F. is wrong; as, e.g. in the case of the reading Bret in the House of Fame, l. 1208. It contains seven of these Minor Poems, as well as The boke of Cupide god of loue (Cuckoo and Nightingale), Hoccleve's Lettre of Cupide god of loue, Lydgate's Temple of Glass (oddly called Temple of Bras (!), a mistake which occurs in MS. F. also), his Ordre of Folys, printed in Halliwell's Minor Poems of Lydgate, p. 164, and his Complaint of the Black Knight, imperfect at the beginning.

A. (Shirley's MS. Ashmole 59) is remarkable for containing a large number of pieces by Lydgate, most of which are marked as his. It corroborates the statement in MS. F. that he wrote the Balade against Women's Doubleness. It contains the whole of Scogan's poem in which Chaucer's Gentilesse is quoted: see the complete print of it, from this MS., in the Chaucer Society's publications.

Another poem in this MS. requires a few words. At the back of leaf 38 is a poem entitled 'The Cronycle made by Chaucier,' with a second title to this effect:--'Here nowe folowe the names of the nyene worshipfullest Ladyes that in alle cronycles and storyal bokes haue beo founden of trouthe of constaunce and vertuous or reproched (sic) womanhode by Chaucier.' The poem consists of nine stanzas of eight lines (in the ordinary heroic metre), and is printed in Furnivall's Odd Text of Chaucer's Minor Poems, Part I. It would be a gross libel to ascribe this poem to Chaucer, as it is very poor, and contains execrable rimes (such as prysoun, bycome; apply-e, pyte; thee, dy-e). But we may easily see that the title is likely to give rise to a misconception. It does not really mean that the poem itself is by Chaucer, but that it gives a brief epitome of the 'Cronicle made by Chaucier' of 'the nyene worshipfullest Ladyes.' And, in fact, it does this. Each stanza briefly describes one of the nine women celebrated in Chaucer's Legend of Good Women. It is sufficient to add that the author makes a ludicrous mistake, which is quite enough to acquit Chaucer of having had any hand in this wholly valueless production; for he actually addresses 'quene Alceste' as sorrowing for 'Seyse her husbande.' Seyse is Chaucer's Ceyx, and Alceste is the author's comic substitution for Alcyone; see Book of the Duchess, l. 220. This is not a fault of the scribe; for Alceste rimes with byheste, whereas Alcione does not. I much suspect that Shirley wrote this poem himself. His verses, in MS. Addit. 16165, are very poor.

TN. (Tanner 346) is a fair MS. of the 15th century, and contains, besides six of the Minor Poems, the Legend of Good Women, Hoccleve's Letter of Cupid (called litera Cupidinis dei Amoris directa subditis suis Amatoribus), the Cuckoo and Nightingale (called the god of loue), Lydgate's Temple of Glas and Black Knight, &c. One of them is the Ballad no. 32 discussed above (p. 40). At fol. 73 is a poem in thirteen 8-line stanzas, beginning 'As ofte as syghes ben in herte trewe.' One stanza begins with these lines:--

'As ofte tymes as Penelapye Renewed her werk in the raduore,' &c.

I quote this for the sake of the extremely rare Chaucerian word spelt radevore in the Legend of Good Women. The same line occurs in another copy of the same poem in MS. Ff., fol. 12, back.

AR. (Arch. Seld. B. 24) is a Scottish MS., apparently written in 1472, and contains, amongst other things, the unique copy of the Kingis Quair, by James I. of Scotland. This is the MS. wherein the scribe attributes pieces to Chaucer quite recklessly: see p. 47. It is also the authority for the pieces called Prosperity and Leaulte vault Richesse. Here, once more, we find the Letter of Cupid and the Cuckoo and Nightingale; it is remarkable how often these poems occur in the same MS. It also contains Troilus and the Legend of Good Women.

D. (Digby 181) contains, besides two of the Minor Poems, an imperfect copy of Troilus; also the Letter of Cupid and Complaint of the Black Knight. At fol. 52 is a piece entitled 'Here Bochas rep_re_uyth hem that yeue hasti credence to eu_er_y reporte or tale'; and it begins--'All-though so be in eu_er_y maner age'; in nineteen 7-line stanzas. This is doubtless a part of chapter 13 of Book I. of Lydgate's Fall of Princes.

R. (Rawlinson, Poet. 163) contains a copy of Chaucer's Troilus, followed by the Balade to Rosemounde. Both pieces are marked 'Tregentyll' or 'Tregentil' to the left hand, and 'Chaucer' to the right.

§ 16. CAMBRIDGE MSS.

FF. (Ff. 1. 6) contains, besides five of the Minor Poems, many other pieces. One is a copy of Pyramus and Thisbe, being part of the Legend of Good Women. There are four extracts from various parts of Gower's Confessio Amantis; the Cuckoo and Nightingale and Letter of Cupid; the Romance of Sir Degrevaunt; La Belle Dame sans Merci. Some pieces from this MS. are printed in Reliquiae Antiquae, i. 23, 169, 202; and two more, called The Parliament of Love and The Seven Deadly Sins, are printed in Political, Religious, and Love Poems, ed. Furnivall (E. E. T. S.), pp. 48, 215. We also find here a copy of Lydgate's Ballad of Good Counsail, printed in the old editions of Chaucer (piece no. 40; see above, p. 33).

GG. (Gg. 4. 27) is the MS. which contains so excellent a copy of the Canterbury Tales, printed as the 'Cambridge MS.' in the Chaucer Society's publications. Four leaves are lost at the beginning. On leaf 5 is Chaucer's A. B. C.; on leaf 7, back, the Envoy to Scogan; and on leaf 8, back, Chaucer's Truth, entitled Balade de bone conseyl. This is followed by a rather pretty poem, in 15 8-line stanzas, which is interesting as quoting from Chaucer's Parliament of Foules. Examples are: 'Qui bien ayme tard oublye' (l. 32; cf. P. F. 679): 'The fesaunt, scornere of the cok Be nihter-tyme in frostis colde' (ll. 49, 50; cf. P. F. 357); 'Than spak the frosty feldefare' (l. 89; cf. P. F. 364). Line 41 runs--'Robert redbrest and the wrenne'; which throws some light on the etymology of robin. This valuable MS. also contains Troilus and the Legend of Good Women, with the unique earlier form of the Prologue; The Parlement of Foules; and Lydgate's Temple of Glas. At fol. 467 is a Supplicacio amantis, a long piece of no great value, but the first four lines give pretty clear evidence that the author was well acquainted with Chaucer's Anelida, and aspired to imitate it.

'Redresse of sorweful, O Cytherea, That w_i_t_h_ the stremys of thy plesau_n_t hete Gladist the cuntreis of al Cirrea, Wher thou hast chosyn thy paleys and thy sete.'

It seems to be a continuation of the Temple of Glas, and is probably Lydgate's own.

HH. (Camb. Univ. Lib. Hh. 4. 12) contains much of Lydgate, and is fully described in the Catalogue.

P. (Pepys 2006) consists of 391 pages, and contains Lydgate's Complaint of the Black Knight, and Temple of Glass, part of the Legend of Good Women, the A. B. C., House of Fame, Mars and Venus (two copies), Fortune, Parlement of Foules, The Legend of the Three Kings of Cologne, The War between Caesar and Pompey, a Translation of parts of Cato, the Tale of Melibeus and Parson's Tale, Anelida, Envoy to Scogan, A. B. C. (again), Purse, Truth, and Merciless Beauty.

TRIN. (Trin. Coll. Camb. R. 3. 19) not only contains two of the Minor Poems, but a large number of other pieces, including the Legend of Good Women and many of Lydgate's Poems. In particular, it is the source of most of Stowe's additions to Chaucer: I may mention The Craft of Lovers, dated 1448 in the MS. (fol. 156), but 1348 in Stowe; the Ten Commandments of Love, Nine Ladies worthy, Virelai (fol. 160), Balade beginning In the seson of Feuerer (fol. 160), Goddesses and Paris (fol. 161, back), A balade plesaunte (fol. 205), O Mossie Quince (fol. 205), Balade beginning Loke well aboute (fol. 207); and The Court of Love; see the pieces numbered 46, 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, 54, 55, 56, 59, (p. 33). The piece numbered 41 also occurs here, at the end of the Parliament of Foules, and is headed 'Verba translatoris.' One poem, by G. Ashby, is dated 1463, and I suppose most of the pieces are in a handwriting of a later date, not far from 1500. It is clear that Stowe had no better reason for inserting pieces in his edition of Chaucer than their occurrence in this MS. to which he had access. If he had had access to any other MS. of the same character, the additions in his book would have been different, and The Court of Love would never have been 'Chaucer's.' Yet this is the sort of evidence which some accept as being quite sufficient to prove that Chaucer learnt the language of a century after his own date, in order to qualify himself for writing that poem.

§ 17. LONDON MSS.

AD. (MS. Addit. 16165). One of Shirley's MSS., marked with his name in large letters. It contains a copy of Chaucer's Boethius; Trevisa's translation of the gospel of Nichodemus; the Maistre of the game (on hunting); the Compleint of the Black Knight and the Dreme of a Lover, both by Lydgate. The latter is the same poem, I suppose, as The Temple of Glas. It is here we learn from Shirley that the Complaint of the Black Knight is Lydgate's. Not only is it headed, on some pages, as 'The complaynte of a knight made by Lidegate,' but on fol. 3 he refers to the same poem, speaking of it as being a complaint--

'al in balade[244], That daun Iohan of Bury made, Lydgate the Munk clothed in blakke.'

Here also we find two separate fragments of Anelida[245]; the two stanzas mentioned above (p. 52, l. 20), called by Shirley 'two verses made in wyse of balade by Halsham, Esquyer'; Chaucer's Proverbs; the poem no. 45 above (p. 33), attributed in this MS. to Lydgate; &c. At fol. 256, back, is the Balade of compleynte printed in this volume as poem no. XXIII.

ADD. (MS. Addit. 22139). This is a fine folio MS., containing Gower's Confessio Amantis. At fol. 138 are Chaucer's Purse, Gentilesse, Lak of Stedfastnesse, and Truth.

AT. (MS. Addit. 10340). Contains Chaucer's Boethius (foll. 1-40); also Truth, with the unique envoy, and the description of the 'Persone,' from the Canterbury Tales, on fol. 41, recto[246].

CT. (MS. Cotton, Cleopatra, D. 7). The Chaucer poems are all on leaves 188, 189. They are all ballads, viz. Gentilesse, Lak of Stedfastness, Truth, and Against Women Unconstaunt. All four are in the same hand; and we may remark that the last of the four is thus, in a manner, linked with the rest; see p. 58, l. 5, p. 26, l. 29.

H. (MS. Harl. 2251). Shirley's MS. contains a large number of pieces, chiefly by Lydgate. Also Chaucer's Prioresses Tale, Fortune (fol. 46), Gentilesse (fol. 48, back), A. B. C. (fol. 49), and Purse (fol. 271). The Craft of Lovers also occurs, and is dated 1459 in this copy. Poem no. 56 (p. 34) also occurs here, and is marked as Lydgate's. We also see from this MS. that the first four stanzas of no. 52 (p. 33) form part of a poem on the Fall of Man, in which Truth, Mercy, Righteousness, and Peace are introduced as allegorical personages. The four stanzas form part of Mercy's plea, and this is why the word mercy occurs ten times. At fol. 153, back (formerly 158, back), we actually find a copy of Henry Scogan's poem in which Chaucer's Gentilesse is not quoted, the requisite stanzas being entirely omitted. At fol. 249, back, Lydgate quotes the line 'this world is a thurghfare ful of woo,' and says it is from Chaucer's 'tragedyes.' It is from the Knightes Tale, l. 1989 (A 2847).

HA. (Harl. 7578). Contains Lydgate's Proverbs; Chaucer's Pite (fol. 13, back), Gentilesse and Lak of Stedfastnesse (fol. 17), immediately followed by the Balade against Women unconstaunt, precisely in the place where we should expect to find it; also Chaucer's Proverbs, immediately followed by the wholly unconnected stanzas discussed above; p. 52, l. 20. At fol. 20, back, are six stanzas of Chaucer's A. B. C.

HARL. (MS. Harl. 7333). This is a fine folio MS., and contains numerous pieces. At fol. 37, recto, begins a copy of the Canterbury Tales, with a short prose Proem by Shirley; this page has been reproduced in facsimile for the Chaucer Society. At fol. 129, back, begins the Parliament of Foules, at the end of which is the stanza which appears as poem no. 41 in Stowe's edition (see p. 33). Then follow the Broche of Thebes, i. e. the Complaint of Mars, and Anelida. It also contains some of the Gesta Romanorum and of Hoccleve's De Regimine Principum. But the most remarkable thing in this MS. is the occurrence, at fol. 136, of a poem hitherto (as I believe) unprinted, yet obviously (in my opinion) written by Chaucer; see no. XXII. in the present volume. Other copies occur in F. and B.

SH. (MS. Harl. 78; one of Shirley's MSS.). At fol. 80 begins the Complaint to Pity; on fol. 82 the last stanza of this poem is immediately followed by the poem here printed as no. VI; the only mark of separation is a star-like mark placed upon the line which is drawn to separate one stanza from another. At the end of fol. 83, back, l. 123 of the poem occurs at the bottom of the page, and fol. 84 is gone; so that the last stanza of 10 lines and the ascription to Chaucer in the colophon do not appear in this MS.

MS. Harl. 372. This MS. contains many poems by Lydgate. Also a copy of Anelida; followed by La Belle Dame sans mercy, 'translatid out of Frenche by Sir Richard Ros,' &c.

MS. Lansdowne 699. This MS. contains numerous poems by Lydgate, such as Guy of Warwick, the Dance of Macabre, the Horse, Sheep, and Goose, &c.; and copies of Chaucer's Fortune and Truth.

§ 18. I. A. B. C.

This piece was first printed in Speght's edition of 1602, with this title: 'Chaucer's A. B. C. called La Priere de Nostre Dame: made, as some say, at the Request of Blanch, Duchesse of Lancaster, as a praier for her priuat vse, being a woman in her religion very deuout.' This is probably a mere guess, founded on the fact that Chaucer wrote the Book of the Duchess. It cannot be literally true, because it is not strictly 'made,' or composed, but only translated. Still, it is just possible that it was translated for her pleasure (rather than use); and if so, must have been written between 1359 and 1369. A probable date is about 1366. In any case, it may well stand first in chronological order, being a translation just of that unambitious character which requires no great experience. Indeed, the translation shews one mark of want of skill; each stanza begins by following the original for a line or two, after which the stanza is completed rather according to the requirements of rime than with an endeavour to render the original at all closely. There are no less than thirteen MS. copies of it; and its genuineness is attested both by Lydgate and Shirley.[247] The latter marks it with Chaucer's name in the Sion College MS. Lydgate's testimony is curious, and requires a few words of explanation.

Guillaume De Deguilleville, a Cistercian monk in the royal abbey of Chalis[248], in the year 1330 or 1331[249], wrote a poem entitled Pèlerinage de la Vie humaine. Of this there are two extant English translations, one in prose and one in verse, the latter being attributed to Lydgate. Of the prose translation[250] four copies exist, viz. in the MSS. which I call C., Gl., Jo., and L. In all of these, Chaucer's A. B. C. is inserted, in order to give a verse rendering of a similar prayer in verse in the original. Of Lydgate's verse translation there is a copy in MS. Cotton, Vitell. C. xiii. (see foll. 255, 256); and when he comes to the place where the verse prayer occurs in his original, he says that, instead of translating the prayer himself, he will quote Chaucer's translation, observing:--

'My mayster Chaucer, in hys tyme, Affter the Frenchs he dyde yt ryme.'

Curiously enough, he does not do so; a blank space was left in the MS. for the scribe to copy it out, but it was never filled in[251]. However, it places the genuineness of the poem beyond doubt; and the internal evidence confirms it; though it was probably, as was said, quite an early work.

In order to illustrate the poem fully, I print beneath it the French original, which I copy from the print of it in Furnivall's One-text Print of Chaucer's Minor Poems, Part I. p. 84.

It is taken from Guillaume De Deguilleville's Pèlerinage de l'Ame, Part I, Le Pèlerinage de la Vie humaine. Edited from the MS. 1645, Fonds Français, in the National Library, Paris (A), and collated with the MSS. 1649 (B), 376 (C), and 377 (D), in the same collection, by Paul Meyer. I omit, however, the collations; the reader only wants a good text.

Chaucer did not translate the last two stanzas. I therefore give them here.

'Ethiques[252] s'avoie leü, Tout recordé et tout sceü, Et après riens n'en ouvrasse Du tout seroie deceü. 280 Aussi con cil qui est cheü, En sa rois et en sa nasse. Vierge, m'ame je claim lasse, Quar en toy priant se lasse Et si ne fait point son deü. Pou vault chose que je amasse; Ma priere n'est que quasse S'a bien je ne sui esmeü.

'Contre[253] moy doubt que ne prie Ou que en vain merci ne crie. 290 Je te promet amandement; Et pour ce que je ne nie Ma promesse, je t'en lie L'ame de moy en gaigement; Puis si te pri finablement Que quant sera mon finement Tu ne me defailles mie: Pour moy soies au jugement Afin que hereditablement J'aie pardurable vie. AMEN.' 300

MS. C. affords, on the whole, the best text, and is therefore followed, all variations from it being duly noted in the footnotes, except (occasionally) when i is put for y, or y for i. The scribes are very capricious in the use of these letters, using them indifferently; but it is best to use i when the vowel is short (as a general rule), and y when it is long. Thus, it is is better than yt ys, and wyse than wise, in order to shew that the vowel is long in the latter case. I also use y at the end of a word, as usual; as in lady, my. When the spelling of the MS. is thus slightly amended, it gives a fair text, which can easily be read with the old and true pronunciation.

We may roughly divide the better MSS. into two sets, thus: (a) C. Gl. L. Jo.; (b) F. B. Gg. The rest I have not collated. See Koch, in Anglia, iv. b. 100.

The metre of this poem is worthy of notice. Chaucer uses it again, in the Former Age (IX), Lenvoy to Bukton (XVII), and in the Monkes Tale. More complex examples of it, with repeated rimes, are seen in the Balade to Rosemounde (XII), Fortune (X), and Venus (XVIII). See also the two stanzas on p. 47.

§ 19. II. THE COMPLEYNT UNTO PITE.

The word compleynt answers to the O. F. complaint, sb. masc., as distinguished from O. F. complainte, sb. fem., and was the technical name, as it were, for a love-poem of a mournful tone, usually addressed to the unpitying loved one. See Godefroy's Old French Dictionary[254]. Dr. Furnivall's account of this poem begins as follows: 'In seventeen 7-line stanzas: 1 of Proem, 7 of Story, and 9 of Complaint, arranged in three Terns [sets of three] of stanzas; first printed by Thynne in 1532.... The poem looks not easy to construe; but it is clearly a Complaint to Pity, as 5 MSS. read, and not of Pity, as Shirley reads in MS. Harl. 78. This Pity once lived in the heart of the loved-one of the poet.... But in his mistress's heart dwells also Pity's rival, Cruelty; and when the poet, after waiting many years[255], seeks to declare his love, even before he can do so, he finds that Pity for him is dead in his mistress's heart, Cruelty has prevailed, and deprived him of her.' His theory is, that this poem is Chaucer's earliest original work, and relates to his own feelings of hopeless love; also, that Chaucer was not married till 1374, when he married his namesake Philippa Chaucer[256]. If this be so, a probable conjectural date for this poem is about 1367. I have remarked, in the note to l. 14, that the allegory of the poem is somewhat confused; and this implies a certain want of skill and clearness, which makes the supposition of its being an early work the more probable[257]. It is extremely difficult to determine to what extent the sentiments are artificial. If a French poem of a similar character should one day be found, it would not be very surprising. Meanwhile, it is worth observing that the notion of personifying Pity is taken from Chaucer's favourite author Statius; see the Thebaid, bk. xi. 458-496, and compare the context, ll. 1-457. It is this which enables us to explain the word Herenus in l. 92, which is an error for Herines, the form used by Chaucer to denote the Erinnyes or Furies[258]. The Erinnyes are mentioned in Statius, Theb. xi. 345 (cf. ll. 58, 60, 383); and Statius leads up to the point of the story where it is an even chance whether there will be peace or war. The Furies urge on the combatants to war; and at this crisis, the only power who can overrule them is Pietas, personified by Statius for this express purpose (ll. 458, 465, 466). The struggle between Pity and Cruelty in Chaucer's poem is parallel to the struggle between Pietas and the fury Tisiphone as told in Statius. Pity is called Herines quene, or queen of the Furies, because she alone is supposed to be able to control them. See my notes to ll. 57, 64, and 92.

The poem is extant in nine MSS. It is attributed to Chaucer by Shirley in MS. 'Sh.,' and the internal evidence confirms this. There is a fairly good copy in MS. F., on which my edition of it is based. There is, further, an excellent critical edition of this poem by Prof. Ten Brink, in Essays on Chaucer, Part II, p. 170 (Chaucer Soc.); this I carefully consulted after making my own copy, and I found that the differences were very slight. The least valuable MSS. seem to be Ff., Ph., and Lt. Omitting these, the MSS. may be divided into three sets, viz. A, Ba, and Bb, the two last going back to a common source B. These are: (A.)--Sh. Ha.; (Ba.)--F. B.; (Bb.)--Tn. Trin. See Koch, in Anglia, iv. b. 96.

In this poem we have the earliest example, in English, of the famous 7-line stanza.

§ 20. III. THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE.

Here we are on firm ground. The genuineness of this poem has never been doubted. It is agreed that the word Whyte in l. 948, which is given as the name of the lady lately dead, is a translation of Blanche, and that the reference is to the wife of the Duke of Lancaster (John of Gaunt), who died Sept. 12, 1369, at the age of twenty-nine, her husband being then of the same age. As the poem would naturally be written soon after this event, the date must be near the end of 1369. In fact, John of Gaunt married again in 1372, whereas he is represented in the poem as being inconsolable. Chaucer's own testimony, in the Legend of Good Women, l. 418, is that he made 'the deeth of Blaunche the Duchesse'; and again, in the Introduction to the Man of Law's Prologue, l. 57, that 'In youthe he made of Ceys and Alcion.' In 1369, Chaucer was already twenty-nine years of age (taking the year of his birth to be 1340, not 1328), which is rather past the period of youth; and the fact that he thus mentions 'Ceys and Alcion' as if it were the name of an independent poem, renders it almost certain that such was once the case. He clearly thought it too good to be lost, and so took the opportunity of inserting it in a more ambitious effort. The original 'Ceys and Alcion' evidently ended at l. 220; where it began, we cannot say, for the poem was doubtless revised and somewhat altered. Ll. 215, 216 hint that a part of it was suppressed. The two subjects were easily connected, the sorrow of Alcyone for the sudden and unexpected loss of her husband being the counterpart of the sorrow of the duke for the loss of his wife. The poem of 'Ceys and Alcion' shews Chaucer under the influence of Ovid, just as part of his Complaint to Pity was suggested by Statius; but in the later part of the poem of the Book of the Duchesse we see him strongly influenced by French authors, chiefly Guillaume de Machault and the authors of Le Roman de la Rose. His familiarity with the latter poem (as pointed out in the notes) is such as to prove that he had already been previously employed in making his translation of that extremely lengthy work, and possibly quotes lines from his own translation[259].

The relationship between the MSS. and Thynne's edition has been investigated by Koch, in Anglia, vol. iv. Anzeiger, p. 95, and by Max Lange, in his excellent dissertation entitled Untersuchungen über Chaucer's Boke of the Duchesse, Halle, 1883. They both agree in representing the scheme of relationship so as to give the following result:

{ [beta] ---- Thynne. [alpha] ---- { { [gamma] ---- { Tanner MS. { { { Fairfax MS. { [delta] ---- { { Bodley MS.

Here [alpha] represents a lost original MS., and [beta] and [gamma] are lost MSS. derived from it. Thynne follows [beta]; whilst [gamma] is followed by the Tanner MS. and a lost MS. [delta]. The Fairfax and Bodley MSS., which are much alike, are copies of [delta]. The MS. [gamma] had lost a leaf, containing ll. 31-96; hence the same omission occurs in the three MSS. derived from it. However, a much later hand has filled in the gap in MS. F, though it remains blank in the other two MSS. On the whole, the authorities for this poem are almost unusually poor; I have, in general, followed MS. F, but have carefully amended it where the other copies seemed to give a better result. Lange gives a useful set of 'Konjecturen,' many of which I have adopted. I have also adopted, thankfully, some suggestions made by Koch and Ten Brink; others I decline, with thanks.

This poem is written in the common metre of four accents, which was already in use before Chaucer's time, as in the poem of Havelok the Dane, Robert of Brunne's Handling Synne, Hampole's Pricke of Conscience, &c. Chaucer only used it once afterwards, viz. in his House of Fame. It is the metre employed also in his translation (as far as we have it) of the French Roman de la Rose.

§ 21. IV. THE COMPLEYNT OF MARS.

Lydgate tells us that this poem is Chaucer's, referring to it as containing the story of 'the broche which that Vulcanus At Thebes wrought,' &c. Internal evidence clearly shews that it was written by the author of the Treatise on the Astrolabie. In MS. Harl. 7333, Shirley gives it the title 'The broche of Thebes, as of the love of Mars and Venus.' Bale oddly refers to this poem as De Vulcani veru, but broche is here an ornament, not a spit. With the exception of two lines and a half (ll. 13-15), the whole poem is supposed to be sung by a bird, and upon St. Valentine's day. Such a contrivance shews a certain lack of skill, and is an indication of a comparatively early date. The poem begins in the ordinary 7-line stanza, rimed a b a b b c c; but the Complaint itself is in 9-line stanzas, rimed a a b a a b b c c, and exhibits a considerable advance in rhythmical skill. This stanza, unique in Chaucer, was copied by Douglas (Palace of Honour, part 3), and by Sir D. Lyndesay (Prol. to Testament of Papyngo).

At the end of the copy of this poem in MS. T., Shirley appends the following note:--'Thus eondethe here this complaint, whiche some men sayne was made by [i. e. with respect to] my lady of York, doughter to the kyng of Spaygne, and my lord huntingdon, some tyme Duc of Excestre.' This tradition may be correct, but the intrigue between them was discreditable enough, and would have been better passed over in silence than celebrated in a poem, in which Mars and Venus fitly represent them. In the heading to the poem in the same MS., Shirley tells us further, that it was written to please John of Gaunt. The heading is:--'Loo, yee louers, gladethe and comfortethe you of thallyance etrayted[260] bytwene the hardy and furyous Mars the god of armes and Venus the double [i. e. fickle] goddesse of loue; made by Geffrey Chaucier, at the comandement of the reno_m_med and excellent Prynce my lord the Duc Iohn of Lancastre.' The lady was John of Gaunt's sister-in-law. John of Gaunt married, as his second wife, in 1372, Constance, elder daughter of Pedro, king of Castile; whilst his brother Edmund, afterwards duke of York, married Isabel, her sister. In Dugdale's Baronage, ii. 154, we read that this Isabel, 'having been somewhat wanton in her younger years, at length became a hearty penitent; and departing this life in 1394, was buried in the Friers Preachers at Langele,' i. e. King's Langley in Hertfordshire; cf. Chauncy's Hertfordshire, p. 455; Camden's Anglica, p. 350. It is possible that Chaucer addressed his Envoy to the Complaint of Venus to the same lady, as he calls her 'Princess.'

Mars is, accordingly, intended to represent John Holande, half-brother to Richard II, Earl of Huntingdon, and afterwards Duke of Exeter. He actually married John of Gaunt's daughter, Elizabeth, whose mother was the Blaunche celebrated in the Book of the Duchess.

If this tradition be true, the date of the poem must be not very many years after 1372, when the Princess Isabel came to England. We may date it, conjecturally, about 1374. See further in Furnivall's Trial Forewords, pp. 78-90. I may add that an attempt has been made to solve the problem of the date of this poem by astronomy (see Anglia, ix. 582). It is said that Mars and Venus were in conjunction on April 14, 1379. This is not wholly satisfactory; for Chaucer seems to refer to the 12th of April as the time of conjunction. If we accept this result, then the year was 1379. The date 1373-9 is near enough.

The poem is remarkable for its astronomical allusions, which are fully explained in the notes. The story of Mars and Venus was doubtless taken from Ovid, Metam. iv. 170-189. The story of the brooch of Thebes is from Statius, ii. 265, &c.; see note to l. 245.

I shall here add a guess of mine which possibly throws some light on Chaucer's reason for referring to the brooch of Thebes. It is somewhat curious that the Princess Isabel, in a will made twelve years before her death, and dated Dec. 6, 1382, left, amongst other legacies, 'to the Duke of Lancaster, a Tablet of Jasper which the King of Armonie gave her'; see Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 82. Here Armonie means, of course, Armenia; but it is also suggestive of Harmonia, the name of the first owner of the brooch of Thebes. It seems just possible that the brooch of Thebes was intended to refer to this tablet of jasper, which was doubtless of considerable value and may have been talked about as being a curiosity.

MSS. F. Tn. and Lt. are much alike; the rest vary. I follow F. mainly, in constructing the text.

§ 22. V. THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES.

This poem is undoubtedly genuine; both Chaucer and Lydgate mention it. It is remarkable as being the first of the Minor Poems which exhibits the influence upon Chaucer of Italian literature, and was therefore probably written somewhat later than the Complaint of Mars. It is also the first of the Minor Poems in which touches of true humour occur; see ll. 498-500, 508, 514-6, 563-575, 589-616. Dr. Furnivall (Trial Forewords, p. 53) notes that the MSS. fall into two principal groups; in the first he places Gg., Trin., Cx., Harl., O., the former part of Ff., (part of) Ar., and the fragments in Hh. and Laud 416; in the second he places F., Tn., D., and the latter part of Ff. Lt. also belongs to the second group. See further in Anglia, vol. iv. Anzeiger, p. 97. The whole poem, except the Roundel in ll. 680-692, is in Chaucer's favourite 7-line stanza, often called the ballad-stanza, or simply balade in the MSS.

The poem itself may be roughly divided into four parts. The first part, ll. 1-84, is mainly occupied with an epitome of the general contents of Cicero's Somnium Scipionis. The second part, ll. 85-175, shews several instances of the influence of Dante, though the stanza containing ll. 99-105 is translated from Claudian. The third part, ll. 176-294, is almost wholly translated or imitated from Boccaccio's Teseide. And the fourth part, ll. 295 to the end, is occupied with the real subject of the poem, the main idea being taken, as Chaucer himself tells us, from Alanus de Insulis. The passages relating to the Somnium Scipionis are duly pointed out in the notes; and so are the references to Dante and Claudian. The history of the third and fourth parts requires further explanation.

We have already seen that Chaucer himself tells us, in the Prol. to the Legend, 420, that he made--'al the love of Palamon and Arcyte Of Thebes, thogh the story is knowen lyte.' (N.B. This does not mean that Chaucer's version of the story was 'little known,' but that Boccaccio speaks of the story as being little known--'che Latino autor non par ne dica'; see note to Anelida, l. 8.) Now, in the first note on Anelida and Arcite, it is explained how this story of Palamon and Arcite was necessarily translated, more or less closely, from Boccaccio's Teseide, and was doubtless written in the 7-line stanza; also that fragments of it are preserved to us (1) in sixteen stanzas of the Parliament of Foules, (2) in the first ten stanzas of Anelida, and (3) in three stanzas of Troilus. At a later period, the whole poem was re-written in a different metre, and now forms the Knightes Tale. The sixteen stanzas here referred to begin at l. 183 (the previous stanza being also imitated from a different part of the Teseide, bk. xi. st. 24), and end at l. 294. Chaucer has somewhat altered the order; see note to l. 183. I here quote, from Furnivall's Trial Forewords, pp. 60-66, a translation by Mr. W. M. Rossetti, of Boccaccio's Teseide, bk. vii. stanzas 51-66; and I give, beneath it, the Italian text, from an edition published at Milan in 1819. This passage can be compared with Chaucer's imitation of it at the reader's leisure.

I note, beforehand, that, in the first line of this translation, the word whom refers to Vaghezza, i. e. Grace, Allurement; whilst she is the prayer of Palemo, personified.

Tes. vii. stanzas 51-60; cf. Parl. Foules, ll. 183-259.

<< 'With whom going forward, she saw that [i. e. Mount Cithaeron] In every view suave and charming; In guise of a garden bosky and beautiful, And greenest, full of plants, Of fresh grass, and every new flower; And therein rose fountains living and clear; And, among the other plants it abounded in, Myrtle seemed to her more than other. >> Colla quale oltre andando vide quello Per ogni vista soave ed ameno, A guisa d'un giardin fronzuto e bello E di piante verdissimo ripieno, D'erbetta fresca e d'ogni fior novello; E fonti vive e chiare vi surgieno, E in fra l'altre piante, onde abbondava, Mortine più che altro le sembrava.

<< 'Here she heard amid the branches sweetly P. F. 190. Birds singing of almost all kinds: Upon which [branches] also in like wise She saw them with delight making their nests. Next among the fresh shadows quickly She saw rabbits go hither and thither, And timid deer and fawns, And many other dearest little beasts.

>> Quivi sentì pe' rami dolcemente Quasi d'ogni maniera ucce' cantare, Sopra de' quali ancor similemente Gli vide con diletto i nidi a fare: Poscia fra l'ombre fresche prestamente Vidi conigli in qua e in là andare, E timidenti cervi e cavrioli, E molti altri carissimi bestiuoli.

<< 'In like wise here every instrument P. F. 197. She seemed to hear, and delightful chaunt: Wherefore passing with pace not slow, And looking about, somewhat within herself suspended At the lofty place and beautiful adornment She saw it replete in almost every corner With spiritlings which, flying here and there, Went to their bourne. Which she looking at,

>> Similemente quivi ogni stromento Le parve udire e dilettoso canto; Onde passando con passo non lento, E rimirando, in sè sospesa alquanto Dell' alto loco e del bell' ornamento; Ripieno il vide quasi in ogni canto Di spirite', che qua e là volando Gieno a lor posta; a' quali essa guardando,

<< 'Among the bushes beside a fountain P. F. 211. Saw Cupid forging arrows-- He having the bow set down by his feet; Which [arrows when] selected his daughter Voluptas Tempered in the waves. And settled down With them was Ease [Ozio, Otium]; whom she saw That he, with Memory, steeled his darts With the steel that she [Voluptas] first tempered.

>> Tra gli albuscelli ad una fonta allato Vide Cupido a fabbricar saette, Avendo egli a' suoi piè l'arco posato, Le qua' sua figlia Voluttade elette Nell' onde temperava, ed assettato Con lor s'era Ozio, il quale ella vedette, Che con Memoria l'aste sue ferrava De' ferri ch' ella prima temperava.

<< 'And then she saw in that pass Grace [Leggiadria], P. F. 218. With Adorning [Adornezza] and Affability, And the wholly estrayed Courtesy; And she saw the Arts that have power To make others perforce do folly, In their aspect much disfigured. The Vain Delight of our form She saw standing alone with Gentilesse.

>> E poi vide in quel passo Leggiadria Con Adornezza ed Affabilitate, E la ismarrita in tutto Cortesia, E vide l'Arti ch' hanno potestate Di fare altrui a forza far follia, Nel loro aspetto molto isfigurate: Delia immagine nostra il van Diletto Con Gentilezza vide star soletto.

<< 'Then she saw Beauty pass her by, P. F. 225. Without any ornament, gazing on herself; And with her she saw Attraction [Piacevolezza] go,-- She [the prayer] commending to herself both one and other. With them she saw standing Youth, Lively and adorned, making great feast: And on the other side she saw madcap Audacity Going along with Glozings and Pimps.

>> Poi vide appresso a sè passar Bellezza Sanz' ornamento alcun sè riguardando, E vide gir con lei Piacevolezza, E l'una e l'altra seco commendando, Vide con loro starsi Giovinezza Destra ed adorna, molto festeggiando: E d'altra parte vide il folle Ardire Con Lusinghe e Ruffiani insieme gire.

<< 'In mid the place, on lofty columns, P. F. 232. She saw a temple of copper; round which She saw youths dancing and women-- This one of them beautiful, and that one in fine raiment, Ungirdled, barefoot, only in their hair and gowns, Who spent the day in this alone. Then over the temple she saw doves hover And settle and coo.

>> In mezzo il loco sur alte colonne Di rame vide un tempio, al qual d'intorno Danzanti giovinetti vide e donne, Qual d'esse bella, e qual d'abito adorno, Iscinte, iscalze, in capei soli e'n gonne, Che in questo solo disponeano il giorno: Poi sopra il tempio vide volitare E posarsi colombe e mormorare.

<< 'And near to the entry of the temple P. F. 239. She saw that there sat quietly My lady Peace, who a curtain Moved lightly before the door. Next her, very subdued in aspect, Sat Patience discreetly, Pallid in look; and on all sides Around her she saw artful Promises.

>> E all'entrata del tempio vicina Vide che si sedava pianamente Monna Pace, la quale una cortina Movea innanzi alla porta lievemente; Appresso a lei in vista assai tapina Pacienza sedea discretamente; Pallida nell' aspetto, e d'ogni parte Intorno a lei vide Promesse ad arte.

<< 'Then entering the temple, of Sighs P. F. 246. She felt there an earthquake, which whirled All fiery with hot desires. This lit up all the altars With new flames born of pangs; Each of which dripped with tears Produced by a woman cruel and fell Whom she there saw, called Jealousy

>> Poi dentro al tempio entrata, di sospiri Vi senti un terremoto, che girava Focoso tutto di caldi disiri: Questi gli altari tutti alluminava Di nuove fiamme nate di martiri, De' qua' ciascun di lagrime grondava, Mosse da una donna cruda e ria, Che vide lì, chiamata Gelosia:

<< 'And in that [temple] she saw Priapus hold P. F. 253. The highest place--in habit just such as Whoever would at night see him Could [do] when, braying, the animal Dullest of all awoke Vesta, who to his mind Was not a little--towards whom he in like guise Went: and likewise throughout the great temple She saw many garlands of diverse flowers.'

>> Ed in quel vide Priapo tenere Più sommo loco, in abito tal quale Chiunque il volle la notte vedere Potè, quando ragghiando l'animale Più pigro destò Vesta, che in calere Non poco gli era, in vêr di cui cotale Andava; e simil per lo tempio grande Di fior diversi assai vide grillande.

Tes. vii. 61, 62; cf. P. F. 281-294.

<< 'Here many bows of the Chorus of Diana P. F. 281. She saw hung up and broken; among which was That of Callisto, become the Arctic Bear. The apples were there of haughty Atalanta, who was sovereign in racing; And also the arms of that other proud one Who brought forth Parthenopaeus, Grandson to the Calydonian King Oeneus.

>> Quivi molti archi a' Cori di Diana Vide appiccati e rotti, in tra quali era Quel di Callisto fatta tramontana Orsa; le pome v'eran della fiera Atalanta che 'n correr fu sovrana; Ed ancor l'armi di quell' altra altiera Che partorì il bel Partenopeo Nipote al calidonio Re Eneo.

<< 'She saw there histories painted all about; P. F. 288. Among which with finer work Of the spouse of Ninus she there Saw all the doings distinguished; and at foot of the mulberry-tree Pyramus and Thisbe, and the mulberries already distained; And she saw among these the great Hercules In the lap of Iole, and woeful Biblis Going piteous, soliciting Caunus.'

>> Videvi storie per tutto dipinte, In tra le qua' con più alto lavoro Della sposa di Nino ivi distinte L'opere tutte vide; e a piè del moro Piramo e Tisbe, e già le gelse tinte: E'l grand' Ercole vide tra costoro In grembo a Jole, e Bibli dolorosa Andar pregando Cauno pietosa.

Tes. vii. 63-66; cf. P. F. 260-280.

<< 'But, as she saw not Venus, it was told her P. F. 260. (Nor knew she by whom)--"In secreter Part of the temple stays she delighting. If thou wantest her, through that door quietly Enter." Wherefore she, without further demur, Meek of manner as she was, Approached thither to enter within, And do the embassy to her committed.

>> Ma non vedendo Vener, le fu detto, Nè conobbe da cui: 'In più sagreta Parte del tempio stassi ella a diletto: Se tu la vuoi, per quella porta, cheta Te n'entra': ond' essa, sanza altro rispetto, In abito qual era mansueta, Là si appressò per entrar dentro ad essa, E l'ambasciata fare a lei commessa.

<< 'But there she, at her first coming, P. F. 261. Found Riches guarding the portal-- Who seemed to her much to be reverenced: And, being by her allowed to enter there, The place was dark to her at first going. But afterwards, by staying, a little light She gained there; and saw her lying naked On a great bed very fair to see.

>> Ma essa lì nel primo suo venire Trovò Richezza la porta guardare; La qual le parve assai da riverire; E lasciata da lei quiv'entro entrare, Oscuro le fu il loco al primo gire; Ma poca luce poscia nello stare Lì prese, e vide lei nuda giacere Sopra un gran letto assai bella a vedere.

<< 'But she had hair of gold, and shining P. F. 267. Round her head without any tress. Her face was such that most people Have in comparison no beauty at all. The arms, breast, and outstanding apples, Were all seen; and every other part with a Texture so thin was covered That it shewed forth almost as [if] naked.

>> Ma avie d'oro i crini e rilucenti Intorno al capo sanza treccia alcuna: Il suo viso era tal che le più genti Hanno a rispetto bellezza nissuna: Le braccia, il petto e le poma eminenti Si vedien tutte, e ogni altra parte d'una Testa tanto sottil si ricopria, Che quasimente nuda comparia.

<< 'The neck was fragrant with full a thousand odours. P. F. 274. At one of her sides Bacchus was seated, At the other Ceres with her savours. And she in her hands held the apple, Delighting herself, which, to her sisters Preferred, she won in the Idean vale. And, having seen all this, she [the prayer] made her request, Which was conceded without denial.'

>> Olíva il collo ben di mille odori: Dall' un de' lati Bacco le sedea, Dall' altro Ceres cogli suoi savori: Ed essa il pomo per le man tenea, Sè dilettando, il quale alle sorori Prelata vinse nella valle Idea: E tutto ciò veduto posse il prego, Il qual fu conceduto senza niego.

At l. 298 we are introduced to a queen, who in l. 303 is said to be the noble goddess Nature. The general idea is taken from Aleyn's Pleynt of Kynde (l. 316), i. e. from the Planctus Naturae of Alanus de Insulis; see note to l. 298 of the poem. I here quote the most essential passage from the Anglo-Latin Satirical Poets, ed. T. Wright, ii. 437. It describes the garment worn by the goddess Nature, on which various birds were represented. The phrase animalium concilium may have suggested the name given by Chaucer to our poem. But see the remark on p. 75, l. 21.

'Haec autem [vestis] nimis subtilizata, subterfugiens oculorum indaginem, ad tantam materiae tenuitatem advenerat, ut ejus aerisque eandem crederes esse naturam, in qua, prout oculis pictura imaginabatur, animalium celebratur concilium. Illic aquila, primo juvenem, secundo senem, induens, tertio iterum reciprocata priorem, in Adonidem revertebatur a Nestore. Illic ancipiter (sic), civitatis praefectus aeriae, violenta tyrannide a subditis redditus exposcebat. Illic milvus, venatoris induens personam, venatione furtiva larvam gerebat ancipitris. Illic falco in ardeam bellum excitabat civile, non tamen aequali lance divisum. Non enim illud pugnae debet appellatione censeri, ubi tu pulsas, ego vapulo tantum. Illic struthio, vita seculari postposita, vitam solitariam agens, quasi heremita factus, desertarum solitudines incolebat. Illic olor, sui funeris praeco, mellitae citherizationis organo vitae prophetabat apocopam. Illic in pavone tantum pulcritudinis compluit Natura thesaurum, ut eam postea crederes mendicasse. Illic phoenix, in se mortuus, redivivus in alio, quodam Naturae miraculo, se sua morte a mortuis suscitabat. Illic avis concordiae (ciconia) prolem decimando Naturae persolvebat tributum. Illic passeres in atomum pygmeae humilitatis relegati degebant, grus ex opposito in giganteae quantitatis evadebat excessum.

'Illic phasianus, natalis insulae perpessus angustias, principum futurus deliciae, nostros evolabat in orbes. Illic gallus, tanquam vulgaris astrologus, suae vocis horologio horarum loquebatur discrimina. Illic gallus silvestris, privatioris galli deridens desidiam, peregre proficiscens, nemorales peragrabat provincias. Illic bubo, propheta miseriae, psalmodias funereae lamentationis praecinebat. Illic noctua tantae deformitatis sterquilinio sordescebat, ut in ejus formatione Naturam crederes fuisse somnolentam. Illic cornix, ventura prognosticans, nugatorio concitabatur garritu. Illic pica, dubio picturata colore, curam logices perennebat insomnem. Illic monedula, latrocinio laudabili reculas thesaurizans, innatae avaritiae argumenta monstrabat. Illic columba, dulci malo inebriata Diones, laborabat Cypridis in palaestra. Illic corvus, zelotypiae abhorrens dedecus, suos foetus non sua esse pignora fatebatur, usque dum comperto nigri argumento coloris, hoc quasi secum disputans comprobat. Illic perdix nunc aeriae potestatis insultus, nunc venatorum sophismata, nunc canum latratus propheticos abhorrebat. Illic anas cum ansere, sub eodem jure vivendi, hiemabat in patria fluviali. Illic turtur, suo viduata consorte, amorem epilogare dedignans, in altero bigamiae refutabat solatia. Illic psittacus cum sui gutturis incude vocis monetam fabricabat humanae. Illic coturnicem, figurae draconis ignorantem fallaciam, imaginariae vocis decipiebant sophismata. Illic picus, propriae architectus domunculae, sui rostri dolabro clausulam fabricabat in ilice. Illic curruca, novercam exuens, materno pietatis ubere alienam cuculi prolem adoptabat in filium; quae tamen capitali praemiata stipendio, privignum agnoscens, filium ignorabat. Illic hirundo, a sua peregrinatione reversa, sub trabe nidi lutabat hospitium. Illic philomena, deflorationis querelam reintegrans, harmoniaca tympanizans dulcedine, puritatis dedecus excusabat. Illic alauda, quasi nobilis citharista, non studii artificio, sed Naturae magisterio, musicae praedocta scientiam, citharam praesentabat in ore.... Haec animalia, quamvis illic quasi allegorice viverent, ibi tamen esse videbantur ad litteram.'

As to the date of this poem, Ten Brink (Studien, p. 127) shews that it must have been written later than 1373; and further, that it was probably written earlier than Troilus, which seems to have been finished in 1383. It may therefore have been written in 1382, in which case it may very well refer to the betrothal (in 1381) of King Richard II to Queen Anne of Bohemia. See, on this subject, Dr. Koch's discussion of the question in Essays on Chaucer, p. 407, published by the Chaucer Society. Prof. Ward (who follows Koch) in his Life of Chaucer, p. 86, says:--'Anne of Bohemia, daughter of the great Emperor Charles IV., and sister of King Wenceslas, had been successively betrothed to a Bavarian prince and to a Margrave of Meissen, before--after negotiations which, according to Froissart, lasted a year[261]--her hand was given to young King Richard II. of England. This sufficiently explains the general scope of the Assembly of Fowls, an allegorical poem written on or about St. Valentine's Day, 1381[262]--eleven months or nearly a year after which date the marriage took place[263].'

I here note that Lydgate's Flour of Curtesie is a palpable imitation of the Parliament of Foules; so also is the earlier part of his Complaint of the Black Knight.

On the other hand, it is interesting to find, in the Poésies de Marie de France, ed. Roquefort, Paris, 1820, that Fable 22 (vol. i. p. 130) is entitled:--'Li parlemens des Oiseax por faire Roi.' In this fable, the Birds reject the Cuckoo, and choose the Eagle as king.

§ 23. VI. A COMPLEINT TO HIS LADY.

We may fairly say that this poem is attributed to Chaucer by Shirley, since in MS. Harl. 78 it is copied out by him as if it were a continuation of the Complaint to Pity, and the pages are, throughout, headed with the words--'The Balade of Pytee. By Chauciers.' Stowe implies that he had seen more than one MS. copy of this poem, and says that 'these verses were compiled by Geffray Chauser,' for which he may have found authority in the MSS.[264] Moreover, the internal evidence settles the matter. It is evident that we have here a succession of metrical experiments, the last of which exhibits a ten-line stanza resembling the nine-line stanza of his Anelida; in fact, we here have that Complaint in a crude form, which was afterwards elaborated; see the references, in the Notes, to the corresponding passages in that poem. But a very great and unique interest is attached to lines 16 to 43. For here we have the sole example, in English literature of that period, of the use of terza rima, obviously copied from Dante; and Chaucer was the only writer who then had a real acquaintance with that author. I know of no other example of the use of this metre before the time of Lord Surrey and Sir Thomas Wiat, when Englishmen once more sought acquaintance with Italian poetry. Consequently, we have here the pleasure of seeing how Chaucer handled Dante's metre; and the two fragments here preserved shew that he might have handled it quite successfully if he had persevered in doing so.

It is to be regretted that Shirley's spelling is so indifferent; he was rather an amateur than a professional scribe. Some of his peculiarities may be noticed, as they occur not only here, but also in the two last pieces, nos. XXII. and XXIII. He constantly adds a final e in the wrong place, producing such forms fallethe, howe, frome, and the like, and drops it where it is necessary, as in hert (for herte). He is fond of eo for ee or long e, as in beo, neodethe. He writes ellas for allas; also e in place of the prefix y-, as in eknytte for y-knit. This last peculiarity is extremely uncommon. I have removed the odd effect which these vagaries produce, and I adopt the ordinary spelling of MSS. that resemble in type the Ellesmere MS. of the Canterbury Tales.

This piece exhibits three distinct metres, viz. the 7-line stanza, terza rima, and the 10-line stanza. Of the last, which is extremely rare, we have here the earliest example. Lines 56 and 59 are lost, and some others are imperfect.

§ 24. VII. ANELIDA AND ARCITE.

The genuineness of this poem is obvious enough, and is vouched for both by Lydgate and Shirley, as shewn above. It is further discussed in the Notes. I may add that Lydgate incidentally refers to it in his Complaint of the Black Knight, l. 379:--'Of Thebes eke the false Arcite.' Much later allusions are the following:--

'There was also Annelida the queene, Upon Arcite how sore she did complaine'; Assembly of Ladies, l. 465.

...... 'and the weimenting Of her Annelida, true as turtle-dove To Arcite fals.' Court of Love, l. 233.

The first three stanzas are from Boccaccio's Teseide, as shewn in the Notes; so also are stanzas 8, 9, and 10. Stanzas 4-7 are partly from Statius. The origin of ll. 71-210 is at present unknown. It is difficult to date this poem, but it must be placed after 1373, because of its quotations from the Teseide, or rather from Chaucer's own Palamon and Arcite. The mention of 'the quene of Ermony' in l. 72 suggests that Chaucer's thoughts may have been turned towards Armenia by the curious fact that, in 1384, the King of Armenia came to England about Christmas time, stayed two months, and was hospitably entertained by King Richard at Eltham; see Fabyan's Chronicles, ed. Ellis, p. 532. At an earlier time, viz. in 1362, Walsingham says that some knights of Armenia appeared at a tournament in Smithfield. In the Transactions of the Cambridge Philological Society, May 13, 1886, there is a short paper by Prof. Cowell, from which we learn that Mr. Bradshaw believed the name of Anelida to be identical 'with Anáhita ([Greek: Anaitis]), the ancient goddess of Persia and Armenia.... He supposed that Chaucer got the name Anelida from a misreading of the name Anaetidem or Anaetida in some Latin MS., the t being mistaken for l.' We must remember that Creseide represents a Greek accusative form [Greek: Chrusêida], of which the gen. [Greek: Chrusêidos] occurs in Homer, Il. i. 111; and perhaps the form Dalida (for Dalilah) in the Septuagint is also due to association with Greek accusatives in [Greek: -ida]. The genitive Anaetidos occurs in Pliny, xxxiii. 4; in Holland's translation of Pliny, ii. 470, she appears as 'the goddesse Diana syrnamed Anaitis.' It may be as well to explain to those who are unaccustomed to MSS. of the fourteenth century, that it was then usual to write e in place of ae or æ, so that the name would usually be written, in the accusative case, Anetida. This suggests that Anelida should be spelt with but one n; and such is the practice of all the better MSS.

It remains to be added that one source of the part of the poem called the Complaint (ll. 211-350) is the piece printed in this volume as no. VI. That piece is, in fact, a kind of exercise in metrical experiments, and exhibits specimens of a 10-line stanza, resembling the nine-line stanza of this Complaint. Chaucer seems to have elaborated this into a longer Complaint, with additional varieties in the metre; and then to have written the preceding story by way of introduction. One line (vi. 50) is repeated without alteration (vii. 237); another (vi. 35) is only altered in the first and last words (vii. 222). Other resemblances are pointed out in the Notes.

It is also worth while to notice how the character of the speaking falcon in the second part of the Squire's Tale is precisely that of Anelida. The parallel lines are pointed out in the Notes. The principal MSS. may be thus grouped: Aa.--F. B. Ab.--Tn. D. Lt. B.--Harl. Cx. Here A and B are two groups, of which the former is subdivided into A_a_ and A_b._ See Koch, in Anglia, iv. b. 102.

§ 25. VIII. CHAUCER'S WORDES UNTO ADAM.

This is evidently a genuine poem, written by the author of the translation of Boethius and of the story of Troilus.

§ 26. IX. THE FORMER AGE.

First printed in 1866, in Morris's Chaucer, from a transcript made by Mr. Bradshaw, who pointed out its genuineness. It is ascribed to Chaucer in both MSS., and belongs, in fact, to his translation of Boethius, though probably written at a later date. In MS. I. the poem is headed:--'Chawc_er_ vp-on this fyfte met_ur_ of the second book.' In MS. Hh., the colophon is: 'Finit Etas prima: Chaucers.' Dr. Koch thinks that the five poems here numbered IX. X. XIII-XV. 'form a cyclus, as it were, being free transcriptions of different passages in Boethius' Consolatio Philosophiae.' There is, in fact, a probability that these were all written at about the same period, and that rather a late one, some years after the prose translation of Boethius had been completed; and a probable date for this completion is somewhere about 1380.

Both MS. copies are from the same source, as both of them omit the same line, viz. l. 56; which I have had to supply by conjecture. Neither of the MSS. are well spelt, nor are they very satisfactory. The mistake in riming l. 47 with l. 43 instead of l. 45 may very well have been due to an oversight on the part of the poet himself. But the poem is a beautiful one, and admirably expressed; and its inclusion among the Minor Poems is a considerable gain.

Dr. Furnivall has printed the Latin text of Boethius, lib. ii. met. 5, from MS. I., as well as Chaucer's prose version of the same, for the sake of comparison with the text of the poem. The likeness hardly extends beyond the first four stanzas. I here transcribe that part of the prose version which is parallel to the poem, omitting a few sentences which do not appear there at all; for the complete text, see vol. ii.

'Blisful was the first age of men. They helden hem apayed with the metes that the trewe feldes broughten furthe. They ne distroyede nor deceivede not hem-self with outrage. They weren wont lightly to slaken hir hunger at even with acornes of okes. [Stanza 2.] They ne coude nat medly[265] the yifte of Bachus to the clere hony; that is to seyn, they coude make no piment nor clarree. [Stanza 3.] ... they coude nat deyen whyte fleeses[266] of Serien contree with the blode of a maner shelfisshe that men finden in Tyrie, with whiche blode men deyen purpur. [Stanza 6.] They slepen hoolsum slepes upon the gras, and dronken of the renninge wateres [cf. l. 8]; and layen under the shadwes of the heye pyn-trees. [Stanza 3, continued.] Ne no gest ne no straungere ne carf yit the heye see with ores or with shippes; ne they ne hadde seyn yit none newe strondes, to leden marchaundyse in-to dyverse contrees. Tho weren the cruel clariouns ful hust[267] and ful stille.... [Stanza 4.] For wherto or whiche woodnesse of enemys wolde first moeven armes, whan they seyen cruel woundes, ne none medes[268] be of blood y-shad[269]?... Allas! what was he that first dalf[270] up the gobetes[271] or the weightes of gold covered under erthe, and the precious stones that wolden han ben hid? He dalf up precious perils; ... for the preciousnesse of swiche thinge, hath many man ben in peril.'

The metre is the same as that of the ABC.

§ 27. X. FORTUNE.

Attributed to Chaucer by Shirley in MSS. A. and T.; also marked as Chaucer's in MSS. F. and I. In MS. I., this poem and the preceding are actually introduced into Chaucer's translation of Boethius, between the fifth metre and the sixth prose of the second book, as has been already said. The metre is the same as that of the ABC and The Former Age, but the same rimes run through three stanzas. The Envoy forms a 7-line stanza, but has only two rimes; the formula is ababbab. For further remarks, see the Notes.

§ 28. XI. MERCILES BEAUTE.

The unique copy of this poem is in MS. P[272]. It is the last poem in the MS., and is in excellent company, as it immediately follows several other of Chaucer's genuine poems[273]. This is probably why Bp. Percy attributed it to Chaucer, who himself tells us that he wrote 'balades, roundels, virelayes.' It is significant that Mätzner, in his Altenglische Sprachproben, i. 347, chose this poem alone as a specimen of the Minor Poems. It is, in fact, most happily expressed, and the internal evidence places its authenticity beyond question. The three roundels express three 'movements,' in the poet's usual manner; and his mastery of metre is shewn in the use of the same rime in -en-e in the first and third roundels, requiring no less than ten different words for the purpose; whilst in the second roundel the corresponding lines end in -eyn-e, producing much the same effect, if (as is probable) the old sounds of e and ey were not very different. We at once recognise the Chaucerian phrases I do no fors (see Cant. Ta. D 1234, 1512), and I counte him not a bene (see Troil. v. 363).

Very characteristic is the use of the dissyllabic word sen-e (l. 10), which is an adjective, and means 'manifest,' from the A. S. geséne, (gesýne), and not the past participle, which is y-seen. Chaucer rimes it with clen-e (Prol. to C. T. 134), and with gren-e (Kn. Tale, A 2298). The phrase though he sterve for the peyne (l. 23) reminds us of for to dyen in the peyne (Kn. Ta. A 1133).

But the most curious thing about this poem is the incidental testimony of Lydgate, in his Ballade in Commendacion of our Ladie; see poem no. 26 above, discussed at p. 38. I here quote st. 22 in full, from ed. 1561, fol. 330:

'Where might I loue euer better beset Then in this Lilie, likyng to beholde? That lace of loue, the bonde so well thou knit, That I maie see thee, or myne harte colde, And or I passe out of my daies olde, Tofore [thee] syngyng euermore vtterly-- Your iyen twoo woll slea me sodainly.'

I ought to add that this poem is the only one which I have admitted into the set of Minor Poems (nos. I-XX) with incomplete external evidence. If it is not Chaucer's, it is by some one who contrived to surpass him in his own style. And this is sufficient excuse for its appearance here.

Moreover, Lydgate's testimony is external evidence, in a high degree. Even the allusion in l. 27 to the Roman de la Rose points in the same direction; and so does Chaucer's statement that he wrote roundels. Excepting that in the Parl. of Foules, ll. 680-692, and the three here given, no roundels of his have ever been found[274].

§ 29. XII. TO ROSEMOUNDE.

This poem was discovered by me in the Bodleian Library on the 2nd of April, 1891. It is written on a fly-leaf at the end of MS. Rawlinson Poet. 163, which also contains a copy of Chaucer's Troilus. At the end of the 'Troilus' is the colophon: 'Here endith the book of Troylus and of Cresseyde.' This colophon is preceded by 'Tregentyll,' and followed by 'Chaucer.' On the next leaf (no. 114) is the Balade, without any title, at the foot of which is 'Tregentil'----'Chaucer,' the two names being written at a considerable distance apart. I believe 'Tregentil' to represent the name of the scribe[275]. In any case, 'Chaucer' represents the name of the author. It is a happy specimen of his humour.

§ 30. XIII. TRUTH.

This famous poem is attributed to Chaucer in MS. F., also (thrice) by Shirley, who in one of the copies in MS. T. (in which it occurs twice) calls it a 'Balade that Chaucier made on his deeth-bedde'; which is probably a mere bad guess[276]. The MSS. may be divided into two groups; the four best are in the first group, viz. At., E., Gg., Ct., and the rest (mostly) in the second group. Those of the first group have the readings Tempest (8), Know thy contree (19), and Hold the hye wey (20); whilst the rest have, in the same places, Peyne (8), Look up on hy (19), and Weyve thy lust (20). It is remarkable that the Envoy occurs in MS. At. only. It may have been suppressed owing to a misunderstanding of the word vache (cow), the true sense of which is a little obscure. The reference is to Boethius, bk. v. met. 5, where it is explained that quadrupeds look down upon the earth, whilst man alone looks up towards heaven; cf. lok up in l. 19 of the poem. The sense is therefore, that we should cease to look down, and learn to look up like true men; 'only the linage of man,' says Chaucer, in his translation of Boethius, 'heveth heyeste his heye heved[277] ... this figure amonesteth[278] thee, that axest the hevene with thy righte visage, and hast areysed thy fore-heved to beren up a-heigh thy corage, so that thy thoght ne be nat y-hevied[279] ne put lowe under fote.'

§ 31. XIV. GENTILESSE.

It is curious that this Balade not only occurs as an independent poem, as in MSS. T., Harl., Ct., and others, but is also quoted bodily in a poem by Henry Scogan in MS. A. It is attributed to Chaucer by Shirley in MSS. T. and Harl.; and still more satisfactory is the account given of it by Scogan. The title of Scogan's poem is:--'A moral balade made by Henry Scogan squyer. Here folowethe nexst a moral balade to my lorde the Prince, to my lord of Clarence, to my lord of Bedford, and to my lorde of Gloucestre; by Henry Scogan, at a souper of feorthe merchande (sic) in the vyntre in London, at the hous of Lowys Iohan.' It is printed in all the old editions of Chaucer; see poem no. 33, p. 32. Scogan tells us that he was 'fader,' i. e. tutor, to the four sons of Henry IV. above-mentioned[280]. His ballad is in twenty-one 8-line stanzas, and he inserts Chaucer's Gentilesse, distinguished by being in 7-line stanzas, between the 13th and 14th stanzas of his own work. He refers to Chaucer in the 9th stanza thus (in MS. A.):--

'My maistre Chaucier, God his soule have, That in his langage was so curyous, He saide that the fader, nowe dede and grave, Beqwathe no-thing his vertue with his hous Un-to his sone.'

This is a reference to ll. 16, 17 of Chaucer's poem. Again, in his 13th stanza, he says:--

'By auncetrye thus may yee no-thing clayme, As that my maistre Chaucier dothe expresse, But temporell thing, that man may hurte and mayme; Thane is gode stocke of vertuous noblesse; And, sithe that he is lord of blessednesse That made us alle, and for mankynde that dyed, Folowe his vertue with full besynesse; And of this thinge herke howe my maistre seyde.'

He here refers to lines 15-17, and lines 1-4 of Chaucer's poem; and then proceeds to quote it in full. Having done so, he adds:--

'Loo, here this noble poete of Brettayne Howe hyely he, in vertuouse sentence, The losse [MS. lesse] in youthe of vertue can compleyne.'

Scogan's advice is all good; and, though he accuses himself of having misspent his youth, this may very well mean no more than such an expression means in the mouth of a good man. He is doubtless the very person to whom Chaucer's 'Lenvoy a Scogan' was addressed, and Chaucer (l. 21) there gives him an excellent character for wisdom of speech. Accordingly, he is not to be confused with the Thomas Scogan or Scogin to whom is attributed an idle book called 'Scoggins Iests,' which were said to have been 'gathered' by Andrew Boord or Borde, author of the Introduction of Knowledge[281]. When Shakespeare, in 2 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 33, says that Sir John Falstaff broke Scogan's head, he was no doubt thinking of the supposed author of the jest-book, and may have been led, by observation of the name in a black-letter edition of Chaucer, to suppose that he lived in the time of Henry IV. This was quite enough for his purpose, though it is probable that the jester lived in the time of Edward IV.; see Tyrwhitt's note on the Envoy to Scogan. On the other hand, we find Ben Jonson taking his ideas about Scogan solely from Henry Scogan's poem and Chaucer's Envoy, without any reference to the jester. See his Masque of the Fortunate Isles, in which Scogan is first described and afterwards introduced. The description tells us nothing more than we know already.

As for Lewis John (p. 82), Tyrwhitt says he was a Welshman, 'who was naturalised by Act of Parliament, 2 Hen. V., and who was concerned with Thomas Chaucer in the execution of the office of chief butler; Rot. Parl. 2 Hen. V. n. 18.'

Caxton's printed edition of this poem seems to follow a better source than any of the MSS.

§ 32. XV. LAK OF STEDFASTNESSE.

Attributed to Chaucer by Shirley in MSS. Harl. and T., and sent to King Richard at Windsor, according to the same authority. The general idea of it is from Boethius; see the Notes. Shirley refers it to the last years of Richard II., say 1397-9. We find something very like it in Piers Plowman, C. iv. 203-210, where Richard is told that bribery and wicked connivance at extortion have almost brought it about--

'That no lond loveth the, and yut leest thyn owene.'

In any case, the date can hardly vary between wider limits than between 1393 and 1399. Richard held a tournament at Windsor in 1399[282], which was but thinly attended; 'the greater part of the knights and squires of England were disgusted with the king.'

Of this poem, MS. Ct. seems to give the best text.

§ 33. XVI. LENVOY A SCOGAN.

This piece is attributed to Chaucer in all three MSS., viz. F., P., and Gg.; and is obviously genuine. The probable date of it is towards the end of 1393; see the Notes.

For some account of Scogan, see above (p. 83).

§ 34. XVII. LENVOY A BUKTON.

This piece is certainly genuine. In MS. F., the title is--'Lenvoy de Chaucer a Bukton.' In Julian Notary's edition it is--'Here foloweth the counceyll of Chaucer touching Maryag, &c. whiche was sente te (sic) Bucketon, &c.' In all the other early printed editions it is inserted without any title immediately after the Book of the Duchess.

The poem is one of Chaucer's latest productions, and may safely be dated about the end of the year 1396. This appears from the reference, in l. 23, to the great misfortune it would be to any Englishmen 'to be take in Fryse,' i. e. to be taken prisoner in Friesland. There is but one occasion on which this reference could have had any point, viz. during or just after the expedition of William of Hainault to Friesland, as narrated by Froissart in his Chronicles, bk. iv. capp. 78, 79. He tells that William of Hainault applied to Richard II. for assistance, who sent him 'some men-at-arms and two hundred archers, under the command of three English lords[283].' The expedition set out in August, 1396, and stayed in Friesland about five weeks, till the beginning of October, when 'the weather began to be very cold and to rain almost daily.' The great danger of being taken prisoner in Friesland was because the Frieslanders fought so desperately that they were seldom taken prisoners themselves. Then 'the Frieslanders offered their prisoners in exchange, man for man; but, when their enemies had none to give in return, they put them to death.' Besides this, the prisoners had to endure all the miseries of a bad and cold season, in an inclement climate. Hence the propriety of Chaucer's allusion fully appears. From l. 8, we learn that Chaucer was now a widower; for the word eft means 'again.' His wife is presumed to have died in the latter part of 1387. We should also observe the allusion to the Wife of Bath's Tale in l. 29.

§ 35. XVIII. THE COMPLEYNT OF VENUS.

This poem is usually printed as if it formed part of the Complaint of Mars; but it is really distinct. It is attributed to Chaucer by Shirley both in MS. T. and in MS. A. It is not original, but translated from the French, as appears from l. 82. Shirley tells us that the author of the French poem was Sir Otes de Graunson, a worthy knight of Savoy. He is mentioned as receiving from King Richard the grant of an annuity of 126l. 13s. 4d. on 17 Nov. 1393; see Furnivall's Trial Forewords, p. 123. The association of this poem with the Complaint of Mars renders it probable that the Venus of this poem is the same as the Venus of the other, i. e. the Princess Isabel of Spain, and Duchess of York. This fits well with the word Princess at the beginning of the Envoy; and as she died in 1394, whilst Chaucer, on the other hand, complains of his advancing years, we must date the poem about 1393, i. e. just about the time when Graunson received his annuity. Chaucer, if born about 1340, was not really more than 53, but we must remember that, in those days, men often aged quickly. John of Gaunt, who is represented by Shakespeare as a very old man, only lived to the age of 59; and the Black Prince died quite worn out, at the age of 46. Compare the notes to ll. 73, 76, 79, and 82.

Much new light has lately been thrown upon this poem by Dr. A. Piaget, who contributed an article to Romania, tome xix., on 'Oton de Granson et ses Poésies,' in 1890. The author succeeded in discovering a large number of Granson's poems, including, to our great gain, the three Balades of which Chaucer's 'Compleynt of Venus' is a translation. I am thus enabled to give the original French beneath the English version, for the sake of comparison.

He has also given us an interesting account of Granson himself, for which I must refer my readers to his article. It appears that Froissart mentions Granson at least four times (twice in bk. i. c. 303, A.D. 1372, once in c. 305, and once in c. 331, A.D. 1379), as fighting on the side of the English; see Johnes' translation. He was in Savoy from 1389 to 1391; but, in the latter year, was accused of being concerned in the death of Amadeus VII., count of Savoy, in consequence of which he returned to England, and in 1393 his estates in Savoy were confiscated. It was on this occasion that Richard II. assigned to him the pension above mentioned. With the hope of clearing himself from the serious charge laid against him, Granson fought a judicial duel, at Bourg-en-Bresse, on Aug. 7, 1397, in which, however, he was slain.

Now that we have the original before us, we can see clearly, as Dr. Piaget says, that Chaucer has certainly not translated the original Balades 'word for word' throughout. He does so sometimes, as in ll. 27, 28, 30, 31, in which the closeness of the translation is marvellous; but, usually, he paraphrases the original to a considerable extent. In the first Balade, he has even altered the general motive; in the original, Granson sings the praises of his lady; in Chaucer, it is a lady who praises the worthiness of her lover.

It also becomes probable that the title 'The Compleynt of Venus,' which seems to have been suggested by Shirley, is by no means a fitting one. It is not suitable for Venus, unless the 'Venus' be a mortal; neither is it a continuous 'Compleynt,' being simply a linking together of three separate and distinct Balades.

It is clear to me that, when Chaucer added his Envoy, he made the difficulties of following the original 'word by word' and of preserving the original metre his excuse; and that what really troubled him was the difficulty of adapting the French, especially Balade I., so as to be acceptable to the 'Princess' who enjoined him to translate these Balades. In particular, he evidently aimed at giving them a sort of connection, so that one should follow the other naturally; which accounts for the changes in the first of them. It is significant, perhaps, that the allusion to 'youth' (F. jeunesce) in l. 70 is entirely dropped.

On the whole, I think we may still accept the theory that this poem was written at the request (practically, the command) of Isabel, duchess of York, the probable 'Venus' of the 'Compleynt of Mars.' Chaucer seems to have thrown the three Balades together, linking them so as to express a lady's constancy in love, and choosing such language as he deemed would be most acceptable to the princess. He then ingeniously, and not without some humour, protests that any apparent alterations are due to his own dulness and the difficulties of translating 'word for word,' and of preserving the rimes.

In l. 31, the F. text shews us that we must read Pleyne, not Pleye (as in the MSS.). This was pointed out by Mr. Paget Toynbee.

§ 36. XIX. THE COMPLEINT TO HIS PURSE.

Attributed to Chaucer by Shirley, in MS. Harl. 7333; by Caxton; by the scribes of MSS. F., P., and Ff.; and by early editors. I do not know on what grounds Speght removed Chaucer's name, and substituted that of T. Occleve; there seems to be no authority for this change. I think it highly probable that the poem itself is older than the Envoy; see note to l. 17. In any case, the Envoy is almost certainly Chaucer's latest extant composition.

§ 37. XX. PROVERBS.

Attributed to Chaucer in MSS. F. and Ha.; see further in the Notes. From the nature of the case, we cannot assign any probable date to this composition. Yet it was, perhaps, written after, rather than before, the Tale of Melibeus.

§ 38. XXI. AGAINST WOMEN UNCONSTAUNT.

For the genuineness of this Balade, we have chiefly the internal evidence to trust to; but this seems to me to be sufficiently strong. The Balade is perfect in construction, having but three rimes (-esse, -ace, -ene), and a refrain. The 'mood' of it strongly resembles that of Lak of Stedfastnesse; the lines run with perfect smoothness, and the rimes are all Chaucerian. It is difficult to suppose that Lydgate, or even Hoccleve, who was a better metrician, could have produced so good an imitation of Chaucer's style. But we are not without strong external evidence; for the general idea of the poem, and what is more important, the whole of the refrain, are taken from Chaucer's favourite author Machault (ed. Tarbé, p. 56); whose refrain is--'En lieu de bleu, Damë, vous vestez vert.' Again, the poem is only found in company with other poems by Chaucer. Such collocation frequently means nothing, but those who actually consult[284] MSS. Ct. and Ha. will see how close is its association with the Chaucerian poems in those MSS. I have said that it occurs in MSS. F., Ct., and Ha. Now in MS. Ct. we find, on the back of fol. 188 and on fol. 189, just four poems in the same hand. These are (1) Gentilesse; (2) Lak of Stedfastnesse; (3) Truth; and (4) Against Women Unconstaunt. As three of these are admittedly genuine, there is evidence that the fourth is the same. We may also notice that, in this MS., the poems on Lak of Stedfastnesse and Against Women Unconstaunt are not far apart. On searching MS. Ha. (Harl. 7578), I again found three of these poems in company, viz. (1) Gentilesse; (2) Lak of Stedfastnesse; and (3) Against Women Unconstaunt; the last being, in my view, precisely in its right place. (This copy of the poem was unknown to me in 1887.)

§ 39. XXII. AN AMOROUS COMPLAINT.

Whilst searching through the various MSS. containing Minor Poems by Chaucer in the British Museum, my attention was arrested by this piece, which, as far as I know, has never before been printed. It is in Shirley's handwriting, but he does not claim it for Chaucer. However, the internal evidence seems to me irresistible; the melody is Chaucer's, and his peculiar touches appear in it over and over again. There is, moreover, in the last stanza, a direct reference to the Parliament of Foules[285].

I cannot explain the oracular notice of time in the heading; even if we alter May to day, it contradicts l. 85, which mentions 'seint Valentines day.' The heading is--'And next folowyng begynnith an amerowse compleynte made at wyndesore in the laste May tofore Nouembre' (sic). The date is inexplicable[286]; but the mention of locality is interesting. Chaucer became a 'valet of the king's chamber' in 1367, and must frequently have been at Windsor, where the institution of the Order of the Garter was annually celebrated on St. George's Day (April 23). Some of the parallelisms in expression between the present poem and other passages in Chaucer's Works are pointed out in the Notes.

This Complaint should be compared with the complaint uttered by Dorigen in the Cant. Tales, F. 1311-1325, which is little else than the same thing in a compressed form. There is also much resemblance to the 'complaints' in Troilus; see the references in the Notes.

Since first printing the text in 1888, I found that it is precisely the same poem as one extant in MSS. F. and B., with the title 'Complaynt Damours.' I had noticed the latter some time previously, and had made a note that it ought to be closely examined; but unfortunately I forgot to do so, or I should have seen at once that it had strong claims to being considered genuine. These claims are considerably strengthened by the fact of the appearance of the poem in these two Chaucerian MSS., the former of which contains no less than sixteen, and the latter seven of the Minor Poems, besides the Legend and the Hous of Fame.

In reprinting the text in the present volume, I take occasion to give all the more important results of a collation of the text with these MSS. In most places, their readings are inferior to those in the text; but in other places they suggest corrections.

In MS. F. the fourth stanza is mutilated; the latter half of lines 24-28 is missing.

In B., below the word Explicit, another and later hand has scrawled 'be me Humfrey Flemy_ng_.' 'Be me' merely means--'this signature is mine.' It is a mere scribble, and does not necessarily relate to the poem at all.

The readings of F. and B. do not help us much; for the text in Harl., on the whole, is better.

It is not at all improbable that a better copy of this poem may yet be found.

§ 40. XXIII. BALADE OF COMPLEYNT.

This poem, which has not been printed before, as far as I am aware, occurs in Shirley's MS. Addit. 16165, at fol. 256, back. It is merely headed 'Balade of compleynte,' without any note of its being Chaucer's. But I had not read more than four lines of it before I at once recognised the well-known melodious flow which Chaucer's imitators (except sometimes Hoccleve) so seldom succeed in reproducing. And when I had only finished reading the first stanza, I decided at once to copy it out, not doubting that it would fulfil all the usual tests of metre, rime, and language; which it certainly does. It is far more correct in wording than the preceding poem, and does not require that we should either omit or supply a single word. But in l. 20 the last word should surely be dere rather than here; and the last word in l. 11 is indistinct. I read it as reewe afterwards altered to newe; and newe makes very good sense. I may notice that Shirley's n's are very peculiar: the first upstroke is very long, commencing below the line; and this peculiarity renders the reading tolerably certain. Some lines resemble lines in no. VI., as is pointed out in the Notes. Altogether, it is a beautiful poem, and its recovery is a clear gain.

§ 41. CONCLUDING REMARKS.

I regret that this Introduction has run to so great a length; but it was incumbent on me to shew reasons for the rejection or acceptance of the very large number of pieces which have hitherto been included in editions of Chaucer's Works. I have now only to add that I have, of course, been greatly indebted to the works of others; so much so indeed that I can hardly particularise them. I must, however, mention very gratefully the names of Dr. Furnivall, Professor Ten Brink, Dr. Koch, Dr. Willert, Max Lange, Rambeau, and various contributors to the publications of the Chaucer Society; and though I have consulted for myself such books as Le Roman de la Rose, the Teseide, the Thebaid of Statius, the poems of Machault, and a great many more, and have inserted in the Notes a large number of references which I discovered, or re-discovered, for myself, I beg leave distinctly to disclaim any merit, not doubting that most of what I have said may very likely have been said by others, and said better. Want of leisure renders it impossible for me to give to others their due meed of recognition in many instances; for I have often found it less troublesome to consult original authorities for myself than to hunt up what others have said relative to the passage under consideration.

I have relegated Poems no. XXI., XXII., and XXIII. to an Appendix, because they are not expressly attributed to Chaucer in the MSS. Such evidence has its value, but it is possible to make too much of it; and I agree with Dr. Koch, that, despite the MSS., the genuineness of no XX. is doubtful; for the rime of compas with embrace is suspicious. It is constantly the case that poems, well known to be Chaucer's, are not marked as his in the MS. copies; and we must really depend upon a prolonged and intelligent study of the internal evidence. This is why I admit poems nos. XXI-XXIII into the collection; and I hope it will be conceded that I am free from recklessness in this matter. Certainly my methods differ from those of John Stowe, and I believe them to be more worthy of respect.

* * * * *

THE ROMAUNT OF THE ROSE.

<< FRAGMENT A.

Many men seyn that in sweveninges Ther nis but fables and lesinges; But men may somme swevenes seen, Which hardely ne false been, But afterward ben apparaunte. 5 This may I drawe to waraunte An authour, that hight Macrobes, That halt not dremes false ne lees, But undoth us the avisioun That whylom mette king Cipioun. 10 And who-so sayth, or weneth it be A Iape, or elles [a] nycetee To wene that dremes after falle, Let who-so liste a fool me calle.

>> LE ROMAN DE LA ROSE.

Maintes gens dient que en songes N'a se fables non et mençonges; Mais l'en puet tiex songes songier Qui ne sunt mie mençongier; Ains sunt après bien apparant. Si en puis bien trere à garant Ung acteur qui ot non Macrobes, Qui ne tint pas songes à lobes; Ainçois escrist la vision Qui avint au roi Cipion. 10 Quiconques cuide ne qui die Que soit folor ou musardie De croire que songes aviengne, Qui ce voldra, pour fol m'en tiengne;

<< For this trowe I, and say for me, 15 That dremes signifiaunce be Of good and harme to many wightes, That dremen in her slepe a-nightes Ful many thinges covertly, That fallen after al openly. 20 Within my twenty yere of age, THE DREAM. Whan that Love taketh his corage Of yonge folk, I wente sone To bedde, as I was wont to done, And fast I sleep; and in sleping, 25 Me mette swiche a swevening, That lykede me wonders wel; But in that sweven is never a del That it nis afterward befalle, Right as this dreem wol telle us alle. 30 Now this dreem wol I ryme aright, To make your hertes gaye and light; For Love it prayeth, and also Commaundeth me that it be so And if ther any aske me, 35 Whether that it be he or she, How [that] this book [the] which is here Shal hote, that I rede you here;

>> Car endroit moi ai-je fiance Que songe soit senefiance Des biens as gens et des anuiz, Car li plusors songent de nuitz Maintes choses couvertement Que l'en voit puis apertement. 20 Où vintiesme an de mon aage, Où point qu'Amors prend le paage Des jones gens, couchiez estoie Une nuit, si cum je souloie, Et me dormoie moult forment, Si vi ung songe en mon dormant, Qui moult fut biax, et moult me plot, Mès onques riens où songe n'ot Qui avenu trestout ne soit, Si cum li songes recontoit. 30 Or veil cel songe rimaier, Por vos cuers plus fere esgaier, Qu'Amors le me prie et commande; Et se nus ne nule demande Comment ge voil que cilz Rommanz Soit apelez, que ge commanz:

<< It is the Romance of the Rose, In which al the art of love I close. 40 The mater fair is of to make; God graunte in gree that she it take For whom that it begonnen is! And that is she that hath, y-wis, So mochel prys; and ther-to she 45 So worthy is biloved be, That she wel oughte of prys and right, Be cleped Rose of every wight. That it was May me thoughte tho, It is fyve yere or more ago; 50 That it was May, thus dremed me, In tyme of love and Iolitee, That al thing ginneth waxen gay, For ther is neither busk nor hay In May, that it nil shrouded been, 55 And it with newe leves wreen. These wodes eek recoveren grene, That drye in winter been to sene; And the erthe wexeth proud withalle, For swote dewes that on it falle, 60 And [al] the pore estat forget In which that winter hadde it set,

>> Ce est li Rommanz de la Rose, Où l'art d'Amors est tote enclose. La matire en est bone et noeve: Or doint Diez qu'en gré le reçoeve 40 Cele por qui ge l'ai empris. C'est cele qui tant a de pris, Et tant est digne d'estre amée, Qu'el doit estre Rose clamée. Avis m'iere qu'il estoit mains, Il a jà bien cincq ans, au mains, En Mai estoie, ce songoie, El tems amoreus plain de joie, El tens où tote riens s'esgaie, Que l'en ne voit boisson ne haie 50 Qui en Mai parer ne se voille, Et covrir de novele foille; Li bois recovrent lor verdure, Qui sunt sec tant cum yver dure, La terre méisme s'orgoille Por la rousée qui la moille, Et oblie la poverté Où ele a tot l'yver esté.

<< And than bicometh the ground so proud That it wol have a newe shroud, And maketh so queynt his robe and fayr 65 That it hath hewes an hundred payr Of gras and floures, inde and pers, And many hewes ful dyvers: That is the robe I mene, y-wis, Through which the ground to preisen is. 70 The briddes, that han left hir song, Whyl they han suffred cold so strong In wedres grille, and derk to sighte, Ben in May, for the sonne brighte, So glade, that they shewe in singing, 75 That in hir herte is swich lyking, That they mote singen and be light. Than doth the nightingale hir might To make noyse, and singen blythe. Than is blisful, many a sythe, 80 The chelaundre and the papingay. Than yonge folk entenden ay For to ben gay and amorous, The tyme is than so savorous. Hard is his herte that loveth nought 85 In May, whan al this mirth is wrought;

>> Lors devient la terre si gobe, Qu'ele volt avoir novele robe; 60 Si scet si cointe robe faire, Que de colors i a cent paire, D'erbes, de flors indes et perses, Et de maintes colors diverses. C'est la robe que ge devise, Por quoi la terre miex se prise. Li oisel, qui se sunt téu Tant cum il ont le froit éu, Et le tens divers et frarin, Sunt en Mai, por le tens serin, 70 Si lié qu'il monstrent en chantant Qu'en lor cuer a de joie tant, Qu'il lor estuet chanter par force. Li rossignos lores s'efforce De chanter et de faire noise; Lors s'esvertue, et lors s'envoise Li papegaus et la kalandre: Lors estuet jones gens entendre A estre gais et amoreus Por le tens bel et doucereus. 80 Moult a dur cuer qui en Mai n'aime,

<< Whan he may on these braunches here The smale briddes singen clere Hir blisful swete song pitous; And in this sesoun delytous, 90 Whan love affrayeth alle thing, Me thoughte a-night, in my sleping, Right in my bed, ful redily, That it was by the morowe erly, And up I roos, and gan me clothe; 95 Anoon I wissh myn hondes bothe; A sylvre nedle forth I drogh Out of an aguiler queynt y-nogh, And gan this nedle threde anon; For out of toun me list to gon 100 The sowne of briddes for to here, That on thise busshes singen clere. And in the swete sesoun that leef is, With a threde basting my slevis, Aloon I wente in my playing, 105 The smale foules song harkning; That peyned hem ful many a payre To singe on bowes blosmed fayre. Iolif and gay, ful of gladnesse,

>> Quant il ot chanter sus la raime As oisiaus les dous chans piteus. En iceli tens déliteus, Que tote riens d'amer s'effroie, Sonjai une nuit que j'estoie, Ce m'iert avis en mon dormant, Qu'il estoit matin durement; De mon lit tantost me levai, Chauçai moi et mes mains lavai. 90 Lors trais une aguille d'argent D'un aguiller mignot et gent, Si pris l'aguille à enfiler. Hors de vile oi talent d'aler, Por oïr des oisiaus les sons Qui chantoient par ces boissons. En icele saison novele, Cousant mes manches à videle, M'en alai tot seus esbatant, Et les oiselés escoutant, 100 Qui de chanter moult s'engoissoient Par ces vergiers qui florissoient. Jolis, gais et plains de léesce,

<< Toward a river I gan me dresse, 110 That I herde renne faste by; For fairer playing non saugh I Than playen me by that riveer, For from an hille that stood ther neer, Cam doun the streem ful stif and bold. 115 Cleer was the water, and as cold As any welle is, sooth to seyne; And somdel lasse it was than Seine, But it was straighter wel away. And never saugh I, er that day, 120 The water that so wel lyked me; And wonder glad was I to see That lusty place, and that riveer; And with that water that ran so cleer My face I wissh. Tho saugh I wel 125 The botme paved everydel With gravel, ful of stones shene. The medewe softe, swote, and grene, Beet right on the water-syde. Ful cleer was than the morow-tyde, 130 And ful attempre, out of drede. Tho gan I walke through the mede, Dounward ay in my pleying,

>> Vers une riviere m'adresce. Que j'oi près d'ilecques bruire; Car ne me soi aillors déduire Plus bel que sus cele riviere. D'ung tertre qui près d'iluec iere Descendoit l'iaue grant et roide, Clere, bruiant, et aussi froide 110 Comme puiz, ou comme fontaine, Et estoit poi mendre de Saine, Mès qu'ele iere plus espanduë. Onques mès n'avoie véuë Cele iaue qui si bien coroit: Moult m'abelissoit et séoit A regarder le leu plaisant. De l'iaue clere et reluisant Mon vis rafreschi et lavé. Si vi tot covert et pavé 120 Le fons de l'iaue de gravele; La praérie grant et bele Très au pié de l'iaue batoit. Clere et serie et bele estoit La matinée et atrempeé; Lors m'en alai parmi la prée Contre val l'iaue esbanoiant,

<< The river-syde costeying. And whan I had a whyle goon, 135 I saugh a GARDIN right anoon, THE GARDEN. Ful long and brood, and everydel Enclos it was, and walled wel, With hye walles enbatailled, Portrayed without, and wel entailled 140 With many riche portraitures; And bothe images and peyntures Gan I biholde bisily. And I wol telle you, redily, Of thilke images the semblaunce, 145 As fer as I have remembraunce. A-midde saugh I HATE stonde, HATE. That for hir wrathe, ire, and onde, Semed to been a moveresse, An angry wight, a chideresse; 150 And ful of gyle, and fel corage, By semblaunt was that ilke image. And she was no-thing wel arrayed, But lyk a wood womman afrayed; Y-frounced foule was hir visage, 155 And grenning for dispitous rage; Hir nose snorted up for tene.

>> Tot le rivage costoiant. Quant j'oi ung poi avant alé, Si vi ung vergier grant et lé, 130 Tot clos d'ung haut mur bataillié, Portrait defors et entaillié A maintes riches escritures. Les ymages et les paintures Ai moult volentiers remiré: Si vous conteré et diré De ces ymages la semblance, Si cum moi vient à remembrance. Ens où milieu je vi HAÏNE HAÏNE. Qui de corrous et d'ataïne 140 Sembloit bien estre moverresse, Et correceuse et tencerresse, Et plaine de grant cuvertage Estoit par semblant cele ymage. Si n'estoit pas bien atornée, Ains sembloit estre forcenée, Rechignie avoit et froncié Le vis, et le nés secorcié.

<< Ful hidous was she for to sene, Ful foul and rusty was she, this. Hir heed y-writhen was, y-wis, 160 Ful grimly with a greet towayle. An image of another entayle, FELONYE. A lift half, was hir faste by; Hir name above hir heed saugh I, And she was called FELONYE. 165 Another image, that VILANYE VILANYE. Y-cleped was, saugh I and fond Upon the walle on hir right hond. Vilanye was lyk somdel That other image; and, trusteth wel, 170 She semed a wikked creature. By countenaunce, in portrayture, She semed be ful despitous, And eek ful proud and outrageous. Wel coude he peynte, I undertake, 175 That swiche image coude make. Ful foul and cherlish semed she, And eek vilaynous for to be, And litel coude of norture, To worshipe any creature. 180

>> Par grant hideur fu soutilliée, Et si estoit entortillée 150 Hideusement d'une toaille. Une autre ymage d'autel taille FELONNIE. A senestre vi delez lui; Son non desus sa teste lui; Apellée estoit FELONNIE. Une ymage qui VILONIE VILENNIE. Avoit non, revi devers destre, Qui estoit auques d'autel estre Cum ces deus et d'autel féture; Bien sembloit male créature, 160 Et despiteuse et orguilleuse, Et mesdisant et ramponeuse. Moult sot bien paindre et bien portraire Cil qui tiex ymages sot faire: Car bien sembloit chose vilaine, De dolor et de despit plaine; Et fame qui petit séust D'honorer ceus qu'ele déust.

<< And next was peynted COVEITYSE, COVEITYSE. That eggeth folk, in many gyse, To take and yeve right nought ageyn, And grete tresours up to leyn. And that is she that for usure 185 Leneth to many a creature The lasse for the more winning, So coveitous is her brenning. And that is she, for penyes fele, That techeth for to robbe and stele 190 These theves, and these smale harlotes; And that is routhe, for by hir throtes Ful many oon hangeth at the laste. She maketh folk compasse and caste To taken other folkes thing, 195 Through robberie, or miscounting. And that is she that maketh trechoures; And she [that] maketh false pledoures, That with hir termes and hir domes Doon maydens, children, and eek gromes 200 Hir heritage to forgo. Ful croked were hir hondes two; For Coveityse is ever wood

>> Après fu painte COVEITISE: COUVOITISE. C'est cele qui les gens atise 170 De prendre et de noient donner, Et les grans avoirs aüner. C'est cele qui fait à usure Prester mains por la grant ardure D'avoir conquerre et assembler. C'est cele qui semont d'embler Les larrons et les ribaudiaus; Si est grans pechiés et grans diaus Qu'en la fin en estuet mains pendre. C'est cele qui fait l'autrui prendre, 180 Rober, tolir et bareter, Et bescochier et mesconter; C'est cele qui les trichéors Fait tous et les faus pledéors, Qui maintes fois par lor faveles Ont as valés et as puceles Lor droites herites toluës. Recorbillies et croçües Avoit les mains icele ymage; Ce fu drois: car toz jors esrage 190 Coveitise de l'autrui prendre.

<< To grypen other folkes good. Coveityse, for hir winning, 205 Ful leef hath other mennes thing. Another image set saugh I AVARICE. Next Coveityse faste by, And she was cleped AVARICE. Ful foul in peynting was that vice; 210 Ful sad and caytif was she eek, And al-so grene as any leek. So yvel hewed was hir colour, Hir semed have lived in langour. She was lyk thing for hungre deed, 215 That ladde hir lyf only by breed Kneden with eisel strong and egre; And therto she was lene and megre. And she was clad ful povrely, Al in an old torn courtepy, 220 As she were al with dogges torn; And bothe bihinde and eek biforn Clouted was she beggarly. A mantel heng hir faste by, Upon a perche, weyke and smalle; 225 A burnet cote heng therwithalle, Furred with no menivere,

>> Coveitise ne set entendre A riens qu'à l'autrui acrochier; Coveitise à l'autrui trop chier. Une autre ymage y ot assise AVARICE. Coste à coste de Coveitise, AVARICE estoit apelée: Lede estoit et sale et foulée Cele ymage, et megre et chetive, Et aussi vert cum une cive. 200 Tant par estoit descolorée Qu'el sembloit estre enlangorée; Chose sembloit morte de fain, Qui ne vesquit fors que de pain Petri à lessu fort et aigre; Et avec ce qu'ele iere maigre, Iert-ele povrement vestuë, Cote avoit viés et desrumpuë, Comme s'el fust as chiens remese; Povre iert moult la cote et esrese, 210 Et plaine de viés palestiaus. Delez li pendoit ung mantiaus A une perche moult greslete, Et une cote de brunete; Où mantiau n'ot pas penne vaire,

<< But with a furre rough of here, Of lambe-skinnes hevy and blake; It was ful old, I undertake. 230 For Avarice to clothe hir wel Ne hasteth hir, never a del; For certeynly it were hir loth To weren ofte that ilke cloth; And if it were forwered, she 235 Wolde have ful greet necessitee Of clothing, er she boughte hir newe, Al were it bad of wolle and hewe. This Avarice held in hir hande A purs, that heng [doun] by a bande; 240 And that she hidde and bond so stronge, Men must abyde wonder longe Out of that purs er ther come ought, For that ne cometh not in hir thought; It was not, certein, hir entente 245 That fro that purs a peny wente. And by that image, nygh y-nough, ENVYE. Was peynt ENVYE, that never lough, Nor never wel in herte ferde But-if she outher saugh or herde 250

>> Mes moult viés et de povre afaire, D'agniaus noirs velus et pesans. Bien avoit la robe vingt ans; Mès Avarice du vestir Se sot moult à tart aatir: 220 Car sachiés que moult li pesast Se cele robe point usast; Car s'el fust usée et mauvese, Avarice éust grant mesese De noeve robe et grant disete, Avant qu'ele éust autre fete. Avarice en sa main tenoit Une borse qu'el reponnoit, Et la nooit si durement, Que demorast moult longuement 230 Ainçois qu'el en péust riens traire, Mès el n'avoit de ce que faire. El n'aloit pas à ce béant Que de la borse ostat néant. Après refu portrete ENVIE, ENVIE. Qui ne rist oncques en sa vie, N'oncques de riens ne s'esjoï, S'ele ne vit, ou s'el n'oï

<< Som greet mischaunce, or greet disese. No-thing may so moch hir plese As mischef and misaventure; Or whan she seeth discomfiture Upon any worthy man falle, 255 Than lyketh hir [ful] wel withalle. She is ful glad in hir corage, If she see any greet linage Be brought to nought in shamful wyse. And if a man in honour ryse, 260 Or by his witte, or by prowesse, Of that hath she gret hevinesse; For, trusteth wel, she goth nigh wood Whan any chaunce happeth good. Envye is of swich crueltee, 265 That feith ne trouthe holdeth she To freend ne felawe, bad or good. Ne she hath kin noon of hir blood, That she nis ful hir enemy; She nolde, I dar seyn hardely, 270 Hir owne fader ferde wel. And sore abyeth she everydel Hir malice, and hir maltalent:

>> Aucun grant domage retrere. Nule riens ne li puet tant plere 240 Cum mefet et mesaventure; Quant el voit grant desconfiture Sor aucun prodomme chéoir, Ice li plest moult à véoir. Ele est trop lie en son corage Quant el voit aucun grant lignage Dechéoir et aler à honte; Et quant aucuns à honor monte Par son sens ou par sa proéce, C'est la chose qui plus la bléce. 250 Car sachiés que moult la convient Estre irée quant biens avient. Envie est de tel cruauté, Qu'ele ne porte léauté A compaignon, ne à compaigne; N'ele n'a parent, tant li tiengne, A cui el ne soit anemie: Car certes el ne vorroit mie Que biens venist, neis à son pere. Mès bien sachiés qu'ele compere 260 Sa malice trop ledement:

<< For she is in so greet turment And hath such [wo], whan folk doth good, 275 That nigh she melteth for pure wood; Hir herte kerveth and to-breketh That god the peple wel awreketh. Envye, y-wis, shal never lette Som blame upon the folk to sette. 280 I trowe that if Envye, y-wis, Knewe the beste man that is On this syde or biyond the see, Yit somwhat lakken him wolde she. And if he were so hende and wys, 285 That she ne mighte al abate his prys, Yit wolde she blame his worthinesse, Or by hir wordes make it lesse. I saugh Envye, in that peynting, Hadde a wonderful loking; 290 For she ne loked but awry, Or overthwart, al baggingly. And she hadde [eek] a foul usage; She mighte loke in no visage Of man or womman forth-right pleyn, 295 But shette oon yë for disdeyn;

>> Car ele est en si grant torment, Et a tel duel quant gens bien font, Par ung petit qu'ele ne font. Ses felons cuers l'art et detrenche, Qui de li Diex et la gent venche. Envie ne fine nule hore D'aucun blasme as gens metre sore; Je cuit que s'ele cognoissoit Tot le plus prodome qui soit 270 Ne deçà mer, ne delà mer, Si le vorroit-ele blasmer; Et s'il iere si bien apris Qu'el ne péust de tot son pris Rien abatre ne deprisier, Si vorroit-ele apetisier Sa proéce au mains, et s'onor Par parole faire menor. Lors vi qu'Envie en la painture Avoit trop lede esgardéure; 280 Ele ne regardast noient Fors de travers en borgnoiant; Ele avoit ung mauvès usage, Qu'ele ne pooit où visage Regarder reins de plain en plaing, Ains clooit ung oel par desdaing,

<< So for envye brenned she Whan she mighte any man [y]-see, That fair, or worthy were, or wys, Or elles stood in folkes prys. 300 SOROWE was peynted next Envye SOROWE. Upon that walle of masonrye. But wel was seen in hir colour That she hadde lived in langour; Hir semed have the Iaunyce. 305 Nought half so pale was Avaryce, Nor no-thing lyk, [as] of lenesse; For sorowe, thought, and greet distresse, That she hadde suffred day and night Made hir ful yelwe, and no-thing bright, 310 Ful fade, pale, and megre also. Was never wight yit half so wo As that hir semed for to be, Nor so fulfilled of ire as she. I trowe that no wight mighte hir plese, 315 Nor do that thing that mighte hir ese; Nor she ne wolde hir sorowe slake, Nor comfort noon unto hir take;

>> Qu'ele fondoit d'ire et ardoit, Quant aucuns qu'ele regardoit, Estoit ou preus, ou biaus, ou gens, Ou amés, ou loés de gens. 290 Delez Envie auques près iere TRISTESSE. TRISTECE painte en la maisiere; Mès bien paroit à sa color Qu'ele avoit au cuer grant dolor, Et sembloit avoir la jaunice. Si n'i feïst riens Avarice Ne de paleur, ne de mégrece, Car li soucis et la destrece, Et la pesance et les ennuis Qu'el soffroit de jors et de nuis, 300 L'avoient moult fete jaunir, Et megre et pale devenir. Oncques mès nus en tel martire Ne fu, ne n'ot ausinc grant ire Cum il sembloit que ele éust: Je cuit que nus ne li séust Faire riens qui li péust plaire: N'el ne se vosist pas retraire, Ne réconforter à nul fuer Du duel qu'ele avoit à son cuer. 310

<< So depe was hir wo bigonnen, And eek hir herte in angre ronnen, 320 A sorowful thing wel semed she. Nor she hadde no-thing slowe be For to forcracchen al hir face, And for to rende in many place Hir clothes, and for to tere hir swire, 325 As she that was fulfilled of ire; And al to-torn lay eek hir here Aboute hir shuldres, here and there, As she that hadde it al to-rent For angre and for maltalent. 330 And eek I telle you certeynly How that she weep ful tenderly. In world nis wight so hard of herte That hadde seen hir sorowes smerte, That nolde have had of hir pitee, 335 So wo-bigoon a thing was she. She al to-dasshte hir-self for wo, And smoot togider her handes two. To sorwe was she ful ententyf, That woful recchelees caityf; 340 Hir roughte litel of pleying, Or of clipping or [of] kissing; For who-so sorweful is in herte

>> Trop avoit son cuer correcié, Et son duel parfont commencié. Moult sembloit bien qu'el fust dolente, Qu'ele n'avoit mie esté lente D'esgratiner tote sa chiere; N'ele n'avoit pas sa robe chiere, Ains l'ot en mains leus descirée Cum cele qui moult iert irée. Si cheveul tuit destrecié furent, Et espandu par son col jurent, 320 Que les avoit trestous desrous De maltalent et de corrous. Et sachiés bien veritelment Qu'ele ploroit profondément: Nus, tant fust durs, ne la véist, A cui grant pitié n'en préist, Qu'el se desrompoit et batoit, Et ses poins ensemble hurtoit. Moult iert à duel fere ententive La dolereuse, la chetive; 330 Il ne li tenoit d'envoisier, Ne d'acoler, ne de baisier: Car cil qui a le cuer dolent,

<< Him liste not to pleye ne sterte, Nor for to daunsen, ne to singe, 345 Ne may his herte in temper bringe To make Ioye on even or morowe; For Ioye is contraire unto sorowe. ELDE was peynted after this, ELDE. That shorter was a foot, ywis, 350 Than she was wont in her yonghede. Unnethe hir-self she mighte fede; So feble and eek so old was she That faded was al hir beautee. Ful salowe was waxen hir colour, 355 Hir heed for-hoor was, whyt as flour. Y-wis, gret qualm ne were it noon, Ne sinne, although hir lyf were gon. Al woxen was hir body unwelde, And drye, and dwyned al for elde. 360 A foul forwelked thing was she That whylom round and softe had be. Hir eres shoken fast withalle, As from her heed they wolde falle. Hir face frounced and forpyned, 365 And bothe hir hondes lorn, fordwyned.

>> Sachiés de voir, il n'a talent De dancier, ne de karoler, Ne nus ne se porroit moller Qui duel éust, à joie faire, Car duel et joie sont contraire. Après fu VIELLECE portraite, VIEILLESSE. Qui estoit bien ung pié retraite 340 De tele cum el soloit estre; A paine se pooit-el pestre, Tant estoit vielle et radotée. Bien estoit si biauté gastée, Et moult ert lede devenuë. Toute sa teste estoit chenuë, Et blanche cum s'el fust florie. Ce ne fut mie grant morie S'ele morust, ne grans pechiés, Car tous ses cors estoit sechiés 350 De viellece et anoiantis: Moult estoit jà ses vis fletris, Qui jadis fut soef et plains; Mès or est tous de fronces plains, Les oreilles avoit mossues, Et trestotes les dents perdues, Si qu'ele n'en avoit neis une. Tant par estoit de grant viellune,

<< So old she was that she ne wente A foot, but it were by potente. The TYME, that passeth night and day, TIME. And restelees travayleth ay, 370 And steleth from us so prively, That to us seemeth sikerly That it in oon point dwelleth ever, And certes, it ne resteth never, But goth so faste, and passeth ay, 375 That ther nis man that thinke may What tyme that now present is: Asketh at these clerkes this; For [er] men thinke it redily, Three tymes been y-passed by. 380 The tyme, that may not soiourne, But goth, and never may retourne, As water that doun renneth ay, But never drope retourne may; Ther may no-thing as tyme endure, 385 Metal, nor erthely creature; For alle thing it fret and shal: The tyme eek, that chaungeth al, And al doth waxe and fostred be, And alle thing distroyeth he: 390

>> Qu'el n'alast mie la montance De quatre toises sans potance. 360 Li tens qui s'en va nuit et jor, Sans repos prendre et sans sejor, Et qui de nous se part et emble Si celéement, qu'il nous semble Qu'il s'arreste adés en ung point, Et il ne s'i arreste point, Ains ne fine de trepasser, Que nus ne puet néis penser Quex tens ce est qui est présens; Sel' demandés as clers lisans, 370 Ainçois que l'en l'éust pensé, Seroit-il jà trois tens passé. Li tens qui ne puet sejourner, Ains vait tous jors sans retorner, Cum l'iaue qui s'avale toute, N'il n'en retorne arriere goute: Li tens vers qui noient ne dure, Ne fer ne chose tant soit dure, Car il gaste tout et menjue; Li tens qui tote chose mue, 380 Qui tout fait croistre et tout norist, Et qui tout use et tout porrist;

<< The tyme, that eldeth our auncessours And eldeth kinges and emperours, And that us alle shal overcomen Er that deeth us shal have nomen: The tyme, that hath al in welde 395 To elden folk, had maad hir elde So inly, that, to my witing, She mighte helpe hir-self no-thing, But turned ageyn unto childhede; She had no-thing hir-self to lede, 400 Ne wit ne pith in[with] hir holde More than a child of two yeer olde. But natheles, I trowe that she Was fair sumtyme, and fresh to see, Whan she was in hir rightful age: 405 But she was past al that passage And was a doted thing bicomen. A furred cope on had she nomen; Wel had she clad hir-self and warm, For cold mighte elles doon hir harm. 410 These olde folk have alwey colde, Hir kinde is swiche, whan they ben olde. Another thing was doon ther write, POPE-HOLY. That semede lyk an ipocrite,

>> Li tens qui enviellist nos peres, Et viellist roys et emperieres, Et qui tous nous enviellira, Ou mort nous desavancera; Li tens qui toute a la baillie Des gens viellir, l'avoit viellie Si durement, qu'au mien cuidier El ne se pooit mès aidier, 390 Ains retornoit jà en enfance, Car certes el n'avoit poissance, Ce cuit-je, ne force, ne sens Ne plus c'un enfés de deus ans. Ne porquant, au mien escient, Ele avoit esté sage et gent, Quant ele iert en son droit aage; Mais ge cuit qu'el n'iere mès sage, Ains iert trestote rassotée. Si ot d'une chape forrée 400 Moult bien, si cum je me recors, Abrié et vestu son corps: Bien fu vestue et chaudement, Car el éust froit autrement. Les vielles gens ont tost froidure; Bien savés que c'est lor nature. Une ymage ot emprès escrite, PAPELARDIE. Qui sembloit bien estre ypocrite;

<< And it was cleped POPE-HOLY. 415 That ilke is she that prively Ne spareth never a wikked dede, Whan men of hir taken non hede; And maketh hir outward precious, With pale visage and pitous, 420 And semeth a simple creature; But ther nis no misaventure That she ne thenketh in hir corage. Ful lyk to hir was that image, That maked was lyk hir semblaunce. 425 She was ful simple of countenaunce, And she was clothed and eek shod, As she were, for the love of god, Yolden to religioun, Swich semed hir devocioun. 430 A sauter held she faste in honde, And bisily she gan to fonde To make many a feynt prayere To god, and to his seyntes dere. Ne she was gay, fresh, ne Iolyf, 435 But semed be ful ententyf To gode werkes, and to faire, And therto she had on an haire. Ne certes, she was fat no-thing,

>> PAPELARDIE ert apelée. C'est cele qui en recelée, 410 Quant nus ne s'en puet prendre garde, De nul mal faire ne se tarde. El fait dehors le marmiteus, Si a le vis simple et piteus, Et semble sainte créature; Mais sous ciel n'a male aventure Qu'ele ne pense en son corage. Moult la ressembloit bien l'ymage Qui faite fu à sa semblance, Qu'el fu de simple contenance; 420 Et si fu chaucie et vestue Tout ainsinc cum fame rendue. En sa main ung sautier tenoit, Et sachiés que moult se penoit De faire à Dieu prieres faintes, Et d'appeler et sains et saintes. El ne fu gaie, ne jolive, Ains fu par semblant ententive Du tout à bonnes ovres faire; Et si avoit vestu la haire. 430 Et sachiés que n'iere pas grasse,

<< But semed wery for fasting; 440 Of colour pale and deed was she. From hir the gate [shal] werned be Of paradys, that blisful place; For swich folk maketh lene hir face, As Crist seith in his evangyle, 445 To gete hem prys in toun a whyle; And for a litel glorie veine They lesen god and eek his reine. And alderlast of everichoon, POVERT. Was peynted POVERT al aloon, 450 That not a peny hadde in wolde, Al-though [that] she hir clothes solde, And though she shulde anhonged be; For naked as a worm was she. And if the weder stormy were, 455 For colde she shulde have deyed there. She nadde on but a streit old sak, And many a clout on it ther stak; This was hir cote and hir mantel, No more was there, never a del, 460 To clothe her with; I undertake, Gret leyser hadde she to quake.

>> De jeuner sembloit estre lasse, S'avoit la color pale et morte. A li et as siens ert la porte Dévéée de Paradis; Car icel gent si font lor vis Amegrir, ce dit l'Evangile, Por avoir loz parmi la ville, Et por un poi de gloire vaine Qui lor toldra Dieu et son raine. 440 Portraite fu au darrenier POVRETÉ. POVRETÉ, qui ung seul denier N'éust pas, s'el se déust pendre, Tant séust bien sa robe vendre; Qu'ele iere nuë comme vers: Se li tens fust ung poi divers, Je cuit qu'ele acorast de froit, Qu'el n'avoit c'ung vié sac estroit Tout plain de mavès palestiaus; Ce iert sa robe et ses mantiaus. 450 El n'avoit plus que afubler, Grant loisir avoit de trembler.

<< And she was put, that I of talke, Fer fro these other, up in an halke; There lurked and there coured she, 465 For povre thing, wher-so it be, Is shamfast, and despysed ay. Acursed may wel be that day, That povre man conceyved is; For god wot, al to selde, y-wis, 470 Is any povre man wel fed, Or wel arayed or y-cled, Or wel biloved, in swich wyse In honour that he may aryse. Alle these thinges, wel avysed, 475 As I have you er this devysed, With gold and asure over alle Depeynted were upon the walle. Squar was the wal, and high somdel; Enclosed, and y-barred wel, 480 In stede of hegge, was that gardin; Com never shepherde therin. Into that gardyn, wel [y-]wrought, Who-so that me coude have brought, By laddre, or elles by degree, 485 It wolde wel have lyked me.

>> Des autres fu un poi loignet; Cum chien honteus en ung coignet Se cropoit et s'atapissoit, Car povre chose, où qu'ele soit, Est adès boutée et despite. L'eure soit ore la maudite, Que povres homs fu concéus! Qu'il ne sera jà bien péus, 460 Ne bien vestus, ne bien chauciés, Néis amés, ne essauciés. Ces ymages bien avisé, Qui, si comme j'ai devisé, Furent à or et à asur De toutes pars paintes où mur. Haut fu li mur et tous quarrés, Si en fu bien clos et barrés, En leu de haies, uns vergiers, Où onc n'avoit entré bergiers. 470 Cis vergiers en trop bel leu sist: Qui dedens mener me vousist Ou par échiele ou par degré, Je l'en séusse moult bon gré;

<< For swich solace, swich Ioye, and play, I trowe that never man ne say, As in that place delitous. The gardin was not daungerous 490 To herberwe briddes many oon. So riche a yerd was never noon Of briddes songe, and braunches grene. Therin were briddes mo, I wene, Than been in alle the rewme of Fraunce. 495 Ful blisful was the accordaunce Of swete and pitous songe they made, For al this world it oughte glade. And I my-self so mery ferde, Whan I hir blisful songes herde, 500 That for an hundred pound nolde I,-- If that the passage openly Hadde been unto me free-- That I nolde entren for to see Thassemblee, god [it kepe and were!]-- 505 Of briddes, whiche therinne were, That songen, through hir mery throtes, Daunces of love, and mery notes. Whan I thus herde foules singe, I fel faste in a weymentinge, 510

>> Car tel joie ne tel déduit Ne vit nus hons, si cum ge cuit, Cum il avoit en ce vergier: Car li leus d'oisiaus herbergier N'estoit ne dangereux ne chiches. Onc mès ne fu nus leus si riches 480 D'arbres, ne d'oisillons chantans: Qu'il i avoit d'oisiaus trois tans Qu'en tout le remanant de France. Moult estoit bele l'acordance De lor piteus chant à oïr: Tous li mons s'en dust esjoïr. Je endroit moi m'en esjoï Si durement, quant les oï, Que n'en préisse pas cent livres, Se li passages fust delivres, 490 Que ge n'entrasse ens et véisse L'assemblée (que Diex garisse!) Des oisiaus qui léens estoient, Qui envoisiement chantoient Les dances d'amors et les notes Plesans, cortoises et mignotes. Quant j'oï les oisiaus chanter, Forment me pris à dementer

<< By which art, or by what engyn I mighte come in that gardyn; But way I couthe finde noon Into that gardin for to goon. Ne nought wiste I if that ther were 515 Eyther hole or place [o]-where, By which I mighte have entree; Ne ther was noon to teche me; For I was al aloon, y-wis, Ful wo and anguissous of this. 520 Til atte laste bithoughte I me, That by no weye ne mighte it be; That ther nas laddre or wey to passe, Or hole, into so fair a place. Tho gan I go a ful gret pas 525 Envyroning even in compas The closing of the square wal, Til that I fond a wiket smal So shet, that I ne mighte in goon, And other entree was ther noon. 530 Upon this dore I gan to smyte, THE DOOR. That was [so] fetys and so lyte; For other wey coude I not seke. Ful long I shoof, and knokked eke,

>> Par quel art ne par quel engin Je porroie entrer où jardin; 500 Mès ge ne poi onques trouver Leu par où g'i péusse entrer. Et sachiés que ge ne savoie S'il i avoït partuis ne voie, Ne leu par où l'en i entrast, Ne hons nés qui le me monstrast N'iert illec, que g'iere tot seus, Moult destroit et moult angoisseus; Tant qu'au darrenier me sovint C'oncques à nul jor ce n'avint 510 Qu'en si biau vergier n'éust huis, Ou eschiele ou aucun partuis. Lors m'en alai grant aléure Açaignant la compasséure Et la cloison du mur quarré, Tant que ung guichet bien barré Trovai petitet et estroit; Par autre leu l'en n'i entroit. A l'uis commençai à ferir, Autre entrée n'i soi querir. 520 Assez i feri et boutai, Et par maintes fois escoutai

<< And stood ful long and of[t] herkning 535 If that I herde a wight coming; Til that the dore of thilke entree A mayden curteys opened me. YDELNESSE. Hir heer was as yelowe of hewe As any basin scoured newe. 540 Hir flesh [as] tendre as is a chike, With bente browes, smothe and slike; And by mesure large were The opening of hir yën clere. Hir nose of good proporcioun, 545 Hir yën greye as a faucoun, With swete breeth and wel savoured. Hir face whyt and wel coloured, With litel mouth, and round to see; A clove chin eek hadde she. 550 Hir nekke was of good fasoun In lengthe and gretnesse, by resoun, Withoute bleyne, scabbe, or royne. Fro Ierusalem unto Burgoyne Ther nis a fairer nekke, y-wis, 555 To fele how smothe and softe it is. Hir throte, al-so whyt of hewe As snow on braunche snowed newe.

>> Se j'orroie venir nulle arme. Le guichet, qui estoit de charme, M'ovrit une noble pucele Qui moult estoit et gente et bele. Cheveus ot blons cum uns bacins, La char plus tendre qu'uns pocins, Front reluisant, sorcis votis. Son entr'oil ne fu pas petis, 530 Ains iert assez grans par mesure; Le nés ot bien fait à droiture, Les yex ot plus vairs c'uns faucons, Por faire envie à ces bricons. Douce alene ot et savorée, La face blanche et colorée, La bouche petite et grocete, S'ot où menton une fossete. Le col fu de bonne moison, Gros assez et lons par raison, 540 Si n'i ot bube ne malen. N'avoit jusqu'en Jherusalen Fame qui plus biau col portast, Polis iert et soef au tast. La gorgete ot autresi blanche Cum est la noif desus la branche

<< Of body ful wel wrought was she Men neded not, in no cuntree, 560 A fairer body for to seke. And of fyn orfrays had she eke A chapelet: so semly oon Ne wered never mayde upon;.... And faire above that chapelet 565 A rose gerland had she set. She hadde [in honde] a gay mirour, And with a riche gold tressour Hir heed was tressed queyntely; Hir sleves sewed fetisly. 570 And for to kepe hir hondes faire Of gloves whyte she hadde a paire. And she hadde on a cote of grene Of cloth of Gaunt; withouten wene, Wel semed by hir apparayle 575 She was not wont to greet travayle. For whan she kempt was fetisly, And wel arayed and richely, Thanne had she doon al hir Iournee; For mery and wel bigoon was she. 580

>> Quant il a freschement negié. Le cors ot bien fait et dougié, L'en ne séust en nule terre Nul plus bel cors de fame querre. 550 D'orfrois ot un chapel mignot; Onques nule pucele n'ot Plus cointe ne plus desguisié, Ne l'aroie adroit devisié En trestous les jors de ma vie. Robe avoit moult bien entaillie; Ung chapel de roses tout frais Ot dessus le chapel d'orfrais: En sa main tint ung miroër, Si ot d'ung riche treçoër 560 Son chief trecié moult richement, Bien et bel et estroitement Ot ambdeus cousues ses manches; Et por garder que ses mains blanches Ne halaissent, ot uns blans gans. Cote ot d'ung riche vert de gans, Cousue à lignel tout entour. Il paroit bien à son atour Qu'ele iere poi embesoignie. Quant ele s'iere bien pignie, 570 Et bien parée et atornée, Ele avoit faite sa jornée.

<< She ladde a lusty lyf in May, She hadde no thought, by night ne day, Of no-thing, but it were oonly To graythe hit wel and uncouthly. Whan that this dore hadde opened me 585 This mayden, semely for to see, I thanked hir as I best mighte, And axede hir how that she highte, And what she was, I axede eke. And she to me was nought unmeke, 590 Ne of hir answer daungerous, But faire answerde, and seide thus:-- Lo, sir, my name is YDELNESSE; So clepe men me, more and lesse. Ful mighty and ful riche am I, 595 And that of oon thing, namely; For I entende to no-thing But to my Ioye, and my pleying, And for to kembe and tresse me. Aqueynted am I, and privee 600 With Mirthe, lord of this gardyn, That fro the lande of Alexandryn Made the trees be hider fet, That in this gardin been y-set.

>> Moult avoit bon tems et bon May, Qu'el n'avoït soussi ne esmay De nule riens, fors solement De soi atorner noblement. Quant ainsinc m'ot l'uis deffermé La pucele au cors acesmé, Je l'en merciai doucement, Et si li demandai comment 580 Ele avoit non, et qui ele iere. Ele ne fu pas envers moi fiere, Ne de respondre desdaigneuse: Je me fais apeler Oiseuse,' Dist-ele, 'à tous mes congnoissans; Si sui riche fame et poissans. S'ai d'une chose moult bon tens, Car à nule riens je ne pens Qu'à moi joer et solacier, Et mon chief pignier et trecier: 590 Quant sui pignée et atornée, Adonc est fete ma jornée. Privée sui moult et acointe De Déduit le mignot, le cointe; C'est cil cui est cest biax jardins, Qui de la terre as Sarradins Fist çà ces arbres aporter, Qu'il fist par ce vergier planter.

<< And whan the trees were woxen on highte, 605 This wal, that slant here in thy sighte, Dide Mirthe enclosen al aboute; And these images, al withoute, He dide hem bothe entaile and peynte, That neither ben Iolyf ne queynte, 610 But they ben ful of sorowe and wo, As thou hast seen a whyle ago. 'And ofte tyme, him to solace, Sir Mirthe cometh into this place, And eek with him cometh his meynee, 615 That liven in lust and Iolitee. And now is Mirthe therin, to here The briddes, how they singen clere, The mavis and the nightingale, And other Ioly briddes smale. 620 And thus he walketh to solace Him and his folk; for swetter place To pleyen in he may not finde, Although he soughte oon in-til Inde. The alther-fairest folk to see 625 That in this world may founde be Hath Mirthe with him in his route, That folowen him alwayes aboute.'

>> Quant li arbres furent créu, Le mur que vous avez véu, 600 Fist lors Deduit tout entor faire, Et si fist au dehors portraire Les ymages qui i sunt paintes, Que ne sunt mignotes ne cointes; Ains sunt dolereuses et tristes, Si cum vous orendroit véistes. Maintes fois por esbanoier Se vient en cest leu umbroier Déduit et les gens qui le sivent, Qui en joie et en solas vivent. 610 Encores est léens, sans doute, Déduit orendroit qui escoute A chanter gais rossignolés, Mauvis et autres oiselés. Il s'esbat iluec et solace O ses gens, car plus bele place Ne plus biau leu por soi joer Ne porroit-il mie trover; Les plus beles gens, ce sachiés, Que vous jamès nul leu truissiés, 620 Si sunt li compaignon Déduit Qu'il maine avec li et conduit.'

<< When Ydelnesse had told al this, And I hadde herkned wel, y-wis, 630 Than seide I to dame Ydelnesse, Now al-so wisly god me blesse, Sith Mirthe, that is so fair and free, Is in this yerde with his meynee, Fro thilke assemblee, if I may, 635 Shal no man werne me to-day, That I this night ne mote it see. For, wel wene I, ther with him be A fair and Ioly companye Fulfilled of alle curtesye.' 640 And forth, withoute wordes mo, In at the wiket wente I tho, That Ydelnesse hadde opened me, Into that gardin fair to see. And whan I was [ther]in, y-wis, 645 Myn herte was ful glad of this. THE GARDEN. For wel wende I ful sikerly Have been in paradys erth[e]ly; So fair it was, that, trusteth wel, It semed a place espirituel. 650 For certes, as at my devys, Ther is no place in paradys So good in for to dwelle or be As in that GARDIN, thoughte me;

>> Quant Oiseuse m'ot ce conté, Et j'oi moult bien tout escouté, Je li dis lores: 'Dame Oiseuse, Jà de ce ne soyés douteuse, Puis que Déduit li biaus, li gens Est orendroit avec ses gens En cest vergier, ceste assemblée Ne m'iert pas, se je puis, emblée, 630 Que ne la voie encore ennuit; Véoir la m'estuet, car ge cuit Que bele est cele compaignie, Et cortoise et bien enseignie.' Lors m'en entrai, ne dis puis mot, Par l'uis que Oiseuse overt m'ot, Où vergier; et quant je fui ens Je fui liés et baus et joiens. Et sachiés que je cuidai estre Por voir en Paradis terrestre, 640 Tant estoit li leu delitables, Qu'il sembloit estre esperitables: Car si cum il m'iert lors avis, Ne féist en nul Paradis Si bon estre, cum il faisoit Où vergier qui tant me plaisoit.

<< For there was many a brid singing, 655 Throughout the yerde al thringing. In many places were nightingales, Alpes, finches, and wodewales, That in her swete song delyten In thilke place as they habyten. 660 Ther mighte men see many flokkes Of turtles and [of] laverokkes. Chalaundres fele saw I there, That wery, nigh forsongen were. And thrustles, terins, and mavys, 665 That songen for to winne hem prys, And eek to sormounte in hir song These other briddes hem among. By note made fair servyse These briddes, that I you devyse; 670 They songe hir song as faire and wel As angels doon espirituel. And, trusteth wel, whan I hem herde, Full lustily and wel I ferde; For never yit swich melodye 675 Was herd of man that mighte dye.

>> D'oisiaus chantans avoit assés Par tout le vergier amassés; En ung leu avoit rossigniaus, En l'autre gais et estorniaus; 650 Si r'avoit aillors grans escoles De roietiaus et torteroles, De chardonnereaus, d'arondeles, D'aloes et de lardereles; Calendres i ot amassées En ung autre leu, qui lassées De chanter furent à envis: Melles y avoit et mauvis Qui baoient à sormonter Ces autres oisiaus par chanter. 660 Il r'avoit aillors papegaus, Et mains oisiaus qui par ces gaus Et par ces bois où il habitent, En lor biau chanter se délitent. Trop parfesoient bel servise Cil oisel que je vous devise; Il chantoient ung chant itel Cum s'il fussent esperitel. De voir sachiés, quant les oï, Moult durement m'en esjoï: 670 Que mès si douce mélodie Ne fu d'omme mortel oïe.

<< Swich swete song was hem among, That me thoughte it no briddes song, But it was wonder lyk to be Song of mermaydens of the see; 680 That, for her singing is so clere, Though we mermaydens clepe hem here In English, as in our usaunce, Men clepen hem sereyns in Fraunce. Ententif weren for to singe 685 These briddes, that nought unkunninge Were of hir craft, and apprentys, But of [hir] song sotyl and wys. And certes, whan I herde hir song, And saw the grene place among, 690 In herte I wex so wonder gay, That I was never erst, er that day, So Iolyf, nor so wel bigo, Ne mery in herte, as I was tho. And than wiste I, and saw ful wel, 695 That Ydelnesse me served wel, That me putte in swich Iolitee. Hir freend wel oughte I for to be, Sith she the dore of that gardyn Hadde opened, and me leten in. 700

>> Tant estoit cil chans dous et biaus, Qu'il ne sombloit pas chans d'oisiaus, Ains le péust l'en aesmer A chant de seraines de mer, Qui par lor vois, qu'eles ont saines Et series, ont non seraines. A chanter furent ententis Li oisillon qui aprenti 680 Ne furent pas ne non sachant; Et sachiés quant j'oï lor chant, Et je vi le leu verdaier, Je me pris moult à esgaier; Que n'avoie encor esté onques Si jolif cum je fui adonques; Por la grant délitableté Fui plains de grant jolieté. Et lores soi-je bien et vi Que Oiseuse m'ot bien servi, 690 Qui m'avoit en tel déduit mis: Bien déusse estre ses amis, Quant ele m'avoit deffermé Le guichet du vergier ramé.

<< From hennesforth how that I wroughte, I shal you tellen, as me thoughte. First, whereof Mirthe served there, And eek what folk ther with him were, Withoute fable I wol descryve. 705 And of that gardin eek as blyve I wol you tellen after this. The faire fasoun al, y-wis, That wel [y-]wrought was for the nones, I may not telle you al at ones: 710 But as I may and can, I shal By ordre tellen you it al. Ful fair servyse and eek ful swete These briddes maden as they sete. Layes of love, ful wel sowning 715 They songen in hir Iargoning; Summe highe and summe eek lowe songe Upon the braunches grene y-spronge. The sweetnesse of hir melodye Made al myn herte in reverdye. 720 And whan that I hadde herd, I trowe, These briddes singing on a rowe, Than mighte I not withholde me That I ne wente in for to see

>> Dès ore si cum je sauré, Vous conterai comment j'ovré. Primes de quoi Déduit servoit, Et quel compaignie il avoit Sans longue fable vous veil dire, Et du vergier tretout à tire 700 La façon vous redirai puis. Tout ensemble dire ne puis, Mès tout vous conteré par ordre, Que l'en n'i sache que remordre. Grant servise et dous et plaisant Aloient cil oisel faisant; Lais d'amors et sonnés cortois Chantoit chascun en son patois, Li uns en haut, li autre en bas; De lor chant n'estoit mie gas. 710 La douçor et la mélodie Me mist où cuer grant reverdie; Mès quant j'oi escouté ung poi Les oisiaus, tenir ne me poi Que dant Déduit véoir n'alasse; Car à savoir moult desirasse

<< Sir Mirthe; for my desiring 725 Was him to seen, over alle thing, His countenaunce and his manere: That sighte was to me ful dere. Tho wente I forth on my right hond Doun by a litel path I fond 730 Of mentes ful, and fenel grene; And faste by, withoute wene, SIR MIRTHE I fond; and right anoon SIR MIRTHE. Unto sir Mirthe gan I goon, Ther-as he was, him to solace. 735 And with him, in that lusty place, So fair folk and so fresh hadde he, That whan I saw, I wondred me Fro whennes swich folk mighte come, So faire they weren, alle and some; 740 For they were lyk, as to my sighte, To angels, that ben fethered brighte. This folk, of which I telle you so, Upon a carole wenten tho. A lady caroled hem, that highte 745 GLADNES, [the] blisful and the lighte; GLADNESSE. Wel coude she singe and lustily, Non half so wel and semely, And make in song swich refreininge, It sat hir wonder wel to singe. 750

>> Son contenement et son estre. Lors m'en alai tout droit à destre, Par une petitete sente Plaine de fenoil et de mente; 720 Mès auques près trové Déduit, Car maintenant en ung réduit M'en entré où Déduit estoit. Déduit ilueques s'esbatoit; S'avoit si bele gent o soi, Que quant je les vi, je ne soi Dont si tres beles gens pooient Estre venu; car il sembloient Tout por voir anges empennés, Si beles gens ne vit homs nés. 730 Ceste gent dont je vous parole, S'estoient pris à la carole, Et une dame lor chantoit, Qui Léesce apelée estoit: Bien sot chanter et plesamment, Ne nule plus avenaument, Ne plus bel ses refrains ne fist, A chanter merveilles li sist;

<< Hir vois ful cleer was and ful swete. She was nought rude ne unmete, But couthe y-now of swich doing As longeth unto caroling: For she was wont in every place 755 To singen first, folk to solace; For singing most she gaf hir to; No craft had she so leef to do. Tho mightest thou caroles seen, And folk [ther] daunce and mery been, 760 And make many a fair tourning Upon the grene gras springing. Ther mightest thou see these floutours, Minstrales, and eek Iogelours, That wel to singe dide hir peyne. 765 Somme songe songes of Loreyne; For in Loreyne hir notes be Ful swetter than in this contree. Ther was many a timbestere, And saylours, that I dar wel swere 770 Couthe hir craft ful parfitly. The timbres up ful sotilly They caste, and henten [hem] ful ofte Upon a finger faire and softe,

>> Qu'ele avoit la vois clere et saine; Et si n'estoit mie vilaine; 740 Ains se savoit bien desbrisier, Ferir du pié et renvoisier. Ele estoit adès coustumiere De chanter en tous leus premiere: Car chanter estoit li mestiers Qu'ele faisoit plus volentiers. Lors véissiés carole aler, Et gens mignotement baler, Et faire mainte bele tresche, Et maint biau tor sor l'erbe fresche. 750 Là véissiés fléutéors, Menesterez et jougléors; Si chantent li uns rotruenges, Li autres notes Loherenges, Por ce qu'en set en Loheregne Plus cointes notes qu'en nul regne. Assez i ot tableterresses Ilec entor, et tymberresses Qui moult savoient bien joer, Et ne finoient de ruer 760 Le tymbre en haut, si recuilloient Sor ung doi, c'onques n'i failloient.

<< That they [ne] fayled never-mo. 775 Ful fetis damiselles two, Right yonge, and fulle of semlihede, In kirtles, and non other wede, And faire tressed every tresse, Hadde Mirthe doon, for his noblesse, 780 Amidde the carole for to daunce; But her-of lyth no remembraunce, How that they daunced queyntely. That oon wolde come al prively Agayn that other: and whan they were 785 Togidre almost, they threwe y-fere Hir mouthes so, that through hir play It semed as they kiste alway; To dauncen wel coude they the gyse; What shulde I more to you devyse? 790 Ne bede I never thennes go, Whyles that I saw hem daunce so. Upon the carole wonder faste, I gan biholde; til atte laste A lady gan me for to espye, 795 And she was cleped CURTESYE, CURTESYE. The worshipful, the debonaire; I pray god ever falle hir faire!

>> Deus damoiseles moult mignotes, Qui estoient en pures cotes, Et trecies à une tresce, Faisoient Déduit par noblesce Enmi la karole baler; Mès de ce ne fait à parler Comme el baloient cointement. L'une venoit tout belement 770 Contre l'autre; et quant el estoient Près à près, si s'entregetoient Les bouches, qu'il vous fust avis Que s'entrebaisassent où vis: Bien se savoient desbrisier. Ne vous en sai que devisier; Mès à nul jor ne me quéisse Remuer, tant que ge véisse Ceste gent ainsine efforcier De caroler et de dancier. 780 La karole tout en estant Regardai iluec jusqu'à tant C'une dame bien enseignie Me tresvit: ce fu Cortoisie La vaillant et la debonnaire, Que Diex deffende de contraire.

<< Ful curteisly she called me, 'What do ye there, beau sire?' quod she, 800 Come [neer], and if it lyke yow To dauncen, daunceth with us now.' And I, withoute tarying, Wente into the caroling. I was abasshed never a del, 805 But it me lykede right wel, That Curtesye me cleped so, And bad me on the daunce go. For if I hadde durst, certeyn I wolde have caroled right fayn, 810 As man that was to daunce blythe. Than gan I loken ofte sythe The shap, the bodies, and the cheres, The countenaunce and the maneres Of alle the folk that daunced there, 815 And I shal telle what they were. Ful fair was MIRTHE, ful long and high; MIRTHE. A fairer man I never sigh. As round as appel was his face, Ful rody and whyt in every place. 820 Fetys he was and wel beseye, With metely mouth and yën greye;

>> Cortoisie lors m'apela: Biaus amis, que faites-vous là?' Fait Cortoisie, 'ça venez, Et avecque nous vous prenez 790 A la karole, s'il vous plest.' Sans demorance et sans arrest A la karole me sui pris, Si n'en fui pas trop entrepris, Et sachiés que moult m'agréa Quant Cortoisie m'en pria, Et me dist que je karolasse; Car de karoler, se j'osasse, Estoie envieus et sorpris. A regarder lores me pris 800 Les cors, les façons et les chieres, Les semblances et les manieres Des gens qui ilec karoloient: Si vous dirai quex il estoient. Déduit fu biaus et lons et drois, Jamés en terre ne venrois Où vous truissiés nul plus bel homme: La face avoit cum une pomme, Vermoille et blanche tout entour, Cointes fu et de bel atour. 810

<< His nose by mesure wrought ful right; Crisp was his heer, and eek ful bright. His shuldres of a large brede, 825 And smalish in the girdilstede. He semed lyk a portreiture, So noble he was of his stature, So fair, so Ioly, and so fetys, With limes wrought at poynt devys, 830 Deliver, smert, and of gret might; Ne sawe thou never man so light. Of berde unnethe hadde he no-thing, For it was in the firste spring. Ful yong he was, and mery of thought, 835 And in samyt, with briddes wrought, And with gold beten fetisly, His body was clad ful richely. Wrought was his robe in straunge gyse, And al to-slitered for queyntyse 840 In many a place, lowe and hye. And shod he was with greet maistrye, With shoon decoped, and with laas. By druerye, and by solas, His leef a rosen chapelet 845 Had maad, and on his heed it set.

>> Les yex ot vairs, la bouche gente, Et le nez fait par grant entente; Cheveus ot blons, recercelés, Par espaules fu auques lés, Et gresles parmi la ceinture: Il resembloit une painture, Tant ere biaus et acesmés, Et de tous membres bien formés. Remuans fu, et preus, et vistes, Plus legier homme ne véistes; 820 Si n'avoit barbe, ne grenon, Se petiz peus folages non, Car il ert jones damoisiaus. D'un samit portret à oysiaus, Qui ere tout à or batus, Fu ses cors richement vestus. Moult iert sa robe desguisée, Et fu moult riche et encisée, Et décopée par cointise; Chauciés refu par grant mestrise 830 D'uns solers décopés à las; Par druerie et par solas Li ot s'amie fet chapel De roses qui moult li sist bel.

<< And wite ye who was his leef? Dame GLADNES ther was him so leef, GLADNESSE. That singeth so wel with glad corage, That from she was twelve yeer of age, 850 She of hir love graunt him made. Sir Mirthe hir by the finger hadde [In] daunsing, and she him also; Gret love was atwixe hem two. Bothe were they faire and brighte of hewe; 855 She semede lyk a rose newe Of colour, and hir flesh so tendre, That with a brere smale and slendre Men mighte it cleve, I dar wel sayn. Hir forheed, frounceles al playn. 860 Bente were hir browes two, Hir yën greye, and gladde also, That laughede ay in hir semblaunt, First or the mouth, by covenaunt. I not what of hir nose descryve; 865 So fair hath no womman alyve.... Hir heer was yelowe, and cleer shyning, I wot no lady so lyking.

>> Savés-vous qui estoit s'amie? Léesce qui nel' haoit mie, L'envoisie, la bien chantans, Qui dès lors qu'el n'ot que sept ans De s'amor li donna l'otroi; Déduit la tint parmi le doi 840 A la karole, et ele lui, Bien s'entr'amoient ambedui: Car il iert biaus, et ele bele, Bien resembloit rose novele De sa color. S'ot la char tendre, Qu'en la li péust toute fendre A une petitete ronce. Le front ot blanc, poli, sans fronce, Les sorcis bruns et enarchiés, Les yex gros et si envoisiés, 850 Qu'il rioient tousjors avant Que la bouchete par convant. Je ne vous sai du nés que dire, L'en nel' féist pas miex de cire. Ele ot la bouche petitete, Et por baisier son ami, preste; Le chief ot blons et reluisant. Que vous iroie-je disant? Bele fu et bien atornée; D'ung fil d'or ere galonnée, 860 S'ot ung chapel d'orfrois tout nuef; Je qu'en oi véu vint et nuef,

<< Of orfrays fresh was hir gerland; I, whiche seen have a thousand, 870 Saugh never, y-wis, no gerlond yit, So wel [y]-wrought of silk as it. And in an over-gilt samyt Clad she was, by gret delyt, Of which hir leef a robe werde, 875 The myrier she in herte ferde. And next hir wente, on hir other syde, CUPIDE. The god of Love, that can devyde Love, as him lyketh it [to] be. But he can cherles daunten, he, 880 And maken folkes pryde fallen. And he can wel these lordes thrallen, And ladies putte at lowe degree, Whan he may hem to proude see. This God of Love of his fasoun 885 Was lyk no knave, ne quistroun; His beautee gretly was to pryse. But of his robe to devyse I drede encombred for to be. For nought y-clad in silk was he, 890 But al in floures and flourettes, Y-painted al with amorettes;

>> A nul jor mès véu n'avoie Chapel si bien ouvré de soie. D'un samit qui ert tous dorés Fu ses cors richement parés, De quoi son ami avoit robe, Si en estoit assés plus gobe. A li se tint de l'autre part Li Diex d'Amors, cil qui départ 870 Amoretes à sa devise. C'est cil qui les amans justise, Et qui abat l'orguel des gens, Et si fait des seignors sergens, Et des dames refait bajesses, Quant il les trove trop engresses. Li Diex d'Amors, de la façon, Ne resembloit mie garçon: De beaulté fist moult à prisier, Mes de sa robe devisier 880 Criens durement qu'encombré soie. Il n'avoit pas robe de soie, Ains avoit robe de floretes, Fete par fines amoretes

<< And with losenges and scochouns, With briddes, libardes, and lyouns, And other beestes wrought ful wel. 895 His garnement was everydel Y-portreyd and y-wrought with floures, By dyvers medling of coloures. Floures ther were of many gyse Y-set by compas in assyse; 900 Ther lakked no flour, to my dome, Ne nought so muche as flour of brome, Ne violete, ne eck pervenke, Ne flour non, that man can on thenke, And many a rose-leef ful long 905 Was entermedled ther-among: And also on his heed was set Of roses rede a chapelet. But nightingales, a ful gret route, That flyen over his heed aboute, 910 The leves felden as they flyen; And he was al with briddes wryen, With popiniay, with nightingale, With chalaundre, and with wodewale, With finch, with lark, and with archaungel. 915 He semede as he were an aungel

>> A losenges, à escuciaus, A oiselés, à lionciaus, Et à bestes et à liépars; Fu la robe de toutes pars Portraite, et ovrée de flors Par diverseté de colors. 890 Flors i avoit de maintes guises Qui furent par grant sens assises; Nulle flor en esté ne nest Qui n'i soit, neis flor de genest, Ne violete, ne parvanche, Ne fleur inde, jaune ne blanche; Si ot par leus entremeslées Foilles de roses grans et lées. Il ot où chief ung chapelet De roses; mès rossignolet 900 Qui entor son chief voletoient, Les foilles jus en abatoient: Car il iert tout covers d'oisiaus, De papegaus, de rossignaus, De calandres et de mesanges; Il sembloit que ce fust uns anges

<< That doun were comen fro hevene clere. Love hadde with him a bachelere, That he made alweyes with him be; SWETE-LOKING cleped was he. 920 This bachelere stood biholding SWETE-LOKING. The daunce, and in his honde holding Turke bowes two hadde he. That oon of hem was of a tree That bereth a fruyt of savour wikke; 925 Ful croked was that foule stikke, And knotty here and there also, And blak as bery, or any slo. That other bowe was of a plante Withoute wem, I dar warante, 930 Ful even, and by proporcioun Tretys and long, of good fasoun. And it was peynted wel and thwiten, And over-al diapred and writen With ladies and with bacheleres, 935 Ful lightsom and [ful] glad of cheres. These bowes two held Swete-Loking, That semed lyk no gadeling. And ten brode arowes held he there, Of which five in his right hond were. 940

>> Qui fust tantost venus du ciau. Amors avoit ung jovenciau Qu'il faisoit estre iluec delés; Douz-Regard estoit apelés. 910 Ici bachelers regardoit Les caroles, et si gardoit Au Diex d'Amors deux ars turquois. Li uns des ars si fu d'un bois Dont li fruit iert mal savorés; Tous plains de nouz et bocerés Fu li ars dessous et dessore, Et si estoit plus noirs que mores. Li autres ars fu d'un plançon Longuet et de gente façon; 920 Si fu bien fait et bien dolés, Et si fu moult bien pipelés. Dames i ot de tous sens pointes, Et valés envoisiés et cointes. Ices deux ars tint Dous-Regars Qui ne sembloit mie estre gars, Avec dix des floiches son mestre. Il en tint cinq en sa main destre;

<< But they were shaven wel and dight, Nokked and fethered a-right; And al they were with gold bigoon, And stronge poynted everichoon, And sharpe for to kerven weel. 945 But iren was ther noon ne steel; For al was gold, men mighte it see, Out-take the fetheres and the tree. The swiftest of these arowes fyve Out of a bowe for to dryve, 950 And best [y]-fethered for to flee, And fairest eek, was cleped BEAUTEE. BEAUTEE. That other arowe, that hurteth lesse, Was cleped, as I trowe, SIMPLESSE. SIMPLESSE. The thridde cleped was FRAUNCHYSE, 955 That fethered was, in noble wyse, FRAUNCHYSE. With valour and with curtesye. The fourthe was cleped COMPANYE COMPANYE. That hevy for to sheten is; But who-so sheteth right, y-wis, 960 May therwith doon gret harm and wo. The fifte of these, and laste also,

>> Mès moult orent ices cinq floiches Les penons bien fais, et les coiches: 930 Si furent toutes à or pointes, Fors et tranchans orent les pointes, Et aguës por bien percier, Et si n'i ot fer ne acier; Onc n'i ot riens qui d'or ne fust, Fors que les penons et le fust: Car el furent encarrelées De sajetes d'or barbelées. La meillore et la plus isnele De ces floiches, et la plus bele, 940 Et cele où li meillor penon Furent entés, Biautes ot non. Une d'eles qui le mains blece, Ot non, ce m'est avis, Simplece. Une autre en i ot apelée Franchise; cele iert empenée De Valor et de Cortoisie. La quarte avoit non Compaignie: En cele ot moult pesant sajete. Ele n'iert pas d'aler loing preste; 950 Mès qui de près en vosist traire, Il en péust assez mal faire.

<< FAIR-SEMBLAUNT men that arowe calle, FAIR- The leeste grevous of hem alle; SEMBLAUNT. Yit can it make a ful gret wounde, 965 But he may hope his sores sounde, That hurt is with that arowe, y-wis; His wo the bet bistowed is. For he may soner have gladnesse, His langour oughte be the lesse. 970 Fyve arowes were of other gyse, That been ful foule to devyse; For shaft and ende, sooth to telle, Were al-so blak as feend in helle. The first of hem is called PRYDE; PRYDE. 975 That other arowe next him bisyde, It was [y]-cleped VILANYE; VILANYE. That arowe was as with felonye Envenimed, and with spitous blame. The thridde of hem was cleped SHAME. SHAME. 980 The fourthe, WANHOPE cleped is, WANHOPE. The fifte, the NEWE-THOUGHT, y-wis. NEWE- These arowes that I speke of here, THOUGHT. Were alle fyve of oon manere, And alle were they resemblable. 985 To hem was wel sitting and able

>> La quinte avoit non Biau-Semblant, Ce fut toute la mains grévant. Ne porquant el fait moult grant plaie; Mès cis atent bonne menaie, Qui de cele floiche est plaiés, Ses maus en est mielx emplaiés; Car il puet tost santé atendre, S'en doit estre sa dolor mendre. 960 Cinq floiches i ot d'autre guise, Qui furent lédes à devise: Li fust estoient et li fer Plus noirs que déables d'enfer. La premiere avoit non Orguex, L'autre qui ne valoit pas miex, Fu apelée Vilenie; Icele fu de felonie Toute tainte et envenimée. La tierce fu Honte clamée, 970 Et la quarte Desesperance: Novel-Penser fu sans doutance Apelée la darreniere. Ces cinq floiches d'une maniere Furent, et moult bien resemblables; Moult par lor estoit convenables

<< The foule croked bowe hidous, That knotty was, and al roynous. That bowe semede wel to shete These arowes fyve, that been unmete, 990 Contrarie to that other fyve. But though I telle not as blyve Of hir power, ne of hir might, Her-after shal I tellen right The sothe, and eek signifiaunce, 995 As fer as I have remembraunce: Al shall be seid, I undertake, Er of this boke an ende I make. Now come I to my tale ageyn. But alderfirst, I wol you seyn 1000 The fasoun and the countenaunces Of al the folk that on the daunce is. The God of Love, Iolyf and light, Ladde on his honde a lady bright, Of high prys, and of greet degree. 1005 This lady called was BEAUTEE, BEAUTEE. [As was] an arowe, of which I tolde. Ful wel [y]-thewed was she holde; Ne she was derk ne broun, but bright, And cleer as [is] the mone-light, 1010

>> Li uns des arcs qui fu hideus, Et plains de neus, et eschardeus; Il devoit bien tiex floiches traire, Car el erent force et contraire 980 As autres cinq floiches sans doute. Mès ne diré pas ore toute Lor forces, ne lor poestés. Bien vous sera la verités Contée, et la sénefiance Nel'metré mie en obliance; Ains vous dirai que tout ce monte, Ainçois que je fine mon conte. Or revendrai à ma parole: Des nobles gens de la karole 990 M'estuet dire les contenances, Et les façons et les semblances. Li Diex d'Amors se fu bien pris A une dame de haut pris, Et delez lui iert ajoustés: Icele dame ot non Biautés, Ainsinc cum une des cinq fleches. En li ot maintes bonnes teches: El ne fu oscure, ne brune, Ains fu clere comme la lune, 1000

<< Ageyn whom alle the sterres semen But smale candels, as we demen. Hir flesh was tendre as dewe of flour, Hir chere was simple as byrde in bour; As whyt as lilie or rose in rys, 1015 Hir face gentil and tretys. Fetys she was, and smal to see; No windred browes hadde she, Ne popped hir, for it neded nought To windre hir, or to peynte hir ought. 1020 Hir tresses yelowe, and longe straughten, Unto hir heles doun they raughten: Hir nose, hir mouth, and eye and cheke Wel wrought, and al the remenaunt eke. A ful gret savour and a swote 1025 Me thinketh in myn herte rote, As helpe me god, whan I remembre Of the fasoun of every membre! In world is noon so fair a wight; For yong she was, and hewed bright, 1030 [Wys], plesaunt, and fetys withalle, Gente, and in hir middel smalle. Bisyde Beaute yede RICHESSE, RICHESSE. An high lady of greet noblesse,

>> Envers qui les autres estoiles Resemblent petites chandoiles. Tendre ot la char comme rousée, Simple fu cum une espousée, Et blanche comme flor de lis; Si ot le vis cler et alis, Et fu greslete et alignie; Ne fu fardée ne guignie: Car el n'avoit mie mestier De soi tifer ne d'afetier. 1010 Les cheveus ot blons et si lons Qu'il li batoient as talons; Nez ot bien fait, et yelx et bouche. Moult grant douçor au cuer me touche, Si m'aïst Diex, quant il me membre De la façon de chascun membre Qu'il n'ot si bele fame où monde. Briément el fu jonete et blonde, Sade, plaisant, aperte et cointe, Grassete et grele, gente et jointe. 1020 Près de Biauté se tint Richece, Une dame de grant hautece,

<< And greet of prys in every place. 1035 But who-so durste to hir trespace, Or til hir folk, in worde or dede, He were ful hardy, out of drede; For bothe she helpe and hindre may: And that is nought of yisterday 1040 That riche folk have ful gret might To helpe, and eek to greve a wight. The beste and grettest of valour Diden Richesse ful gret honour, And besy weren hir to serve; 1045 For that they wolde hir love deserve, They cleped hir 'Lady,' grete and smalle; This wyde world hir dredeth alle; This world is al in hir daungere. Hir court hath many a losengere, 1050 And many a traytour envious, That been ful besy and curious For to dispreisen, and to blame That best deserven love and name. Bifore the folk, hem to bigylen, 1055 These losengeres hem preyse, and smylen, And thus the world with word anoynten; But afterward they [prikke] and poynten

>> De grant pris et de grant affaire. Qui à li ne as siens meffaire Osast riens par fais, ou par dis, Il fust moult fiers et moult hardis; Qu'ele puet moult nuire et aidier. Ce n'est mie ne d'ui ne d'ier Que riches gens out grant poissance De faire ou aïde, ou grévance. 1030 Tuit li greignor et li menor Portoient à Richece honor: Tuit baoient à li servir, Por l'amor de li deservir; Chascuns sa dame la clamoit, Car tous li mondes la cremoit; Tous li mons iert en son dangier. En sa cort ot maint losengier, Maint traïtor, maint envieus: Ce sunt cil qui sunt curieus 1040 De desprisier et de blasmer Tous ceus qui font miex à amer. Par devant, por eus losengier, Loent les gens li losengier; Tout le monde par parole oignent, Mès lor losenges les gens poignent

<< The folk right to the bare boon, Bihinde her bak whan they ben goon, 1060 And foule abate the folkes prys. Ful many a worthy man and wys, An hundred, have [they] don to dye, These losengeres, through flaterye; And maketh folk ful straunge be, 1065 Ther-as hem oughte be prive. Wel yvel mote they thryve and thee, And yvel aryved mote they be, These losengeres, ful of envye! No good man loveth hir companye. 1070 Richesse a robe of purpre on hadde, Ne trowe not that I lye or madde; For in this world is noon it liche, Ne by a thousand deel so riche, Ne noon so fair; for it ful wel 1075 With orfrays leyd was everydel, And portrayed in the ribaninges Of dukes stories, and of kinges. And with a bend of gold tasseled, And knoppes fyne of gold ameled. 1080 Aboute hir nekke of gentil entaile Was shet the riche chevesaile,

>> Par derriere dusques as os, Qu'il abaissent des bons les los, Et desloent les aloés, Et si loent les desloés. 1050 Maint prodommes ont encusés, Et de lor honnor reculés Li losengier par lor losenges; Car il font ceus des cors estranges Qui déussent estre privés: Mal puissent-il estre arivés Icil losengier plain d'envie! Car nus prodons n'aime lor vie. Richece ot une porpre robe, Ice ne tenés mie à lobe, 1060 Que je vous di bien et afiche Qu'il n'ot si bele, ne si riche Où monde, ne si envoisie. La porpre fu toute orfroisie; Si ot portraites à orfrois Estoires de dus et de rois. Si estoit au col bien orlée D'une bende d'or néélée Moult richement, sachiés sans faille. Si i avoit tretout à taille 1070

<< In which ther was ful gret plentee Of stones clere and bright to see. Rychesse a girdel hadde upon, 1085 The bokel of it was of a stoon Of vertu greet, and mochel of might; For who-so bar the stoon so bright, Of venim [thurte] him no-thing doute, While he the stoon hadde him aboute. 1090 That stoon was greetly for to love, And til a riche mannes bihove Worth al the gold in Rome and Fryse. The mourdaunt, wrought in noble wyse, Was of a stoon ful precious, 1095 That was so fyn and vertuous, That hool a man it coude make Of palasye, and of tooth-ake. And yit the stoon hadde suche a grace, That he was siker in every place, 1100 Al thilke day, not blind to been, That fasting mighte that stoon seen. The barres were of gold ful fyne, Upon a tissu of satyne, Ful hevy, greet, and no-thing light, 1105 In everich was a besaunt-wight. Upon the tresses of Richesse Was set a cercle, for noblesse,

>> De riches pierres grant plenté Qui moult rendoient grant clarté. Richece ot ung moult riche ceint Par desus cele porpre ceint; La boucle d'une pierre fu Qui ot grant force et grant vertu: Car cis qui sor soi la portoit, Nes uns venins ne redotoit: Nus nel pooit envenimer, Moult faisoit la pierre à aimer. 1080 Ele vausist à ung prodomme Miex que trestous li ors de Romme. D'une pierre fu li mordens, Qui garissoit du mal des dens; Et si avoit ung tel éur, Que cis pooit estre asséur Tretous les jors de sa véue, Qui à géun l'avoit véue. Li clou furent d'or esmeré, Qui erent el tissu doré; 1090 Si estoient gros et pesant, En chascun ot bien ung besant. Richece ot sus ses treces sores Ung cercle d'or; onques encores

<< Of brend gold, that ful lighte shoon; So fair, trowe I, was never noon. 1110 But he were cunning, for the nones, That coude devysen alle the stones That in that cercle shewen clere; It is a wonder thing to here. For no man coude preyse or gesse 1115 Of hem the valewe or richesse. Rubyes there were, saphyres, iagounces, And emeraudes, more than two ounces. But al bifore, ful sotilly, A fyn carboucle set saugh I. 1120 The stoon so cleer was and so bright, That, al-so sone as it was night, Men mighte seen to go, for nede, A myle or two, in lengthe and brede. Swich light [tho] sprang out of the stoon, 1125 That Richesse wonder brighte shoon, Bothe hir heed, and al hir face, And eke aboute hir al the place. Dame Richesse on hir hond gan lede A yong man ful of semelihede, 1130 That she best loved of any thing; His lust was muche in housholding.

>> Ne fu si biaus véus, ce cuit, Car il fu tout d'or fin recuit; Mès cis seroit bons devisierres Qui vous sauroit toutes les pierres, Qui i estoient, devisier, Car l'en ne porroit pas prisier 1100 L'avoir que les pierres valoient, Qui en l'or assises estoient. Rubis i ot, saphirs, jagonces, Esmeraudes plus de dix onces. Mais devant ot, par grant mestrise, Une escharboucle où cercle assise, Et la pierre si clere estoit, Que maintenant qu'il anuitoit, L'en s'en véist bien au besoing Conduire d'une liue loing. 1110 Tel clarté de la pierre yssoit, Que Richece en resplendissoit Durement le vis et la face, Et entor li toute la place. Richece tint parmi la main Ung valet de grant biauté plain, Qui fu ses amis veritiez. C'est uns hons qui en biaus ostiez

<< In clothing was he ful fetys, And lovede wel have hors of prys. He wende to have reproved be 1135 Of thefte or mordre, if that he Hadde in his stable an hakeney. And therfore he desyred ay To been aqueynted with Richesse; For al his purpos, as I gesse, 1140 Was for to make greet dispense, Withoute werning or defence. And Richesse mighte it wel sustene, And hir dispenses wel mayntene, And him alwey swich plentee sende 1145 Of gold and silver for to spende Withoute lakking or daungere, As it were poured in a garnere. And after on the daunce wente LARGESSE. LARGESSE, that sette al hir entente 1150 For to be honourable and free; Of Alexandres kin was she; Hir moste Ioye was, y-wis, Whan that she yaf, and seide, 'have this.' Not Avarice, the foule caytyf, 1155 Was half to grype so ententyf,

>> Maintenir moult se délitoit. Cis se chauçoit bien et vestoit, 1120 Si avoit les chevaus de pris; Cis cuidast bien estre repris Ou de murtre, ou de larrecin, S'en s'estable éust ung roucin. Por ce amoit-il moult l'acointance De Richece et la bien-voillance, Qu'il avoit tous jors en porpens De demener les grans despens, Et el les pooit bien soffrir, Et tous ses despens maintenir; 1130 El li donnoit autant deniers Cum s'el les puisast en greniers. Après refu Largece assise, Qui fu bien duite et bien aprise De faire honor, et de despendre: El fu du linage Alexandre; Si n'avoit-el joie de rien Cum quant el pooit dire, 'tien.' Neis Avarice la chétive N'ert pas si à prendre ententive 1140

<< As Largesse is to yeve and spende. And god y-nough alwey hir sende, So that the more she yaf awey, The more, y-wis, she hadde alwey. 1160 Gret loos hath Largesse, and gret prys; For bothe wys folk and unwys Were hoolly to hir baundon brought, So wel with yiftes hath she wrought. And if she hadde an enemy, 1165 I trowe, that she coude craftily Make him ful sone hir freend to be, So large of yift and free was she; Therfore she stood in love and grace Of riche and povre in every place. 1170 A ful gret fool is he, y-wis, That bothe riche and nigard is. A lord may have no maner vice That greveth more than avarice. For nigard never with strengthe of hond 1175 May winne him greet lordship or lond. For freendes al to fewe hath he To doon his wil perfourmed be. And who-so wol have freendes here, He may not holde his tresour dere. 1180 For by ensample I telle this, Right as an adamaunt, y-wis,

>> Cum Largece ere de donner; Et Diex li fesoit foisonner Ses biens si qu'ele ne savoit Tant donner, cum el plus avoit. Moult a Largece pris et los; Ele a les sages et les fos Outréement à son bandon, Car ele savoit fere biau don; S'ainsinc fust qu'aucuns la haïst, Si cuit-ge que de ceus féist 1150 Ses amis par son biau servise; Et por ce ot-ele à devise L'amor des povres et des riches. Moult est fos haus homs qui est chiches! Haus homs ne puet avoir nul vice, Qui tant li griet cum avarice: Car hons avers ne puet conquerre Ne seignorie ne grant terre; Car il n'a pas d'amis plenté, Dont il face sa volenté. 1160 Mès qui amis vodra avoir Si n'ait mie chier son avoir, Ains par biaus dons amis acquiere: Car tout en autretel maniere

<< Can drawen to him sotilly The yren, that is leyd therby, So draweth folkes hertes, y-wis, 1185 Silver and gold that yeven is. Largesse hadde on a robe fresshe Of riche purpur Sarsinesshe. Wel fourmed was hir face and clere, And opened had she hir colere; 1190 For she right there hadde in present Unto a lady maad present Of a gold broche, ful wel wrought. And certes, it missat hir nought; For through hir smokke, wrought with silk, 1195 The flesh was seen, as whyt as milk. Largesse, that worthy was and wys, Held by the honde a knight of prys, Was sib to Arthour of Bretaigne. And that was he that bar the enseigne 1200 Of worship, and the gonfanoun. And yit he is of swich renoun, That men of him seye faire thinges Bifore barouns, erles, and kinges. This knight was comen al newely 1205 Fro tourneyinge faste by;

>> Cum la pierre de l'aïment Trait à soi le fer soutilment, Ainsinc atrait les cuers des gens Li ors qu'en donne et li argens. Largece ot robe toute fresche D'une porpre Sarrazinesche; 1170 S'ot le vis bel et bien formé; Mès el ot son col deffermé, Qu'el avoit iluec en présent A une dame fet présent, N'avoit gueres, de son fermal, Et ce ne li séoit pas mal, Que sa cheveçaille iert overte, Et sa gorge si descoverte, Que parmi outre la chemise Li blanchoioit sa char alise. 1180 Largece la vaillant, la sage, Tint ung chevalier du linage Au bon roy Artus de Bretaigne; Ce fu cil qui porta l'enseigne De Valor et le gonfanon. Encor est-il de tel renom, Que l'en conte de li les contes Et devant rois et devant contes. Cil chevalier novelement Fu venus d'ung tornoiement, 1190

<< Ther hadde he doon gret chivalrye Through his vertu and his maistrye; And for the love of his lemman [Had] cast doun many a doughty man. 1210 And next him daunced dame FRAUNCHYSE, Arrayed in ful noble gyse. FRAUNCHYSE. She was not broun ne dun of hewe, But whyt as snowe y-fallen newe. Hir nose was wrought at poynt devys, 1215 For it was gentil and tretys; With eyen gladde, and browes bente; Hir heer doun to hir heles wente. And she was simple as dowve on tree, Ful debonaire of herte was she. 1220 She durste never seyn ne do But that [thing] that hir longed to. And if a man were in distresse, And for hir love in hevinesse, Hir herte wolde have ful greet pitee, 1225 She was so amiable and free. For were a man for hir bistad, She wolde ben right sore adrad That she dide over greet outrage, But she him holpe his harm to aswage; 1230

>> Où il ot faite por s'amie Mainte jouste et mainte envaïe, Et percié maint escu bouclé, Maint hiaume i avoit desserclé, Et maint chevalier abatu, Et pris par force et par vertu. Après tous ceus se tint Franchise, Qui ne fu ne brune ne bise, Ains ere blanche comme nois; Et si n'ot pas nés d'Orlenois, 1200 Ainçois l'avoit lonc et traitis, Iex vairs rians, sorcis votis: S'ot les chevous et blons, et lons, Et fu simple comme uns coulons. Le cuer ot dous et debonnaire: Ele n'osast dire ne faire A nuli riens qu'el ne déust; Et s'ele ung homme cognéust Qui fust destrois por s'amitié, Tantost éust de li pitié, 1210 Qu'ele ot le cuer si pitéable, Et si dous et si amiable, Que se nus por li mal traisist, S'el ne li aidast, el crainsist Qu'el féïst trop grant vilonnie. Vestue ot une sorquanie,

<< Hir thoughte it elles a vilanye. And she hadde on a sukkenye, That not of hempen herdes was; So fair was noon in alle Arras. Lord, it was rideled fetysly! 1235 Ther nas nat oo poynt, trewely, That it nas in his right assyse. Ful wel y-clothed was Fraunchyse; For ther is no cloth sitteth bet On damiselle, than doth roket. 1240 A womman wel more fetys is In roket than in cote, y-wis. The whyte roket, rideled faire, Bitokened, that ful debonaire And swete was she that it bere. 1245 By hir daunced a bachelere; I can not telle you what he highte, But fair he was, and of good highte, Al hadde he be, I sey no more, The lordes sone of Windesore. 1250 And next that daunced CURTESYE, CURTESYE. That preised was of lowe and hye, For neither proud ne fool was she. She for to daunce called me,

>> Qui ne fu mie de borras: N'ot si bele jusqu'à Arras; Car el fu si coillie et jointe, Qu'il n'i ot une seule pointe 1220 Qui à son droit ne fust assise. Moult fu bien vestue Franchise; Car nule robe n'est si bele Que sorquanie à damoisele. Fame est plus cointe et plus mignote En sorquanie que en cote: La sorquanie qui fu blanche, Senefioit que douce et franche Estoit cele qui la vestoit. Uns bachelers jones s'estoit 1230 Pris à Franchise lez à lez, Ne soi comment ert apelé, Mès biaus estoit, se il fust ores Fiex au seignor de Gundesores. Après se tenoit Courtoisie, Qui moult estoit de tous prisie, Si n'ere orguilleuse ne fole. C'est cele qui à la karole

<< (I pray god yeve hir right good grace!) 1255 Whan I com first into the place. She was not nyce, ne outrageous, But wys and war, and vertuous, Of faire speche, and faire answere; Was never wight misseid of here; 1260 She bar no rancour to no wight. Cleer broun she was, and therto bright Of face, of body avenaunt; I wot no lady so plesaunt. She were worthy for to bene 1265 An emperesse or crouned quene. And by hir wente a knight dauncing That worthy was and wel speking, And ful wel coude he doon honour. The knight was fair and stif in stour, 1270 And in armure a semely man, And wel biloved of his lemman. Fair YDELNESSE than saugh I, YDELNESSE. That alwey was me faste by. Of hir have I, withouten fayle, 1275 Told yow the shap and apparayle For (as I seide) lo, that was she That dide me so greet bountee,

>> La soe merci m'apela Ains que nule, quant je vins là. 1240 El ne fu ne nice, n'umbrage, Mès sages auques sans outrage, De biaus respons et de biaus dis, Onc nus ne fu par li laidis, Ne ne porta nului rancune. El fu clere comme la lune Est avers les autres estoiles Qui ne resemblent que chandoiles. Faitisse estoit et avenant, Je ne sai fame plus plaisant. 1250 Ele ere entoutes cors bien digne D'estre emperieris, ou roïne. A li se tint uns chevaliers Acointables et biaus parliers, Qui sot bien faire honor as gens. Li chevaliers fu biaus et gens, Et as armes bien acesmés, Et de s'amie bien amés. La bele Oiseuse vint après, Qui se tint de moi assés près. 1260 De cele vous ai dit sans faille Toute la façon et la taille; Jà plus ne vous en iert conté, Car c'est cele qui la bonté

<< That she the gate of the gardin Undide, and leet me passen in. 1280 And after daunced, as I gesse, YOUTHE. [YOUTHE], fulfild of lustinesse, That nas not yit twelve yeer of age, With herte wilde, and thought volage; Nyce she was, but she ne mente 1285 Noon harm ne slight in hir entente, But only lust and Iolitee. For yonge folk, wel witen ye, Have litel thought but on hir play. Hir lemman was bisyde alway, 1290 In swich a gyse, that he hir kiste At alle tymes that him liste, That al the daunce mighte it see; They make no force of privetee; For who spak of hem yvel or wel, 1295 They were ashamed never-a-del, But men mighte seen hem kisse there, As it two yonge douves were. For yong was thilke bachelere, Of beaute wot I noon his pere; 1300 And he was right of swich an age As Youthe his leef, and swich corage. The lusty folk thus daunced there, And also other that with hem were,

>> Me fist si grant qu'ele m'ovri Le guichet del vergier flori. Après se tint mien esciant, Jonesce, au vis cler et luisant, Qui n'avoit encores passés, Si cum je cuit, douze ans d'assés. 1270 Nicete fu, si ne pensoit Nul mal, ne nul engin qui soit; Mès moult iert envoisie et gaie, Car jone chose ne s'esmaie Fors de joer, bien le savés. Ses amis iert de li privés En tel guise, qu'il la besoit Toutes les fois que li plesoit, Voians tous ceus de la karole: Car qui d'aus deus tenist parole, 1280 Il n'en fussent jà vergondeus, Ains les véissiés entre aus deus Baisier comme deus columbiaus. Le valés fu jones et biaus, Si estoit bien d'autel aage Cum s'amie, et d'autel corage. Ainsi karoloient ilecques, Ceste gens, et autres avecques,

<< That weren alle of hir meynee; 1305 Ful hende folk, and wys, and free, And folk of fair port, trewely, Ther weren alle comunly. Whan I hadde seen the countenaunces Of hem that ladden thus these daunces, 1310 Than hadde I wil to goon and see The gardin that so lyked me, And loken on these faire loreres, On pyn-trees, cedres, and oliveres. The daunces than y-ended were; 1315 For many of hem that daunced there Were with hir loves went awey Under the trees to have hir pley. A, lord! they lived lustily! A gret fool were he, sikerly, 1320 That nolde, his thankes, swich lyf lede! For this dar I seyn, out of drede, That who-so mighte so wel fare, For better lyf [thurte] him not care; For ther nis so good paradys 1325 As have a love at his devys. Out of that place wente I tho, And in that gardin gan I go,

>> Qui estoient de lor mesnies, Franches gens et bien enseignies, 1290 Et gens de bel afetement Estoient tuit communément. Quant j'oi véues les semblances De ceus qui menoient les dances, J'oi lors talent que le vergier Alasse véoir et cerchier, Et remirer ces biaus moriers, Ces pins, ces codres, ces loriers. Les karoles jà remanoient, Car tuit li plusors s'en aloient 1300 O lor amies umbroier Sous ces arbres por dosnoier. Diex, cum menoient bonne vie! Fox est qui n'a de tel envie; Qui autel vie avoir porroit, De mieudre bien se sofferroit, Qu'il n'est nul greignor paradis Qu'avoir amie à son devis. D'ilecques me parti atant, Si m'en alai seus esbatant 1310

<< Pleying along ful merily. The God of Love ful hastely 1330 Unto him Swete-Loking clepte, No lenger wolde he that he kepte His bowe of golde, that shoon so bright. He [bad] him [bende it] anon-right; And he ful sone [it] sette on ende, 1335 And at a braid he gan it bende, And took him of his arowes fyve, Ful sharpe and redy for to dryve. Now god that sit in magestee Fro deedly woundes kepe me, 1340 If so be that he [wol] me shete; For if I with his arowe mete, It [wol me greven] sore, y-wis! But I, that no-thing wiste of this, Wente up and doun ful many a wey, 1345 And he me folwed faste alwey; But no-wher wolde I reste me, Til I hadde al the [yerde in] be. The gardin was, by mesuring, Right even and squar in compassing; 1350 It was as long as it was large. Of fruyt hadde every tree his charge, THE TREES.

>> Par le vergier de çà en là; Et li Diex d'Amors apela Tretout maintenant Dous-Regart: N'a or plus cure qu'il li gart Son arc: donques sans plus atendre L'arc li a commandé à tendre, Et cis gaires n'i atendi, Tout maintenant l'arc li tendi, Si li bailla et cinq sajetes Fors et poissans, d'aler loing prestes. 1320 Li Diex d'Amors tantost de loing Me prist à suivir, l'arc où poing. Or me gart Diex de mortel plaie! Se il fait tant que à moi traie, Il me grevera moult forment. Je qui de ce ne soi noient, Vois par la vergier à délivre, Et cil pensa bien de moi sivre; Mès en nul leu ne m'arresté, Devant que j'oi par tout esté. 1330 Li vergiers par compasséure Si fu de droite quarréure, S'ot de lonc autant cum de large; Nus arbres qui soit qui fruit charge,

<< But it were any hidous tree Of which ther were two or three. Ther were, and that wot I ful wel, 1355 Of pomgarnettes a ful gret del; That is a fruyt ful wel to lyke, Namely to folk whan they ben syke. And trees ther were, greet foisoun, That baren notes in hir sesoun, 1360 Such as men notemigges calle, That swote of savour been withalle. And alemandres greet plentee, Figes, and many a date-tree Ther weren, if men hadde nede, 1365 Through the gardin in length and brede. Ther was eek wexing many a spyce, As clow-gelofre, and licoryce, Gingere, and greyn de paradys, Canelle, and setewale of prys, 1370 And many a spyce delitable, To eten whan men ryse fro table. And many hoomly trees ther were, That peches, coynes, and apples bere, Medlers, ploumes, peres, chesteynes, 1375 Cheryse, of whiche many on fayn is,

>> Se n'est aucuns arbres hideus, Dont il n'i ait ou ung, ou deus Où vergier, ou plus, s'il avient. Pomiers i ot, bien m'en sovient, Qui chargoient pomes grenades, C'est uns fruis moult bons à malades; 1340 De noiers i ot grant foison, Qui chargoient en la saison Itel fruit cum sunt nois mugades, Qui ne sunt ameres, ne fades; Alemandiers y ot planté, Et si ot où vergier planté Maint figuier, et maint biau datier; Si trovast qu'en éust mestier, Où vergier mainte bone espice, Cloz de girofle et requelice, 1350 Graine de paradis novele, Citoal, anis, et canele, Et mainte espice délitable, Que bon mengier fait après table. Où vergier ot arbres domesches, Qui chargoient et coins et pesches, Chataignes, nois, pommes et poires, Nefles, prunes blanches et noires,

<< Notes, aleys, and bolas, That for to seen it was solas; With many high lorer and pyn Was renged clene al that gardyn; 1380 With cipres, and with oliveres, Of which that nigh no plente here is. Ther were elmes grete and stronge, Maples, asshe, ook, asp, planes longe, Fyn ew, popler, and lindes faire, 1385 And othere trees ful many a payre. What sholde I telle you more of it? Ther were so many treës yit, That I sholde al encombred be Er I had rekened every tree. 1390 These trees were set, that I devyse, Oon from another, in assyse, Five fadome or sixe, I trowe so, But they were hye and grete also: And for to kepe out wel the sonne, 1395 The croppes were so thikke y-ronne, And every braunch in other knet, And ful of grene leves set, That sonne mighte noon descende, Lest [it] the tendre grasses shende. 1400

>> Cerises fresches vermeilletes, Cormes, alies et noisetes; 1360 De haus loriers et de haus pins Refu tous pueplés li jardin, Et d'oliviers et de ciprés, Dont il n'a gaires ici prés; Ormes y ot branchus et gros, Et avec ce charmes et fos, Codres droites, trembles et chesnes, Erables haus, sapins et fresnes. Que vous iroie-je notant? De divers arbres i ot tant, 1370 Que moult en seroie encombrés, Ains que les éusse nombrés. Sachiés por voir, li arbres furent Si loing à loing cum estre durent. Li ung fu loing de l'autre assis Plus de cinq toises, ou de sis: Mès li rain furent lonc et haut, Et por le leu garder de chaut, Furent si espés par deseure, Que li solaus en nesune eure 1380 Ne pooit à terre descendre, Ne faire mal à l'erbe tendre.

<< Ther mighte men does and roes y-see, And of squirels ful greet plentee, From bough to bough alwey leping. Conies ther were also playing, That comen out of hir claperes 1405 Of sondry colours and maneres, And maden many a turneying Upon the fresshe gras springing. In places saw I WELLES there, THE WELLES. In whiche ther no frogges were, 1410 And fair in shadwe was every welle; But I ne can the nombre telle Of stremes smale, that by devys Mirthe had don come through condys, Of which the water, in renning, 1415 Gan make a noyse ful lyking. About the brinkes of thise welles, And by the stremes over-al elles Sprang up the gras, as thikke y-set And softe as any veluët, 1420 On which men mighte his lemman leye, As on a fetherbed, to pleye, For therthe was ful softe and swete. Through moisture of the welle wete

>> Où vergier ot daims et chevrions, Et moult grant plenté d'escoirions, Qui par ces arbres gravissoient; Connins i avoit qui issoient Toute jor hors de lor tesnieres, Et en plus de trente manieres Aloient entr'eus tornoiant Sor l'erbe fresche verdoiant. 1390 Il ot par leus cleres fontaines, Sans barbelotes et sans raines, Cui li arbres fesoient umbre; Mès n'en sai pas dire le numbre. Par petis tuiaus que Déduis Y ot fet fere, et par conduis S'en aloit l'iaue aval, fesant Une noise douce et plesant. Entor les ruissiaus et les rives Des fontaines cleres et vives, 1400 Poignoit l'erbe freschete et drue; Ausinc y poïst-l'en sa drue Couchier comme sur une coite, Car la terre estoit douce et moite Por la fontaine, et i venoit Tant d'erbe cum il convenoit.

<< Sprang up the sote grene gras, 1425 As fair, as thikke, as mister was. But muche amended it the place, That therthe was of swich a grace That it of floures had plente, That both in somer and winter be. 1430 Ther sprang the violete al newe, And fresshe pervinke, riche of hewe, And floures yelowe, whyte, and rede; Swich plentee grew ther never in mede. Ful gay was al the ground, and queynt, 1435 And poudred, as men had it peynt, With many a fresh and sondry flour, That casten up ful good savour. I wol not longe holde you in fable Of al this gardin delitable. 1440 I moot my tonge stinten nede, For I ne may, withouten drede, Naught tellen you the beautee al, Ne half the bountee therewithal. I wente on right honde and on left 1445 Aboute the place; it was not left, Til I hadde al the [yerde in] been, In the estres that men mighte seen.

>> Mès moult embelissoit l'afaire Li leus qui ere de tel aire, Qu'il i avoit tous jours plenté De flors et yver et esté. 1410 Violete y avoit trop bele, Et parvenche fresche et novele; Flors y ot blanches et vermeilles, De jaunes en i ot merveilles. Trop par estoit la terre cointe, Qu'ele ere piolée et pointe De flors de diverses colors, Dont moult sunt bonnes les odors. Ne vous tenrai jà longue fable Du leu plesant et délitable; 1420 Orendroit m'en convenra taire, Que ge ne porroie retraire Du vergier toute la biauté, Ne la grant délitableté. Tant fui à destre et à senestre, Que j'oi tout l'afere et tout l'estre Du vergier cerchié et véu; Et li Diex d'Amors m'a séu

<< And thus whyle I wente in my pley, The God of Love me folowed ay, 1450 Right as an hunter can abyde The beste, til he seeth his tyde To shete, at good mes, to the dere, Whan that him nedeth go no nere. And so befil, I rested me 1455 Besyde a welle, under a tree, Which tree in Fraunce men calle a pyn. But, sith the tyme of king Pepyn, Ne grew ther tree in mannes sighte So fair, ne so wel woxe in highte; 1460 In al that yerde so high was noon. And springing in a marble-stoon Had nature set, the sothe to telle, Under that pyn-tree a welle. And on the border, al withoute, 1465 Was writen, in the stone aboute, Lettres smale, that seyden thus, Here starf the faire Narcisus.' NARCISUS was a bachelere, NARCISUS. That Love had caught in his daungere, 1470 And in his net gan him so streyne, And dide him so to wepe and pleyne, That nede him muste his lyf forgo. For a fair lady, hight Echo,

>> Endementiers en agaitant, Cum li venieres qui atant 1430 Que la beste en bel leu se mete Por lessier aler la sajete. En ung trop biau leu arrivé, Au darrenier, où je trouvé Une fontaine sous ung pin; Mais puis Karles le fils Pepin, Ne fu ausinc biau pin véus, Et si estoit si haut créus, Qu'où vergier n'ot nul si bel arbre. Dedens une pierre de marbre 1440 Ot nature par grant mestrise Sous le pin la fontaine assise: Si ot dedens la pierre escrites Où bort amont letres petites Qui disoient: 'ici desus Se mori li biaus Narcisus.' Narcisus fu uns damoisiaus Que Amors tint en ses roisiaus, Et tant le sot Amors destraindre, Et tant le fist plorer et plaindre, 1450 Que li estuet à rendre l'ame: Car Equo, une haute dame,

<< Him loved over any creature, 1475 And gan for him swich peyne endure, That on a tyme she him tolde, That, if he hir loven nolde, That hir behoved nedes dye, Ther lay non other remedye. 1480 But natheles, for his beautee, So fiers and daungerous was he, That he nolde graunten hir asking, For weping, ne for fair praying. And whan she herde him werne hir so, 1485 She hadde in herte so gret wo, And took it in so gret dispyt, That she, withoute more respyt, Was deed anoon. But, er she deyde, Ful pitously to god she preyde, 1490 That proude-herted Narcisus, That was in love so daungerous, Mighte on a day ben hampred so For love, and been so hoot for wo, That never he mighte Ioye atteyne; 1495 Than shulde he fele in every veyne What sorowe trewe lovers maken, That been so vilaynsly forsaken.

>> L'avoit amé plus que riens née. El fu par lui si mal menée Qu'ele li dist qu'il li donroit S'amor, ou ele se morroit. Mès cis fu por sa grant biauté Plains de desdaing et de fierté, Si ne la li volt otroier, Ne por chuer, ne por proier. 1460 Quant ele s'oï escondire, Si en ot tel duel et tel ire, Et le tint en si grant despit, Que morte en fu sans lonc respit; Mès ainçois qu'ele se morist, Ele pria Diex et requist Que Narcisus au cuer ferasche, Qu'ele ot trové d'amors si flasche, Fust asproiés encore ung jor, Et eschaufés d'autel amor 1470 Dont il ne péust joie atendre; Si porroit savoir et entendre Quel duel ont li loial amant Que l'en refuse si vilment.

<< This prayer was but resonable, Therefor god held it ferme and stable: 1500 For Narcisus, shortly to telle, By aventure com to that welle To reste him in that shadowing A day, whan he com fro hunting. This Narcisus had suffred paynes 1505 For renning alday in the playnes, And was for thurst in greet distresse Of hete, and of his werinesse That hadde his breeth almost binomen. Whan he was to that welle y-comen, 1510 That shadwed was with braunches grene, He thoughte of thilke water shene To drinke and fresshe him wel withalle; And doun on knees he gan to falle, And forth his heed and nekke out-straughte 1515 To drinken of that welle a draughte And in the water anoon was sene His nose, his mouth, his yën shene, And he ther-of was al abasshed; His owne shadowe had him bitrasshed. 1520 For wel wende he the forme see Of a child of greet beautee.

>> Cele proiere fu resnable, Et por ce la fist Diex estable, Que Narcisus, par aventure, A la fontaine clere et pure Se vint sous le pin umbroier, Ung jour qu'il venoit d'archoier, 1480 Et avoit soffert grant travail De corre et amont et aval, Tant qu'il ot soif por l'aspreté Du chault, et por la lasseté Qui li ot tolue l'alaine. Et quant il vint à la fontaine Que li pins de ses rains covroit, Il se pensa que il bevroit: Sus la fontaine, tout adens Se mist lors por boivre dedans. 1490 Si vit en l'iaue clere et nete Son vis, son nés et sa bouchete, Et cis maintenant s'esbahi; Car ses umbres l'ot si trahi, Que cuida véoir la figure D'ung enfant bel à desmesure.

<< Wel couthe Love him wreke tho Of daunger and of pryde also, That Narcisus somtyme him bere. 1525 He quitte him wel his guerdon there; For he so musede in the welle, That, shortly al the sothe to telle, He lovede his owne shadowe so, That atte laste he starf for wo. 1530 For whan he saugh that he his wille Mighte in no maner wey fulfille, And that he was so faste caught That he him couthe comfort naught, He loste his wit right in that place, 1535 And deyde within a litel space. And thus his warisoun he took For the lady that he forsook. Ladyes, I preye ensample taketh, Ye that ayeins your love mistaketh: 1540 For if hir deeth be yow to wyte, God can ful wel your whyle quyte. Whan that this lettre, of whiche I telle, Had taught me that it was the welle Of Narcisus in his beautee, 1545 I gan anoon withdrawe me,

>> Lors se sot bien Amors vengier Du grant orguel et du dangier Que Narcisus li ot mené. Lors li fu bien guerredoné, 1500 Qu'il musa tant à la fontaine, Qu'il ama son umbre demaine, Si en fu mors à la parclose. Ce est la somme de la chose: Car quant il vit qu'il ne porroit Acomplir ce qu'il desirroit, Et qu'il i fu si pris par sort, Qu'il n'en pooit avoir confort En nule guise, n'en nul sens, Il perdi d'ire tout le sens, 1510 Et fu mors en poi de termine. Ainsinc si ot de la meschine Qu'il avoit d'amors escondite, Son guerredon et sa merite. Dames, cest exemple aprenés, Qui vers vos amis mesprenés; Car se vous les lessiés morir, Diex le vous sara bien merir. Quant li escris m'ot fait savoir Que ce estoit tretout por voir 1520 La fontaine au biau Narcisus, Je m'en trais lors ung poi en sus,

<< Whan it fel in my remembraunce, That him bitidde swich mischaunce. But at the laste than thoughte I, That scatheles, ful sikerly, 1550 I mighte unto THE WELLE go. THE WELLE. Wherof shulde I abasshen so? Unto the welle than wente I me, And doun I louted for to see The clere water in the stoon, 1555 And eek the gravel, which that shoon Down in the botme, as silver fyn; For of the welle, this is the fyn, In world is noon so cleer of hewe. The water is ever fresh and newe 1560 That welmeth up with wawes brighte The mountance of two finger highte. Abouten it is gras springing, For moiste so thikke and wel lyking, That it ne may in winter dye, 1565 No more than may the see be drye. Down at the botme set saw I Two cristal stones craftely In thilke fresshe and faire welle. But o thing soothly dar I telle, 1570

>> Que dedens n'osai regarder, Ains commençai à coarder, Quant de Narcisus me sovint, Cui malement en mesavint; Mès ge me pensai qu'asséur, Sans paor de mavés éur, A la fontaine aler pooie, Por folie m'en esmaioie. 1530 De la fontaine m'apressai, Quant ge fui près, si m'abessai Por véoir l'iaue qui coroit, Et la gravele qui paroit Au fons plus clere qu'argens fins, De la fontaine c'est la fins. En tout le monde n'ot si bele, L'iaue est tousdis fresche et novele, Qui nuit et jor sourt à grans ondes Par deux doiz creuses et parfondes. 1540 Tout entour point l'erbe menue, Qui vient por l'iaue espesse et drue, Et en iver ne puet morir Ne que l'iaue ne puet tarir. Où fons de la fontaine aval Avoit deux pierres de cristal Qu'à grande entente remirai, Et une chose vous dirai,

<< That ye wol holde a greet mervayle Whan it is told, withouten fayle. For whan the sonne, cleer in sighte, Cast in that welle his bemes brighte, And that the heet descended is, 1575 Than taketh the cristal stoon, y-wis, Agayn the sonne an hundred hewes, Blewe, yelowe, and rede, that fresh and newe is. Yit hath the merveilous cristal Swich strengthe, that the place overal, 1580 Bothe fowl and tree, and leves grene, And al the yerd in it is sene. And for to doon you understonde, To make ensample wol I fonde; Right as a mirour openly 1585 Sheweth al thing that stant therby, As wel the colour as the figure, Withouten any coverture; Right so the cristal stoon, shyning, Withouten any disceyving, 1590 The estres of the yerde accuseth To him that in the water museth; For ever, in which half that he be, He may wel half the gardin see;

>> Qu'à merveilles, ce cuit, tenrés Tout maintenant que vous l'orrés. 1550 Quant li solaus qui tout aguete, Ses rais en la fontaine giete, Et la clartés aval descent, Lors perent colors plus de cent Où cristal, qui por le soleil Devient ynde, jaune et vermeil: Si ot le cristal merveilleus Itel force que tous li leus, Arbres et flors et quanqu'aorne Li vergiers, i pert tout aorne; 1560 Et por faire la chose entendre, Un essample vous veil aprendre. Ainsinc cum li miréors montre Les choses qui li sunt encontre, Et y voit-l'en sans coverture Et lor color, et lor figure; Tretout ausinc vous dis por voir, Que li cristal, sans décevoir, Tout l'estre du vergier accusent A ceus qui dedens l'iaue musent: 1570 Car tous jours quelque part qu'il soient, L'une moitié du vergier voient;

<< And if he turne, he may right wel 1595 Seen the remenaunt everydel. For ther is noon so litel thing So hid, ne closed with shitting, That it ne is sene, as though it were Peynted in the cristal there. 1600 This is the mirour perilous, In which the proude Narcisus Saw al his face fair and bright, That made him sith to lye upright. For who-so loke in that mirour, 1605 Ther may no-thing ben his socour That he ne shal ther seen som thing That shal him lede into [loving]. Ful many a worthy man hath it Y-blent; for folk of grettest wit 1610 Ben sone caught here and awayted; Withouten respyt been they bayted. Heer comth to folk of-newe rage, Heer chaungeth many wight corage; Heer lyth no reed ne wit therto; 1615 For Venus sone, daun Cupido, Hath sowen there of love the seed, That help ne lyth ther noon, ne reed,

>> Et s'il se tornent maintenant, Pueent véoir le remenant. Si n'i a si petite chose, Tant reposte, ne tant enclose, Dont démonstrance n'i soit faite, Cum s'ele iert es cristaus portraite. C'est li miréoirs périlleus, Où Narcisus li orguilleus 1580 Mira sa face et ses yex vers, Dont il jut puis mors tout envers. Qui en cel miréor se mire, Ne puet avoir garant de mire, Que tel chose à ses yex ne voie, Qui d'amer l'a tost mis en voie. Maint vaillant homme a mis à glaive Cis miréors, car li plus saive, Li plus preus, li miex afetié I sunt tost pris et aguetié. 1590 Ci sourt as gens novele rage, Ici se changent li corage; Ci n'a mestier sens, ne mesure, Ci est d'amer volenté pure; Ci ne se set conseiller nus; Car Cupido, li fils Venus,

<< So cercleth it the welle aboute. His ginnes hath he set withoute 1620 Right for to cacche in his panteres These damoysels and bacheleres. Love wil noon other bridde cacche, Though he sette either net or lacche. And for the seed that heer was sowen, 1625 This welle is cleped, as wel is knowen, The Welle of Love, of verray right, Of which ther hath ful many a wight Spoke in bokes dyversely. But they shulle never so verily 1630 Descripcioun of the welle here, Ne eek the sothe of this matere, As ye shulle, whan I have undo The craft that hir bilongeth to. Alway me lyked for to dwelle, 1635 To seen the cristal in the welle, That shewed me ful openly A thousand thinges faste by. But I may saye, in sory houre Stood I to loken or to poure; 1640 For sithen [have] I sore syked, That mirour hath me now entryked.

>> Sema ici d'Amors la graine Qui toute a çainte la fontaine; Et fist ses las environ tendre, Et ses engins i mist por prendre 1600 Damoiseles et Damoisiaus; Qu'Amors ne velt autres oisiaus. Por la graine qui fu semée, Fu cele fontaine clamée La Fontaine d'Amors par droit, Dont plusors ont en maint endroit Parlé, en romans et en livre; Mais jamès n'orrez miex descrivre La verité de la matere, Cum ge la vous vodré retrere. 1610 Adès me plot à demorer A la fontaine, et remirer Les deus cristaus qui me monstroient Mil choses qui ilec estoient. Mès de fort hore m'i miré: Las! tant en ai puis souspiré! Cis miréors m'a decéu; Se j'éusse avant cognéu

<< But hadde I first knowen in my wit The vertue and [the] strengthe of it, I nolde not have mused there; 1645 Me hadde bet ben elles-where; For in the snare I fel anoon, That hath bitraisshed many oon. In thilke mirour saw I tho, Among a thousand thinges mo, 1650 A ROSER charged ful of roses, THE ROSER. That with an hegge aboute enclos is. Tho had I swich lust and envye, That, for Parys ne for Pavye, Nolde I have left to goon and see 1655 Ther grettest hepe of roses be. Whan I was with this rage hent, That caught hath many a man and shent, Toward the roser gan I go. And whan I was not fer therfro, 1660 The savour of the roses swote Me smoot right to the herte rote, As I hadde al embawmed [be.] And if I ne hadde endouted me To have ben hated or assailed, 1665 My thankes, wolde I not have failed

>> Quex sa force ert et sa vertu, Ne m'i fusse jà embatu: 1620 Car meintenant où las chaï Qui meint homme ont pris et traï. Où miroer entre mil choses, Choisi rosiers chargiés de roses, Qui estoient en ung détor D'une haie clos tout entor: Adont m'en prist si grant envie, Que ne laissasse por Pavie, Ne por Paris, que ge n'alasse Là où ge vi la greignor masse. 1630 Quant cele rage m'ot si pris, Dont maint ont esté entrepris, Vers les rosiers tantost me très; Et sachiés que quant g'en fui près, L'oudor des roses savorées M'entra ens jusques es corées, Que por noient fusse embasmés: Se assailli ou mesamés

<< To pulle a rose of al that route To beren in myn honde aboute, And smellen to it wher I wente; But ever I dredde me to repente, 1670 And lest it greved or for-thoughte The lord that thilke gardyn wroughte. Of roses were ther gret woon, So faire wexe never in roon. Of knoppes clos, some saw I there, 1675 And some wel beter woxen were; And some ther been of other moysoun, That drowe nigh to hir sesoun, And spedde hem faste for to sprede; I love wel swiche roses rede; 1680 For brode roses, and open also, Ben passed in a day or two; But knoppes wilen fresshe be Two dayes atte leest, or three. The knoppes gretly lyked me, 1685 For fairer may ther no man see. Who-so mighte haven oon of alle, It oughte him been ful leef withalle. Mighte I [a] gerlond of hem geten, For no richesse I wolde it leten. 1690

>> Ne cremisse estre, g'en cuillisse, Au mains une que ge tenisse 1640 En ma main, por l'odor sentir; Mès paor oi du repentir: Car il en péust de legier Peser au seignor du vergier. Des roses i ot grans monciaus, Si beles ne vit homs sous ciaus; Boutons i ot petit et clos, Et tiex qui sunt ung poi plus gros. Si en i ot d'autre moison Qui se traient à lor soison, 1650 Et s'aprestoient d'espanir, Et cil ne font pas à haïr. Les roses overtes et lées Sunt en ung jor toutes alées; Mès li bouton durent trois frois A tout le mains deux jors ou trois. Icil bouton forment me plurent, Oncques plus bel nul leu ne crurent. Qui en porroit ung acroichier, Il le devroit avoir moult chier; 1660 S'ung chapel en péusse avoir, Je n'en préisse nul avoir.

<< Among THE KNOPPES I chees oon THE KNOPPE. So fair, that of the remenaunt noon Ne preyse I half so wel as it, Whan I avyse it in my wit. For it so wel was enlumyned 1695 With colour reed, as wel [y]-fyned As nature couthe it make faire. And it had leves wel foure paire, That Kinde had set through his knowing Aboute the rede rose springing. 1700 The stalke was as risshe right, And theron stood the knoppe upright, That it ne bowed upon no syde. The swote smelle sprong so wyde That it dide al the place aboute-- 1705

>> Entre ces boutons en eslui Ung si très-bel, qu'envers celui Nus des autres riens ne prisié, Puis que ge l'oi bien avisié: Car une color l'enlumine, Qui est si vermeille et si fine, Com Nature la pot plus faire. Des foilles i ot quatre paire 1670 Que Nature par grant mestire I ot assises tire à tire. La coe ot droite comme jons, Et par dessus siet li boutons, Si qu'il ne cline, ne ne pent. L'odor de lui entor s'espent; La soatime qui en ist Toute la place replenist. 1678

G. = Glasgow MS.; Th. = Thynne's ed. (1532).

1-44. Lost in G.; from Th. 3. Th. some sweuen; but the pl. is required. 4. Th. that false ne bene. 5. Th. apparaunt. 6. Th. warraunt. 12. Th. els; om. a. 13, 14. Th. fal, cal; fole.

23. Th. folke; went. 25. Th. slepte. 26. Th. suche. 27. Th. lyked; wele. 28. Th. dele. 29. Th. afterwarde befal. 30. Th. dreme; tel; al. 31. Th. Nowe; dreme. 35. Th. there. 37. Th. Howe; om. that and the. 38. Th. hatte; read hote.

39. Ed. 1550, Romaunte. 40. Th. arte. 42. Th. graunt me in; omit me. 45. Here begins G. 46. Th. to be; G. torn. 47. Th. G. ought. 49. G. Th. thought. 55. G. Th. bene. 56. G. Th. wrene. 59. G. erth. G. Th. proude. 61. G. Th. forgette. 62. G. Th. had; sette.

66. G. Th. had. 69-72. Imperfect in G. 72. G. so; Th. ful. 73. Th. grylle; G. gryl. 73, 74. G. Th. sight, bright. 76. Th. herte; G. hertis. G. sich. 80. G. om. a. 81. G. om. the. 82. Th. yonge; G. yong. 84. Th. sauorous; G. sauerous. 85. Th. his herte; G. the hert.

89. G. blesful; Th. blysful. 91. G. affraieth; Th. affirmeth. G. Th. al. 96. G. wisshe; hondis. 97. Th. nedyl. G. droughe; Th. drowe. 98. Th. aguyler; G. Aguler. G. ynoughe; Th. ynowe. 101. Th. sowne; G. song. 102. Th. on; G. in. Both buskes. 103. G. om. the. G. swete; Th. lefe. 107. Th. That; G. They. G. om. a. 109. Th. Iolyfe; G. Ioly.

110. Both gan I. 111. G. herd; fast. 113. Both ryuere. 114. Both nere. 117-120. Imperfect in G. 121. Perhaps om. that. 123, 4. G. Th. ryuere, clere. 126. Th. botome ypaued. 132. G. walk thorough.

138. G. Th. Enclosed was; see l. 1652. 139. Th. hye; G. high. 142. G. the ymages and the peyntures; Th. the ymages and peyntures. 146. G. haue in; Th. om. in. 147. Th. Amydde; G. Amyd. 149. Both mynoresse; French, moverresse. 154. Both wode. 155. G. om. Y-.

160. Th. ywrithen; G. writhen. 163. G. om. faste. 165, 6. Both Felony, Vil(l)any. 167. Th. Ycleped; G. Clepid. Both fonde. 168. G. wal; Th. wall. Both honde. 174. Both outragious. 176. Th. suche an ymage.

184. G. gret tresouris; Th. gret treasours. G. leyne; Th. layne. 185. G. om. she. 188. Th. couetous; G. coueitise. 189. G. om. she. Th. for; G. that. 196. Both myscoueiting. 198. Both om. that. 203. Both wode.

204. Both gode. 208. Both fast. 212. Th. any; G. ony. 214. Both semed to haue. 219. G. porely; Th. poorely. 220. Both courtpy. 224. Th. mantel; G. mantyl. Both fast.

234. Th. ilke; G. ilk. 239. Th. helde; G. hilde. 240. Both om. doun. 241, 2. Th. stronge, longe; G. strong, long. 245, 6. Both entent, went. 248. Both peynted. 249, 250. Both in hir herte. G. farede, herede; Th. ferde, herde.

255. Perhaps read On ... to falle. 256. Both om. ful. 259. Th. shamful; G. shynful. 261. Both or by his prowesse. 264. Th. chaunce; G. chaunge. 266. G. trouth. 271. G. farede; Th. fared. 273. Both male talent; see 330.

275. G. hath; Th. hate. I supply wo. 276. Read melt'th or melt. 277. Both so (for to-). 278. Th. people; G. puple. 282. Both best. 291. G. Th. awrie. 292. G. -thart; Th. -twharte, misprint for -thwart. 293. I supply eek. G. om. a foul. 296. G. hir eien; Th. her one eye.

298. Both se. 299. So Th.; G. fairer or worthier. 303. G. seyn; Th. sene. 305. Both to haue; read hav-ë. Th. iaundice. 307. I supply as. 310. Th. yelowe; G. yolare.

324. Both rent. 333-380. Lost in G; from Th. 334. Th. had sene. 340. Th. rechelesse. 341. Th. rought. 342. I supply of.

344. Th. luste; play. 349. Th. contrarie. 352. Th. might. 356. Th. for hore.

367, 368. Th. went, potent. 370. Th. restlesse. 379. Supply er (Kaluza). 381. G. begins again. 382. Both may neuer. 387. Both frette. Th. shal; G. shalle. 388. Th. al; G. alle. 389. Th. al; G. alle. 390. Both al.

398. Both myght. 401. Both witte; pithe; in. 404. Both faire. 408. Th. cappe.

421. Th. symple; G. semely. 435. G. ne fresh; Th. om. ne. 436. Both to be.

442. Both ay (giving no sense); read shal. 444. Both grace (for face). 446. G. om. hem. 448. G. om. eek. 452. I supply that. 455. G. wedir; Th. wether. 456. G. deyd; Th. dyed. 462. Both had.

466. G. pouer. 467. G. shamefast; dispised. 471. G. ony pouere; fedde. Th. yfedde. 472. G. cledde; Th. ycledde. 478. Th. were; G. newe. 479. Both Square. 480. Th. ybarred; G. barred. 483. Both wrought. 485. G. laddris; Th. ladders; read laddre; see 523.

489. Both As was in. 492. G. yeer; Th. yere; read yerd; see 656. 494. Th. Therin; G. Therynne. 498. Both ought. 501. Th. hundred; G. hundreth. Both wolde (by confusion). 503. Both be. 505. Both kepe it fro care; a false rime. 506. Both ware; a false spelling. 510. Both weymentyng.

512. Both into. 516. Both where; read o-where. 517. Both myght. 520. Both For; read Ful. G. angwishis; see F. text. 532. I supply 1st so.

535. G. and of herknyng; Th. al herkenyng. 536. G. ony; Th. any; read a. 537. G. om. the. 540. G. ony; Th. any. 541. I supply 1st as. 542. Both bent. 546. Both as is a; omit is or a. 558. G. snawe; Th. snowe. G. snawed; Th. snowed.

560. G. neded; Th. neden. 564. Some lines lost? 567. I supply in honde. 568. Th. tressour; G. tresour; (cf. Gawain, 1739). 569. Both queyntly; see l. 783. 570. Both fetously; see l. 577.

583. Both but if; om. if. 586. Both may; see l. 538. 587, 588. Both myght, hyght. 592. G. answeride; Th. answerde. 603. G. hidre be; Th. hyther be. Both fette. 604. G. sette; Th. ysette.

605. Both hight. 606. Both sight. 617. Th. therin; G. therynne. 623. Th. playen in; G. pleyn ynne.

631. Th. Than; G. Thanne. 645, 653. Th. in; G. Inne. 654. Both thought.

655. Th. byrde; G. bridde; read brid. 660. Both places (badly). 661. Both might. 668. Both That (for These). 673. Th. whan; G. that. Th. herde; G. herd. 676. Both myght.

684. Both clepe. 688. Th. But; G. For. Both om. hir. 699. Th. gardyn; G. gardyne. 700. G. inne; Th. in.

701. G. hens-; wrought. 702. Both thought. 709. Both wrought. 716. Th. her; G. their. Th. iargonyng; G. yarkonyng. 718. Th. ispronge; G. spronge. 720. Th. reuelrye; G. reuerye; see French. 724. Th. in; G. inne.

728. Both sight (wrongly). 732. Th. faste; G. fast. Both without. 739. Th. whence; G. whenne. Both might. 741, 2. Both sight, bright. 743. Th. These; G. This. 745. Both hyght. 746. Both blisfull. Th. and lyght; G. and the light; see 797. 749. Both add couthe before make.

760. I supply ther. 761. Both made (for make). 770. Th. saylours; G. saillouris. 773. Both, hente; I supply hem.

776. G. damysels; Th. damosels. 782. Both lieth. 783. Both queyntly; see l. 569. 791. Both bode; read bede; see note. 798. Both pray to God.

801. I supply neer. 806. Both it to me liked. 811. Both right blythe; om. right. 812. Th. Than; G. Thanne. 819. Th. appel; G. appille.

834. Both first. 836. Both samette. 837. Both beten ful; om. ful. 844. Both drury. 845. Th. rosen; G. rosyn.

848. Both gladnesse. 859. G. seye; Th. sey (for say_n_). 860. G. pleye; Th. pley (for pley_n_). 861. Both Bent. 863. Both laugheden. 865. Both I wot not what of hir nose I shal descryve (eleven syllables). 866. Two lines lost.

869. Th. orfrayes. 870. Th. whiche; G. which. Th. sene; G. seyen. 873. Th. samyte; G. samet. 875, 6. Th. werde, ferde; G. werede, ferede. Both ins. hir bef. herte. 877. Th. on; G. in. 879. Both Love, and as hym likith it be. 887. Th. prise; G. preyse. 890. Th. ycladde; G. clad. 891. G. and in; Th. om. in. 892. From Th.; G. om.

893. Th. losenges; G. losynges. 897. Th. Ypurtrayed; G. Portreied. Th. ywrought; G. wrought. 900. Th. Yset; G. Sett. 902. Th. moche; G. mych. 903, 4. Both peruynke, thynke. 906. G. -melled; Th. -medled; see l. 898.

923. Both Turke bowes two, full wel deuysed had he (too long). 928. Th. any; G. ony. 929, 930. Th. plante, warante; G. plant, warant. Both Without. 932. G. Treitys; Th. Trectes. Both ins. ful after of. 933. G. twythen; Th. thwitten (printed twhitten). 936. I supply ful. 939. Th. helde; G. hilde.

942. Th. aryght; G. right. 944. G. peynted (!). 945. Th. sharpe; G. sharp. Th. wele; G. welle. 946. Th. stele; G. steelle. 948. Th. Out take; G. Outake. 953. G. lasse; Th. lesse. 958. Th. companye; G. compaigny. 959. Both shoten; see l. 989. 960. For right read nigh (K.).

964. Both leest. 969. Th. soner; G. sonner. 970. Th. Hys; G. Hir. Th. ought be; G. ought to be. 973. Both for to telle. 984. Both on; read of (K.).

991. Both And contrarye. 998. Th. booke; G. book. 1007. G. Th. And; read As was; F. Ainsinc cum. 1010. I supply is.

1015. For As read And (K.). 1017. Both smale. 1018. Both wyntred; see l. 1020. 1026. Both thought; read thinketh (K.). 1031. Both Sore (!); read Wys (?). 1034. Both And hight (!).

1037. Both in werk (!). 1043. G. and the; Th. om. the. 1045. Th. weren; G. were. 1058. Th. But; G. And. Th. prill; G. prile; prob. error for prike, or prikke.

1062. Th. and wyse; G. ywys. 1063. G. haue do; Th. and ydon. 1065. Th. And maketh; G. Haue maad. 1066. G. om. as. Both ought. 1068. Th. aryued; G. achyued. 1071. G. purpur; Th. purple. 1073. Th. it; G. hir. 1080. Th. amyled; Speght, ameled; G. enameled. 1082. G. shete; Th. shette.

1089. Both durst (!); read thurte or thurfte. 1092. Th. mannes; G. man. 1098. G. om. of. Both tothe. 1101. Th. thylke; G. thilk. 1102. Both myght.

1109. Both light. 1111. Th. he; G. she. 1112. Both deuyse. 1116. Th. the; G. that. 1117. Both ragounces (!). 1125. Morris supplies tho. 1132. G. mych.

1134. Th. loued wel to haue; G. loued to haue well. 1137. Th. an; G. ony. 1139. Th. ben; G. be. 1141. Th. Was; G. And. 1142. Th. or defence; G. of diffense. 1144. Th. dispences; G. dispence. 1146. Th. for to spende; G. for to dispende; see 1157. 1147. Th. lackynge; G. lakke. 1150. Th. sette; G. settith.

1162. G. om. wys. 1166. Th. craftely; G. tristely. 1172. Th. nygarde; G. nygart. 1176. G. om. him. 1178. Th. wyl; G. wille. 1182. Th. adamant; G. adamaund.

1187. Th. fresshe; G. fresh. 1188. G. sarlynysh; Th. Sarlynyssche. 1199. Both sibbe. Th. Arthour; G. Artour. Th. Breteigne; G. Britaigne. 1200. Th. enseigne; G, ensaigne. 1201. Both gousfaucoun. 1205. Both newly. 1206. Th. tourneyeng; G. tourneryng.

1207. Th. There; G. The. 1210. Both He caste. 1214. Th. yfallen; G. falle. 1219. Th. on; G. of. 1221. Both durst. 1227, 8. Both bistadde, adradde. 1230. Th. taswage.

1233. Th. hempe; G. hempe ne (for hempene). 1235. G. ridled; Th. ryddeled. 1236. G. om. nat. Both a; read oo. 1238. Th. yclothed; G. clothed. 1243; see 1235. 1244. Both Bitokeneth. 1247, 8. Both hight.

1255. Th. om. right. 1259. G. and of; Th. om. of. 1261. G. om. 1st no. 1263. G. wenaunt (!). 1265. G. om. were. 1274. Both fast. 1275. Both without.

1282. Both And she; read Youthe; see 1302. 1288. Th. yonge; G. yong. Th. wel; G. wole. 1303. Both that; read thus; see 1310.

1307. Both faire; truly (truely). 1308. Both were. 1313. G. loreyes; Th. Laurelles. 1315. Th. ended; G. eended (=y-ended?). 1323. Both myght. 1324. Both durst (for thurte). 1326. Both As to haue.

1332. Both she (for 2nd he). 1334. Both hadde (for bad); bent; om. it. 1335. I supply it. Both an (for on). 1339. Both sittith. 1340. Both he kepe me; (om. he). 1341. G. hadde me shette; Th. had me shete. 1342. G. mette; Th. mete. 1343. Both had me greued. 1348. Both hadde in all the gardyn be.

1359. G. of gret; Th. om. of. 1360. Th. nuttes. 1363. Both almandres. 1365. Th. weren; G. wexen. 1366. Read Throughout the yerd? 1369. Th. Gyngere; G. Gyngevre. Both Parys (!). 1375. Th. plommes. Th. chesteynis; G. chesteyns. 1376. G. Cherys; Th. Cheryse. G. which.

1379. Th. laurer; G. lorey (!). 1381. G. olyuers; Th. olyueris. 1384. Both oke. 1386-1482. Lost in G. 1397, 8. Th. knytte, sytte; see Parl. Fo. 628. 1399. Th. myght there noon. 1400. I supply it.

1403. Th. bowe; Speght, bough (twice). 1404. Th. Connes. 1405, 6. Th. clapers, maners. 1411, 2. Th. wel, tel. 1413, 4. Th. deuyse, condyse 1423. Th. the erthe; see 1428. 1424. Th. wel.

1425. Th. Spronge; see l. 1419. 1428. Th. suche. 1429. Th. hath. 1431. Th. vyolet. 1440. Th. dilectable. 1445, 6. Th. lefte. 1447. Th. garden; read yerde in (K.); cf. 1366 (note). 1448. Th. efters (!).

1452. Th. beest. 1453. Th. shoten; read shete. 1453. Th. goodmesse; see 3462. 1456. Th. Besydes. 1474. Th. that hight; (om. that).

1482. Th. feirs. 1483. G. begins again. 1485. G. om. hir. 1486. Th. hert. 1488. Th. without. 1489. Th. deyde; G. dide. 1495. Both might to; I omit to. 1496. Th. Than; G. And that. Th. shulde he; G. he shulde. 1498. G. velaynesly; Th. vilaynously.

1500. Th. ferme; G. forme. 1503. G. resten; Th. rest. G. that; Th. the. 1508. G. heet; Th. herte (for heete). 1510. Both wel. Th. y-comen; G. comen. 1515. G. he straught; Th. out-straught. 1516. Both draught. 1517, 8. G. seen, sheen; Th. sene, shene. 1520. Th. had; G. was.

1527. Both musede so. 1528. Th. om. al. 1534: Both comforte.

1550. G. scathles; Th. scathlesse. 1552. Th. abasshen; G. abaisshen. 1553. From Th.; not in G. 1561, 2. Both bright, hight. 1563. Both Aboute.

1573, 4. Both sight, bright. 1581. Both foule. 1583. Both you to; I omit to. 1585. Both mirrour. 1586. G. stondith; Th. stondeth. 1591. Both entrees. 1593, 4. Both ye (for he).

1601, 1605. Both mirrour. 1604. So Th.; G. swithe to ligge. 1605. Th. loke; G. loketh. 1608. Both laughyng (!); read loving. 1609. G. om. a. 1610. Th. Y-blent; G. Blent. 1617. Th. sowen; G. sowne.

1621, 2. Both panters, bachelers. 1638. G. fast; Th. faste. 1641. I supply have. Both sighed (for syked). 1642, 9. Both mirrour.

1644. Th. vertue; G. vertues. I supply the. Both strengthes; read strengthe. 1646. Both had. 1648. G. bitrisshed; Th. bytresshed. 1649. Th. thylke; G. thilk. 1652. Th. enclos; G. enclosid. 1655. G. att (for and). 1663. Th. G. me; read be (F. fusse). 1666. So Th.; G. Me thankis. G. wole; Th. wol; read wolde.

1668. Both bere. 1671, 2. Both -thought, wrought. 1673. Both ther were; both wone. 1674. Th. ware; G. waxe; both Rone. 1679. Th. faste; G. fast. 1683. G. will_e_; Th. wyl. Th. fresshe; G. fresh. 1687. Both myght haue. 1688. G. lief; Th. lefe. 1689. I supply a.

1694. G. it in; Th. om. it. 1695. G. enlomyned. 1698. Both hath; om. wel? 1700. Both roses. 1701. Th. rysshe; G. rish. 1705. Th. dyed (for dide; wrongly). 1705, 6. A false rime; l. 1705 is incomplete in sense, as the sentence has no verb. Here the genuine portion ends. L. 1706 is by another hand.

FRAGMENT B.

Whan I had smelled the savour swote, No wille hadde I fro thens yit go, But somdel neer it wente I tho, To take it; but myn hond, for drede, Ne dorste I to the rose bede, 1710 For thistels sharpe, of many maneres, Netles, thornes, and hoked breres; [Ful] muche they distourbled me, For sore I dradde to harmed be. The God of Love, with bowe bent, 1715 That al day set hadde his talent To pursuen and to spyen me, Was stonding by a fige-tree. And whan he sawe how that I Had chosen so ententifly 1720 The botoun, more unto my pay Than any other that I say, He took an arowe ful sharply whet, And in his bowe whan it was set, He streight up to his ere drough 1725 The stronge bowe, that was so tough, And shet at me so wonder smerte, That through myn eye unto myn herte The takel smoot, and depe it wente. And ther-with-al such cold me hente, 1730 That, under clothes warme and softe, Sith that day I have chevered ofte. Whan I was hurt thus in [that] stounde, I fel doun plat unto the grounde. Myn herte failed and feynted ay, 1735 And long tyme [ther] a-swone I lay. But whan I com out of swoning, And hadde wit, and my feling, I was al maat, and wende ful wel Of blood have loren a ful gret del. 1740 But certes, the arowe that in me stood Of me ne drew no drope of blood, For-why I found my wounde al dreye. Than took I with myn hondis tweye The arowe, and ful fast out it plight, 1745 And in the pulling sore I sight. So at the last the shaft of tree I drough out, with the fethers three. But yet the hoked heed, y-wis, The whiche Beautee callid is, 1750 Gan so depe in myn herte passe, That I it mighte nought arace; But in myn herte stille it stood, Al bledde I not a drope of blood. I was bothe anguissous and trouble 1755 For the peril that I saw double; I niste what to seye or do, Ne gete a leche my woundis to; For neithir thurgh gras ne rote, Ne hadde I help of hope ne bote. 1760 But to the botoun ever-mo Myn herte drew; for al my wo, My thought was in non other thing. For hadde it been in my keping, It wolde have brought my lyf agayn. 1765 For certeinly, I dar wel seyn, The sight only, and the savour, Alegged muche of my langour. Than gan I for to drawe me Toward the botoun fair to see; 1770 And Love hadde gete him, in [a] throwe, Another arowe into his bowe, And for to shete gan him dresse; The arowis name was Simplesse. And whan that Love gan nyghe me nere, 1775 He drow it up, withouten were, And shet at me with al his might, So that this arowe anon-right Thourghout [myn] eigh, as it was founde, Into myn herte hath maad a wounde. 1780 Thanne I anoon dide al my crafte For to drawen out the shafte, And ther-with-al I sighed eft. But in myn herte the heed was left, Which ay encresid my desyre, 1785 Unto the botoun drawe nere; And ever, mo that me was wo, The more desyr hadde I to go Unto the roser, where that grew The fresshe botoun so bright of hewe. 1790 Betir me were have leten be; But it bihoved nedes me To don right as myn herte bad. For ever the body must be lad Aftir the herte; in wele and wo, 1795 Of force togidre they must go. But never this archer wolde fyne To shete at me with alle his pyne, And for to make me to him mete. The thridde arowe he gan to shete, 1800 Whan best his tyme he mighte espye, The which was named Curtesye; Into myn herte it dide avale. A-swone I fel, bothe deed and pale; Long tyme I lay, and stired nought, 1805 Til I abraid out of my thought. And faste than I avysed me To drawen out the shafte of tree; But ever the heed was left bihinde For ought I couthe pulle or winde. 1810 So sore it stikid whan I was hit, That by no craft I might it flit; But anguissous and ful of thought, I felte such wo, my wounde ay wrought, That somoned me alway to go 1815 Toward the rose, that plesed me so; But I ne durste in no manere, Bicause the archer was so nere. For evermore gladly, as I rede, Brent child of fyr hath muche drede. 1820 And, certis yit, for al my peyne, Though that I sigh yit arwis reyne, And grounde quarels sharpe of stele, Ne for no payne that I might fele, Yit might I not my-silf withholde 1825 The faire roser to biholde; For Love me yaf sich hardement For to fulfille his comaundement. Upon my feet I roos up than Feble, as a forwoundid man; 1830 And forth to gon [my] might I sette, And for the archer nolde I lette. Toward the roser fast I drow; But thornes sharpe mo than y-now Ther were, and also thistels thikke, 1835 And breres, brimme for to prikke, That I ne mighte gete grace The rowe thornes for to passe, To sene the roses fresshe of hewe. I must abide, though it me rewe, 1840 The hegge aboute so thikke was, That closid the roses in compas. But o thing lyked me right wele; I was so nygh, I mighte fele Of the botoun the swote odour, 1845 And also see the fresshe colour; And that right gretly lyked me, That I so neer it mighte see. Sich Ioye anoon therof hadde I, That I forgat my malady. 1850 To sene [it] hadde I sich delyt, Of sorwe and angre I was al quit, And of my woundes that I had thar; For no-thing lyken me might mar Than dwellen by the roser ay, 1855 And thennes never to passe away. But whan a whyle I had be thar, The God of Love, which al to-shar Myn herte with his arwis kene, Caste him to yeve me woundis grene. 1860 He shet at me ful hastily An arwe named Company, The whiche takel is ful able To make these ladies merciable. Than I anoon gan chaungen hewe 1865 For grevaunce of my wounde newe, That I agayn fel in swoning, And sighed sore in compleyning. Sore I compleyned that my sore On me gan greven more and more. 1870 I had non hope of allegeaunce; So nigh I drow to desperaunce, I rought of dethe ne of lyf, Whither that love wolde me dryf. If me a martir wolde he make, 1875 I might his power nought forsake. And whyl for anger thus I wook, The God of Love an arowe took; Ful sharp it was and [ful] pugnaunt, And it was callid Fair-Semblaunt, 1880 The which in no wys wol consente, That any lover him repente To serve his love with herte and alle, For any peril that may bifalle. But though this arwe was kene grounde 1885 As any rasour that is founde, To cutte and kerve, at the poynt, The God of Love it hadde anoynt With a precious oynement, Somdel to yeve aleggement 1890 Upon the woundes that he had Through the body in my herte maad, To helpe hir sores, and to cure, And that they may the bet endure. But yit this arwe, withoute more, 1895 Made in myn herte a large sore, That in ful gret peyne I abood. But ay the oynement wente abrood; Throughout my woundes large and wyde It spredde aboute in every syde; 1900 Through whos vertu and whos might Myn herte Ioyful was and light. I had ben deed and al to-shent But for the precious oynement. The shaft I drow out of the arwe, 1905 Roking for wo right wondir narwe; But the heed, which made me smerte, Lefte bihinde in myn herte With other foure, I dar wel say, That never wol be take away; 1910 But the oynement halp me wele. And yit sich sorwe dide I fele, That al-day I chaunged hewe, Of my woundes fresshe and newe, As men might see in my visage. 1915 The arwis were so fulle of rage, So variaunt of diversitee, That men in everich mighte see Bothe gret anoy and eek swetnesse, And Ioye meynt with bittirnesse. 1920 Now were they esy, now were they wood, In hem I felte bothe harm and good; Now sore without aleggement, Now softening with oynement; It softned here, and prikked there, 1925 Thus ese and anger togider were. The God of Love deliverly Com lepand to me hastily, And seide to me, in gret rape, 'Yeld thee, for thou may not escape! 1930 May no defence availe thee here; Therfore I rede mak no daungere. If thou wolt yelde thee hastily, Thou shalt [the] rather have mercy. He is a fool in sikernesse, 1935 That with daunger or stoutnesse Rebellith ther that he shulde plese; In such folye is litel ese. Be meek, wher thou must nedis bowe; To stryve ageyn is nought thy prowe. 1940 Come at ones, and have y-do, For I wol that it be so. Than yeld thee here debonairly.' And I answerid ful humbly, 'Gladly, sir; at your bidding, 1945 I wol me yelde in alle thing. To your servyse I wol me take; For god defende that I shulde make Ageyn your bidding resistence; I wol not doon so gret offence; 1950 For if I dide, it were no skile. Ye may do with me what ye wile, Save or spille, and also sloo; Fro you in no wyse may I go. My lyf, my deth, is in your honde, 1955 I may not laste out of your bonde. Pleyn at your list I yelde me, Hoping in herte, that sumtyme ye Comfort and ese shulle me sende; Or ellis shortly, this is the ende, 1960 Withouten helthe I moot ay dure, But-if ye take me to your cure. Comfort or helthe how shuld I have, Sith ye me hurte, but ye me save? The helthe of lovers moot be founde 1965 Wher-as they token firste hir wounde. And if ye list of me to make Your prisoner, I wol it take Of herte and wil, fully at gree. Hoolly and pleyn I yelde me, 1970 Withoute feyning or feyntyse, To be governed by your empryse. Of you I here so much prys, I wol ben hool at your devys For to fulfille your lyking 1975 And repente for no-thing, Hoping to have yit in som tyde Mercy, of that [that] I abyde.' And with that covenaunt yeld I me, Anoon doun kneling upon my knee, 1980 Profering for to kisse his feet; But for no-thing he wolde me lete, And seide, 'I love thee bothe and preyse, Sen that thyn answer doth me ese, For thou answerid so curteisly. 1985 For now I wot wel uttirly, That thou art gentil, by thy speche. For though a man fer wolde seche, He shulde not finden, in certeyn, No sich answer of no vileyn; 1990 For sich a word ne mighte nought Isse out of a vilayns thought. Thou shalt not lesen of thy speche, For [to] thy helping wol I eche, And eek encresen that I may. 1995 But first I wol that thou obay Fully, for thyn avauntage, Anon to do me here homage. And sithen kisse thou shalt my mouth, Which to no vilayn was never couth 2000 For to aproche it, ne for to touche; For sauf of cherlis I ne vouche That they shulle never neigh it nere. For curteys, and of fair manere, Wel taught, and ful of gentilnesse 2005 He muste ben, that shal me kisse, And also of ful high fraunchyse, That shal atteyne to that empryse. And first of o thing warne I thee, That peyne and gret adversitee 2010 He mot endure, and eek travaile, That shal me serve, withoute faile. But ther-ageyns, thee to comforte, And with thy servise to desporte, Thou mayst ful glad and Ioyful be 2015 So good a maister to have as me, And lord of so high renoun. I bere of Love the gonfanoun, Of Curtesye the banere; For I am of the silf manere, 2020 Gentil, curteys, meek and free; That who [so] ever ententif be Me to honoure, doute, and serve, And also that he him observe Fro trespas and fro vilanye, 2025 And him governe in curtesye With wil and with entencioun; For whan he first in my prisoun Is caught, than muste he uttirly, Fro thennes-forth ful bisily, 2030 Caste him gentil for to be, If he desyre helpe of me.' Anoon withouten more delay, Withouten daunger or affray, I bicom his man anoon, 2035 And gave him thankes many a oon, And kneled doun with hondis Ioynt, And made it in my port ful queynt; The Ioye wente to myn herte rote. Whan I had kissed his mouth so swote, 2040 I had sich mirthe and sich lyking, It cured me of languisshing. He askid of me than hostages:-- I have,' he seide, 'taken fele homages Of oon and other, where I have been 2045 Disceyved ofte, withouten wene. These felouns, fulle of falsitee, Have many sythes bigyled me, And through falshede hir lust acheved, Wherof I repente and am agreved. 2050 And I hem gete in my daungere, Hir falshed shulie they bye ful dere. But for I love thee, I seye thee pleyn, I wol of thee be more certeyn; For thee so sore I wol now binde, 2055 That thou away ne shalt not winde For to denyen the covenaunt, Or doon that is not avenaunt. That thou were fals it were gret reuthe, Sith thou semest so ful of treuthe.' 2060 'Sire, if thee list to undirstande, I merveile thee asking this demande. For-why or wherfore shulde ye Ostages or borwis aske of me, Or any other sikirnesse, 2065 Sith ye wote, in sothfastnesse, That ye have me surprysed so, And hool myn herte taken me fro, That it wol do for me no-thing But-if it be at your bidding? 2070 Myn herte is yours, and myn right nought, As it bihoveth, in dede and thought, Redy in alle to worche your wille, Whether so [it] turne to good or ille. So sore it lustith you to plese, 2075 No man therof may you disseise. Ye have theron set sich Iustise, That it is werreyd in many wise. And if ye doute it nolde obeye, Ye may therof do make a keye, 2080 And holde it with you for ostage.' Now certis, this is noon outrage,' Quoth Love, 'and fully I accord; For of the body he is ful lord That hath the herte in his tresor; 2085 Outrage it were to asken more.' Than of his aumener he drough A litel keye, fetys y-nough, Which was of gold polisshed clere, And seide to me, 'With this keye here 2090 Thyn herte to me now wol I shette; For al my Iowellis loke and knette I binde under this litel keye, That no wight may carye aweye; This keye is ful of gret poeste.' 2095 With which anoon he touchid me Undir the syde ful softely, That he myn herte sodeynly Without [al] anoy had spered, That yit right nought it hath me dered. 2100 Whan he had doon his wil al-out, And I had put him out of dout, Sire,' I seide, 'I have right gret wille Your lust and plesaunce to fulfille. Loke ye my servise take at gree, 2105 By thilke feith ye owe to me. I seye nought for recreaundyse, For I nought doute of your servyse. But the servaunt traveileth in vayne, That for to serven doth his payne 2110 Unto that lord, which in no wyse Can him no thank for his servyse.' Love seide, 'Dismaye thee nought, Sin thou for sucour hast me sought, In thank thy servise wol I take, 2115 And high of degree I wol thee make, If wikkidnesse ne hindre thee; But, as I hope, it shal nought be. To worship no wight by aventure May come, but-if he peyne endure. 2120 Abyde and suffre thy distresse; That hurtith now, it shal be lesse; I wot my-silf what may thee save, What medicyne thou woldist have. And if thy trouthe to me thou kepe, 2125 I shal unto thyn helping eke, To cure thy woundes and make hem clene, Wher-so they be olde or grene; Thou shalt be holpen, at wordis fewe. For certeynly thou shalt wel shewe 2130 Wher that thou servest with good wille, For to complisshen and fulfille My comaundementis, day and night, Whiche I to lovers yeve of right.' 'Ah, sire, for goddis love,' seide I, 2135 Er ye passe hens, ententifly Your comaundementis to me ye say, And I shal kepe hem, if I may; For hem to kepen is al my thought. And if so be I wot hem nought, 2140 Than may I [sinne] unwitingly. Wherfore I pray you enterely, With al myn herte, me to lere, That I trespasse in no manere.' The god of love than chargid me 2145 Anoon, as ye shal here and see, Word by word, by right empryse, So as the Romance shal devyse. The maister lesith his tyme to lere, Whan the disciple wol not here. 2150 It is but veyn on him to swinke, That on his lerning wol not thinke. Who-so lust love, let him entende, For now the Romance ginneth amende. Now is good to here, in fay, 2155 If any be that can it say, And poynte it as the resoun is Set; for other-gate, y-wis, It shal nought wel in alle thing Be brought to good undirstonding: 2160 For a reder that poyntith ille A good sentence may ofte spille. The book is good at the ending, Maad of newe and lusty thing; For who-so wol the ending here, 2165 The crafte of love he shal now lere, If that he wol so long abyde, Til I this Romance may unhyde, And undo the signifiaunce Of this dreme into Romaunce. 2170 The sothfastnesse that now is hid, Without coverture shal be kid, Whan I undon have this dreming, Wherin no word is of lesing. 'Vilany, at the biginning, 2175 I wol,' sayd Love, 'over alle thing, Thou leve, if thou wolt [not] be Fals, and trespasse ageynes me. I curse and blame generally Alle hem that loven vilany; 2180 For vilany makith vilayn, And by his dedis a cherle is seyn. Thise vilayns arn without pitee, Frendshipe, love, and al bounte. I nil receyve to my servyse 2185 Hem that ben vilayns of empryse. 'But undirstonde in thyn entent, That this is not myn entendement, To clepe no wight in no ages Only gentil for his linages. 2190 But who-so [that] is vertuous, And in his port nought outrageous, Whan sich oon thou seest thee biforn, Though he be not gentil born, Thou mayst wel seyn, this is a soth, 2195 That he is gentil, bicause he doth As longeth to a gentilman; Of hem non other deme I can. For certeynly, withouten drede, A cherl is demed by his dede, 2200 Of hye or lowe, as ye may see, Or of what kinrede that he be. Ne say nought, for noon yvel wille, Thing that is to holden stille; It is no worship to misseye. 2205 Thou mayst ensample take of Keye, That was somtyme, for misseying, Hated bothe of olde and ying; As fer as Gaweyn, the worthy, Was preysed for his curtesy, 2210 Keye was hated, for he was fel, Of word dispitous and cruel. Wherfore be wyse and aqueyntable, Goodly of word, and resonable Bothe to lesse and eek to mar. 2215 And whan thou comest ther men ar, Loke that thou have in custom ay First to salue hem, if thou may: And if it falle, that of hem som Salue thee first, be not dom, 2220 But quyte him curteisly anoon Without abiding, er they goon. 'For no-thing eek thy tunge applye To speke wordis of ribaudye. To vilayn speche in no degree 2225 Lat never thy lippe unbounden be. For I nought holde him, in good feith, Curteys, that foule wordis seith. And alle wimmen serve and preyse, And to thy power hir honour reyse. 2230 And if that any missayere Dispyse wimmen, that thou mayst here, Blame him, and bidde him holde him stille. And set thy might and al thy wille Wimmen and ladies for to plese, 2235 And to do thing that may hem ese, That they ever speke good of thee, For so thou mayst best preysed be. 'Loke fro pryde thou kepe thee wele; For thou mayst bothe perceyve and fele, 2240 That pryde is bothe foly and sinne; And he that pryde hath, him withinne, Ne may his herte, in no wyse, Meken ne souplen to servyse. For pryde is founde, in every part, 2245 Contrarie unto Loves art. And he that loveth trewely Shulde him contene Iolily, Withouten pryde in sondry wyse, And him disgysen in queyntyse. 2250 For queynt array, withouten drede, Is no-thing proud, who takith hede; For fresh array, as men may see, Withouten pryde may ofte be. 'Mayntene thy-silf aftir thy rent, 2255 Of robe and eek of garnement; For many sythe fair clothing A man amendith in mich thing. And loke alwey that they be shape, What garnement that thou shalt make, 2260 Of him that can [hem] beste do, With al that perteyneth therto. Poyntis and sleves be wel sittand, Right and streight upon the hand. Of shoon and botes, newe and faire, 2265 Loke at the leest thou have a paire; And that they sitte so fetisly, That these rude may uttirly Merveyle, sith that they sitte so pleyn, How they come on or of ageyn. 2270 Were streite gloves, with aumenere Of silk; and alwey with good chere Thou yeve, if thou have richesse; And if thou have nought, spend the lesse. Alwey be mery, if thou may, 2275 But waste not thy good alway. Have hat of floures fresh as May, Chapelet of roses of Whitsonday; For sich array ne cost but lyte. Thyn hondis wasshe, thy teeth make whyte, 2280 And let no filthe upon thee be. Thy nailes blak if thou mayst see, Voide it awey deliverly, And kembe thyn heed right Iolily. [Fard] not thy visage in no wyse, 2285 For that of love is not thempryse; For love doth haten, as I finde, A beaute that cometh not of kinde. Alwey in herte I rede thee Glad and mery for to be, 2290 And be as Ioyful as thou can; Love hath no Ioye of sorowful man. That yvel is ful of curtesye That [lauhwith] in his maladye; For ever of love the siknesse 2295 Is meynd with swete and bitternesse. The sore of love is merveilous; For now the lover [is] Ioyous, Now can he pleyne, now can he grone, Now can he singen, now maken mone. 2300 To-day he pleyneth for hevinesse, To-morowe he pleyeth for Iolynesse. The lyf of love is ful contrarie, Which stoundemele can ofte varie. But if thou canst [som] mirthis make, 2305 That men in gree wole gladly take, Do it goodly, I comaunde thee; For men sholde, wher-so-ever they be, Do thing that hem [best] sitting is, For therof cometh good loos and pris. 2310 Wher-of that thou be vertuous, Ne be not straunge ne daungerous. For if that thou good rider be, Prike gladly, that men may se. In armes also if thou conne, 2315 Pursue, til thou a name hast wonne. And if thy voice be fair and clere, Thou shalt maken no gret daungere Whan to singe they goodly preye; It is thy worship for to obeye. 2320 Also to you it longith ay To harpe and giterne, daunce and play; For if he can wel foote and daunce, It may him greetly do avaunce. Among eek, for thy lady sake, 2325 Songes and complayntes that thou make; For that wol meve [hem] in hir herte, Whan they reden of thy smerte. Loke that no man for scarce thee holde, For that may greve thee manyfolde. 2330 Resoun wol that a lover be In his yiftes more large and free Than cherles that been not of loving. For who ther-of can any thing, He shal be leef ay for to yeve, 2335 In [Loves] lore who so wolde leve; For he that, through a sodeyn sight, Or for a kissing, anon-right Yaf hool his herte in wille and thought, And to him-silf kepith right nought, 2340 Aftir [swich yift], is good resoun, He yeve his good in abandoun. 'Now wol I shortly here reherce, Of that [that] I have seid in verse, Al the sentence by and by, 2345 In wordis fewe compendiously, That thou the bet mayst on hem thinke, Whether-so it be thou wake or winke; For [that] the wordis litel greve A man to kepe, whanne it is breve. 2350 'Who-so with Love wol goon or ryde He mot be curteys, and void of pryde, Mery and fulle of Iolite, And of largesse alosed be. 'First I Ioyne thee, here in penaunce, 2355 That ever, withoute repentaunce, Thou set thy thought in thy loving, To laste withoute repenting; And thenke upon thy mirthis swete, That shal folowe aftir whan ye mete. 2360 'And for thou trewe to love shalt be, I wol, and [eek] comaunde thee, That in oo place thou sette, al hool, Thyn herte, withouten halfen dool, For trecherie, [in] sikernesse; 2365 For I lovede never doublenesse. To many his herte that wol depart, Everiche shal have but litel part. But of him drede I me right nought, That in oo place settith his thought. 2370 Therfore in oo place it sette, And lat it never thennes flette. For if thou yevest it in lening, I holde it but a wrecchid thing: Therfore yeve it hool and quyte, 2375 And thou shalt have the more merite. If it be lent, than aftir soon, The bountee and the thank is doon; But, in love, free yeven thing Requyrith a gret guerdoning. 2380 Yeve it in yift al quit fully, And make thy yift debonairly; For men that yift [wol] holde more dere That yeven is with gladsome chere. That yift nought to preisen is 2385 That man yeveth, maugre his. Whan thou hast yeven thyn herte, as I Have seid thee here [al] openly, Than aventures shulle thee falle, Which harde and hevy been withalle. 2390 For ofte whan thou bithenkist thee Of thy loving, wher-so thou be, Fro folk thou must depart in hy, That noon perceyve thy malady, But hyde thyn harm thou must alone, 2395 And go forth sole, and make thy mone. Thou shalt no whyl be in oo stat, But whylom cold and whylom hat; Now reed as rose, now yelowe and fade. Such sorowe, I trowe, thou never hade; 2400 Cotidien, ne [yit] quarteyne, It is nat so ful of peyne. For ofte tymes it shal falle In love, among thy peynes alle, That thou thy-self, al hoolly, 2405 Foryeten shalt so utterly, That many tymes thou shalt be Stille as an image of tree, Dom as a stoon, without stering Of foot or hond, without speking. 2410 Than, sone after al thy peyne, To memorie shalt thou come ageyn, As man abasshed wondre sore, And after sighen more and more. For wit thou wel, withouten wene, 2415 In swich astat ful oft have been That have the yvel of love assayd, Wher-through thou art so dismayd. 'After, a thought shal take thee so, That thy love is to fer thee fro: 2420 Thou shalt say, "God, what may this be, That I ne may my lady see? Myne herte aloon is to her go, And I abyde al sole in wo, Departed fro myn owne thought, 2425 And with myne eyen see right nought. '"Alas, myn eyen sende I ne may, My careful herte to convay! Myn hertes gyde but they be, I praise no-thing what ever they see. 2430 Shul they abyde thanne? nay; But goon visyte without delay That myn herte desyreth so. For certeynly, but-if they go, A fool my-self I may wel holde, 2435 Whan I ne see what myn herte wolde. Wherfore I wol gon her to seen, Or esed shal I never been, But I have som tokening." Then gost thou forth without dwelling; 2440 But ofte thou faylest of thy desyre, Er thou mayst come hir any nere, And wastest in vayn thy passage. Than fallest thou in a newe rage; For want of sight thou ginnest morne, 2445 And homward pensif dost retorne. In greet mischeef than shall thou be, For than agayn shal come to thee Sighes and pleyntes, with newe wo, That no icching prikketh so. 2450 Who wot it nought, he may go lere Of hem that byen love so dere. 'No-thing thyn herte appesen may, That oft thou wolt goon and assay, If thou mayst seen, by aventure, 2455 Thy lyves joy, thyn hertis cure; So that, by grace if thou might Atteyne of hir to have a sight, Than shall thou doon non other dede But with that sight thyn eyen fede. 2460 That faire fresh whan thou mayst see, Thyn herte shal so ravisshed be, That never thou woldest, thy thankis, lete, Ne remove, for to see that swete. The more thou seest in sothfastnesse, 2465 The more thou coveytest of that swetnesse; The more thyn herte brenneth in fyr, The more thyn herte is in desyr. For who considreth every del, It may be lykned wondir wel, 2470 The peyne of love, unto a fere; For ever [the] more thou neighest nere Thought, or who-so that it be, For verray sothe I telle it thee, The hatter ever shal thou brenne, 2475 As experience shal thee kenne. Wher-so [thou] comest in any cost, Who is next fyr, he brenneth most. And yit forsothe, for al thyn hete, Though thou for love swelte and swete, 2480 Ne for no-thing thou felen may, Thou shalt not willen to passe away. And though thou go, yet must thee nede Thenke al-day on hir fairhede, Whom thou bihelde with so good wille; 2485 And holde thysilf bigyled ille, That thou ne haddest non hardement To shewe hir ought of thyn entent. Thyn herte ful sore thou wolt dispyse, And eek repreve of cowardyse, 2490 That thou, so dulle in every thing, Were dom for drede, without speking. Thou shalt eek thenke thou didest foly, That thou were hir so faste by, And durst not auntre thee to say 2495 Som-thing, er thou cam away; For thou haddist no more wonne, To speke of hir whan thou bigonne: But yif she wolde, for thy sake, In armes goodly thee have take, 2500 It shulde have be more worth to thee Than of tresour greet plentee. 'Thus shalt thou morne and eek compleyn, And gete enchesoun to goon ageyn Unto thy walk, or to thy place, 2505 Where thou biheld hir fleshly face. And never, for fals suspeccioun, Thou woldest finde occasioun For to gon unto hir hous. So art thou thanne desirous 2510 A sight of hir for to have, If thou thine honour mightest save, Or any erand mightist make Thider, for thy loves sake; Ful fayn thou woldist, but for drede 2515 Thou gost not, lest that men take hede. Wherfore I rede, in thy going, And also in thyn ageyn-coming, Thou be wel war that men ne wit; Feyne thee other cause than it 2520 To go that weye, or faste by; To hele wel is no folye. And if so be it happe thee That thou thy love ther mayst see, In siker wyse thou hir salewe, 2525 Wherwith thy colour wol transmewe, And eke thy blood shal al to-quake, Thyn hewe eek chaungen for hir sake. But word and wit, with chere ful pale, Shul wante for to telle thy tale. 2530 And if thou mayst so fer-forth winne, That thou [thy] resoun durst biginne, And woldist seyn three thingis or mo, Thou shalt ful scarsly seyn the two. Though thou bithenke thee never so wel, 2535 Thou shalt foryete yit somdel, But-if thou dele with trecherye. For fals lovers mowe al folye Seyn, what hem lust, withouten drede, They be so double in hir falshede; 2540 For they in herte cunne thenke a thing And seyn another, in hir speking. And whan thy speche is endid al, Right thus to thee it shal bifal; If any word than come to minde, 2545 That thou to seye hast left bihinde, Than thou shalt brenne in greet martyr; For thou shalt brenne as any fyr. This is the stryf and eke the affray, And the batail that lastith ay. 2550 This bargeyn ende may never take, But-if that she thy pees wil make. 'And whan the night is comen, anon A thousand angres shal come upon. To bedde as fast thou wolt thee dight, 2555 Where thou shalt have but smal delyt; For whan thou wenest for to slepe, So ful of peyne shalt thou crepe, Sterte in thy bedde aboute ful wyde, And turne ful ofte on every syde; 2560 Now dounward groffe, and now upright, And walowe in wo the longe night, Thyne armis shalt thou sprede a-brede, As man in werre were forwerreyd. Than shal thee come a remembraunce 2565 Of hir shape and hir semblaunce, Wherto non other may be pere. And wite thou wel, withoute were, That thee shal [seme], somtyme that night, That thou hast hir, that is so bright, 2570 Naked bitwene thyn armes there, Al sothfastnesse as though it were. Thou shalt make castels than in Spayne, And dreme of Ioye, al but in vayne, And thee delyten of right nought, 2575 Whyl thou so slomrest in that thought, That is so swete and delitable, The which, in soth, nis but a fable, For it ne shal no whyle laste. Than shalt thou sighe and wepe faste, 2580 And say, "Dere god, what thing is this? My dreme is turned al amis, Which was ful swete and apparent, But now I wake, it is al shent! Now yede this mery thought away! 2585 Twenty tymes upon a day I wolde this thought wolde come ageyn, For it alleggith wel my peyn. It makith me ful of Ioyful thought, It sleeth me, that it lastith noght. 2590 A, lord! why nil ye me socoure, The Ioye, I trowe, that I langoure? The deth I wolde me shulde slo Whyl I lye in hir armes two. Myn harm is hard, withouten wene, 2595 My greet unese ful ofte I mene. But wolde Love do so I might Have fully Ioye of hir so bright, My peyne were quit me richely. Allas, to greet a thing aske I! 2600 It is but foly, and wrong wening, To aske so outrageous a thing. And who-so askith folily, He moot be warned hastily; And I ne wot what I may say, 2605 I am so fer out of the way; For I wolde have ful gret lyking And ful gret Ioye of lasse thing. For wolde she, of hir gentilnesse, Withouten more, me onis kesse, 2610 It were to me a greet guerdoun, Relees of al my passioun. But it is hard to come therto; Al is but foly that I do, So high I have myn herte set, 2615 Where I may no comfort get. I noot wher I sey wel or nought; But this I wot wel in my thought, That it were bet of hir aloon, For to stinte my wo and moon, 2620 A loke on [me] y-cast goodly, [Than] for to have, al utterly, Of another al hool the pley. A! lord! wher I shal byde the day That ever she shal my lady be? 2625 He is ful cured that may hir see. A! god! whan shal the dawning spring? To ly thus is an angry thing; I have no Ioye thus here to ly Whan that my love is not me by. 2630 A man to lyen hath gret disese, Which may not slepe ne reste in ese. I wolde it dawed, and were now day, And that the night were went away; For were it day, I wolde upryse. 2635 A! slowe sonne, shew thyn enpryse! Speed thee to sprede thy bemis bright, And chace the derknesse of the night, To putte away the stoundes stronge, Which in me lasten al to longe." 2640 'The night shalt thou contene so, Withoute rest, in peyne and wo; If ever thou knewe of love distresse, Thou shalt mowe lerne in that siknesse. And thus enduring shalt thou ly, 2645 And ryse on morwe up erly Out of thy bedde, and harneys thee Er ever dawning thou mayst see. Al privily than shalt thou goon, What [weder] it be, thy-silf aloon, 2650 For reyn, or hayl, for snow, for slete, Thider she dwellith that is so swete, The which may falle aslepe be, And thenkith but litel upon thee. Than shalt thou goon, ful foule aferd; 2655 Loke if the gate be unsperd, And waite without in wo and peyn, Ful yvel a-cold in winde and reyn. Than shal thou go the dore bifore, If thou maist fynde any score, 2660 Or hole, or reft, what ever it were; Than shalt thou stoupe, and lay to ere, If they within a-slepe be; I mene, alle save thy lady free. Whom waking if thou mayst aspye, 2665 Go put thy-silf in Iupartye, To aske grace, and thee bimene, That she may wite, withouten wene, That thou [a]night no rest hast had, So sore for hir thou were bistad. 2670 Wommen wel ought pite to take Of hem that sorwen for hir sake. And loke, for love of that relyke, That thou thenke non other lyke, For [whom] thou hast so greet annoy, 2675 Shal kisse thee er thou go away, And hold that in ful gret deyntee. And, for that no man shal thee see Bifore the hous, ne in the way, Loke thou be goon ageyn er day. 2680 Suche coming, and such going, Such hevinesse, and such walking, Makith lovers, withouten wene, Under hir clothes pale and lene, For Love leveth colour ne cleernesse; 2685 Who loveth trewe hath no fatnesse. Thou shalt wel by thy-selfe see That thou must nedis assayed be. For men that shape hem other wey Falsly her ladies to bitray, 2690 It is no wonder though they be fat; With false othes hir loves they gat; For oft I see suche losengeours Fatter than abbatis or priours. 'Yet with o thing I thee charge, 2695 That is to seye, that thou be large Unto the mayd that hir doth serve, So best hir thank thou shalt deserve. Yeve hir yiftes, and get hir grace, For so thou may [hir] thank purchace, 2700 That she thee worthy holde and free, Thy lady, and alle that may thee see. Also hir servauntes worshipe ay, And plese as muche as thou may; Gret good through hem may come to thee, 2705 Bicause with hir they been prive. They shal hir telle how they thee fand Curteis and wys, and wel doand, And she shal preyse [thee] wel the mare. Loke out of londe thou be not fare; 2710 And if such cause thou have, that thee Bihoveth to gon out of contree, Leve hool thyn herte in hostage, Til thou ageyn make thy passage. Thenk long to see the swete thing 2715 That hath thyn herte in hir keping. 'Now have I told thee, in what wyse A lover shal do me servyse. Do it than, if thou wolt have The mede that thou aftir crave.' 2720 Whan Love al this had boden me, I seide him:--'Sire, how may it be That lovers may in such manere Endure the peyne ye have seid here? I merveyle me wonder faste, 2725 How any man may live or laste In such peyne, and such brenning, In sorwe and thought, and such sighing, Ay unrelesed wo to make, Whether so it be they slepe or wake. 2730 In such annoy continuely, As helpe me god, this merveile I, How man, but he were maad of stele, Might live a month, such peynes to fele.' The God of Love than seide me, 2735 Freend, by the feith I owe to thee, May no man have good, but he it by. A man loveth more tendirly The thing that he hath bought most dere. For wite thou wel, withouten were, 2740 In thank that thing is taken more, For which a man hath suffred sore. Certis, no wo ne may atteyne Unto the sore of loves peyne. Non yvel therto ne may amounte, 2745 No more than a man [may] counte The dropes that of the water be. For drye as wel the grete see Thou mightist, as the harmes telle Of hem that with Love dwelle 2750 In servyse; for peyne hem sleeth, And that ech man wolde flee the deeth, And trowe they shulde never escape, Nere that hope couthe hem make Glad as man in prisoun set, 2755 And may not geten for to et But barly-breed, and watir pure, And lyeth in vermin and in ordure; With alle this, yit can he live, Good hope such comfort hath him yive, 2760 Which maketh wene that he shal be Delivered and come to liberte; In fortune is [his] fulle trust. Though he lye in strawe or dust, In hope is al his susteyning. 2765 And so for lovers, in hir wening, Whiche Love hath shit in his prisoun; Good-Hope is hir salvacioun. Good-Hope, how sore that they smerte, Yeveth hem bothe wille and herte 2770 To profre hir body to martyre; For Hope so sore doth hem desyre To suffre ech harm that men devyse, For Ioye that aftir shal aryse. Hope, in desire [to] cacche victorie; 2775 In Hope, of love is al the glorie, For Hope is al that love may yive; Nere Hope, ther shulde no lover live. Blessid be Hope, which with desyre Avaunceth lovers in such manere. 2780 Good-Hope is curteis for to plese, To kepe lovers from al disese. Hope kepith his lond, and wol abyde, For any peril that may betyde; For Hope to lovers, as most cheef, 2785 Doth hem enduren al mischeef; Hope is her help, whan mister is. And I shal yeve thee eek, y-wis, Three other thingis, that greet solas Doth to hem that be in my las. 2790 'The firste good that may be founde, To hem that in my lace be bounde, Is Swete-Thought, for to recorde Thing wherwith thou canst accorde Best in thyn herte, wher she be; 2795 Thought in absence is good to thee. Whan any lover doth compleyne, And liveth in distresse and peyne, Than Swete-Thought shal come, as blyve, Awey his angre for to dryve. 2800 It makith lovers have remembraunce Of comfort, and of high plesaunce, That Hope hath hight him for to winne. For Thought anoon than shal biginne, As fer, god wot, as he can finde, 2805 To make a mirrour of his minde; For to biholde he wol not lette. Hir person he shal afore him sette, Hir laughing eyen, persaunt and clere, Hir shape, hir fourme, hir goodly chere, 2810 Hir mouth that is so gracious, So swete, and eek so saverous; Of alle hir fetures he shal take heede, His eyen with alle hir limes fede. 'Thus Swete-Thenking shal aswage 2815 The peyne of lovers, and hir rage. Thy Ioye shal double, withoute gesse, Whan thou thenkist on hir semlinesse, Or of hir laughing, or of hir chere, That to thee made thy lady dere. 2820 This comfort wol I that thou take; And if the next thou wolt forsake Which is not lesse saverous, Thou shuldist been to daungerous. 'The secounde shal be Swete-Speche, 2825 That hath to many oon be leche, To bringe hem out of wo and were, And helpe many a bachilere; And many a lady sent socoure, That have loved par-amour, 2830 Through speking, whan they mighten here Of hir lovers, to hem so dere. To [hem] it voidith al hir smerte, The which is closed in hir herte. In herte it makith hem glad and light, 2835 Speche, whan they mowe have sight. And therfore now it cometh to minde, In olde dawes, as I finde, That clerkis writen that hir knewe Ther was a lady fresh of hewe, 2840 Which of hir love made a song On him for to remembre among, In which she seide, "Whan that I here Speken of him that is so dere, To me it voidith al [my] smerte, 2845 Y-wis, he sit so nere myn herte. To speke of him, at eve or morwe, It cureth me of al my sorwe. To me is noon so high plesaunce As of his persone daliaunce." 2850 She wist ful wel that Swete-Speking Comfortith in ful muche thing. Hir love she had ful wel assayed, Of him she was ful wel apayed; To speke of him hir Ioye was set. 2855 Therfore I rede thee that thou get A felowe that can wel concele And kepe thy counsel, and wel hele, To whom go shewe hoolly thyn herte, Bothe wele and wo, Ioye and smerte: 2860 To gete comfort to him thou go, And privily, bitween yow two, Ye shal speke of that goodly thing, That hath thyn herte in hir keping; Of hir beaute and hir semblaunce, 2865 And of hir goodly countenaunce. Of al thy state thou shalt him sey, And aske him counseil how thou may Do any thing that may hir plese; For it to thee shal do gret ese, 2870 That he may wite thou trust him so, Bothe of thy wele and of thy wo. And if his herte to love be set, His companye is muche the bet, For resoun wol, he shewe to thee 2875 Al uttirly his privite; And what she is he loveth so, To thee pleynly he shal undo, Withoute drede of any shame, Bothe telle hir renoun and hir name. 2880 Than shal he forther, ferre and nere, And namely to thy lady dere, In siker wyse; ye, every other Shal helpen as his owne brother, In trouthe withoute doublenesse, 2885 And kepen cloos in sikernesse. For it is noble thing, in fay, To have a man thou darst say Thy prive counsel every del; For that wol comfort thee right wel, 2890 And thou shall holde thee wel apayed, Whan such a freend thou hast assayed. 'The thridde good of greet comfort That yeveth to lovers most disport, Comith of sight and biholding, 2895 That clepid is Swete-Loking, The whiche may noon ese do, Whan thou art fer thy lady fro; Wherfore thou prese alwey to be In place, where thou mayst hir se. 2900 For it is thing most amerous, Most delitable and saverous, For to aswage a mannes sorowe, To sene his lady by the morowe. For it is a ful noble thing 2905 Whan thyn eyen have meting With that relyke precious, Wherof they be so desirous. But al day after, soth it is, They have no drede to faren amis, 2910 They dreden neither wind ne reyn, Ne [yit] non other maner peyn. For whan thyn eyen were thus in blis, Yit of hir curtesye, y-wis, Aloon they can not have hir Ioye, 2915 But to the herte they [it] convoye; Part of hir blis to him [they] sende, Of al this harm to make an ende. The eye is a good messangere, Which can to the herte in such manere 2920 Tidyngis sende, that [he] hath seen, To voide him of his peynes cleen. Wherof the herte reioyseth so That a gret party of his wo Is voided, and put awey to flight. 2925 Right as the derknesse of the night Is chased with clerenesse of the mone, Right so is al his wo ful sone Devoided clene, whan that the sight Biholden may that fresshe wight 2930 That the herte desyreth so, That al his derknesse is ago; For than the herte is al at ese, Whan they seen that [that] may hem plese. 'Now have I thee declared alout, 2935 Of that thou were in drede and dout; For I have told thee feithfully What thee may curen utterly, And alle lovers that wole be Feithful, and ful of stabilite. 2940 Good-Hope alwey kepe by thy syde, And Swete-Thought make eek abyde, Swete-Loking and Swete-Speche; Of alle thyn harmes they shal be leche. Of every thou shalt have greet plesaunce; 2945 If thou canst byde in sufferaunce, And serve wel without feyntyse, Thou shalt be quit of thyn empryse, With more guerdoun, if that thou live; But al this tyme this I thee yive.' 2950 The God of Love whan al the day Had taught me, as ye have herd say, And enfourmed compendiously, He vanished awey al sodeynly, And I alone lefte, al sole, 2955 So ful of compleynt and of dole, For I saw no man ther me by. My woundes me greved wondirly; Me for to curen no-thing I knew, Save the botoun bright of hew, 2960 Wheron was set hoolly my thought; Of other comfort knew I nought, But it were through the God of Love; I knew nat elles to my bihove That might me ese or comfort gete, 2965 But-if he wolde him entermete. The roser was, withoute doute, Closed with an hegge withoute, As ye to-forn have herd me seyn; And fast I bisied, and wolde fayn 2970 Have passed the haye, if I might Have geten in by any slight Unto the botoun so fair to see. But ever I dradde blamed to be, If men wolde have suspeccioun 2975 That I wolde of entencioun Have stole the roses that ther were; Therfore to entre I was in fere. But at the last, as I bithought Whether I sholde passe or nought, 2980 I saw come with a gladde chere To me, a lusty bachelere, Of good stature, and of good hight, And Bialacoil forsothe he hight. Sone he was to Curtesy, 2985 And he me graunted ful gladly The passage of the outer hay, And seide:--'Sir, how that ye may Passe, if [it] your wille be, The fresshe roser for to see, 2990 And ye the swete savour fele. Your warrant may [I be] right wele; So thou thee kepe fro folye, Shal no man do thee vilanye. If I may helpe you in ought, 2995 I shal not feyne, dredeth nought; For I am bounde to your servyse, Fully devoide of feyntyse.' Than unto Bialacoil saide I, 'I thank you, sir, ful hertely, 3000 And your biheest [I] take at gree, That ye so goodly prefer me; To you it cometh of greet fraunchyse, That ye me prefer your servyse.' Than aftir, ful deliverly, 3005 Through the breres anoon wente I, Wherof encombred was the hay. I was wel plesed, the soth to say, To see the botoun fair and swote, So fresshe spronge out of the rote. 3010 And Bialacoil me served wel, Whan I so nygh me mighte fele Of the botoun the swete odour, And so lusty hewed of colour. But than a cherl (foule him bityde!) 3015 Bisyde the roses gan him hyde, To kepe the roses of that roser, Of whom the name was Daunger. This cherl was hid there in the greves, Covered with grasse and with leves, 3020 To spye and take whom that he fond Unto that roser putte an hond. He was not sole, for ther was mo; For with him were other two Of wikkid maners, and yvel fame. 3025 That oon was clepid, by his name, Wikked-Tonge, god yeve him sorwe! For neither at eve, ne at morwe, He can of no man [no] good speke; On many a Iust man doth he wreke. 3030 Ther was a womman eek, that hight Shame, that, who can reken right, Trespas was hir fadir name, Hir moder Resoun; and thus was Shame [On lyve] brought of these ilk two. 3035 And yit had Trespas never ado With Resoun, ne never ley hir by, He was so hidous and ugly, I mene, this that Trespas hight; But Resoun conceyveth, of a sight, 3040 Shame, of that I spak aforn. And whan that Shame was thus born, It was ordeyned, that Chastitee Shulde of the roser lady be, Which, of the botouns more and las, 3045 With sondry folk assailed was, That she ne wiste what to do. For Venus hir assailith so, That night and day from hir she stal Botouns and roses over-al. 3050 To Resoun than prayeth Chastitee, Whom Venus flemed over the see, That she hir doughter wolde hir lene, To kepe the roser fresh and grene. Anoon Resoun to Chastitee 3055 Is fully assented that it be, And grauntid hir, at hir request, That Shame, bicause she is honest, Shal keper of the roser be. And thus to kepe it ther were three, 3060 That noon shulde hardy be ne bold (Were he yong, or were he old) Ageyn hir wille awey to bere Botouns ne roses, that ther were. I had wel sped, had I not been 3065 Awayted with these three, and seen. For Bialacoil, that was so fair, So gracious and debonair, Quitte him to me ful curteisly, And, me to plese, bad that I 3070 Shuld drawe me to the botoun nere; Prese in, to touche the rosere Which bar the roses, he yaf me leve; This graunt ne might but litel greve. And for he saw it lyked me, 3075 Right nygh the botoun pullede he A leef al grene, and yaf me that, The which ful nygh the botoun sat; I made [me] of that leef ful queynt. And whan I felte I was aqueynt 3080 With Bialacoil, and so prive, I wende al at my wille had be. Than wex I hardy for to tel To Bialacoil how me bifel Of Love, that took and wounded me, 3085 And seide: 'Sir, so mote I thee, I may no loye have in no wyse, Upon no syde, but it ryse; For sithe (if I shal not feyne) In herte I have had so gret peyne, 3090 So gret annoy, and such affray, That I ne wot what I shal say; I drede your wrath to disserve. Lever me were, that knyves kerve My body shulde in pecis smalle, 3095 Than in any wyse it shulde falle That ye wratthed shulde been with me.' Sey boldely thy wille,' quod he, I nil be wroth, if that I may, For nought that thou shalt to me say.' 3100 Thanne seide I, 'Sir, not you displese To knowen of my greet unese, In which only love hath me brought; For peynes greet, disese and thought, Fro day to day he doth me drye; 3105 Supposeth not, sir, that I lye. In me fyve woundes dide he make, The sore of whiche shal never slake But ye the botoun graunte me, Which is most passaunt of beautee, 3110 My lyf, my deth, and my martyre, And tresour that I most desyre.' Than Bialacoil, affrayed all, Seyde, 'Sir, it may not fall; That ye desire, it may not ryse. 3115 What? wolde ye shende me in this wyse? A mochel foole than I were, If I suffrid you awey to bere The fresh botoun, so fair of sight. For it were neither skile ne right 3120 Of the roser ye broke the rind, Or take the rose aforn his kind; Ye ar not courteys to aske it. Lat it stil on the roser sit, And growe til it amended be, 3125 And parfitly come to beaute. I nolde not that it pulled wer Fro the roser that it ber, To me it is so leef and dere.' With that sterte out anoon Daungere, 3130 Out of the place where he was hid. His malice in his chere was kid; Ful greet he was, and blak of hewe, Sturdy and hidous, who-so him knewe; Like sharp urchouns his here was growe, 3135 His eyes rede as the fire-glow; His nose frounced ful kirked stood, He com criand as he were wood, And seide, 'Bialacoil, tel me why Thou bringest hider so boldly 3140 Him that so nygh [is] the roser? Thou worchist in a wrong maner; He thenkith to dishonour thee, Thou art wel worthy to have maugree To late him of the roser wit; 3145 Who serveth a feloun is yvel quit. Thou woldist have doon greet bountee, And he with shame wolde quyte thee. Flee hennes, felowe! I rede thee go! It wanteth litel I wol thee slo; 3150 For Bialacoil ne knew thee nought, Whan thee to serve he sette his thought; For thou wolt shame him, if thou might, Bothe ageyn resoun and right. I wol no more in thee affye, 3155 That comest so slyghly for tespye; For it preveth wonder wel, Thy slight and tresoun every del.' I durst no more ther make abode, For the cherl, he was so wode; 3160 So gan he threten and manace, And thurgh the haye he did me chace. For feer of him I tremblid and quook, So cherlishly his heed he shook; And seide, if eft he might me take, 3165 I shulde not from his hondis scape. Than Bialacoil is fled and mate, And I al sole, disconsolate, Was left aloon in peyne and thought; For shame, to deth I was nygh brought. 3170 Than thought I on myn high foly, How that my body, utterly, Was yeve to peyne and to martyre; And therto hadde I so gret yre, That I ne durst the hayes passe; 3175 There was non hope, there was no grace. I trowe never man wiste of peyne, But he were laced in Loves cheyne; Ne no man [wot], and sooth it is, But-if he love, what anger is. 3180 Love holdith his heest to me right wele, Whan peyne he seide I shulde fele. Non herte may thenke, ne tunge seyne, A quarter of my wo and peyne. I might not with the anger laste; 3185 Myn herte in poynt was for to braste, Whan I thought on the rose, that so Was through Daunger cast me froo. A long whyl stood I in that state, Til that me saugh so mad and mate 3190 The lady of the highe ward, Which from hir tour lokid thiderward. Resoun men clepe that lady, Which from hir tour deliverly Come doun to me withouten more. 3195 But she was neither yong, ne hore, Ne high ne low, ne fat ne lene, But best, as it were in a mene. Hir eyen two were cleer and light As any candel that brenneth bright; 3200 And on hir heed she hadde a crown. Hir semede wel an high persoun; For rounde enviroun, hir crownet Was ful of riche stonis fret. Hir goodly semblaunt, by devys, 3205 I trowe were maad in paradys; Nature had never such a grace, To forge a werk of such compace. For certeyn, but the letter lye, God him-silf, that is so high, 3210 Made hir aftir his image, And yaf hir sith sich avauntage, That she hath might and seignorye To kepe men from al folye; Who-so wole trowe hir lore, 3215 Ne may offenden nevermore. And whyl I stood thus derk and pale, Resoun bigan to me hir tale; She seide: 'Al hayl, my swete frend! Foly and childhood wol thee shend, 3220 Which thee have put in greet affray; Thou hast bought dere the tyme of May, That made thyn herte mery to be. In yvel tyme thou wentist to see The gardin, wherof Ydilnesse 3225 Bar the keye, and was maistresse Whan thou yedest in the daunce With hir, and haddest aqueyntaunce: Hir aqueyntaunce is perilous, First softe, and aftir[ward] noyous; 3230 She hath [thee] trasshed, withoute ween; The God of Love had thee not seen, Ne hadde Ydilnesse thee conveyed In the verger where Mirthe him pleyed. If Foly have supprised thee, 3235 Do so that it recovered be; And be wel war to take no more Counsel, that greveth aftir sore; He is wys that wol himsilf chastyse. And though a young man in any wyse 3240 Trespace among, and do foly, Lat him not tarye, but hastily Lat him amende what so be mis. And eek I counseile thee, y-wis, The God of Love hoolly foryet, 3245 That hath thee in sich peyne set, And thee in herte tormented so. I can nat seen how thou mayst go Other weyes to garisoun; For Daunger, that is so feloun, 3250 Felly purposith thee to werrey, Which is ful cruel, the soth to sey. 'And yit of Daunger cometh no blame, In reward of my doughter Shame, Which hath the roses in hir warde, 3255 As she that may be no musarde. And Wikked-Tunge is with these two, That suffrith no man thider go; For er a thing be do, he shal, Where that he cometh, over-al, 3260 In fourty places, if it be sought, Seye thing that never was doon ne wrought; So moche tresoun is in his male, Of falsnesse for to [feyne] a tale. Thou delest with angry folk, y-wis; 3265 Wherfor to thee [it] bettir is From these folk awey to fare, For they wol make thee live in care. This is the yvel that Love they calle, Wherin ther is but foly alle, 3270 For love is foly everydel; Who loveth, in no wyse may do wel, Ne sette his thought on no good werk. His scole he lesith, if he be clerk; Of other craft eek if he be, 3275 He shal not thryve therin; for he In love shal have more passioun Than monke, hermyte, or chanoun. The peyne is hard, out of mesure, The Ioye may eek no whyl endure; 3280 And in the possessioun Is muche tribulacioun; The Ioye it is so short-lasting, And but in happe is the geting; For I see ther many in travaille, 3285 That atte laste foule fayle. I was no-thing thy counseler, Whan thou were maad the homager Of God of Love to hastily; Ther was no wisdom, but foly. 3290 Thyn herte was Ioly, but not sage, Whan thou were brought in sich a rage, To yelde thee so redily, And to Love, of his gret maistry. 'I rede thee Love awey to dryve, 3295 That makith thee recche not of thy lyve. The foly more fro day to day Shal growe, but thou it putte away. Take with thy teeth the bridel faste, To daunte thyn herte; and eek thee caste, 3300 If that thou mayst, to gete defence For to redresse thy first offence. Who-so his herte alwey wol leve, Shal finde among that shal him greve' Whan I hir herd thus me chastyse, 3305 I answerd in ful angry wyse. I prayed hir cessen of hir speche, Outher to chastyse me or teche, To bidde me my thought refreyne, Which Love hath caught in his demeyne:-- 3310 What? wene ye Love wol consent, That me assailith with bowe bent, To draw myn herte out of his honde, Which is so quikly in his bonde? That ye counsayle, may never be; 3315 For whan he first arested me, He took myn herte so hool him til, That it is no-thing at my wil; He [taughte] it so him for to obey, That he it sparred with a key. 3320 I pray yow lat me be al stille. For ye may wel, if that ye wille, Your wordis waste in idilnesse; For utterly, withouten gesse, Al that ye seyn is but in veyne. 3325 Me were lever dye in the peyne, Than Love to me-ward shulde arette Falsheed, or tresoun on me sette. I wol me gete prys or blame, And love trewe, to save my name; 3330 Who me chastysith, I him hate.' With that word Resoun wente hir gate, Whan she saugh for no sermoning She might me fro my foly bring. Than dismayed, I lefte al sool, 3335 Forwery, forwandred as a fool, For I ne knew no chevisaunce. Than fel into my remembraunce, How Love bade me to purveye A felowe, to whom I mighte seye 3340 My counsel and my privete, For that shulde muche availe me. With that bithought I me, that I Hadde a felowe faste by, Trewe and siker, curteys, and hend, 3345 And he was called by name a Freend; A trewer felowe was no-wher noon. In haste to him I wente anoon, And to him al my wo I tolde, Fro him right nought I wold withholde. 3350 I tolde him al withoute were, And made my compleynt on Daungere, How for to see he was hidous, And to-me-ward contrarious; The whiche through his cruelte 3355 Was in poynt to have meygned me; With Bialacoil whan he me sey Within the gardyn walke and pley, Fro me he made him for to go, And I bilefte aloon in wo; 3360 I durst no lenger with him speke, For Daunger seide he wolde be wreke, Whan that he sawe how I wente The fresshe botoun for to hente, If I were hardy to come neer 3365 Bitwene the hay and the roser. This Freend, whan he wiste of my thought, He discomforted me right nought, But seide, 'Felowe, be not so mad, Ne so abaysshed nor bistad. 3370 My-silf I knowe ful wel Daungere, And how he is feers of his chere, At prime temps, Love to manace; Ful ofte I have ben in his caas. A feloun first though that he be, 3375 Aftir thou shalt him souple see. Of long passed I knew him wele; Ungoodly first though men him fele, He wol meek aftir, in his bering, Been, for service and obeysshing. 3380 I shal thee telle what thou shalt do.-- Mekely I rede thou go him to, Of herte pray him specialy Of thy trespace to have mercy, And hote him wel, [him] here to plese, 3385 That thou shalt nevermore him displese. Who can best serve of flatery, Shal plese Daunger most uttirly.' My Freend hath seid to me so wel, That he me esid hath somdel, 3390 And eek allegged of my torment; For through him had I hardement Agayn to Daunger for to go, To preve if I might meke him so. To Daunger cam I, al ashamed, 3395 The which aforn me hadde blamed, Desyring for to pese my wo; But over hegge durst I not go, For he forbad me the passage. I fond him cruel in his rage, 3400 And in his hond a gret burdoun. To him I knelid lowe adoun, Ful meke of port, and simple of chere, And seide, 'Sir, I am comen here Only to aske of you mercy. 3405 That greveth me, [sir], ful gretly That ever my lyf I wratthed you, But for to amende I am come now, With al my might, bothe loude and stille, To doon right at your owne wille; 3410 For Love made me for to do That I have trespassed hidirto; Fro whom I ne may withdrawe myn herte; Yit shal I never, for Ioy ne smerte, What so bifalle, good or ille, 3415 Offende more ageyn your wille. Lever I have endure disese Than do that shulde you displese. 'I you require and pray, that ye Of me have mercy and pitee, 3420 To stinte your yre that greveth so, That I wol swere for evermo To be redressid at your lyking, If I trespasse in any thing; Save that I pray thee graunte me 3425 A thing that may nat warned be, That I may love, al only; Non other thing of you aske I. I shal doon elles wel, y-wis, If of your grace ye graunte me this. 3430 And ye [ne] may not letten me, For wel wot ye that love is free, And I shal loven, [sith] that I wil, Who-ever lyke it wel or il; And yit ne wold I, for al Fraunce, 3435 Do thing to do you displesaunce.' Than Daunger fil in his entent For to foryeve his maltalent; But al his wratthe yit at laste He hath relesed, I preyde so faste: 3440 Shortly he seide, 'Thy request Is not to mochel dishonest; Ne I wol not werne it thee, For yit no-thing engreveth me. For though thou love thus evermore, 3445 To me is neither softe ne sore. Love wher thee list; what recchith me, So [thou] fer fro my roses be? Trust not on me, for noon assay, In any tyme to passe the hay.' 3450 Thus hath he graunted my prayere. Than wente I forth, withouten were, Unto my Freend, and tolde him al, Which was right Ioyful of my tale. He seide, 'Now goth wel thyn affaire, 3455 He shal to thee be debonaire. Though he aforn was dispitous, He shal heeraftir be gracious. If he were touchid on som good veyne, He shuld yit rewen on thy peyne. 3460 Suffire, I rede, and no boost make, Til thou at good mes mayst him take. By suffraunce, and [by] wordis softe, A man may overcomen ofte Him that aforn he hadde in drede, 3465 In bookis sothly as I rede.' Thus hath my Freend with gret comfort Avaunced me with high disport, Which wolde me good as mich as I. And thanne anoon ful sodeynly 3470 I took my leve, and streight I went Unto the hay; for gret talent I had to seen the fresh botoun, Wherin lay my salvacioun; And Daunger took kepe, if that I 3475 Kepe him covenaunt trewly. So sore I dradde his manasing, I durst not breke[n] his bidding; For, lest that I were of him shent, I brak not his comaundement, 3480 For to purchase his good wil. It was [hard] for to come ther-til, His mercy was to fer bihinde; I wepte, for I ne might it finde. I compleyned and sighed sore, 3485 And languisshed evermore, For I durst not over go Unto the rose I loved so. Thurghout my deming outerly, [Than] had he knowlege certeinly, 3490 [That] Love me ladde in sich a wyse, That in me ther was no feyntyse, Falsheed, ne no trecherye. And yit he, ful of vilanye, Of disdeyne, and cruelte, 3495 On me ne wolde have pite, His cruel wil for to refreyne, Though I wepe alwey, and compleyne. And while I was in this torment, Were come of grace, by god sent, 3500 Fraunchyse, and with hir Pite Fulfild the botoun of bountee. They go to Daunger anon-right To forther me with al hir might, And helpe in worde and in dede, 3505 For wel they saugh that it was nede. First, of hir grace, dame Fraunchyse Hath taken [word] of this empryse: She seide, 'Daunger, gret wrong ye do To worche this man so muche wo, 3510 Or pynen him so angerly; It is to you gret vilany. I can not see why, ne how, That he hath trespassed ageyn you, Save that he loveth; wherfore ye shulde 3515 The more in cherete of him holde. The force of love makith him do this; Who wolde him blame he dide amis? He leseth more than ye may do; His peyne is hard, ye may see, lo! 3520 And Love in no wyse wolde consente That [he] have power to repente; For though that quik ye wolde him sloo, Fro Love his herte may not go. Now, swete sir, is it your ese 3525 Him for to angre or disese? Allas, what may it you avaunce To doon to him so greet grevaunce? What worship is it agayn him take, Or on your man a werre make, 3530 Sith he so lowly every wyse Is redy, as ye lust devyse? If Love hath caught him in his lace, You for tobeye in every caas, And been your suget at your wille, 3535 Shulde ye therfore willen him ille? Ye shulde him spare more, al-out, Than him that is bothe proud and stout. Curtesye wol that ye socour Hem that ben meke undir your cure. 3540 His herte is hard, that wole not meke, Whan men of mekenesse him biseke.' 'That is certeyn,' seide Pite; We see ofte that humilitee Bothe ire, and also felonye 3545 Venquissheth, and also melancolye; To stonde forth in such duresse, This crueltee and wikkednesse. Wherfore I pray you, sir Daungere, For to mayntene no lenger here 3550 Such cruel werre agayn your man, As hoolly youres as ever he can; Nor that ye worchen no more wo On this caytif that languisshith so, Which wol no more to you trespasse, 3555 But put him hoolly in your grace. His offense ne was but lyte; The God of Love it was to wyte, That he your thral so gretly is, And if ye harm him, ye doon amis; 3560 For he hath had ful hard penaunce, Sith that ye refte him thaqueyntaunce Of Bialacoil, his moste Ioye, Which alle his peynes might acoye. He was biforn anoyed sore, 3565 But than ye doubled him wel more; For he of blis hath ben ful bare, Sith Bialacoil was fro him fare. Love hath to him do greet distresse, He hath no nede of more duresse. 3570 Voideth from him your ire, I rede; Ye may not winnen in this dede. Makith Bialacoil repeire ageyn, And haveth pite upon his peyn; For Fraunchise wol, and I, Pite, 3575 That merciful to him ye be; And sith that she and I accorde, Have upon him misericorde; For I you pray, and eek moneste, Nought to refusen our requeste; 3580 For he is hard and fel of thought, That for us two wol do right nought.' Daunger ne might no more endure, He meked him unto mesure. 'I wol in no wyse,' seith Daungere, 3585 Denye that ye have asked here; It were to greet uncurtesye. I wol ye have the companye Of Bialacoil, as ye devyse; I wol him letten in no wyse.' 3590 To Bialacoil than wente in hy Fraunchyse, and seide ful curteisly:-- Ye have to longe be deignous Unto this lover, and daungerous, Fro him to withdrawe your presence, 3595 Which hath do to him grete offence, That ye not wolde upon him see; Wherfore a sorowful man is he. Shape ye to paye him, and to plese, Of my love if ye wol have ese. 3600 Fulfil his wil, sith that ye knowe Daunger is daunted and brought lowe Thurgh help of me and of Pite; You [thar] no more afered be.' 'I shal do right as ye wil,' 3605 Saith Bialacoil, 'for it is skil, Sith Daunger wol that it so be.' Than Fraunchise hath him sent to me. Bialacoil at the biginning Salued me in his coming. 3610 No straungenes was in him seen, No more than he ne had wrathed been. As faire semblaunt than shewed he me, And goodly, as aforn did he; And by the honde, withouten doute, 3615 Within the haye, right al aboute He ladde me, with right good chere, Al environ the vergere, That Daunger had me chased fro. Now have I leve over-al to go; 3620 Now am I raised, at my devys, Fro helle unto paradys. Thus Bialacoil, of gentilnesse, With alle his peyne and besinesse, Hath shewed me, only of grace, 3625 The estres of the swote place. I saw the rose, whan I was nigh, Was gretter woxen, and more high, Fresh, rody, and fair of hewe, Of colour ever yliche newe. 3630 And whan I had it longe seen, I saugh that through the leves grene The rose spredde to spanishing; To sene it was a goodly thing. But it ne was so spred on brede, 3635 That men within might knowe the sede; For it covert was and [en]close Bothe with the leves and with the rose. The stalk was even and grene upright, It was theron a goodly sight; 3640 And wel the better, withouten wene, For the seed was not [y]-sene. Ful faire it spradde, [god it] blesse! For suche another, as I gesse, Aforn ne was, ne more vermayle. 3645 I was abawed for merveyle, For ever, the fairer that it was, The more I am bounden in Loves laas. Longe I abood there, soth to saye, Til Bialacoil I gan to praye, 3650 Whan that I saw him in no wyse To me warnen his servyse, That he me wolde graunte a thing, Which to remembre is wel sitting; This is to sayne, that of his grace 3655 He wolde me yeve leyser and space To me that was so desirous To have a kissing precious Of the goodly freshe rose, That swetely smelleth in my nose; 3660 For if it you displesed nought, I wolde gladly, as I have sought, Have a cos therof freely Of your yeft; for certainly I wol non have but by your leve, 3665 So loth me were you for to greve.' He sayde, 'Frend, so god me spede, Of Chastite I have suche drede, Thou shuldest not warned be for me, But I dar not, for Chastite. 3670 Agayn hir dar I not misdo, For alwey biddeth she me so To yeve no lover leve to kisse; For who therto may winnen, y-wis, He of the surplus of the pray 3675 May live in hope to get som day. For who so kissing may attayne, Of loves peyne hath, soth to sayne, The beste and most avenaunt, And ernest of the remenaunt.' 3680 Of his answere I syghed sore; I durst assaye him tho no more, I had such drede to greve him ay. A man shulde not to muche assaye To chafe his frend out of mesure, 3685 Nor put his lyf in aventure; For no man at the firste stroke Ne may nat felle doun an oke; Nor of the reisins have the wyne, Til grapes rype and wel afyne 3690 Be sore empressid, I you ensure, And drawen out of the pressure. But I, forpeyned wonder stronge, [Thought] that I abood right longe Aftir the kis, in peyne and wo, 3695 Sith I to kis desyred so: Til that, [rewing] on my distresse, Ther [to me] Venus the goddesse, Which ay werreyeth Chastite, Came of hir grace, to socoure me, 3700 Whos might is knowe fer and wyde, For she is modir of Cupyde, The God of Love, blinde as stoon, That helpith lovers many oon. This lady brought in hir right hond 3705 Of brenning fyr a blasing brond; Wherof the flawme and hote fyr Hath many a lady in desyr Of love brought, and sore het, And in hir servise hir hertes set. 3710 This lady was of good entayle, Right wondirful of apparayle; By hir atyre so bright and shene, Men might perceyve wel, and seen, She was not of religioun. 3715 Nor I nil make mencioun Nor of [hir] robe, nor of tresour, Of broche, [nor] of hir riche attour; Ne of hir girdil aboute hir syde, For that I nil not long abyde. 3720 But knowith wel, that certeynly She was arayed richely. Devoyd of pryde certeyn she was; To Bialacoil she wente a pas, And to him shortly, in a clause, 3725 She seide: 'Sir, what is the cause Ye been of port so daungerous Unto this lover, and deynous, To graunte him no-thing but a kis? To werne it him ye doon amis; 3730 Sith wel ye wote, how that he Is Loves servaunt, as ye may see, And hath beaute, wher-through [he] is Worthy of love to have the blis. How he is semely, biholde and see, 3735 How he is fair, how he is free, How he is swote and debonair, Of age yong, lusty, and fair. Ther is no lady so hauteyne, Duchesse, countesse, ne chasteleyne, 3740 That I nolde holde hir ungoodly For to refuse him outerly. His breeth is also good and swete, And eke his lippis rody, and mete Only to pleyen, and to kisse. 3745 Graunte him a kis, of gentilnesse! His teeth arn also whyte and clene; Me thinkith wrong, withouten wene, If ye now werne him, trustith me, To graunte that a kis have he; 3750 The lasse [to] helpe him that ye haste, The more tyme shul ye waste.' Whan the flawme of the verry brond, That Venus brought in hir right hond, Had Bialacoil with hete smete, 3755 Anoon he bad, withouten lette, Graunte to me the rose kisse. Than of my peyne I gan to lisse, And to the rose anoon wente I, And kissid it ful feithfully. 3760 Thar no man aske if I was blythe, Whan the savour soft and lythe Strook to myn herte withoute more, And me alegged of my sore, So was I ful of Ioye and blisse. 3765 It is fair sich a flour to kisse, It was so swote and saverous. I might not be so anguisshous, That I mote glad and Ioly be, Whan that I remembre me. 3770 Yit ever among, sothly to seyn, I suffre noye and moche peyn. The see may never be so stil, That with a litel winde it [nil] Overwhelme and turne also, 3775 As it were wood, in wawis go. Aftir the calm the trouble sone Mot folowe, and chaunge as the mone. Right so farith Love, that selde in oon Holdith his anker; for right anoon 3780 Whan they in ese wene best to live, They been with tempest al fordrive. Who serveth Love, can telle of wo; The stoundemele Ioye mot overgo. Now he hurteth, and now he cureth, 3785 For selde in oo poynt Love endureth. Now is it right me to procede, How Shame gan medle and take hede, Thurgh whom felle angres I have had; And how the stronge wal was maad, 3790 And the castell of brede and lengthe, That God of Love wan with his strengthe. Al this in romance wil I sette, And for no-thing ne wil I lette, So that it lyking to hir be, 3795 That is the flour of beaute; For she may best my labour quyte, That I for hir love shal endyte. Wikkid-Tunge, that the covyne Of every lover can devyne 3800 Worst, and addith more somdel, (For Wikkid-Tunge seith never wel), To me-ward bar he right gret hate, Espying me erly and late, Til he hath seen the grete chere 3805 Of Bialacoil and me y-fere. He mighte not his tunge withstonde Worse to reporte than he fonde, He was so ful of cursed rage; It sat him wel of his linage, 3810 For him an Irish womman bar. His tunge was fyled sharp, and squar, Poignaunt and right kerving, And wonder bitter in speking. For whan that he me gan espye, 3815 He swoor, afferming sikirly, Bitwene Bialacoil and me Was yvel aquayntaunce and privee. He spak therof so folily, That he awakid Ielousy; 3820 Which, al afrayed in his rysing, Whan that he herde [him] Iangling, He ran anoon, as he were wood, To Bialacoil ther that he stood; Which hadde lever in this caas 3825 Have been at Reynes or Amyas; For foot-hoot, in his felonye To him thus seide Ielousye:-- Why hast thou been so necligent, To kepen, whan I was absent, 3830 This verger here left in thy ward? To me thou haddist no reward, To truste (to thy confusioun) Him thus, to whom suspeccioun I have right greet, for it is nede; 3835 It is wel shewed by the dede. Greet faute in thee now have I founde; By god, anoon thou shalt be bounde, And faste loken in a tour, Withoute refuyt or socour. 3840 For Shame to long hath be thee fro; Over sone she was agoo. Whan thou hast lost bothe drede and fere, It semed wel she was not here. She was [not] bisy, in no wyse, 3845 To kepe thee and [to] chastyse, And for to helpen Chastitee To kepe the roser, as thinkith me. For than this boy-knave so boldely Ne sholde not have be hardy, 3850 [Ne] in this verger had such game, Which now me turneth to gret shame.' Bialacoil nist what to sey; Ful fayn he wolde have fled awey, For fere han hid, nere that he 3855 Al sodeynly took him with me. And whan I saugh he hadde so, This Ielousye, take us two, I was astoned, and knew no rede, But fledde awey for verrey drede. 3860 Than Shame cam forth ful simply; She wende have trespaced ful gretly; Humble of hir port, and made it simple, Wering a vayle in stede of wimple, As nonnis doon in hir abbey. 3865 Bicause hir herte was in affray, She gan to speke, within a throwe, To Ielousye, right wonder lowe. First of his grace she bisought, And seide:--'Sire, ne leveth nought 3870 Wikkid-Tunge, that fals espye, Which is so glad to feyne and lye. He hath you maad, thurgh flatering, On Bialacoil a fals lesing. His falsnesse is not now anew, 3875 It is to long that he him knew. This is not the firste day; For Wikkid-Tunge hath custom ay Yongé folkis to bewreye, And false lesinges on hem leye. 3880 'Yit nevertheles I see among, That the loigne it is so longe Of Bialacoil, hertis to lure, In Loves servise for to endure, Drawing suche folk him to, 3885 That he had no-thing with to do; But in sothnesse I trowe nought, That Bialacoil hadde ever in thought To do trespace or vilanye; But, for his modir Curtesye 3890 Hath taught him ever [for] to be Good of aqueyntaunce and privee; For he loveth non hevinesse, But mirthe and pley, and al gladnesse; He hateth alle [trecherous], 3895 Soleyn folk and envious; For [wel] ye witen how that he Wol ever glad and Ioyful be Honestly with folk to pley. I have be negligent, in good fey, 3900 To chastise him; therfore now I Of herte crye you here mercy, That I have been so recheles To tamen him, withouten lees. Of my foly I me repente; 3905 Now wol I hool sette myn entente To kepe, bothe [loude] and stille, Bialacoil to do your wille.' 'Shame, Shame,' seyde Ielousy, 'To be bitrasshed gret drede have I. 3910 Lecherye hath clombe so hye, That almost blered is myn ye; No wonder is, if that drede have I. Over-al regnith Lechery, Whos might [yit] growith night and day. 3915 Bothe in cloistre and in abbey Chastite is werreyed over-al. Therfore I wol with siker wal Close bothe roses and roser. I have to longe in this maner 3920 Left hem unclosid wilfully; Wherfore I am right inwardly Sorowful and repente me. But now they shal no lenger be Unclosid; and yit I drede sore, 3925 I shal repente ferthermore, For the game goth al amis. Counsel I [mot take] newe, y-wis. I have to longe tristed thee, But now it shal no lenger be; 3930 For he may best, in every cost, Disceyve, that men tristen most. I see wel that I am nygh shent, But-if I sette my ful entent Remedye to purveye. 3935 Therfore close I shal the weye Fro hem that wol the rose espye, And come to wayte me vilanye, For, in good feith and in trouthe, I wol not lette, for no slouthe, 3940 To live the more in sikirnesse, [To] make anoon a forteresse, [To enclose] the roses of good savour. In middis shal I make a tour To putte Bialacoil in prisoun, 3945 For ever I drede me of tresoun. I trowe I shal him kepe so, That he shal have no might to go Aboute to make companye To hem that thenke of vilanye; 3950 Ne to no such as hath ben here Aforn, and founde in him good chere, Which han assailed him to shende, And with hir trowandyse to blende. A fool is eyth [for] to bigyle; 3955 But may I lyve a litel while, He shal forthenke his fair semblaunt.' And with that word cam Drede avaunt, Which was abasshed, and in gret fere, Whan he wiste Ielousye was there. 3960 He was for drede in such affray, That not a word durste he say, But quaking stood ful stille aloon, Til Ielousye his wey was goon, Save Shame, that him not forsook; 3965 Bothe Drede and she ful sore quook; [Til] that at laste Drede abreyde, And to his cosin Shame seyde: Shame,' he seide, 'in sothfastnesse, To me it is gret hevinesse, 3970 That the noyse so fer is go, And the sclaundre of us two. But sith that it is [so] bifalle, We may it not ageyn [do] calle, Whan onis sprongen is a fame. 3975 For many a yeer withouten blame We han been, and many a day; For many an April and many a May We han [y]-passed, not [a]shamed, Til Ielousye hath us blamed 3980 Of mistrust and suspecioun Causeles, withouten enchesoun. Go we to Daunger hastily, And late us shewe him openly, That he hath not aright [y]-wrought, 3985 Whan that he sette nought his thought To kepe better the purpryse; In his doing he is not wyse. He hath to us [y]-do gret wrong, That hath suffred now so long 3990 Bialacoil to have his wille, Alle his lustes to fulfille. He must amende it utterly, Or ellis shal he vilaynsly Exyled be out of this londe; 3995 For he the werre may not withstonde Of Ielousye, nor the greef, Sith Bialacoil is at mischeef.' To Daunger, Shame and Drede anoon The righte wey ben [bothe a]-goon. 4000 The cherl they founden hem aforn Ligging undir an hawethorn. Undir his heed no pilowe was, But in the stede a trusse of gras. He slombred, and a nappe he took, 4005 Til Shame pitously him shook, And greet manace on him gan make. Why slepist thou whan thou shulde wake?' Quod Shame; 'thou dost us vilanye! Who tristith thee, he doth folye, 4010 To kepe roses or botouns, Whan they ben faire in hir sesouns. Thou art woxe to familiere Where thou shulde be straunge of chere, Stout of thy port, redy to greve. 4015 Thou dost gret foly for to leve Bialacoil here-in, to calle The yonder man to shenden us alle. Though that thou slepe, we may here Of Ielousie gret noyse here. 4020 Art thou now late? ryse up [in hy], And stoppe sone and deliverly Alle the gappis of the hay; Do no favour, I thee pray. It fallith no-thing to thy name 4025 Make fair semblaunt, where thou maist blame. 'If Bialacoil be swete and free, Dogged and fel thou shuldist be; Froward and outrageous, y-wis; A cherl chaungeth that curteis is. 4030 This have I herd ofte in seying, That man [ne] may, for no daunting, Make a sperhauke of a bosarde. Alle men wole holde thee for musarde, That debonair have founden thee, 4035 It sit thee nought curteis to be; To do men plesaunce or servyse, In thee it is recreaundyse. Let thy werkis, fer and nere, Be lyke thy name, which is Daungere.' 4040 Than, al abawid in shewing, Anoon spak Dreed, right thus seying, And seide, 'Daunger, I drede me That thou ne wolt [not] bisy be To kepe that thou hast to kepe; 4045 Whan thou shuldist wake, thou art aslepe. Thou shalt be greved certeynly, If thee aspye Ielousy, Or if he finde thee in blame. He hath to-day assailed Shame, 4050 And chased awey, with gret manace, Bialacoil out of this place, And swereth shortly that he shal Enclose him in a sturdy wal; And al is for thy wikkednesse, 4055 For that thee faileth straungenesse. Thyn herte, I trowe, be failed al; Thou shalt repente in special, If Ielousye the sothe knewe; Thou shalt forthenke, and sore rewe.' 4060 With that the cherl his clubbe gan shake, Frouning his eyen gan to make, And hidous chere; as man in rage, For ire he brente in his visage. Whan that he herde him blamed so, 4065 He seide, 'Out of my wit I go; To be discomfit I have gret wrong. Certis, I have now lived to long, Sith I may not this closer kepe; Al quik I wolde be dolven depe, 4070 If any man shal more repeire Into this garden, for foule or faire. Myn herte for ire goth a-fere, That I lete any entre here. I have do foly, now I see, 4075 But now it shal amended bee. Who settith foot here any more, Truly, he shal repente it sore; For no man mo into this place Of me to entre shal have grace. 4080 Lever I hadde, with swerdis tweyne, Thurgh-out myn herte, in every veyne Perced to be, with many a wounde, Than slouthe shulde in me be founde. From hennesforth, by night or day, 4085 I shal defende it, if I may, Withouten any excepcioun Of ech maner condicioun; And if I any man it graunte, Holdeth me for recreaunte.' 4090 Than Daunger on his feet gan stonde, And hente a burdoun in his honde. Wroth in his ire, ne lefte he nought, But thurgh the verger he hath sought. If he might finde hole or trace, 4095 Wher-thurgh that men mot forth-by pace, Or any gappe, he dide it close, That no man mighte touche a rose Of the roser al aboute; He shitteth every man withoute. 4100 Thus day by day Daunger is wers, More wondirful and more divers, And feller eek than ever he was; For him ful oft I singe 'allas!' For I ne may nought, thurgh his ire, 4105 Recover that I most desire. Myn herte, allas, wol brest a-two, For Bialacoil I wratthed so. For certeynly, in every membre I quake, whan I me remembre 4110 Of the botoun, which [that] I wolde Fulle ofte a day seen and biholde. And whan I thenke upon the kisse, And how muche Ioye and blisse I hadde thurgh the savour swete, 4115 For wante of it I grone and grete. Me thenkith I fele yit in my nose The swete savour of the rose. And now I woot that I mot go So fer the fresshe floures fro, 4120 To me ful welcome were the deeth; Absens therof, allas, me sleeth! For whylom with this rose, allas, I touched nose, mouth, and face; But now the deeth I must abyde. 4125 But Love consente, another tyde, That onis I touche may and kisse, I trowe my peyne shal never lisse. Theron is al my coveityse, Which brent myn herte in many wyse. 4130 Now shal repaire agayn sighinge, Long wacche on nightis, and no slepinge; Thought in wisshing, torment, and wo, With many a turning to and fro, That half my peyne I can not telle. 4135 For I am fallen into helle From paradys and welthe, the more My turment greveth; more and more Anoyeth now the bittirnesse, That I toforn have felt swetnesse. 4140 And Wikkid-Tunge, thurgh his falshede, Causeth al my wo and drede. On me he leyeth a pitous charge, Bicause his tunge was to large. Now it is tyme, shortly that I 4145 Telle you som-thing of Ielousy, That was in gret suspecioun. Aboute him lefte he no masoun, That stoon coude leye, ne querrour; He hired hem to make a tour. 4150 And first, the roses for to kepe, Aboute hem made he a diche depe, Right wondir large, and also brood; Upon the whiche also stood Of squared stoon a sturdy wal, 4155 Which on a cragge was founded al, And right gret thikkenesse eek it bar. Abouten, it was founded squar, An hundred fadome on every syde, It was al liche longe and wyde. 4160 Lest any tyme it were assayled, Ful wel aboute it was batayled; And rounde enviroun eek were set Ful many a riche and fair touret. At every corner of this wal 4165 Was set a tour ful principal; And everich hadde, withoute fable, A porte-colys defensable To kepe of enemies, and to greve, That there hir force wolde preve. 4170 And eek amidde this purpryse Was maad a tour of gret maistryse; A fairer saugh no man with sight, Large and wyde, and of gret might. They [ne] dredde noon assaut 4175 Of ginne, gunne, nor skaffaut. [For] the temprure of the mortere Was maad of licour wonder dere; Of quikke lyme persant and egre, The which was tempred with vinegre. 4180 The stoon was hard [as] ademant, Wherof they made the foundement. The tour was rounde, maad in compas; In al this world no richer was, Ne better ordeigned therwithal. 4185 Aboute the tour was maad a wal, So that, bitwixt that and the tour, Rosers were set of swete savour, With many roses that they bere. And eek within the castel were 4190 Springoldes, gunnes, bows, archers; And eek above, atte corners, Men seyn over the walle stonde Grete engynes, [whiche] were nigh honde; And in the kernels, here and there, 4195 Of arblasters gret plentee were. Noon armure might hir stroke withstonde, It were foly to prece to honde. Without the diche were listes made, With walles batayled large and brade, 4200 For men and hors shulde not atteyne To neigh the diche over the pleyne. Thus Ielousye hath enviroun Set aboute his garnisoun With walles rounde, and diche depe, 4205 Only the roser for to kepe. And Daunger [eek], erly and late The keyes kepte of the utter gate, The which openeth toward the eest. And he hadde with him atte leest 4210 Thritty servauntes, echon by name. That other gate kepte Shame, Which openede, as it was couth, Toward the parte of the south. Sergeauntes assigned were hir to 4215 Ful many, hir wille for to do. Than Drede hadde in hir baillye The keping of the conestablerye, Toward the north, I undirstonde, That opened upon the left honde, 4220 The which for no-thing may be sure, But-if she do [hir] bisy cure Erly on morowe and also late, Strongly to shette and barre the gate. Of every thing that she may see 4225 Drede is aferd, wher-so she be; For with a puff of litel winde Drede is astonied in hir minde. Therfore, for stelinge of the rose, I rede hir nought the yate unclose. 4230 A foulis flight wol make hir flee, And eek a shadowe, if she it see. Thanne Wikked-Tunge, ful of envye, With soudiours of Normandye, As he that causeth al the bate, 4235 Was keper of the fourthe gate, And also to the tother three He went ful ofte, for to see. Whan his lot was to wake a-night, His instrumentis wolde he dight, 4240 For to blowe and make soun, Ofter than he hath enchesoun; And walken oft upon the wal, Corners and wikettis over-al Ful narwe serchen and espye; 4245 Though he nought fond, yit wolde he lye. Discordaunt ever fro armonye, And distoned from melodye, Controve he wolde, and foule fayle, With hornpypes of Cornewayle. 4250 In floytes made he discordaunce, And in his musik, with mischaunce, He wolde seyn, with notes newe, That he [ne] fond no womman trewe, Ne that he saugh never, in his lyf, 4255 Unto hir husbonde a trewe wyf; Ne noon so ful of honestee, That she nil laughe and mery be Whan that she hereth, or may espye, A man speken of lecherye. 4260 Everich of hem hath somme vyce; Oon is dishonest, another is nyce; If oon be ful of vilanye, Another hath a likerous ye; If oon be ful of wantonesse, 4265 Another is a chideresse. Thus Wikked-Tunge (god yeve him shame!) Can putte hem everichone in blame Withoute desert and causeles; He lyeth, though they been giltles. 4270 I have pite to seen the sorwe, That waketh bothe eve and morwe, To innocents doth such grevaunce; I pray god yeve him evel chaunce, That he ever so bisy is 4275 Of any womman to seyn amis! Eek Ielousye god confounde, That hath [y]-maad a tour so rounde, And made aboute a garisoun To sette Bialacoil in prisoun; 4280 The which is shet there in the tour, Ful longe to holde there soiour, There for to liven in penaunce. And for to do him more grevaunce, [Ther] hath ordeyned Ielousye 4285 An olde vekke, for to espye The maner of his governaunce; The whiche devel, in hir enfaunce, Had lerned [muche] of Loves art, And of his pleyes took hir part; 4290 She was [expert] in his servyse. She knew ech wrenche and every gyse Of love, and every [loveres] wyle, It was [the] harder hir to gyle. Of Bialacoil she took ay hede, 4295 That ever he liveth in wo and drede. He kepte him coy and eek privee, Lest in him she hadde see Any foly countenaunce, For she knew al the olde daunce. 4300 And aftir this, whan Ielousye Had Bialacoil in his baillye, And shette him up that was so free, For seure of him he wolde be, He trusteth sore in his castel; 4305 The stronge werk him lyketh wel. He dradde nat that no glotouns Shulde stele his roses or botouns. The roses weren assured alle, Defenced with the stronge walle. 4310 Now Ielousye ful wel may be Of drede devoid, in libertee, Whether that he slepe or wake; For of his roses may noon be take. But I, allas, now morne shal; 4315 Bicause I was without the wal, Ful moche dole and mone I made. Who hadde wist what wo I hadde, I trowe he wolde have had pitee. Love to deere had sold to me 4320 The good that of his love hadde I. I [wende a bought] it al queyntly; But now, thurgh doubling of my peyn, I see he wolde it selle ageyn, And me a newe bargeyn lere, 4325 The which al-out the more is dere, For the solace that I have lorn, Than I hadde it never aforn. Certayn I am ful lyk, indeed, To him that cast in erthe his seed; 4330 And hath Ioie of the newe spring, Whan it greneth in the ginning, And is also fair and fresh of flour, Lusty to seen, swote of odour; But er he it in sheves shere, 4335 May falle a weder that shal it dere, And maken it to fade and falle, The stalk, the greyn, and floures alle; That to the tilier is fordone The hope that he hadde to sone. 4340 I drede, certeyn, that so fare I; For hope and travaile sikerly Ben me biraft al with a storm; The floure nil seden of my corn. For Love hath so avaunced me, 4345 Whan I bigan my privitee To Bialacoil al for to telle, Whom I ne fond froward ne felle, But took a-gree al hool my play. But Love is of so hard assay, 4350 That al at onis he reved me, Whan I wend best aboven have be. It is of Love, as of Fortune, That chaungeth ofte, and nil contune; Which whylom wol on folke smyle, 4355 And gloumbe on hem another whyle; Now freend, now foo, [thou] shalt hir fele, For [in] a twinkling tourneth hir wheel. She can wrythe hir heed awey, This is the concours of hir pley; 4360 She can areyse that doth morne, And whirle adown, and overturne Who sittith hieghst, [al] as hir list; A fool is he that wol hir trist. For it [am] I that am com doun 4365 Thurgh change and revolucioun! Sith Bialacoil mot fro me twinne, Shet in the prisoun yond withinne, His absence at myn herte I fele; For al my Ioye and al myn hele 4370 Was in him and in the rose, That but yon [wal], which him doth close, Open, that I may him see, Love nil not that I cured be Of the peynes that I endure, 4375 Nor of my cruel aventure. A, Bialacoil, myn owne dere! Though thou be now a prisonere, Kepe atte leste thyn herte to me, And suffre not that it daunted be; 4380 Ne lat not Ielousye, in his rage, Putten thyn herte in no servage. Although he chastice thee withoute, And make thy body unto him loute, Have herte as hard as dyamaunt, 4385 Stedefast, and nought pliaunt; In prisoun though thy body be, At large kepe thyn herte free. A trewe herte wol not plye For no manace that it may drye. 4390 If Ielousye doth thee payne, Quyte him his whyle thus agayne, To venge thee, atte leest in thought, If other way thou mayest nought; And in this wyse sotilly 4395 Worche, and winne the maistry. But yit I am in gret affray Lest thou do not as I say; I drede thou canst me greet maugree, That thou emprisoned art for me; 4400 But that [is] not for my trespas, For thurgh me never discovered was Yit thing that oughte be secree. Wel more anoy [ther] is in me, Than is in thee, of this mischaunce; 4405 For I endure more hard penaunce Than any [man] can seyn or thinke, That for the sorwe almost I sinke. Whan I remembre me of my wo, Ful nygh out of my wit I go. 4410 Inward myn herte I fele blede, For comfortles the deeth I drede. Ow I not wel to have distresse, Whan false, thurgh hir wikkednesse, And traitours, that arn envyous, 4415 To noyen me be so coragious? A, Bialacoil! ful wel I see, That they hem shape to disceyve thee, To make thee buxom to hir lawe, And with hir corde thee to drawe 4420 Wher-so hem lust, right at hir wil; I drede they have thee brought thertil. Withoute comfort, thought me sleeth; This game wol bringe me to my deeth. For if your gode wille I lese, 4425 I mote be deed; I may not chese. And if that thou foryete me, Myn herte shal never in lyking be; Nor elles-where finde solace, If I be put out of your grace, 4430 As it shal never been, I hope; Than shulde I fallen in wanhope.