| |
A thousand sythes have I herd men telle,
|
| |
That ther is Ioye in heven, and peyne in helle;
|
| |
And I acorde wel that hit is so;
|
| |
But natheles, this wot I wel also,
|
| |
That ther nis noon dwelleth in this contree,
|
| |
That either hath in helle or heven y-be,
|
| |
Ne may of hit non other weyes witen,
|
| |
But as he hath herd seyd, or founde hit writen;
|
| |
For by assay ther may no man hit preve.
|
| 10 |
But goddes forbode, but men shulde leve
|
| |
Wel more thing then men han seen with ye!
|
| |
Men shal nat wenen every-thing a lye
|
| |
For that he seigh it nat of yore ago.
|
| |
God wot, a thing is never the lasse so
|
| |
Thogh every wight ne may hit nat y-see.
|
| |
Bernard the monk ne saugh nat al, parde!
|
|
|
| |
Than mote we to bokes that we finde,
|
| |
Through which that olde thinges been in minde,
|
| |
And to the doctrine of these olde wyse,
|
| 20 |
Yeven credence, in every skilful wyse,
|
| |
And trowen on these olde aproved stories,
|
| |
Of holinesse, or regnes, of victories,
|
| |
Of love, of hate, of other sundry thinges,
|
| |
Of whiche I may not maken rehersinges.
|
| |
And if that olde bokes were a-weye,
|
| |
Y-loren were of remembraunce the keye.
|
| |
Wel oghte us than on olde bokes leve,
|
| |
Ther-as ther is non other assay by preve.
|
|
|
| |
And, as for me, though that my wit be lyte,
|
| 30 |
On bokes for to rede I me delyte,
|
| |
And in myn herte have hem in reverence;
|
| |
And to hem yeve swich lust and swich credence,
|
| |
That ther is wel unethe game noon
|
| |
That from my bokes make me to goon,
|
| |
But hit be other up-on the haly-day;
|
| |
Or elles in the Ioly tyme of May;
|
| |
Whan that I here the smale foules singe,
|
| |
And that the floures ginne for to springe,
|
| |
Farwel my studie, as lasting that sesoun!
|
|
|
| 40 |
Now have I therto this condicioun
|
| |
That, of alle the floures in the mede,
|
| |
Than love I most these floures whyte and rede,
|
| |
Swiche as men callen daysies in our toun.
|
| |
To hem have I so great affeccioun,
|
| |
As I seyde erst, whan comen is the May,
|
| |
That in my bed ther daweth me no day
|
| |
That I nam up, and walking in the mede
|
| |
To seen these floures agein the sonne sprede,
|
| |
Whan hit up-riseth by the morwe shene,
|
| 50 |
The longe day, thus walking in the grene.
|
| |
And whan the sonne ginneth for to weste,
|
| |
Than closeth hit, and draweth hit to reste.
|
| |
So sore hit is afered of the night,
|
| |
Til on the morwe, that hit is dayes light.
|
| |
This dayesye, of alle floures flour,
|
| |
Fulfild of vertu and of alle honour,
|
|
|
| |
And ever y-lyke fair, and fresh of hewe;
|
| |
As wel in winter as in somer newe,
|
| |
Fain wolde I preisen, if I coude aright;
|
| 60 |
But wo is me, hit lyth nat in my might!
|
|
|
| |
For wel I wot, that folk han her-beforn
|
| |
Of making ropen, and lad a-wey the corn;
|
| |
And I come after, glening here and there,
|
| |
And am ful glad if I may finde an ere
|
| |
Of any goodly word that they han left.
|
| |
And, if it happe me rehersen eft
|
| |
That they han in her fresshe songes sayd,
|
| |
I hope that they wil nat ben evel apayd,
|
| |
Sin hit is seid in forthering and honour
|
| 70 |
Of hem that either serven leef or flour.
|
| |
For trusteth wel, I ne have nat undertake
|
| |
As of the leef, ageyn the flour, to make;
|
| |
Ne of the flour to make, ageyn the leef,
|
| |
No more than of the corn ageyn the sheef.
|
| |
For, as to me, is leefer noon ne lother;
|
| |
I am with-holde yit with never nother.
|
| |
I not who serveth leef, ne who the flour;
|
| |
That nis nothing the entent of my labour.
|
| |
For this werk is al of another tunne,
|
| 80 |
Of olde story, er swich stryf was begunne.
|
| |
But wherfor that I spak, to yeve credence
|
| |
To bokes olde and doon hem reverence,
|
| |
Is for men shulde autoritees beleve,
|
| |
Ther as ther lyth non other assay by preve.
|
| |
For myn entent is, or I fro yow fare,
|
| |
The naked text in English to declare
|
| |
Of many a story, or elles of many a geste,
|
| |
As autours seyn; leveth hem if yow leste!
|
|
|
| |
Whan passed was almost the month of May,
|
| 90 |
And I had romed, al the someres day,
|
| |
The grene medew, of which that I yow tolde,
|
| |
Upon the fresshe daysy to beholde,
|
| |
And that the sonne out of the south gan weste,
|
| |
And closed was the flour and goon to reste
|
| |
For derknesse of the night, of which she dredde,
|
| |
Hoom to myn hous ful swiftly I me spedde;
|
| |
And, in a litel erber that I have,
|
| |
Y-benched newe with turves fresshe y-grave,
|
| |
I bad men shulde me my couche make;
|
| 100 |
For deyntee of the newe someres sake,
|
| |
I bad hem strowe floures on my bed.
|
| |
Whan I was layd, and had myn eyen hed,
|
| |
I fel a-slepe with-in an houre or two.
|
| |
Me mette how I was in the medew tho,
|
| |
And that I romed in that same gyse,
|
| |
To seen that flour, as ye han herd devyse.
|
| |
Fair was this medew, as thoughte me overal;
|
| |
With floures swote enbrowded was it al;
|
| |
As for to speke of gomme, or erbe, or tree,
|
| 110 |
Comparisoun may noon y-maked be.
|
| |
For hit surmounted pleynly alle odoures,
|
| |
And eek of riche beaute alle floures.
|
| |
Forgeten had the erthe his pore estat
|
| |
Of winter, that him naked made and mat,
|
| |
And with his swerd of cold so sore had greved.
|
| |
Now had the atempre sonne al that releved,
|
| |
And clothed him in grene al newe agayn.
|
| |
The smale foules, of the seson fayn,
|
| |
That from the panter and the net ben scaped,
|
| 120 |
Upon the fouler, that hem made a-whaped
|
| |
In winter, and distroyed had hir brood,
|
| |
In his despyt, hem thoughte hit did hem good
|
| |
To singe of him, and in hir song despyse
|
| |
The foule cherl that, for his covetyse,
|
| |
Had hem betrayed with his sophistrye.
|
| |
This was hir song -- "the fouler we defye!"
|
| |
Some songen [layes] on the braunches clere
|
| |
Of love and [May], that Ioye hit was to here,
|
| |
In worship and in preysing of hir make,
|
| 130 |
And of the newe blisful someres sake,
|
| |
That songen, "blissed be seynt Valentyn!
|
| |
[For] at his day I chees yow to be myn,
|
| |
With-oute repenting, myn herte swete!"
|
| |
And therwith-al hir bekes gonnen mete.
|
| |
[They did honour and] humble obeisaunces,
|
| |
And after diden other observaunces
|
| |
Right [plesing] un-to love and to nature;
|
| |
So ech of hem [doth wel] to creature.
|
| |
This song to herkne I dide al myn entente,
|
| 140 |
For-why I mette I wiste what they mente.
|
| |
Til at the last a larke song above:
|
| |
"I see," quod she, "the mighty god of love!
|
| |
Lo! yond he cometh, I see his winges sprede!"
|
| |
Tho gan I loken endelong the mede,
|
| |
And saw him come, and in his hond a quene,
|
| |
Clothed in ryal abite al of grene.
|
| |
A fret of gold she hadde next hir heer,
|
| |
And up-on that a whyt coroun she beer
|
| |
With many floures, and I shal nat lye;
|
| 150 |
For al the world, right as the dayesye
|
| |
I-coroned is with whyte leves lyte,
|
| |
Swich were the floures of hir coroun whyte.
|
| |
For of o perle fyn and oriental,
|
| |
Hir whyte coroun was y-maked al;
|
| |
For which the whyte coroun, above the grene,
|
| |
Made hir lyk a daysie for to sene,
|
| |
Considered eek the fret of gold above.
|
|
|
| |
Y-clothed was this mighty god of love
|
| |
Of silke, y-brouded ful of grene greves;
|
| 160 |
A garlond on his heed of rose-leves
|
| |
Sticked al with lilie floures newe;
|
|
|
| |
But of his face I can nat seyn the hewe.
|
| |
For sekirly his face shoon so brighte,
|
| |
That with the gleem a-stoned was the sighte;
|
| |
A furlong-wey I mighte him nat beholde.
|
| |
But at the laste in hande I saw him holde
|
| |
Two fyry dartes, as the gledes rede;
|
| |
And aungellich his wenges gan he sprede.
|
| |
And al be that men seyn that blind is he,
|
| 170 |
Al-gate me thoughte he mighte wel y-see;
|
| |
For sternly on me he gan biholde,
|
| |
So that his loking doth myn herte colde.
|
| |
And by the hande he held the noble quene,
|
| |
Corouned with whyte, and clothed al in grene,
|
| |
So womanly, so benigne, and so meke,
|
| |
That in this world, thogh that men wolde seke,
|
| |
Half hir beautee shulde men nat finde
|
| |
In creature that formed is by kinde.
|
| |
Hir name was Alceste the debonayre;
|
| 180 |
I prey to god that ever falle she fayre!
|
| |
For ne hadde confort been of hir presence,
|
| |
I had be deed, withouten any defence,
|
| |
For drede of Loves wordes and his chere,
|
| |
As, whan tyme is, her-after ye shal here.
|
| |
Byhind this god of love, up-n this grene,
|
| |
I saw cominge of ladyes nyntene
|
| |
In ryal abite, a ful esy pas,
|
| |
And after hem com of wemen swich a tras
|
| |
This, sin that god Adam made of erthe,
|
| 190 |
The thredde part of wemen, ne the ferthe,
|
| |
Ne wende I nat by possibilitee
|
| |
Hadden ever in this world y-be;
|
| |
And trewe of love thise wemen were echoon.
|
|
|
| |
Now whether was that a wonder thing or noon,
|
| |
That, right anoon as that they gonne espye
|
| |
This flour, which that I clepe the dayesye,
|
| |
Ful sodeinly they stinten alle at ones,
|
| |
And kneled adoun, as it were for the nones.
|
| |
And after that they wenten in compas,
|
| 200 |
Daunsinge aboute this flour an esy pas,
|
| |
And songen, as it were in carole-wyse,
|
| |
This balade, which that I shal yow devyse.
|
