Читать книгу Chaucerian and Other Pieces - Various - Страница 7
ОглавлениеSo thanne I went-ë by straunge and fer-rë contrees; 57.
Alceste it was that kept-ë there her sojour; 105.
To whom obeyd-ën the ladies god-ë nynten-ë; 108.
And yong-ë men fel-ë cam-ë forth with lusty pace; 110.
O bright-ë Regina, who mad-ë thee so fair? 141.
And mercy ask-ë for al my gret-ë trespas; 166.
This eight-ë-ten-ë yeer have kept yourself at large; 184.
In me did never worch-ë trew-ë-ly, yit I; 212.
And ther I sey the fres-shë quene of Cartáge; 231.
A! new-ë com-ën folk, abyde, and woot ye why; 271.
Than gan I me present-ë tofor-ë the king; 274.
That thou be trew-ë from henn-es-forth, to thy might; 289.
And nam-ë-ly haw-ë-thorn brought-ën both-ë page and grom-ë; 1433.
Very many more such examples may be given. Or take the following; Chaucer has (L. G. W. 476):—
For Love ne wól nat countrepleted be.
And this is how it reappears in C. L. 429:—
For Love wil not be counterpleted, indede!
Here the melody of the line is completely spoilt.
In the present state of our knowledge of the history of the English language, any notion of attributing The Court of Love to Chaucer is worse than untenable; for it is wholly disgraceful. Everything points to a very late date, and tends to exclude it, not only from the fourteenth, but even from the fifteenth century.
At the same time, it will readily be granted that the poem abounds with Chaucerian words and phrases to an extent that almost surpasses even the poems of Lydgate. The versification is smooth, and the poem, as a whole, is pleasing. I have nothing to say against it, when considered on its own merits.
§ 75. Space fails me to discuss the somewhat vexed question of the Courts of Love, of which some have denied the existence. However, there seems to be good evidence to shew that they arose in Provence, and were due to the extravagances of the troubadours. They were travesties of the courts of law, with a lady of rank for a judge, and minstrels for advocates; and they discussed subtle questions relating to affairs of love, usually between troubadours and ladies. The discussions were conducted with much seriousness, and doubtless often served to give much amusement to many idle people. Not unfrequently they led to tragedies, as is easily understood when we notice that the first of one set of thirty-one Laws of Love runs as follows:—'Marriage cannot be pleaded as an excuse for refusing to love.' The reader who requires further information is referred to 'The Troubadours and Courts of Love,' by J. F. Rowbotham, M.A., London, Swan Sonnenschein and Co., 1895.
It is perhaps necessary to observe that the said Courts have very little to do with the present poem, which treats of a Court of Cupid in the Chaucerian sense (Leg. Good Women, 352). Even the statutes of the Court are largely imitated from Lydgate.
§ 76. Pieces numbered XXV-XXIX.
XXV. Virelay. This piece, from the Trinity MS., belongs to the end of the fifteenth century, and contains no example of the final -e as constituting a syllable. Chaucer would have used sore (l. 2), more (l. 12), trouth (l. 13), as dissyllables; and he would not have rimed pleyn and disdayn with compleyn and absteyn, as the two latter require a final -e. The rime of finde with ende is extraordinary.
The title 'Virelai' is given to this piece in Moxon's Chaucer, and is, strictly speaking, incorrect; in the MS. and in Stowe's edition, it has no title at all! Tyrwhitt cautiously spoke of it as being 'perhaps by Chaucer'; and says that 'it comes nearer to the description of a Virelay, than anything else of his that has been preserved.' This is not the case; see note to Anelida, 256; vol. i. p. 536. Tyrwhitt quotes from Cotgrave—'Virelay, a round, freemen's song,' and adds—'There is a particular description of a Virlai, in the Jardin de plaisance, fol. xii, where it makes the decima sexta species Rhetorice Gallicane.' For further remarks, see p. 554.
XXVI. Prosperity: by John Walton. 'To Mr. [Mark] Liddell belongs the honour of the discovery of John Walton as the author of the little poem on fol. 119 [of MS. Arch. Seld. B. 24]. The lines occur as part of the Prologue (ll. 83–90) to Walton's translation of Boethius' De Consolatione.'—J. T. T. Brown, The Authorship of the Kingis Quair, Glasgow, 1896; p. 71. See the account of Walton in Warton's Hist. E. Poetry, sect. xx. The original date of the stanza was, accordingly, 1410; but we here find it in a late Scottish dress. The ascription of it to 'Chaucer,' in the MS., is an obvious error; it was written ten years after his death.
XXVII. Leaulte vault Richesse. This piece, like the former, has no title in the MS.; but the words Leaulte vault Richesse (Loyalty deserves riches) occur at the end of it. If the original was in a Midland dialect, it must belong to the latter part of the fifteenth century. Even in these eight lines we find a contradiction to Chaucer's usage; for he always uses lent, pp., as a monosyllable, and rent-e as a dissyllable. It is further remarkable that he never uses content as an adjective; it first appears in Rom. Rose, 5628.
XXVIII. Sayings. I give these sayings as printed by Caxton; see vol. i. p. 46, where I note that Caxton did not ascribe them to Chaucer. They are not at all in his style.
In MS. Ashmole 59, fol. 78, I find a similar prophecy:—
Prophecia merlini doctoris perfecti.
Whane lordes wol leefe theire olde lawes,
And preestis been varyinge in theire sawes,
And leccherie is holden solace,
And oppressyoun for truwe purchace;
And whan the moon is on dauid stall,
And the kynge passe Arthures hall,
Than[44] is [the] lande of Albyon
Nexst to his confusyoun.
It is extremely interesting to observe the ascription of these lines to Merlin; see King Lear, iii. 2. 95.
XXIX. Balade. This poor stanza, with its long-drawn lines, appears in Stowe at the end of 'Chaucer's Works.' In the Trinity MS., it occurs at the end of a copy of The Parlement of Foules.
§ 77. An examination of the pieces contained in the present volume leads us to a somewhat remarkable result, viz. that we readily distinguish in them the handiwork of at least twelve different authors, of whom no two are much alike, whilst every one of them can be distinguished from Chaucer.
These are: (1) the author of The Testament of Love, who writes in a prose style all his own; (2) the author of The Plowmans Tale and Plowmans Crede, with his strong powers of invective and love of alliteration, whose style could never have been mistaken for Chaucer's in any age[45]; (3) the author of Jack Upland, with his direct and searching questions; (4) John Gower, with his scrupulous regularity of grammatical usages; (5) Thomas Hoccleve, who too often accents a dissyllable on the latter syllable when it should be accented on the former; (6) Henry Scogan, whose lines are lacking in interest and originality; (7) John Lydgate[46], who allows his verse too many licences, so that it cannot always be scanned at the first trial; (8) Sir Richard Ros, who writes in English of a quite modern cast, using their and them as in modern English, and wholly discarding the use of final -e as an inflexion; (9) Robert Henryson, who writes smoothly enough and with a fine vein of invention, but employs the Northern dialect; (10) Sir Thomas Clanvowe, who employs the final -e much more frequently than Chaucer or even Gower; (11) the authoress of The Flower and the Leaf and The Assembly of Ladies, to whom the final -e was an archaism, very convenient for metrical embellishment; and (12) the author of The Court of Love, who, while discarding the use of the final -e, was glad to use the final -en to save a hiatus or to gain a syllable, and did not hesitate to employ it where it was grammatically wrong to do so.
§ 78. If the reader were to suppose that this exhausts the list, he would be mistaken; for it is quite easy to add at least one known name, and to suggest three others. For the piece numbered XXVI, on p. 449, has been identified as the work of John Walton, who wrote a verse translation of Boethius in the year 1410; whilst it is extremely unlikely that no. XXVII, written in Lowland Scottish, was due to Henryson, the only writer in that dialect who has been mentioned above. This gives a total of fourteen authors already; and I believe that we require yet two more before the Virelai and the Sayings printed by Caxton (nos. XXV and XXVIII) can be satisfactorily accounted for. As for no. XIX—the Envoy to Alison—it may be Lydgate's, but, on the other hand, it may not. And as for no. XXIX, it is of no consequence.
Moreover, it must be remembered that I here only refer to the selected pieces printed in the present volume. If we go further afield, we soon find several more authors, all distinct from those above-mentioned, from each other, and from Chaucer. I will just instance the author of the Isle of Ladies, the authoress (presumably) of The Lamentation of Mary Magdalen, the author of The Craft of Lovers, the 'man unknown' who wrote The Ten Commandments of Love, and the author of the clumsy lines dignified by the title of The Nine Ladies Worthy. It is quite certain that not less than twenty authors are represented in the mass of heterogeneous material which appears under Chaucer's name in a compilation such as that which is printed in the first volume of Chalmers' British Poets; which, precisely on that very account, is useful enough in its own peculiar way.
§ 79. I believe it may be said of nearly every piece in the volume, that it now appears in an improved form. In several cases, I have collated MSS. that have not previously been examined, and have found them to be the best. The Notes are nearly all new; very few have been taken from Bell's Chaucer. Several are due to Schick's useful notes to The Temple of Glas; and some to Krausser's edition of The Black Knight, and to Gröhler's edition of La Belle Dame, both of which reached me after my own notes were all in type. I have added a Glossary of the harder words; for others, see the Glossary already printed in vol. vi.
In extenuation of faults, I may plead that I have found it much more difficult to deal with such heterogenous material as is comprised in the present volume than with pieces all written by the same author. The style, the grammar, the mode of scansion, the dialect, and even the pronunciation are constantly shifting, instead of being reasonably consistent, as in the genuine works of Chaucer. Any one who will take the pains to observe these points, to compile a sufficient number of notes upon difficult passages, and to prepare a somewhat full glossary, may thus practically convince himself, as I have done, that not a single piece in the present volume ought ever to have been 'attributed' to Chaucer. That any of them should have been so attributed—and some of them never were—has been the result of negligence, superficiality, and incapacity, such as (it may be hoped) we have seen the last of.
I wish once more to acknowledge my obligations to Mr. E. B. Nicholson, for the loan of his transcript of The Praise of Peace; to Mr. Bradley, for his discovery of the authorship of The Testament of Love and for other assistance as regards the same; to Dr. E. Krausser, for his edition of The Complaint of the Black Knight; to Dr. Gröhler, for his dissertation on La Belle Dame sans Mercy; and to Professor Hales for his kind help as to some difficult points, and particularly with regard to The Court of Love.
THE TESTAMENT OF LOVE.
PROLOGUE.
Many men there ben that, with eeres openly sprad, so
moche swalowen the deliciousnesse of jestes and of ryme,
by queynt knitting coloures, that of the goodnesse or of the
badnesse of the sentence take they litel hede or els non.
5
Soothly, dul wit and a thoughtful soule so sore have myned
and graffed in my spirites, that suche craft of endyting wol not
ben of myn acqueyntaunce. And, for rude wordes and boystous
percen the herte of the herer to the in[ne]rest point, and planten
there the sentence of thinges, so that with litel helpe it is able
10
to springe; this book, that nothing hath of the greet flode of
wit ne of semelich colours, is dolven with rude wordes and
boystous, and so drawe togider, to maken the cacchers therof
ben the more redy to hente sentence.
Some men there ben that peynten with colours riche, and
15
some with vers, as with red inke, and some with coles and
chalke; and yet is there good matere to the leude people of
thilke chalky purtreyture, as hem thinketh for the tyme; and
afterward the sight of the better colours yeven to hem more
joye for the first leudnesse. So, sothly, this leude clowdy occupacion
20
is not to prayse but by the leude; for comunly leude
leudnesse commendeth. Eke it shal yeve sight, that other
precious thinges shal be the more in reverence. In Latin
and French hath many soverayne wittes had greet delyt to
endyte, and have many noble thinges fulfild; but certes, there
25
ben some that speken their poysye-mater in Frenche, of whiche
speche the Frenche men have as good a fantasye as we have
in hering of Frenche mennes English. And many termes there
ben in English, [of] whiche unneth we Englishmen connen declare
the knowleginge. How shulde than a Frenche man born suche
30
termes conne jumpere in his mater, but as the jay chatereth
English? Right so, trewly, the understanding of Englishmen
wol not strecche to the privy termes in Frenche, what-so-ever we
bosten of straunge langage. Let than clerkes endyten in Latin,
for they have the propertee of science, and the knowinge in that
35
facultee; and let Frenchmen in their Frenche also endyten their
queynt termes, for it is kyndely to their mouthes; and let us
shewe our fantasyes in suche wordes as we lerneden of our dames
tonge.
And although this book be litel thank-worthy for the leudnesse
40
in travaile, yet suche wrytinges excyten men to thilke thinges that
ben necessarie; for every man therby may, as by a perpetual
mirrour, seen the vyces or vertues of other, in whiche thing
lightly may be conceyved to eschewe perils, and necessaries to
cacche, after as aventures have fallen to other people or persons.
45
Certes, [perfeccion is] the soveraynest thing of desyre, and
moste †creatures resonable have, or els shulde have, ful appetyte
to their perfeccion; unresonable beestes mowen not, sith reson
hath in hem no werking. Than resonable that wol not is comparisoned
to unresonable, and made lyke hem. For-sothe, the
50
most soverayne and fynal perfeccion of man is in knowing of
a sothe, withouten any entent disceyvable, and in love of oon
very god that is inchaungeable; that is, to knowe and love his
creatour.
¶ Now, principally, the mene to bringe in knowleging and
55
loving his creatour is the consideracion of thinges made by the
creatour, wherthrough, by thilke thinges that ben made understonding
here to our wittes, arn the unsene privitees of god
made to us sightful and knowing, in our contemplacion and
understonding. These thinges than, forsoth, moche bringen us
60
to the ful knowleginge [of] sothe, and to the parfit love of the
maker of hevenly thinges. Lo, David sayth, 'thou hast delyted
me in makinge,' as who sayth, to have delyt in the tune, how god
hath lent me in consideracion of thy makinge.
Wherof Aristotle, in the boke de Animalibus, saith to naturel
65
philosophers: 'it is a greet lyking in love of knowinge their
creatour; and also in knowinge of causes in kyndely thinges.'
Considred, forsoth, the formes of kyndly thinges and the shap,
a greet kindely love me shulde have to the werkman that
hem made. The crafte of a werkman is shewed in the werke.
70
Herfore, truly, the philosophers, with a lyvely studie, many
noble thinges right precious and worthy to memory writen;
and by a greet swetande travayle to us leften of causes [of] the
propertees in natures of thinges. To whiche (therfore) philosophers
it was more joy, more lykinge, more herty lust, in
75
kyndely vertues and maters of reson, the perfeccion by busy
study to knowe, than to have had al the tresour, al the richesse,
al the vainglory that the passed emperours, princes, or kinges
hadden. Therfore the names of hem, in the boke of perpetual
memory, in vertue and pees arn writen; and in the contrarye, that
80
is to sayne, in Styx, the foule pitte of helle, arn thilke pressed
that suche goodnesse hated. And bycause this book shal be of
love, and the pryme causes of steringe in that doinge, with passions
and diseses for wantinge of desyre, I wil that this book be cleped
The Testament of Love.
85
But now, thou reder, who is thilke that wil not in scorne
laughe, to here a dwarfe, or els halfe a man, say he wil rende
out the swerde of Hercules handes, and also he shuld sette
Hercules Gades a myle yet ferther; and over that, he had
power of strengthe to pulle up the spere, that Alisander the
90
noble might never wagge? And that, passing al thinge, to ben
mayster of Fraunce by might, there-as the noble gracious Edward
the thirde, for al his greet prowesse in victories, ne might al yet
conquere?
Certes, I wot wel, ther shal be mad more scorne and jape
95
of me, that I, so unworthily clothed al-togider in the cloudy cloude
of unconninge, wil putten me in prees to speke of love, or els
of the causes in that matter, sithen al the grettest clerkes han
had ynough to don, and (as who sayth) †gadered up clene toforn
hem, and with their sharpe sythes of conning al mowen, and
100
mad therof grete rekes and noble, ful of al plentees, to fede me
and many another. Envye, forsothe, commendeth nought his
reson that he hath in hayne, be it never so trusty. And al-though
these noble repers, as good workmen and worthy their hyre,
han al drawe and bounde up in the sheves, and mad many
105
shockes, yet have I ensample to gadere the smale crommes,
and fullen my walet of tho that fallen from the borde among
the smale houndes, notwithstandinge the travayle of the
almoigner, that hath drawe up in the cloth al the remissailes,
as trenchours, and the relief, to bere to the almesse.
110
Yet also have I leve of the noble husbande Boëce, al-though
I be a straunger of conninge, to come after his doctrine, and
these grete workmen, and glene my handfuls of the shedinge
after their handes; and, if me faile ought of my ful, to encrese
my porcion with that I shal drawe by privitees out of the shocke.
115
A slye servaunt in his owne helpe is often moche commended;
knowing of trouth in causes of thinges was more hardyer in the
first sechers (and so sayth Aristotle), and lighter in us that han
folowed after. For their passing †studies han fresshed our wittes,
and our understandinge han excyted, in consideracion of trouth,
120
by sharpnesse of their resons. Utterly these thinges be no
dremes ne japes, to throwe to hogges; it is lyflich mete for
children of trouthe; and as they me betiden, whan I pilgrimaged
out of my kith in winter; whan the †weder out of mesure was
boystous, and the wylde wind Boreas, as his kind asketh, with
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dryinge coldes maked the wawes of the occian-see so to aryse
unkyndely over the commune bankes, that it was in poynte to
spille al the erthe.
Thus endeth the Prologue; and here-after foloweth the
first book of the Testament of Love.
2. delyciousnesse; (and elsewhere, y is often replaced by i). 4. none. 5. Sothely. wytte. 8. inrest poynte. 10. spring. boke. great floode. 12. catchers. 13. hent. 18. afterwarde. 19. leudenesse. 20. comenly. 21. leudenesse. 23. gret delyte.
24. fulfylde. 27. englysshe. 28. englysshe; supply of. englyssh-. 29. Howe. borne. 31. englyssh. englyssh-. 32. stretche. 34. propertie. 35. facultie. lette. 39. boke. thanke worthy. 42. sene. 44. catche. 45. I supply perfeccion is; to make sense. soueraynst. 46. creature (sic). reasonable. 47, 50. perfection. 47. sythe reason. 48. reasonable. 51. one. 54. Nowe. meane. 56. be (for by). 57. arne.
60. I supply of. parfyte. 61. haste. 62. delyte (this sentence is corrupt). 64. saythe. 65. great. 66, 67. thynges consydred. Forsoth (sic). 68. great. me (sic); for men. 72. great. Supply of. 73. propertyes. 75. matters of reason. perfection. 76. treasour. 79. peace. 80. stixe. 81. boke. 83. dyseases. boke. 85. nowe. 87. set. 89. pul. 92. great. 94. wote. made. 95. vnworthely.
98. gathered. toforne. 100. made. great. plentyes. 102. reason. hayn (sic). 102. -thoughe. 103. hyer. 104. made. 105. gader. 106. fullyn. amonge. 108. remyssayles. 109. relyef. 112. great. 113. encrease. 114. priuytyes. 116. knoweyng. 118. study (sic). 120. reasons. 121. lyfelyche meate. 122. betiden (sic); past tense. 123. wether. measure. 124. wynde Borias. kynde. 125. dryenge. 127. spyl. (rubric) boke.
CHAPTER I.
Alas! Fortune! alas! I that som-tyme in delicious houres
was wont to enjoye blisful stoundes, am now drive by
unhappy hevinesse to bewaile my sondry yvels in tene!
Trewly, I leve, in myn herte is writte, of perdurable letters, al the
5
entencions of lamentacion that now ben y-nempned! For any
maner disese outward, in sobbing maner, sheweth sorowful yexinge
from within. Thus from my comfort I ginne to spille, sith she
that shulde me solace is fer fro my presence. Certes, her
absence is to me an helle; my sterving deth thus in wo it myneth,
10
that endeles care is throughout myne herte clenched; blisse of
my joye, that ofte me murthed, is turned in-to galle, to thinke on
thing that may not, at my wil, in armes me hente! Mirth is
chaunged in-to tene, whan swink is there continually that reste was
wont to sojourne and have dwelling-place. Thus witless, thoughtful,
15
sightles lokinge, I endure my penaunce in this derke prison,
†caitived fro frendshippe and acquaintaunce, and forsaken of al
that any †word dare speke. Straunge hath by waye of intrucioun
mad his home, there me shulde be, if reson were herd as he
shulde. Never-the-later yet hertly, lady precious Margarit, have
20
mynde on thy servaunt; and thinke on his disese, how lightles he
liveth, sithe the bemes brennende in love of thyn eyen are so
bewent, that worldes and cloudes atwene us twey wol nat suffre
my thoughtes of hem to be enlumined! Thinke that oon vertue
of a Margarite precious is, amonges many other, the sorouful to
25
comforte; yet †whyles that, me sorouful to comforte, is my lust
to have nought els at this tyme, d[r]ede ne deth ne no maner
traveyle hath no power, myn herte so moche to fade, as shulde
to here of a twinkling in your disese! Ah! god forbede that;
but yet let me deye, let me sterve withouten any mesure of
30
penaunce, rather than myn hertely thinking comfort in ought
were disesed! What may my service avayle, in absence of her
that my service shulde accepte? Is this nat endeles sorowe to
thinke? Yes, yes, god wot; myn herte breketh nigh a-sonder.
How shulde the ground, without kyndly noriture, bringen forth
35
any frutes? How shulde a ship, withouten a sterne, in the grete see
be governed? How shulde I, withouten my blisse, my herte, my
desyre, my joye, my goodnesse, endure in this contrarious prison,
that thinke every hour in the day an hundred winter? Wel may
now Eve sayn to me, 'Adam, in sorowe fallen from welth, driven
40
art thou out of paradise, with swete thy sustenaunce to beswinke!'
Depe in this pyninge pitte with wo I ligge y-stocked,
with chaynes linked of care and of tene. It is so hye from thens
I lye and the commune erth, there ne is cable in no lande maked,
that might strecche to me, to drawe me in-to blisse; ne steyers
45
to steye on is none; so that, without recover, endeles here to
endure, I wot wel, I [am] purveyed. O, where art thou now,
frendship, that som-tyme, with laughande chere, madest bothe
face and countenaunce to me-wardes? Truely, now art thou
went out of towne. But ever, me thinketh, he wereth his olde
50
clothes, and that the soule in the whiche the lyfe of frendship was
in, is drawen out from his other spirites. Now than, farewel,
frendship! and farewel, felawes! Me thinketh, ye al han taken
your leve; no force of you al at ones. But, lady of love, ye wote
what I mene; yet thinke on thy servaunt that for thy love
55
spilleth; al thinges have I forsake to folowen thyn hestes;
rewarde me with a thought, though ye do naught els. Remembraunce
of love lyth so sore under my brest, that other thought
cometh not in my mynde but gladnesse, to thinke on your goodnesse
and your mery chere; †ferdnes and sorowe, to thinke on your
60
wreche and your daunger; from whiche Christ me save! My
greet joye it is to have in meditacion the bountees, the vertues,
the nobley in you printed; sorowe and helle comen at ones, to
suppose that I be †weyved. Thus with care, sorowe, and tene
am I shapt, myn ende with dethe to make. Now, good goodly,
65
thinke on this. O wrecched foole that I am, fallen in-to so lowe,
the hete of my brenning tene hath me al defased. How shulde
ye, lady, sette prise on so foule fylthe? My conninge is thinne,
my wit is exiled; lyke to a foole naturel am I comparisoned.
Trewly, lady, but your mercy the more were, I wot wel al my
70
labour were in ydel; your mercy than passeth right. God graunt
that proposicion to be verifyed in me; so that, by truste of good
hope, I mowe come to the haven of ese. And sith it is impossible,
the colours of your qualitees to chaunge: and forsothe I
wot wel, wem ne spot may not abyde there so noble vertue
75
haboundeth, so that the defasing to you is verily [un]imaginable,
as countenaunce of goodnesse with encresinge vertue is so in you
knit, to abyde by necessary maner: yet, if the revers mighte falle
(which is ayenst kynde), I †wot wel myn herte ne shulde therfore
naught flitte, by the leste poynt of gemetrye; so sadly is it
80
†souded, that away from your service in love may he not departe.
O love, whan shal I ben plesed? O charitee, whan shal I ben
esed? O good goodly, whan shal the dyce turne? O ful of
vertue, do the chaunce of comfort upwarde to falle! O love,
whan wolt thou thinke on thy servaunt? I can no more but here,
85
out-cast of al welfare, abyde the day of my dethe, or els to see the
sight that might al my wellinge sorowes voyde, and of the flode
make an ebbe. These diseses mowen wel, by duresse of sorowe,
make my lyfe to unbodye, and so for to dye; but certes ye, lady,
in a ful perfeccion of love ben so knit with my soule, that deth
90
may not thilke knotte unbynde ne departe; so that ye and my
soule togider †in endeles blisse shulde dwelle; and there shal
my soule at the ful ben esed, that he may have your presence, to
shewe th'entent of his desyres. Ah, dere god! that shal be a
greet joye! Now, erthely goddesse, take regarde of thy servant,
95
though I be feble; for thou art wont to prayse them better that
wolde conne serve in love, al be he ful mener than kinges or
princes that wol not have that vertue in mynde.
Now, precious Margaryte, that with thy noble vertue hast
drawen me in-to love first, me weninge therof to have blisse,
100
[ther]-as galle and aloes are so moche spronge, that savour of
swetnesse may I not ataste. Alas! that your benigne eyen, in
whiche that mercy semeth to have al his noriture, nil by no
waye tourne the clerenesse of mercy to me-wardes! Alas! that
your brennande vertues, shyning amonges al folk, and enlumininge
105
al other people by habundaunce of encresing, sheweth to me
but smoke and no light! These thinges to thinke in myn herte
maketh every day weping in myn eyen to renne. These liggen
on my backe so sore, that importable burthen me semeth on my
backe to be charged; it maketh me backwarde to meve, whan
110
my steppes by comune course even-forth pretende. These
thinges also, on right syde and lift, have me so envolved with
care, that wanhope of helpe is throughout me ronne; trewly,
†I leve, that graceles is my fortune, whiche that ever sheweth it
me-wardes by a cloudy disese, al redy to make stormes of tene;
115
and the blisful syde halt stil awayward, and wol it not suffre to
me-wardes to turne; no force, yet wol I not ben conquered.
O, alas! that your nobley, so moche among al other creatures
commended by †flowinge streme †of al maner vertues, but
ther ben wonderful, I not whiche that let the flood to come
120
in-to my soule; wherefore, purely mated with sorowe thorough-sought,
my-selfe I crye on your goodnesse to have pitè on this
caytif, that in the in[ne]rest degree of sorowe and disese is left,
and, without your goodly wil, from any helpe and recovery.
These sorowes may I not sustene, but-if my sorowe shulde be
125
told and to you-wardes shewed; although moche space is bitwene
us twayne, yet me thinketh that by suche †joleyvinge wordes my
disese ginneth ebbe. Trewly, me thinketh that the sowne of my
lamentacious weping is right now flowe in-to your presence, and
there cryeth after mercy and grace, to which thing (me semeth)
130
thee list non answere to yeve, but with a deynous chere ye
commaunden it to avoide; but god forbid that any word shuld of
you springe, to have so litel routh! Pardè, pitè and mercy in
every Margarite is closed by kynde amonges many other vertues,
by qualitees of comfort; but comfort is to me right naught worth,
135
withouten mercy and pitè of you alone; whiche thinges hastely
god me graunt for his mercy!
Ch. I. 2. enioy. 3. sondrye. 5. nowe. 6. disease outwarde. 7. comforte. 8. ferre. 9. hell. dethe. 10. endelesse. 12. hent. 13. swynke. 14. dwellynge-. wytlesse. 15. syghtlesse. prisone. 16. caytisned (for caytifued). 17. wode (!); for worde; read word. 18. made. reason. herde. 20. disease. 21. beames. 22. For be-went, Th. has be-went. 23. one. 25. wyl of; apparently an error for whyles (which I adopt). luste. 26. dede (for drede). 27. myne. 28. twynckelynge. disease. 29. lette (twice). dey. measure. 30. myne. comforte. 31. diseased. maye. aueyle. 32. endlesse.
33. wote; myne hert breaketh. 34. howe. grounde. forthe. 35. howe. shippe. great. 36. Howe. 39. nowe. sayne. 40. arte. weate. 44. stretche. 45. stey. endlesse. 46. wotte. I supply am. spurveyde. arte. nowe. 47. frenshyppe (sic). 48. nowe arte. 49. weareth. 51. Nowe. 53. leaue. 57. lythe. 59. frendes (sic); for ferdnes: cf. p. 9, l. 9. 60. Christe. 61. great. bounties. 62. hel. 63. veyned (sic); for weyued. 64. shapte. Nowe. 65. wretched. 66. heate. 68. wytte.
69. wote. 72. ease. sythe. 73. qualyties. 74. wote. wemme ne spotte maye. 75. Read unimaginable. 77. knytte. fal. 78. wol wel (for wot wel). 80. sonded; read souded. maye. 81. pleased. charyte. 82. eased. 83. comforte. fal. 85. out caste. daye. se. 86. flodde. 87. diseases. 89. perfectyon. knytte. dethe. 91. togyther is endelesse in blysse(!). dwel. 92. eased. 93. thentent. 94. great. Nowe. 95. arte wonte. 98. Nowe. haste. 100. I supply ther. 104. folke.
105. encreasing. 110. forthe. 112, 113. trewly and leue; read trewly I leve. 113. gracelesse. 114. disease. 115. halte. 117. (The sentence beginning O, alas seems hopelessly corrupt; there are pause-marks after vertues and wonderful.) 118. folowynge; read flowinge. by; read of. 119. flode. 122. caytife. inrest. disease. lefte. 124. maye. 125. tolde. 126. ioleynynge (sic). 127. disease. 128. nowe. 130. the lyst none. 131. worde. 134. qualites of comforte. worthe.
CHAPTER II.
Rehersinge these thinges and many other, without tyme
or moment of rest, me semed, for anguisshe of disese, that
al-togider I was ravisshed, I can not telle how; but hoolly all my
passions and felinges weren lost, as it semed, for the tyme; and
5
sodainly a maner of drede lighte in me al at ones; nought suche
fere as folk have of an enemy, that were mighty and wolde hem
greve or don hem disese. For, I trowe, this is wel knowe to many
persones, that otherwhyle, if a man be in his soveraignes presence,
a maner of ferdnesse crepeth in his herte, not for harme, but of
10
goodly subjeccion; namely, as men reden that aungels ben aferde
of our saviour in heven. And pardè, there ne is, ne may no
passion of disese be; but it is to mene, that angels ben adradde,
not by †ferdnes of drede, sithen they ben perfitly blissed, [but]
as [by] affeccion of wonderfulnesse and by service of obedience.
15
Suche ferde also han these lovers in presence of their loves, and
subjectes aforn their soveraynes. Right so with ferdnesse myn
herte was caught. And I sodainly astonied, there entred in-to
the place there I was logged a lady, the semeliest and most
goodly to my sight that ever to-forn apered to any creature; and
20
trewly, in the blustringe of her looke, she yave gladnesse and
comfort sodaynly to al my wittes; and right so she doth to
every wight that cometh in her presence. And for she was so
goodly, as me thought, myn herte began somdele to be enbolded,
and wexte a litel hardy to speke; but yet, with a quakinge
25
voyce, as I durste, I salued her, and enquired what she was;
and why she, so worthy to sight, dayned to entre in-to so foule
a dongeon, and namely a prison, without leve of my kepers.
For certes, al-though the vertue of dedes of mercy strecchen to
visiten the poore prisoners, and hem, after that facultees ben had,
30
to comforte, me semed that I was so fer fallen in-to miserye and
wrecched hid caytifnesse, that me shulde no precious thing
neighe; and also, that for my sorowe every wight shulde ben
hevy, and wisshe my recovery. But whan this lady had somdele
apperceyved, as wel by my wordes as by my chere, what thought
35
besied me within, with a good womanly countenance she sayde
these wordes:—
'O my nory, wenest thou that my maner be, to foryete my
frendes or my servauntes? Nay,' quod she, 'it is my ful entente
to visyte and comforte al my frendshippes and allyes, as wel in
40
tyme of perturbacion as of moost propertee of blisse; in me shal
unkyndnesse never be founden: and also, sithen I have so fewe
especial trewe now in these dayes. Wherefore I may wel at more
leysar come to hem that me deserven; and if my cominge may
in any thinge avayle, wete wel, I wol come often.'
45
'Now, good lady,' quod I, 'that art so fayre on to loke,
reyninge hony by thy wordes, blisse of paradys arn thy lokinges,
joye and comfort are thy movinges. What is thy name? How
is it that in you is so mokel werkinge vertues enpight, as me
semeth, and in none other creature that ever saw I with myne
50
eyen?'
'My disciple,' quod she, 'me wondreth of thy wordes and on
thee, that for a litel disese hast foryeten my name. Wost thou
not wel that I am Love, that first thee brought to thy service?'
'O good lady,' quod I, 'is this worship to thee or to thyn
55
excellence, for to come in-to so foule a place? Pardè, somtyme,
tho I was in prosperitè and with forayne goodes envolved, I had
mokil to done to drawe thee to myn hostel; and yet many
werninges thou madest er thou liste fully to graunte, thyn home
to make at my dwelling-place; and now thou comest goodly by
60
thyn owne vyse, to comforte me with wordes; and so there-thorough
I ginne remembre on passed gladnesse. Trewly, lady,
I ne wot whether I shal say welcome or non, sithen thy coming
wol as moche do me tene and sorowe, as gladnesse and mirthe.
See why: for that me comforteth to thinke on passed gladnesse,
65
that me anoyeth efte to be in doinge. Thus thy cominge bothe
gladdeth and teneth, and that is cause of moche sorowe. Lo, lady,
how than I am comforted by your comminge'; and with that
I gan in teeres to distille, and tenderly wepe.
'Now, certes,' quod Love, 'I see wel, and that me over-thinketh,
70
that wit in thee fayleth, and [thou] art in pointe
to dote.'
'Trewly,' quod I, 'that have ye maked, and that ever wol
I rue.'
'Wottest thou not wel,' quod she, 'that every shepherde ought
75
by reson to seke his sperkelande sheep, that arn ronne in-to
wildernesse among busshes and perils, and hem to their pasture
ayen-bringe, and take on hem privy besy cure of keping? And
though the unconninge sheep scattred wolde ben lost, renning to
wildernesse, and to desertes drawe, or els wolden putte hem-selfe
80
to the swalowinge wolfe, yet shal the shepherde, by businesse and
travayle, so putte him forth, that he shal not lete hem be lost by
no waye. A good shepherde putteth rather his lyf to ben lost for
his sheep. But for thou shalt not wene me being of werse
condicion, trewly, for everich of my folke, and for al tho that to
85
me-ward be knit in any condicion, I wol rather dye than suffre
hem through errour to ben spilte. For me liste, and it me lyketh,
of al myne a shepherdesse to be cleped. Wost thou not wel,
I fayled never wight, but he me refused and wolde negligently go
with unkyndenesse? And yet, pardè, have I many such holpe
90
and releved, and they have ofte me begyled; but ever, at the ende,
it discendeth in their owne nekkes. Hast thou not rad how kinde
I was to Paris, Priamus sone of Troy? How Jason me falsed,
for al his false behest? How Cesars †swink, I lefte it for no tene
til he was troned in my blisse for his service? What!' quod she,
95
'most of al, maked I not a loveday bytwene god and mankynde,
and chees a mayde to be nompere, to putte the quarel at ende?
Lo! how I have travayled to have thank on al sydes, and yet list
me not to reste, and I might fynde on †whom I shulde werche.
But trewly, myn owne disciple, bycause I have thee founde, at al
100
assayes, in thy wil to be redy myn hestes to have folowed, and
hast ben trewe to that Margarite-perle that ones I thee shewed;
and she alwaye, ayenward, hath mad but daungerous chere;
I am come, in propre person, to putte thee out of errours, and
make thee gladde by wayes of reson; so that sorow ne disese shal
105
no more hereafter thee amaistry. Wherthrough I hope thou
shalt lightly come to the grace, that thou longe hast desyred, of
thilke jewel. Hast thou not herd many ensamples, how I have
comforted and releved the scholers of my lore? Who hath
worthyed kinges in the felde? Who hath honoured ladyes in
110
boure by a perpetuel mirrour of their tr[o]uthe in my service?
Who hath caused worthy folk to voyde vyce and shame? Who
hath holde cytees and realmes in prosperitè? If thee liste clepe
ayen thyn olde remembraunce, thou coudest every point of this
declare in especial; and say that I, thy maistresse, have be cause,
115
causing these thinges and many mo other.'
'Now, y-wis, madame,' quod I, 'al these thinges I knowe wel
my-selfe, and that thyn excellence passeth the understanding of
us beestes; and that no mannes wit erthely may comprehende thy
vertues.'
120
'Wel than,' quod she, 'for I see thee in disese and sorowe,
I wot wel thou art oon of my nories; I may not suffre thee so to
make sorowe, thyn owne selfe to shende. But I my-selfe come
to be thy fere, thyn hevy charge to make to seme the lesse. For wo
is him that is alone; and to the sorye, to ben moned by a sorouful
125
wight, it is greet gladnesse. Right so, with my sicke frendes I am
sicke; and with sorie I can not els but sorowe make, til whan
I have hem releved in suche wyse, that gladnesse, in a maner of
counterpaysing, shal restore as mokil in joye as the passed hevinesse
biforn did in tene. And also,' quod she, 'whan any of my
130
servauntes ben alone in solitary place, I have yet ever besied me
to be with hem, in comfort of their hertes, and taught hem to
make songes of playnte and of blisse, and to endyten letters of
rethorike in queynt understondinges, and to bethinke hem in what
wyse they might best their ladies in good service plese; and
135
also to lerne maner in countenaunce, in wordes, and in bering,
and to ben meke and lowly to every wight, his name and fame to
encrese; and to yeve gret yeftes and large, that his renomè may
springen. But thee therof have I excused; for thy losse and thy
grete costages, wherthrough thou art nedy, arn nothing to me
140
unknowen; but I hope to god somtyme it shal ben amended, as
thus I sayd. In norture have I taught al myne; and in curtesye
made hem expert, their ladies hertes to winne; and if any wolde
[b]en deynous or proude, or be envious or of wrecches acqueyntaunce,
hasteliche have I suche voyded out of my scole. For
145
al vyces trewly I hate; vertues and worthinesse in al my power
I avaunce.'
'Ah! worthy creature,' quod I, 'and by juste cause the name
of goddesse dignely ye mowe bere! In thee lyth the grace
thorough whiche any creature in this worlde hath any goodnesse.
150
Trewly, al maner of blisse and preciousnesse in vertue out of
thee springen and wellen, as brokes and rivers proceden from
their springes. And lyke as al waters by kynde drawen to the see,
so al kyndely thinges thresten, by ful appetyte of desyre, to drawe
after thy steppes, and to thy presence aproche as to their kyndely
155
perfeccion. How dare than beestes in this worlde aught forfete
ayenst thy devyne purveyaunce? Also, lady, ye knowen al the
privy thoughtes; in hertes no counsayl may ben hid from your
knowing. Wherfore I wot wel, lady, that ye knowe your-selfe that
I in my conscience am and have ben willinge to your service, al
160
coude I never do as I shulde; yet, forsothe, fayned I never to
love otherwyse than was in myn herte; and if I coude have made
chere to one and y-thought another, as many other doon alday
afore myn eyen, I trowe it wolde not me have vayled.'
'Certes,' quod she, 'haddest thou so don, I wolde not now
165
have thee here visited.'
'Ye wete wel, lady, eke,' quod I, 'that I have not played raket,
"nettil in, docke out," and with the wethercocke waved; and
trewly, there ye me sette, by acorde of my conscience I wolde
not flye, til ye and reson, by apert strength, maden myn herte to
170
tourne.'
'In good fayth,' quod she, 'I have knowe thee ever of tho
condicions; and sithen thou woldest (in as moch as in thee was)
a made me privy of thy counsayl and juge of thy conscience
(though I forsook it in tho dayes til I saw better my tyme), wolde
175
never god that I shuld now fayle; but ever I wol be redy
witnessing thy sothe, in what place that ever I shal, ayenst al tho
that wol the contrary susteyne. And for as moche as to me is
naught unknowen ne hid of thy privy herte, but al hast thou tho
thinges mad to me open at the ful, that hath caused my cominge
180
in-to this prison, to voyde the webbes of thyne eyen, to make thee
clerely to see the errours thou hast ben in. And bycause that
men ben of dyvers condicions, some adradde to saye a sothe, and
some for a sothe anon redy to fighte, and also that I may not my-selfe
ben in place to withsaye thilke men that of thee speken
185
otherwyse than the sothe, I wol and I charge thee, in vertue of
obedience that thou to me owest, to wryten my wordes and sette
hem in wrytinges, that they mowe, as my witnessinge, ben
noted among the people. For bookes written neyther dreden ne
shamen, ne stryve conne; but only shewen the entente of the
190
wryter, and yeve remembraunce to the herer; and if any wol in
thy presence saye any-thing to tho wryters, loke boldely; truste on
Mars to answere at the ful. For certes, I shal him enfourme of
al the trouthe in thy love, with thy conscience; so that of his
helpe thou shalt not varye at thy nede. I trowe the strongest and
195
the beste that may be founde wol not transverse thy wordes;
wherof than woldest thou drede?'
Ch. II. 2. disease. 3. tel howe. holy. 4. loste. 5. light. 6. feare. folke. 7. done. disease. 9. ferdenesse. 10. subiection. 11. maye. 12. disease. meane. 13. frendes; read ferdnes; see l. 16. perfytely. I supply but and by. 14. affection. 16. aforne. ferdenesse. 18. lodged. moste. 19. to-forne. 21. comforte sodaynely. dothe. 23. myne. beganne. 27. prisone. leaue. 28. al-thoughe. stretchen. 29. faculties. 30. ferre. 31. wretched hyd. thynge. 33. heauy.
37. wenyst. foryet. 38. naye. 39. frenshippes. alyes. 40. propertye. 42. nowe. 42, 43. maye. 45. Nowe. 46. honny. paradise. 47. comforte. howe. 49. sawe. 52. the. disease haste. Woste. 53. the. 54. worshyppe. the. thyne. 57. the. 58. graunt thyne. 59. nowe. 60. thyne. 61. thoroughe. 62. wotte. none. 64. se. 67. howe. 69. Nowe. se.
70. wytte in the. I supply thou. arte. 74. shepeherde. 75. shepe. arne. 76. amonge. 78. tho. shepe. loste. 79. put. 80. shepeherde. 81. put. forthe. let. loste. 82. shepeherde. lyfe. loste. 83. shepe. shalte. 85. mewarde. 86. throughe. 91. Haste. radde howe. 92. sonne. 93. For false read faire. howe Sesars sonke (sic); corrupt. 95. louedaye. 96. chese. put. 97. howe. thanke. 98. rest. home; read whom. 99. the. 101. haste. the. 102. ayenwarde. made. 103. put the. 104. the. reason. disease.
105. the. 106. shalte. haste. 107. Haste. herde. howe. 111. folke. 112. cyties. the. cleape. 113. poynte. 116. Nowe. 118. wytte. 120. se the in disease. 121. wote. arte one. maye. the. 123. thyne. 125. great. 129. byforne. 131. comforte. 134. please. 135. bearyng. 137. encrease. maye. 138. the. 139. great. wherthroughe. arte. arne no-thinge.
141. thus as I; om. as. 143. endeynous; read ben deynous. wretches. 144. schole. 148. beare. the lythe. 151. the. 155. perfection. Howe. 157. counsayle maye. hydde. 158. wote. 162. doone aldaye. 164. done. nowe. 165. the. 166. playde. 169. reason. aperte. 171. faythe. the. 172. the. 173. counsayle. 174. forsoke. 175. nowe.
178. hert. 179. made. 180. the. 181. se. 183. anone. fyght. maye. 184. withsay. the. 185. the. 188. amonge. 189. onely. 191. -thynge. 194. shalte. 195. maye. transuers.
