Chaucer's Works, Volume 1 — Romaunt of the Rose; Minor Poems

For this trowe I, and say for me,

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.

Within my twenty yere of age,

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,

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.

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,

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.

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.

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.

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

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;

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,

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,

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

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

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

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.

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,

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,

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

In May, whan al this mirth is wrought;

Lors devient la terre si gobe,

Qu'ele volt avoir novele robe;

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,

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.

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,

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;

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

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,

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.

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,

Qui de chanter moult s'engoissoient

Par ces vergiers qui florissoient.

Jolis, gais et plains de léesce,

Toward a river I gan me dresse,

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.

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,

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

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,

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

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

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,

I saugh a Gardin right anoon,

Ful long and brood, and everydel

Enclos it was, and walled wel,

With hye walles enbatailled,

Portrayed without, and wel entailled

With many riche portraitures;

And bothe images and peyntures

Gan I biholde bisily.

And I wol telle you, redily,

Of thilke images the semblaunce,

As fer as I have remembraunce.

A-midde saugh I Hate stonde,

That for hir wrathe, ire, and onde,

Semed to been a moveresse,

An angry wight, a chideresse;

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,

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,

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

Qui de corrous et d'ataïne

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,

Ful grimly with a greet towayle.

An image of another entayle,

A lift half, was hir faste by;

Hir name above hir heed saugh I,

And she was called Felonye.

Another image, that 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,

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,

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.

Par grant hideur fu soutilliée,

Et si estoit entortillée

Hideusement d'une toaille.

Une autre ymage d'autel taille

A senestre vi delez lui;

Son non desus sa teste lui;

Apellée estoit Felonnie.

Une ymage qui Vilonie

Avoit non, revi devers destre,

Qui estoit auques d'autel estre

Cum ces deus et d'autel féture;

Bien sembloit male créature,

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,

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

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

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,

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

Hir heritage to forgo.

Ful croked were hir hondes two;

For Coveityse is ever wood

Après fu painte Coveitise:

C'est cele qui les gens atise

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,

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

Coveitise de l'autrui prendre.

To grypen other folkes good.

Coveityse, for hir winning,

Ful leef hath other mennes thing.

Another image set saugh I

Next Coveityse faste by,

And she was cleped Avarice.

Ful foul in peynting was that vice;

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,

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,

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;

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

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.

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,

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.

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

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;

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

That fro that purs a peny wente.

And by that image, nygh y-nough,

Was peynt Envye, that never lough,

Nor never wel in herte ferde

But-if she outher saugh or herde

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:

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

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,

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,

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,

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,

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,

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

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.

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

Sa malice trop ledement:

For she is in so greet turment

And hath such [wo], whan folk doth good,

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.

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,

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;

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,

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

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;

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.

Sorowe was peynted next Envye

Upon that walle of masonrye.

But wel was seen in hir colour

That she hadde lived in langour;

Hir semed have the Iaunyce.

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,

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,

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.

Delez Envie auques près iere

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,

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.

So depe was hir wo bigonnen,

And eek hir herte in angre ronnen,

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,

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.

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,

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;

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,

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;

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,

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,

That shorter was a foot, ywis,

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,

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.

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,

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,

Qui estoit bien ung pié retraite

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

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,

And restelees travayleth ay,

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,

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.

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,

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:

Qu'el n'alast mie la montance

De quatre toises sans potance.

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,

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,

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

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,

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:

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.

These olde folk have alwey colde,

Hir kinde is swiche, whan they ben olde.

Another thing was doon ther write,

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,

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

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,

Qui sembloit bien estre ypocrite;

And it was cleped Pope-holy.

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,

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.

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.

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,

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,

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;

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.

Et sachiés que n'iere pas grasse,

But semed wery for fasting;

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,

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,

Was peynted Povert al aloon,

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,

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,

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.

Portraite fu au darrenier

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.

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,

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,

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,

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,

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,

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,

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.

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

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.

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,

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!]—

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,

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

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,

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

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.

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

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.

Upon this dore I gan to smyte,

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;

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

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.

Assez i feri et boutai,

Et par maintes fois escoutai

And stood ful long and of[t] herkning

If that I herde a wight coming;

Til that the dore of thilke entree

A mayden curteys opened me.

Hir heer was as yelowe of hewe

As any basin scoured newe.

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,

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.

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,

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,

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,

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,

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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,

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

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,

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,

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

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

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:

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,

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,

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,

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.

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

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,

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.

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,

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,

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,

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.'

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,

Myn herte was ful glad of this.

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.

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,

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,

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,

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.

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,

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;

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

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;

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.

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:

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;

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

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,

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,

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.

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

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,

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.

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:

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

Of mentes ful, and fenel grene;

And faste by, withoute wene,

Sir Mirthe I fond; and right anoon

Unto sir Mirthe gan I goon,

Ther-as he was, him to solace.

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;

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

Gladnes, [the] blisful and the lighte;

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.

Son contenement et son estre.

Lors m'en alai tout droit à destre,

Par une petitete sente

Plaine de fenoil et de mente;

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.

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

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,

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.

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

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;

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.

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

Le tymbre en haut, si recuilloient

Sor ung doi, c'onques n'i failloient.

That they [ne] fayled never-mo.

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,

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

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?

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,

And she was cleped 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

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.

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,

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,

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,

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,

And I shal telle what they were.

Ful fair was Mirthe, ful long and high;

A fairer man I never sigh.

As round as appel was his face,

Ful rody and whyt in every place.

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

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

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.

His nose by mesure wrought ful right;

Crisp was his heer, and eek ful bright.

His shuldres of a large brede,

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,

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,

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

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

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;

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

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,

That singeth so wel with glad corage,

That from she was twelve yeer of age,

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;

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.

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;

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

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,

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,

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,

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,

The myrier she in herte ferde.

And next hir wente, on hir other syde,

The god of Love, that can devyde

Love, as him lyketh it [to] be.

But he can cherles daunten, he,

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

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,

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

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

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.

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;

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

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,

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.

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.

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

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.

This bachelere stood biholding

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;

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,

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,

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.

Qui fust tantost venus du ciau.

Amors avoit ung jovenciau

Qu'il faisoit estre iluec delés;

Douz-Regard estoit apelés.

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;

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.

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,

And best [y]-fethered for to flee,

And fairest eek, was cleped Beautee.

That other arowe, that hurteth lesse,

Was cleped, as I trowe, Simplesse.

The thridde cleped was Fraunchyse,

That fethered was, in noble wyse,

With valour and with curtesye.

The fourthe was cleped Companye

That hevy for to sheten is;

But who-so sheteth right, y-wis,

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:

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,

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;

Mès qui de près en vosist traire,

Il en péust assez mal faire.

Fair-Semblaunt men that arowe calle,

The leeste grevous of hem alle;

Yit can it make a ful gret wounde,

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.

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;

That other arowe next him bisyde,

It was [y]-cleped Vilanye;

That arowe was as with felonye

Envenimed, and with spitous blame.

The thridde of hem was cleped Shame.

The fourthe, Wanhope cleped is,

The fifte, the Newe-Thought, y-wis.

These arowes that I speke of here,

Were alle fyve of oon manere,

And alle were they resemblable.

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.

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,

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,

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,

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

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.

This lady called was 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,

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

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

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,

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,

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.

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

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,

[Wys], plesaunt, and fetys withalle,

Gente, and in hir middel smalle.

Bisyde Beaute yede 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.

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.

Près de Biauté se tint Richece,

Une dame de grant hautece,

And greet of prys in every place.

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

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;

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,

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,

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.

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

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,

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,

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.

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

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.

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.

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,

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

In which ther was ful gret plentee

Of stones clere and bright to see.

Rychesse a girdel hadde upon,

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.

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,

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,

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,

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.

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;

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.

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

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.

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,

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,

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

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.

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

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,

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

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, that sette al hir entente

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,

Was half to grype so ententyf,

Maintenir moult se délitoit.

Cis se chauçoit bien et vestoit,

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;

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

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.

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,

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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,

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;

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,

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

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

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;

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.

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,

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.

And next him daunced dame Fraunchyse,

Arrayed in ful noble gyse.

She was not broun ne dun of hewe,

But whyt as snowe y-fallen newe.

Hir nose was wrought at poynt devys,

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.

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,

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;

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,

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,

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!

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.

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.

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.

And next that daunced 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

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

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!)

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;

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

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,

And in armure a semely man,

And wel biloved of his lemman.

Fair Ydelnesse than saugh I,

That alwey was me faste by.

Of hir have I, withouten fayle,

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.

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.

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.

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.

And after daunced, as I gesse,

[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

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,

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,

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;

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.

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,

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;

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,

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;

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,

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

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,

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

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

Pleying along ful merily.

The God of Love ful hastely

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,

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,

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,

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;

It was as long as it was large.

Of fruyt hadde every tree his charge,

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.

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.

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,

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,

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,

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,

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,

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;

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,

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;

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,

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.

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,

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.

Cerises fresches vermeilletes,

Cormes, alies et noisetes;

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,

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

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

Of sondry colours and maneres,

And maden many a turneying

Upon the fresshe gras springing.

In places saw I WELLES there,

In whiche ther no frogges were,

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,

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,

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.

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,

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,

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.

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,

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.

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

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.

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;

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,

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

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;

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,

Was writen, in the stone aboute,

Lettres smale, that seyden thus,

Here starf the faire Narcisus.'

Narcisus was a bachelere,

That Love had caught in his daungere,

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

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

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,

Que li estuet à rendre l'ame:

Car Equo, une haute dame,

Him loved over any creature,

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.

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,

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,

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;

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.

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

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:

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

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,

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

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.

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,

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.

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.

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.

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,

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:

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,

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,

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,

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

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,

I mighte unto The Welle go.

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,

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

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,

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,

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.

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.

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,

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,

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

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,

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.

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;

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:

Car tous jours quelque part qu'il soient,

L'une moitié du vergier voient;

And if he turne, he may right wel

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.

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,

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

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;

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

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.

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

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,

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

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,

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;

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

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.

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;

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,

A ROSER charged ful of roses,

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

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,

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,

My thankes, wolde I not have failed

Quex sa force ert et sa vertu,

Ne m'i fusse jà embatu:

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.

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,

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,

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;

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,

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.

Ne cremisse estre, g'en cuillisse,

Au mains une que ge tenisse

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,

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;

S'ung chapel en péusse avoir,

Je n'en préisse nul avoir.

Among THE KNOPPES I chees oon

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

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.

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—

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

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.