Toward the ladies on the greene plain,
That song and daunced as I said now right:
The ladies as soone as they goodly might,
They brake of both the song and dance,
And yede to meet hem with ful glad semblaunce.
And every lady took full womanly
By the hond a knight, and forth they yede
Unto a faire laurer that stood fast by,
With levis lade the boughes of great brede;
And to my dome there never was indede
Man, that had seene halfe so faire a tre;
For underneath there might it well have be
A hundred persons at their owne plesaunce,
Shadowed fro the heat of Phebus bright,
So that they should have felt no grevaunce
Of raine ne haile that hem hurte might,
The savour, eke, rejoice would any wight
That had be sicke or melancolious;
It was so very good and vertuous.
And with great reverence they enclined low
To the tree so soot and faire of hew;
And after that, within a little throw,
They began to sing and daunce of new,
Some song of love, some plaining of untrew,
Environing the tree that stood upright;
And ever yede a lady and a knight.
And at the last I cast mine eye aside,
And was ware of a lusty company
That come roming out of the field wide,
Hond in hond a knight and a lady;
The ladies all in surcotes, that richely
Purfiled were with many a rich stone,
And every knight of green ware mantles on,
Embrouded well so as the surcotes were,
And everich had a chapelet on her hed,
Which did right well upon the shining here,
Made of goodly floures white and red;
The knightes eke that they in honde led,
In sute of hem ware chapelets everichone,
And before hem went minstrels many one,
As harpes, pipes, lutes, and sautry,
Alle in greene; and on their heades bare
Of divers floures made full craftely,
All in a sute goodly chapelets they ware;
And so dauncing into the mede they fare
In mid the which they found a tuft that was
All oversprad with floures in compas.
Whereto they enclined everichone
With great reverence, and that full humbly;
And, at the last, there began, anone,
A lady for to sing right womanly,
A bargeret in praising the daisie;
For as me thought among her notes swete,
She said "Si douce est la Margarete."
Than they alle answered her in fere,
So passingly well, and so pleasauntly,
That it was a blisful noise to here,
But I n'ot how it happed, suddainly,
As about noone, the Sunne so fervently
Waxe hote, that the prety tender floures
Had lost the beauty of hir fresh coloures.
Forshronke with heat, the ladies eke to-brent,
That they ne wist where they hem might bestow;
The knightes swelt for lack of shade nie shent,
And after that, within a little throw,
The wind began so sturdily to blow,
That down goeth all the floures everichone,
So that in all the mede there left not one;
Save such as succoured were among the leves
Fro every storme that might hem assaile,
Growing under the hegges and thicke greves;
And after that, there came a storme of haile,
And raine in fere, so that withouten faile,
The ladies ne the knightes n'ade o threed
Drie on them, so dropping was hir weed.
And whan the storm was cleane passed away,
Tho in white that stood under the tree,
They felt nothing of the great affray,
That they in greene without had in ybe
To them they yede for routh and pite,
Them to comfort after their great disease,
So faine they were the helplesse for to ease.
Than I was ware how one of hem in grene
Had on a crowne rich and well sitting,
Wherefore I demed well she was a quene,
And tho in grene on her were awaiting;
The ladies then in white that were comming
Toward them, and the knights in fere,
Began to comfort hem, and make hem chere.
The queen in white, that was of great beauty,
Took by the hond the queen that was in grene,
And said, "Suster, I have right great pity
Of your annoy, and of the troublous tene,
Wherein ye and your company have bene
So long, alas! and if that it you please
Το go
with me,
I shall do you the ease,
"In all the pleasure that I can or may;"
Whereof the other humbly as she might,
Thanked her; for in right ill array
She was with storm and heat I you behight,
And every lady then anone right
That were in white, one of them took in grene
By the hond, which whan the knights had sene,
In like wise ech of them tooke a knight
Cladde in greene, and forth with hem they fare,
To an hegge, where they anon right
To make their justs they would not spare
Boughes to hew down, and eke trees square,
Wherwith they made hem stately fires great,
To dry their clothes that were ringing weat.
And after that of hearbes that there grew,
They made for blisters of the Sunne brenning,
Very good and wholesome ointments new,
Where that they yede the sick fast anointing;
And after that they yede about gadering
Pleasaunt salades which they made hem eat,
For to refresh their great unkindly heat.
The lady of the Leafe than began to pray
Her of the Floure (for so to my seeming
They should be as by their array)
To soupe with her, and eke for any thing,
That she should with her all her people bring;
And she ayen in right goodly manere,
Thanked her of her most friendly cheare,
Saying plainely, that she would obay
With all her hert, all her commaundement;
And then, anon, without lenger delay
The lady of the Leafe hath one ysent,
For a palfray, after her intent,
Arrayed well and faire in harneis of gold,
For nothing lacked, that to him long shold.
And after that to all her company
She made to purvey horse and every thing
That they needed, and than full lustily,
Even by the herber where I was sitting
They passed all so pleasantly singing,
That it would have comforted any wight;
But then I sie a passing wonder sight.
For then the nightingale, that all the day
Had in the laurer sate, and did her might
The whole service to sing longing to May,
All sodainly began to take her flight;
And to the lady of the Leafe forthright
She flew, and set her on her hond softly,
Which was a thing I marveled of greatly.
The goldfinch eke, that fro the medler tree
Was fled for heat into the bushes cold,
Unto the lady of the Flower gan flee,
And on her hond he sit him as he wold,
And pleasauntly his winges gan to fold;
And for to sing they pained hem both as sore,
As they had do of all the day before.
And so these ladies rode forth a great pace,
And all the rout of knightes eke in fere;
And I that had seen all this wonder case,
Thought I would assay in some manere,
To know fully the trouth of this matere;
And what they were that rode so pleasantly:
And whan they were the herber passed by,
I drest me forth, and happed to mete, anone,
Right a faire lady, I do you ensure ;
And she came riding by herselfe alone,
Alle in white, with semblance ful demure,
I salued her, and bad good aventure
Might her befall, as I coud most humbly;
And she answered, "My doughter, gramercy!"
"Madame," quoth I, "if that I durst enquere
Of you, I would faine of that company
Wite what they be that past by this arbere?”
And she ayen answered right friendly;
My faire doughter, all tho that passed hereby
In white clothing, be servaunts everichone
Unto the Leafe, and I my selfe am one."
"See ye not her that crowned is," quoth she,
"All in white?"-" Madame," quoth I, "yes:"
"That is Diane, goddesse of chastite,
And for because that she a maiden is,
In her hond the braunch she beareth this,
That agnus castus men call properly,
And all the ladies in her company,
"Which ye se of that hearbe chapelets weare
Be such as han kept alway hir maidenheed:
And all they that of laurer chapelets beare,
Be such as hardy were, and manly in deed,
Victorious name which never may be dede!
And all they were so worthy of hir hond,
In hir time that none might hem withstond.
"And tho that weare chapelets on their hede
Of fresh wood bind, be such as never were
To love untrue in word, thought, ne dede,
But aye stedfast, ne for pleasaunce, ne fere,
Though that they should their hertes all to-tere,
Would never flit but ever were stedfast,
Till that their lives there asunder brast."
"Now fair madame," quoth I, "yet I would pray
Your ladiship, if that it mighte be,
That I might knowe by some maner way,
Sith that it hath liked your beaute,
The trouth of these ladies for to tell me,
What that these knightes be in rich armour,
And what tho be in grene and weare the flour?
"And why that some did reverence to that tre,
And some unto the plot of floures faire?"
"With right good will my fair doughter," quoth she
"Sith your desire is good and debonaire,
Tho nine crowned, be very exemplaire,
Of all honour longing to chivalry,
And those certaine be called the Nine Worthy,
|