And ever ilike1 faire, and fressh of hewe.
And I love it, and ever ylike newe,
And ever shal, til that myn hertë dye;
Al swere I nat 2 of this I wol nat lye,
Ther lovedë no wight hotter in his lyve.
And, whan that hit ys eve, I rennë blyve3,
As sone as ever the sonnë gynneth weste,
To seen this flour, how it wol go to reste,
For fere of nyght, so hateth she derknesse!
Hire chere is pleynly sprad in the brightnesse
Of the sonnë, for ther yt wol unclose.
Allas, that I ne had Englyssh, ryme, or prose,
Suffisant this flour to preyse aryght!
But helpeth, ye that han konnyng and myght,
Ye lovers, that kan make of sentement;
In this case oghten ye be diligent,
To forthren me somwhat in my labour,
Whethir ye ben with the leef or with the flour*,
For wel I wot, that ye han herbiforn
Of makynge ropen3, and lad awey the corn;
And I come after, glenyng here and there,
And am ful glad yf I may fynde an ere
Of any goodly word that ye han left.
And thogh it happen me rehercen eft
That ye han in your fresshë songës sayd,
Forbereth me, and beth not evil apayd®,
Syn that ye see I do yt in the honour
Of love, and eke in service of the flour,
Whom that I serve as I have wit or myght.
She is the clerenesse and the verray lyght,
That in this derke worlde me wynt and ledyth,
The hert in-with my sorwful brest yow dredith,
And loveth so sore, that ye ben verrayly
The maistresse of my wit, and nothing I.
My word, my werkes, ys knyt so in your bond
That, as an harpe obeieth to the hond
1 alike.
* See the introduction to the poem of that name, p. 84.
be not ill pleased.
5 reaped the fruit of poetry.
That maketh it soune after his fyngerynge,
Ryght so mowe1 ye oute of myn hertë bringe
Swich vois, ryght as yow lyst, to laughe or pleyne;
Be ye myn gide, and lady sovereyne.
As to my erthely God, to yow I calle,
Bothe in this werke, and in my sorwes alle.
[He falls asleep, and dreams that he sees the God of Love leading in Queen Alcestis, clad like the daisy.]
Whan that the sonne out of the south gan weste,
And that this flour gan close, and goon to reste,
For derknesse of the nyght, the which she dredde,
Home to myn house ful swiftly I me spedde
To goon to reste, and erly for to ryse,
To seen this flour sprede, as I devyse.
And in a litel herber that I have,
That benched was on turvës fresshe ygrave,
I bad men sholdë me my couchë make;
For deyntee of the newë someres sake2,
I bad hem strawen flourës on my bed.
Whan I was leyd, and had myn eyen hed3,
I fel on slepe, in-with an houre or twoo,
Me mette how I lay in the medewe thoo,
To seen this flour that I love so and drede;
And from a-fer come walkyng in the mede
The God of Love, and in his hande a quene,
And she was clad in reäl habit grene;
A fret of gold she haddë next her heer,
And upon that a whit coroune she beer,
With flourouns smale, and [that] I shal nat lye,
For al the world ryght as a dayësye
Ycorouned ys with whitë levës lyte',
So were the flowrouns of hire coroune white;
For of oo perlë, fyne, oriental,
Hire white corounë was imaked al,
2 for the sake of the rarity of the new summer.
5 then. • royal. 7 little
For which the white coroune above the grene
Made hirë lyke a dayesie for to sene,
Considered eke hir fret of golde above.
Yclothed was this myghty God of Love
In silke, enbrouded ful of grenë greves1,
In-with a fret of redë rose leves,
The fresshest syn the world was first begonne.
His giltë here was coroned with a sonne
In stede of gold, for hevynesse and wyghte';
Therwith me thoght his facë shoon so brighte
That wel unnethës3 myghte I him beholde;
And in his hand me thoghte I saugh him holde
Twoo firy dartës, as the gledës * rede,
And aungelyke hys wyngës saugh I sprede.
And, al be that men seyn that blynd ys he,
Algate me thoghtë that he myghtë se;
For sternëly on me he gan byholde,
So that his loking dooth myn herte colde.
And by the hande he held this noble quene,
Coroned with white, and clothed al in grene,
So womanly, so bénigne, and so meke,
That in this world, thogh that men woldë seke,
Half of hire beauté shuldë men nat fynde
In creäture that formed ys by kynde.
And therfore may I seyn, as thynketh me,
This song in preysyng of this lady fre.
Hyde, Absalon, thy giltë tresses clere ;
Ester, ley thou thy mekenesse al adown;
Hyde, Jonathas, al thy frendly manere ;
Penelopee, and Marcia Catoun",
Make of your wifhode no comparysoun;
Hyde ye your beautes, Ysoude' and Eleyne,
My lady comith, that al this may disteyne.
Thy faire body lat yt nat appere,
Lavyne; and thou Lucresse of Romë toune,
And Polixene, that boghten love so dere,
And Cleopatre, with al thy passyoun,
Hyde ye your trouthe of love, and your renoun,
And thou, Tesbé, that hast of love suche peyne,
My lady comith, that al this may disteyne.
Hero, Dido, Laudomia, alle yfere1,
And Phillis, hangyng for thy Demophoun,
And Canace, espied by thy chere2,
Ysiphile betraysed with Jasoun,
Maketh of your trouthë neyther boost ne soun,
Nor Ypermystre, or Adriane3, ye tweyne,
My lady cometh, that all this may dysteyne.
THE PROLOGUE TO THE CANTERBURY TALES.
Whan that Aprillë with his schowrës swoote
The drought of Marche had perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertue engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his swetë breethe
Enspired hath in every holte and heethe
The tendre croppës, and the yongë sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours i-ronne,
And smale fowlës maken melodie,
That slepen al the night with open eye,
So priketh hem nature in here corages* :-
Than longen folk to gon on pilgrimages,
And palmers for to seeken straungë strondes,
To ferne halwes, kouthe in sondry londes;
And specially, from every schirës ende
Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,
2 discovered by thy look.
• Ariadne. ⚫ distant saints, known.
The holy blisful martir for to seeke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke1.
Byfel that, in that sesoun on a day,
In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay,
Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage
To Caunterbury with ful devout corage,
At night was come into that hostelrye
Wel nyne and twenty in a compainye,
Of sondry folk, by aventure i-falle
In felaweschipe, and pilgryms were thei alle,
That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde;
The chambres and the stables weren wyde,
And wel we werën esed attë beste2.
And schortly, whan the sonnë was to reste,
So hadde I spoken with hem everychon,
That I was of here felaweschipe anon,
And made forward erly for to ryse,
To take our wey ther as I yow devyse.
But nathëles, whil I have tyme and space,
Or that I forther in this talë pace,
Me thinketh it acordaunt to resoun,
To tellë yow al the condicioun
Of eche of hem, so as it semede me,
And whiche they weren, and of what degre;
And eek in what array that they were inne:
And at a knight than wol I first bygynne.
A KNIGHT ther was, and that a worthy man,
That from the tyme that he first bigan
To ryden out, he lovede chyvalrye,
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisye.
Ful worthy was he in his lordës werre,
And therto hadde he riden, noman ferre*,
As wel in Cristendom as in hethënesse,
And evere honoured for his worthinesse.
At Alisaundre he was whan it was wonne,
Ful oftë tyme he hadde the bord bygonne"
• Either been served first at table,' or 'begun the tournament.'
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