« AnteriorContinuar »
And, after that, to all hire company
“ And tho that were chapelets, on hir hede,
Of fresh wodebind, be such as never were
To Love untrue, in wordi, in thought, ne dede;
But ay stedfast; ne for plesance ne fere,
Tho that they shulde hir hertes all to tere,
Woud never flit, but ever were stedfast,
Till that hir lives there asunder brast."
For then the nightingale, that all the day
“ Now, fair Madam!” (quod 1,) yet woud I pray
The goldfinch, eke, that fro the medlar tre
“ And why that some did rev’rence to the tre,
With right gode will, my daughter fair!” (quod
* And tho that baren bowes in hir hond,
I drest me forth ; and happed mete, anon,
“ Eke there be Knightes old of the Garter,
* Se ye not hire that crowned is” (quod she)
agnus castus men call properly; And all the ladies, in hire company,
" For one Lefe given of that noble tre
ye se of that herbe chaplets were, Be such as han alway kept maidenhede. And all they that of laurer chaplets bere, Be such as hardy were in manly dede, Victorious names which never may be dede; And all they were so worthy of hir honde, la bir time, that no one might hem withistonde.
* And as for hire that crouned is in grene,
" And for the great delite, and the plesaunce, They have to the Flour, and so reverently They unto it doen such obeisaunce, As ye may se." “ Now, fair Madame!" (quod I,) “ If I durst ask what is the cause, and why, That knightes have the enseigne of honour Rather by the Lefe than by the Flour?"
“Sothly, doughter,” (quod she) “ this is the trouth;
" And every storme woll blawe hem sone away, Ne they laste not but for a seson, That is the cause (the very trouth to say) That they may not, by no way of reson, Be put to no such occupation." “Madame!" (quod I)" with all mine whole servise I thank you now in my most humble wise; « For now I am ascertain'd thoroughly Of every thing I desired to knowe.” “ I am right glad that I have said, sothly, Ought to your plesure, if ye will me trow.” (Quod she ayen.) “ But to whom do ye owe Your service, and which wollen ye honour (Pray tell me) this year, the Lefe or the Flour)" “ Madam!" (quod I) “ although I lest worthy, Unto the Lefe I ow mine observaunce." “ That is,” (quod she)“ right well done, certainly; And I pray God to honour you advance, And kepe you fro the wicked remembraunce Of Malebouch, and all his crueltie; And all that gode and well conditioned be.
PART OF THE KNIGHTES TALE. I trowe men wolde deme it negligence, If I foryette to tellen the dispence Of Theseus, that got so besily To maken up the listes really, That swiche a noble theatre as it was, I dare wel sayn, in all this world ther n'as. The circuite a mile was about, Walled of stone, and diched all withoute. Round was the shape, in manere of a compas Ful of degrees, the hight of sixty pas, That whan a man was set on o degree He letted not his felaw for to see. Estward ther stood a gate of marbel white, Westward right swiche another in th' opposite. And shortly to concluden, swiche a place Was never in erthe, in so litel a space, For in the lond ther n'as no craftes man, That geometrie, or arsmetrike can, Ne portreiour, ne kerver of images, That Theseus ne yaf him mete and wages The theatre for to maken and devise.
And for to don his rite and sacrifice,
But yet had I foryetten to devise
First in the temple of Venus maist thou see
“ For here I may no lenger now abide,
And put all that I had sene in writing,
Ne Narcissus the fayre of yore agon,
Conteke with blody knif, and sharp manace : Ne yet the folie of king Salomon,
All full of chirking was that sory place. Ne yet the grete strengthe of Hercules,
The sleer of himself yet saw I there, Th'enchantment of Medea and Circes,
His herte-blood hath bathed all his here: Ne of Turnus the hardy ffers corage,
The naile ydriven in the shode on hight, The riche Cresus caitif in servage.
The colde deth, with mouth gaping upright, Thus may ye seen, that wisdom ne richesse, Amiddes of the temple sate mischance, Beaute ne sleighte, strengthe ne hardinesse, With discomfort and sory countenance. Ne may with Venus holden champartie,
Yet saw I woodnesse laughing in his rage. For as hire liste the world may she gie.
Armed complaint, outhees, and fiers outrage; Lo, all these folk so caught were in hire las The carraine in the bush, with throte ycorven, Til they for wo ful often said Alas.
A thousand slain, and not of qualme ystorven; Sufficeth here ensamples on or two,
The tirant, with the prey by force yraft; And yet I coude reken a thousand mo.
The toun destroied, ther was nothing laft. The statue of Venus glorious for to see,
Yet saw I brent the shippes hoppesteres, Was naked fleeting in the large see.
The hunte ystrangled with the wilde beres: And fro the navel doun all covered was
The sow freting the child right in the cradel; With waves grene, and bright as any glas.. The coke yscalled, for all his long ladel. A citole in hire right hond hadde she,
Nought was foryete by th' infortune of Marte And on hire hed, ful semely for to see,
The carter overridden with his carte; A rose gerlond fresh, and wel smelling,
Under the wheel ful low he lay adoun. Above hire hed hire doves fleckering.
Ther were also of Martes division, Before hire stood hire sone Cupido,
Th’armerer, and the bowyer, and the smith, l'pon his shoulders winges had he two;
That forgeth sharpe swerdes on his stith. And blind he was, as it is often sene ;
And all above depeinted in a tour
Why shulde I not as wel eke tell you all With thilke sharp swerd over his hed
Yhanging by a subtil twined thred.
All be that thilke time they were unborne,
By manacing of Mars, right by figure, Ther as Mars hath his sovereine mansion.
So was it shewed in that purtreiture
As is depeinted in the cercles above,
Sufficeth on ensample in stories olde,
I may not reken hem alle, though I wolde. In which ther ran a romble and a swough,
The statue of Mars upon a carte stood As though a storme shuld bresten every bough:
Armed, and toked grim as he were wood, And dounward from an hill under a bent,
And over his hed ther shinen two figures Ther stood the temple of Mars armipotent,
Of sterres, that ben eleped in scriptures,
With eyen red, and of a man he ete:
With subtil pensil peinted was this storie, For window on the wall ne was ther none,
In redouting of Mars and of his glorie. Thurgh which men mighten any light discerne. Now to the temple of Diane the chaste The dore was all of athamant eterne,
As shortly as I can I wol me haste,
To tellen you of the descriptioun,
Of hunting and of shamefast chastitee.
Ther saw I how woful Calistope, Ther saw I first the derke imagining
Whan that Diane agreved was with here, Of felonie, aud alle the compassing:
Was turned from a woman til a bere, The cruel ire, red as any glede,
And after was she made the lodesterre: The pihepurse, and eke the pale drede;
Thus was it peinted, I can say no ferre;
Hire sone is eke a sterre as men may see.
I mene not hire the goddesse Diane,
vengeance that he saw Diane all naked
This goddesse on an hart ful heye sete,
Now ben these listes made, and Theseus
The day approcheth of hir returning,
And right so ferden they with Palamon.
Everich after his opinion.
There maist thou se coming with Palamon
With Arcita, in stories as men find,
And in this wise, these lordes all and some
Abouten primo, and in the town alight.
Thy tomple wol I worship everno, This Theseus, this duk, this worthy knight, And on thin auter, wher I ride or go, Whan he had brought hem into his citce,
I wol don sacrifice, and fires bete. And inned hem, everich at his degree,
And if ye wol not so, my lady swete, He festeth hem, and doth so gret labour
Than pray I you, to-morwe with a spere To esen hem, and don hem all honour,
That Arcita me thurgh the herte bere. That yet men wenen that no mannes wit
Than rekke I not, whan I have lost my lif, Of non estat ne coud amenden it.
Though that Arcita win hire to his wif. The minstralcie, the service at the feste,
This is the effecte and ende of my praiere; The grete yeftes to the most and leste,
Yeve me my love, thou blissful lady dere." The riche array of Theseus paleis,
Whan the orison was don of Palamon, Ne who sate first, ne last upon the deis,
His sacrifice he did, and that anon, What ladies fayrest ben or best dancing,
Full pitously, with alle circumstances, Or which of hem can carole best or sing,
All tell I not as now his observances. Ne who most felingly speketh of love;
But at the last the statue of Venus shoke, What haukes sitten on the perche above,
And made a signe, wherby that he toke, What houndes liggen on the floor adoun,
That his praiere accepted was that day. Of all this now make I no mentioun;
For though the signe shewed a delay, But of the effect; that thinketh me the beste ; Yet wist he wel that granted was his bone; Now cometh the point, and herkeneth if you leste. And with glad herte he went him home ful sone. The Sonday night, or day began to spring,
The thridde houre inequal that Palamon Whan Palamon the larke herde sing,
Began to Venus temple for to gon, Although it n'ere not day by loures two,
Up rose the Sonne, and up rose Emelie, Yet sang the larke, and Palamon right tho
And to the temple of Diane gan hie. With holy herte, and with an high corage
Hire maydens, that she thider with hire ladde, He rose, to wenden on his pilgrimage
Ful redily with hem the fire they hadde, Unto the blissful Citherea benigne,
Th'encense, the clothes, and the remenant all I mene Venus, honourable and digne.
That to the sacrifice longen shall, And in bire houre, he walketh forth a pas
The hornes ful of mede, as was the gise, l'nto the listes, ther hire temple was.
Ther lahked nought to don hire sacrifise. And doun he kneleth, and with humble chero Smoking the temple, ful of clothes fayro, And herte core, he sayde as ye shul here.
This Emelie with herte debonaire " Fayrest of fayre, o lady inin Venus,
Hire body wesshe with water of a well. Daughter to Jove, and spouse of Vulcanus,
But how she did hire rite I dare not tell; Thou glader of the mount of Citheron,
But it be any thing in general; For thilke love thou haddest to Adon
And yet it were a game to heren all; Have pitee on my bitter teres smert,
To him that meneth wel it n'cre no charge: And take myn humble prajer at thin herte. But it is good a man to ben at large. - Alas! I pe have no langage to tell
Hire bright here kembed was, untressed all. The effecte, ne the torment of inin Hell;
A coroune of a grene oke cerial Min herte may min harmes not bewrey:
Upon hire hed was set ful fayre and mete.
Two fires on the auter gan she bete,
Whan kindled was the fire, with pitous chere As wisly as I shall for evermore
Unto Diane she spake, as ye may here. Emforth my might thy trewe servant be,
“O chaste goddesse of the wodes grene, And holden werre alway with chastite:
To whom both Heven and erthe and see is bene, That make I min avow, so ye me helpe.
Quene of the regne of Pluto, derke and lowe, I kepe nought of armes for to yelpe,
Goddesse of maydens, that min herte hast knowe Ne axe I nat to-morwe to have victorie,
Ful many a yere, and wost what I desire, Ne renoun in this cas, ne vaine glorie
As kepe me fro thy vengeance and thin ire, Of pris of armes, blowen up and doun,
That Atteon aboughte cruelly: But I wold have fully possessioun
Chaste goddesse, wel wotest thou that I
Desire to ben a mayden all my lif,
I am (thou wost) yet of thy compagnie,
A mayde, and love hunting and venerie, So that I have my lady in min armes.
And for to walken in the wodes wilde, For though so be that Mars is god of armes, And not to ben a wif, and be with childe, Your vertue is so grete in lleven above,
Nought wol I knowen compagnie of man. That if you like, I shal wel have my love.
Now help inc, lady, sith ye may and can,