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|
When Flora, the Quene of Pleasaunce,
Had hol acheved th' obessiaunce
Of the freshe and new season
Thorowte every region,
And withe her mantell hol covert
That winter made had discovert,
Of aventure, without light,
In May I lay uppon a nyght
Allone, and on my lady thowght
And how the Lord that her wrought
Couthe well entayle in imagerye1
And shewed had great masterye
When he in so litle space
Made suche a body and a face:
So great beawty, with suche features,
More then in other creatures.
And in my thowghtes, as I laye
In a lodge out of the waye,
Beside a well in a foreste,
Wher after huntinge I toke reste,
Nature and kynd so in me wrought
That halfe on slepe thay me browght,
And gan to dreme, to my thinkinge,
With minde of knowledge leke wakinge.
For what I dreamed, as me thought,
I sawe it, and I slepte nought.
Wherfore is yet my full beleve
That some good spirite, that eve,
By maner of some cureux port
Bare me where I saw payne and sport.
But wether it were I woke or slept,
Well wot I oft I laught and wepte.
Wherefor I woll in remembraunce
Put hole the paine and the pleasaunce
Whiche was to me axes and heale.
Wold God ye wiste it every dele!
Or at the least ye might on night
Of suche another have a syght.
Althowghe it were to yow a payne,
Yet, on the morrowe, ye wold be fayne
And wishe it might longe duer.
Then might you saye ye had good eure!
For who that dremes and wenes he see,
Muche the better yet may hee
Wit what, and of home, and where,
And eke the lesse it wol him deare.
To thinke I se thus withe myne eyne!
Iwis this may no dreme bene,
But signe or signiffiaunce
Of hasty thinge, soundinge pleasaunce.2
For on this wise uppon a nyght,
As ye have hard, witheout light,
Not all wakynge ne full on slepe,
Abowte suche houre as lovers wepe
And cry after ther ladies grace,
Befell me this wonder case
Whiche ye shall here and all the wise
As holly as I cane devise
In playne Englishe, evell writton;
For slepe wrightter, well ye weten,
Excused is, thowghe he do mise,
More then on that wakinge is.
Wherefor, here, of your gentulnes
I you requier my boysteousnes
Ye let passe as thinge rude,
And hereth what I woll conclude;
And of th' enditinge takethe no hede,
Ne of the termes, so God you sped,
But let all passe as nothinge were:
For thus befell as ye shall here.
Withein an ylle me thowght I was
Where wall and yate was all of glasse,
And so was closed rounde abowte
That leveles non come in ne owt:
Uncothe and straunge to beholde.
For every yate of fine golde
A thousannd fannes ay turninge
Entuned had, and birdes singinge
Diverse, and on eche fanne a payer
Withe open mouthe agayne th' ayer.
And of a suite were all the towers
Sotilly carven after flowers
Of uncothe colours, duringe aye,
That never been none sene in May,
Withe many a smale turret highe.
But mane on lyve culd I non spye,
Ne creatures save ladyes playe,
Wiche were suche of ther arraye
That, as me thowght, of godlyhed
They passen all and womanhed.
For to beholde hem daunce and singe
Hit semed like none earthely thinge,
Suche was ther uncoth countenaunce
In every playe of right usaunce.3
And of one age everychon
They semed all, save only one
Wiche had of yeres sufficaunce;
For she might neyther singe ne daunce,
But yet her countenaunce was as glad
As she as few yeres had hadd
As any lady that was there;
And as litle it did her dere
Of lustines to laugh and tale
As she had full stuffed a male
Of disport and new playes.
Fayre had she been in her dayes,
And mistres semed well to be
Of all that lusty companye;
And so she might, I you ensure,
For on the coningest creature
She was, and so sayd everychone
That ever her knew, ther fayled none;
For she was sobre and well avised,
And from every fault disguysed,
And nothinge used but faythe and trothe.
That she nas younge hit was great routhe,
For everywhere and in eche place
She governed her, that in grace
She stod alwaye withe pore and riche,
That, in a word, was none her liche,
Ne halfe so able misteres to be
To suche a lustye company.
Byfell me so, when I avised
Had the yle, at me sufficed,
And hol th' astate everywhere
That in that lusty yle was there,
Wiche was more wonder to devise
Then the joieux paradise,
I dare well say; for flower, ne tree,
Ne thinge wherein pleassaunce myght be,
Ther fayled none for every wighte;
Had thay desyred day and nyghte
Richesse, hele, beauwty, and ease,
Withe everye thinge that hem might please,
Thynke, and have, hit cost no more.
In suche a countrye there before
Had I not been, ne hard tell
That lyves creature might dwell.
And when I had thus all abowght
The yle advised thorowghte
The state and how they were arrayed,
In my harte I wex well payed,
And in my self I me assured
That in my body I was well eured,
Sithe I might have suche a grace
To se the ladyes and the place
Wiche were so fayer, I you ensure,
That to my dome, thowghe that nature
Wold ever strive and do hir payne,
She shuld not con ne mowe attaigne
The lest feature to amende;
Thowgh she wold all hir coninge spende
That to beawty might availe,
Hit were but payne and lost travayle:
Suche parte in ther nativite
Was hem alarged of beawtie.
And eke they had a thinge notable
Unto ther deathe ay durable,
And was that ther beawte shuld dure,
Wiche was never seen in creature;
Save only ther, as I trowe,
Hit hathe not be wist ne know.
Wherefore I praise with ther coninge
That duringe bewte, riche thinge;
Had thay been of ther lyves certaigne,
Thay had been qwyt of every payne.
And when I wend thus all have seen,
Th' estate, the riches, that might been,
That me thowght impossible were
To se one thinge more then was there
That to beautie or glad coninge
Serve or avayle might ony thinge,
All sodenly, as I there stode,
This lady, that couth so moche good,
Unto me come withe smilinge chere
And sayd: 'Benedicite! This yere
Saw I never man here but you.
Tell me how ye come hether nowe,
And your name, and were you dwell,
And whom ye sek eke mot ye tell,
And how ye come be to this place.
The soth well told may cause you grace;
And else ye mote prisoner be
Unto these ladyes here and me
That han the governaunce of this yle.'
And withe that word she gane to smyle,
And so dyd all the lusty rowte
Of ladyes that stode her abowte.
'Madame,' quod I, 'this night paste,
Lodged I was and slepte faste
In a forest beside a well,
And nowe ame here. How shuld I tell?
Wot I not by whos ordinaunce,
But only Fortunes purveaunce
Wiche puttes many, as I gesse,
To travell, payne, and busines,
And lettes nothinge for ther trowth
But some sleethe eke, and that is rowth;
Wherefore I dowt hir britelnes,
Hir variaunce and unstedfastnes,
So that I am as yet affrayd
And of my beinge here amayed;
For wondre thinge, semethe me,
Thus many freshe ladyes to see,
So fayer, so connynge, and so yonge,
And no mane dwellethe hem amonge.
Wot I not how I hether come,
Madame,' quod I, 'this all and some. 4
What shuld I feyne a longe processe
To you that seme suche a princes?
What please you comaunde or saye,
Here I am you to obeye
To my power, and all fulfill,
And prisoner byde at your will
Till you dewlye enformed be
Of everye thinge ye aske me.'
This lady ther right well appayed
Me by th' ande toke and sayd:
'Welcome, prisoner adventurus!
Right glad am I ye have sayd thus.
And for ye doute me to displease,
I will assaye to do you ease.'
And with that word, ye anon,
She and the ladyes everychone
Assembled and to counsell went;
And after that, sone for me sent,
And to me sayd on this maner,
Word for word as ye shall here.
'To se you here us thinketh marvayle,
And how witheout boot or sayle
By any souttyllete or wyle
Ye get have entre in this Ile.
But not for that, yet shall you see
That we gentilwomen bee,
Lothe to displease any wight,
Notwithstondinge our great right.
And for ye shall well understand
The old custome of this lande
Wiche hathe continewed many yere,
Ye shall well wyt that withe us here
Ye may not byd, for causes twayne
Wheche we be purposed you to seyne.
The ton is this: our ordinaunce,
Whiche is of longe continuaunce,
Woll not, sothely we you tell,
That no mane here amonge us dwell;
Wherefore ye mot nedes retorne.
In no weys may ye here sojorne.
The tother is eke that our qwene
Owt of the reme, as ye may sene,
Is, and may be to us a charge
Yf we let you go here at large.
For wiche cause, the more we dowbte
To do a faute while she is owte,
Or suffer that may be noysaunce
Again our olde acustemaunce.'
And when I had these causes tweine
Herd, O God, whiche a payne
All sodenly abowte my harte
Ther come attons, and how smerte!
In crepinge soft, as who wold stele
Or me do robe of all myn hele;
And made me in my thought so frayd
That in corage I stode dismayed.
And standinge thus, as was my grace,
A lady come, more then apas,
Withe huge pres hir abowte,
And told how the quene withoute
Was arryved and wold come in.
Wele were thay that thether might wyn;
They hied so, they wold not byde
The bridelinge of ther horse to ryde.
By ten, by six, by two, by thre,
Ther was not one abode with me.
The quene to mete, everychone
They went, and bod withe me not one.
And I after, a softe paas,
Imageninge how to purchace
Grace of the quene ther t' abyde,
Till good fortune some happy guyde
Me send might, that wold me bringe
Where I was borne to my woninge;
For way ne sent knew I none,
Ne whetherward I nyst to gone,
For all was see aboute the Ile.
No wonder thowghe me lest not smyle,
Seinge the case unquowth and straunge
And so like a perelus chaunge.
Imageninge thus, walkinge allone,
I saw the ladyes everychone.
So that I myght somwhat ofer,
Sone after that I drew me neare.
And tho I was war of the quene,
And how the ladyes on there knene
Withe joyeuse wordes, gladly avised,
Hir welcomed, so that hit sufficed
Thoghe she princes hole had bee
Of all that vironed is withe see.
And thus avisinge with chere sadd,
All sodenlye I wex gladd,
That greatter joye, as mot I thrive,
I trow had never mon on lyve
Then had I tho, ne harte more light,
When of my lady I had syght
Wiche withe the quene come was there.
And in one clothinge bothe they were.5
A knyght also, right wel besene,
I sawe, that come was with the quene;
Of whom the ladyes of that Ile
Had huge wonder longe whyle,
Till at the last, right soberlye
The quene herselfe full coninglye
With softe wordes, in goodlye wyse,
Sayd to the ladyes yonge and wyse:
'My susters, how hit hathe befall,
I trow ye know it, on and all,
That of longe tyme here have I been
Withein this yle bydinge as quene,
Lyvinge at ease, that never wight
More perfyte joye have ne mighte;
And to you been of governaunce
Suche as ye fond in hol pleasaunce
In every thinge, as ye knowe,
After our costome and our lowe.
Wiche how they first found were,
I trow ye wote all the manere
And how who quene is of this Ile -
As I have bene longe while -
Yche seven yeres mot of usage
Visyt the hevenly armitage,
Wiche on a roche so highe stondes
In strange se, out from all londes,
That to make the pillerenage
Is caled a longe perileuse viage;
For yf the winde be not good frind,
The jorney duers to th' ende
Of hem that hit undertakes:
Of twenti thousande one not skapes.
Oppon whiche roche growethe a tree
That certayne yeres bares apples three,
Wiche thre apples who may have
Bene from all displeasaunce save
That in the seven yere may fall.
This wote ye well, one and all.
For the first appull, and the hexst
Whiche growethe unto you nexst,
Hathe thre vertues notable
And kepethe youthe ay durable,
Bewtie and hele ever in one,
And is the beste in everychone.
The second appule, red and grene,
Only with lokes of your yene
You nurrisshes in pleasaunce
Better then partrich ne fesaunce,
And fedes every lyves wyght
Plesauntlye with the syght.
The thirde appule of the thre,
Wiche growethe loueste in the tree,
Who yt beres may not fayle
That to his pleasaunce may availe.
So your pleasure and beutie riche,
Your duringe youthe ever liche,
Your trothe, your coninge, and your welle,
Hathe ay flowred, and your good hele
Witheout sicknes or displesaunce
Or thinge that to you was noysaunce,
So that you have as goddesses
Lived aboven all princesses.
Now is byfall as ye may see:
To gedre these sayd appuls three,
I have not fayled agayne the daye
Thetherward to take the weye,
Weninge to spede, as I had oft;
But when I come, I found aloft
My sister wiche that here stondes,
Havinge those appulles in her handes,
Avisinge hem, and nothinge sayde
But loked as she wer well payed.
And as I stode her to behold,
Thenkinge howe my joyes were cold
Sithe I those apples have ne might,
Even withe that, so come this knight,
And in his armes, of me unware,
Me toke, and to his shipe me bare,
And sayd, thowgh he me never had sene,
Yet had I longe his lady bene,
Wherefore I shuld withe him wend,
And he wolde to his lives ende
My servaunte be, and can to singe
As one that had wone riche thinge.
Tho were my spirites fro me gone
So sodenlye, everychone,
That in me appered but deathe;
For I feld neyther live, ne brethe,
Ne good, ne harme, non I knewe.
The sodeyne paine me was so new,
That had not the hasty grace be
Of this lady, that fro the tree
Of her gentulnes so hiede
Me to comforthe, I had dyed;
And of her three applus, one
In myn hand ther put annone,
Wiche browght agayne minde and brethe,
And me recovered from the deathe.
Wherefore to her so am I holde
That for her all thinge do I wolde;
For she was leche of all my smart,
And from great paine socourte myn harte,
And, as God wotte, right as ye here,
Me to comforte, with frindlye chere
She did her power and her might;
And trewlye eke so did this knight,
In that he couthe, and oft sayd
That of my woo he was il payed,
And cursed the shipe hem thether browght,
The mast, the master that hit wrought.
And as eche thinge mot have an ende,
My suster here, our brother frinde,
Con withe her wordes so womanlye
This knyght entreat and coningelye,
For myn honour and his also,
And sayd that with her we shuld goo
Bothe in her shippe, where she was browght,
Wiche was so wonderfullye wrought,
So clene, so riche, and so arrayed
That we were bothe content and payed.
And me to comfort and to plesse,
And myn hart to put at easse,
She toke great payne in litle while,
And thus hathe browght us to this Ile
As ye maye se. Wherefore echone
I praye you thanke her, one and one,
As hertelye as ye cane devise
Or imagen in any wyse.'
At once ther, tho, men myght sene
A world of ladyes fall on knene
Before my lady, that ther abowte
Was left none stanndinge in the route,
Bot all to th' erthe they went at once;
To knele they spared not for the stones,
Ne for estate, ne for ther blode.
Well shewed they ther they cuthe moche good,6
For to my lady they made suche feaste,
With such wordes, that the leste
So frindlye and so faythefullye
Sayd was, and so coninglye,
That wonder was, seinge ther youthe,
To here the launguage they cothe,
And holly how they governed were
In thannkynge of my ladye there;
And sayd by will and maundement
They were at her comandemente,
Wiche was to me as great a joye
As wininge of the towne of Troye
Was to the hardye Grekes stronge
When thay yt wane with seage longe:
To se my ladye in suche a place
So receyved as she was.
And when they taled had a while
Of this and that, and of the Ile,
My lady and the ladyes there,
All together as they were,
The quene herselfe begane to playe,
And to the aged lady saye:
'Now semethe you nat good it were,7
Sith we be all togither here,
To ordayne and avise the best
To set this knyght and me at rest?
For woman is a feble wyght
To rere a ware agayne a knyght.
And sith he here is in this place
At my lyst, daunger or grace,8
It were in me great villanye
To do him any tirrannye.
But fayne I wolde now, will ye here,
In his owne cunterye that he were,
And I in peace, and he at ease;
This were a waye us bothe to please.
Yf yt might be, I you beseche
Withe him hereof ye fall in speche.'
This lady tho began to smyle,
Avisinge her a littull whille,
And withe glad chere she sayd annon;
'Madame, I will unto him gone
And withe him speke, and of him fele
What he desyers, everye dele.'
And soberlye this lady tho,
Herselfe and other ladyes two
She toke withe her, and with sad chere
Sayd to the knyght on this maner:
'Syr, the princesse of this Ile,
Whom for your pleasaunce many myle
Ye sowght have, as I understand,
Till at the last ye have her found,
Me sende hathe here, and ladyes twayne,
To here all thinge that ye sayne,
And for what cause ye have her sowght,
Fayne wold she wyt, and hole your thought,
And whi you do her all this woo,
And for what cause ye be her foo,
And whi, of everye wight unware,
By force ye to your shippe her bare
That she so nyghe was agone
That minde ne speche had she none,
But as a paynefull creature
Diinge abode her adventure,
That her to se enduer that payne,
I dare well saye unto you playne,
Right on yourselfe ye did amise,
Seeinge how she a princes is.'
This knyght, the whiche couth his good,
Ryght of his trothe meved his blood,
That pale he wox as any ledd
And loked as he wold be dedd.
Blud was ther none in nayther cheke;
Wordles he was, and semed sike;
And so yt preved well he was,
For without mevinge any passe,
All sodenlye, as thinge dyinge,
He fell at once downe sowninge;
That, for his wo, this lady frayed
Unto the quene her hied and sayd:
'Comethe on, anone, as have ye blisse!
But be ye wyse, thinge is misse.
This knyght is ded or wil be sone;
Lo, where he lyethe yonde in sowne,
Without word or answeringe
To that I sayd have any thinge!9
Wherefore I dowbte that the blame
Might be hinderinge to your name,
Whiche flowred hathe so many yere
So longe, that for nothinge here
I wold in no wyse he dyedd.
Wherefore good were that ye hiedd
His lyfe to save, at the lest;
And after that his woo be ceste,
Commaunde him to voyd or dwell,
For in no wyse dare I more medell
Of thinge wherein suche perill is
As lyke is now to fall of this.'
This quene right tho, full of great feare,
Withe all the ladyes present there,
Unto the knyght come where he leye
And mad a lady to him saye:
'Lo, here the quene! Awacke, for shame!
What will ye do? Is this good game?
Whi lye you here? Where is your minde?
Now is well sene your wyt is blinde,
To see so many ladyes here,
And ye to make none other chere
But as ye sett them all at nowght.
Aryse, for His love that you bowght!'
But what she sayed, a word not one
He spake, ne answere gave her none.
The quene of very pytye tho,
Her worshipe and his life also
To save, ther she dyd her payne,
And quocke for fere and con to sayne
For woo: 'Allas, what shall I do?
What shall I saye this man unto?
Yf he dye here, lost is my name.
How shall I pleye this perilous game?
Yf any thinge be here amise,
Yt shal be sayd hit rigor is,
Whereby my name enpayer myght,
And like to dye eke is this knyght.'
And withe that word, her hande she layed
Uppon his brest, and to him sayed:
'Awacke, my knyght! Lo, yt am I
That to you speke! Now tell me whi
Ye fare thus and this payne enduer,
Seinge ye be in counterye suer,
Amonge suche frindes that wold your hele,
Your hartes ease eke, and your welle;
And yf I wyst what you might ease
Or knew the thinge that you might please,
I you ensuer it shulde not fayle
That to youre hele you might avayle.
Wherefore with all myne harte I praye
Ye rysse, and lett us tale and pleye,
And see how many ladyes here
Be common for to make you chere.'
All was for nawght; for still as stone
He laye, and worde spake he none.
Longe while was or he might brayd,
And of all that the quene had sayd
He wyst no worde; but at the last,
'Mercy' twies he cried faste,
That pyty was his voice to here
Or to beholde his paynefull chere,
Wiche was not fayned, well was to sene
Bothe by his visage and his eyne
Wiche on the quene at once he caste,
And syghte as he wolde to-braste.
And after that he shright soo
That wonder was to se his woo;
For sythe that paine was first named
Was never more woofull paine entamed,
For withe voice ded he gan to playne,
And to himselfe these wordes sayne:
'I, woofull wyght full of maleure,
Am worse then ded, and yet I duer
Magre any payne or deathe;
Agaynst my will I fele my brethe.
Whi ner I ded, sythe I ne serve
And sythe my lady will I sterve?
Where art thou, deathe? Art thou agast?
Well shall we mete yet at the laste!
Thowghe thou the hide, it is for nawght;
For, where thou dwell, thou shall be sought,
Magre thi subtill dowble face;
Here will I dye, right in this place,
To thi dishonour and myn ease.
Thi manner is no wyght to please.
What nedes the, sythe I the seche,
So the to hide, my paine to eche?
And well wyst thou I woll not lyve -
Who wolde me all this world here gefe -
For I have withe my cowardice
Lost joye, and helle, and my service,
And made my soveraigne lady soo,
That while she lyves, I trow, my foo
She wil be ever to her ende.
Thus have I neyther joye ne frend.
Wote I not whither hast or slowthe
Hathe caused this now, by my trothe;
For at the hermitage full hye,
Where I her saw first withe myn eye,
I hyed till I was alofte,
And mad my pace smale and softe,
Till in myn armes I had her faste,
And to my shipe bare at the laste;
Whereof she was displeased soo
That endles there semed her woo,
And I thereof had so great feare
That me repent that I came there;
Wiche hast, I trowe, con her displease
And be the cause of my deseace.'
And withe that word he can to crye
'Now deathe, deathe!' twy or thrye,
A motird wot I not what of slougthe.10
And even withe that, the quene, of routhe,
Him in her armes tooke and sayd:
'Now myn owne knyght, be not yll payed
That I a lady to you sente
To have knowledge of your entent;
For, in good faythe, I ment but well,
And wold ye wyst yt everye dell,11
Nor woll not do to you, iwysse.'
And withe that word she can him kysse,
And prayed him ryse, and sayd she wold
His welfare by her trothe, and tolde
Him howe she was for his diseace
Right sorye, and fayne wold him please.
His lyfe to save, thes wordes thoo
She sayd to him, and many moo,
In comfortinge; for from the peyne
She wold he were delyvered fayne.
The knight tho upcast his eyne,
And when he se it was the quene
That to him had those wordes sayde,
Ryght in his woo he can to brayd12
And him updressed for to knele,
The quene avisinge wonder well.
But as he rosse, he over-threwe;
Wherefore the quene, yet eft newe,
Him in her armes annon toke
And piteuslye con on him looke.
But, for all that, nothinge she sayde,
Ne spake not lyke she were well paied,
Ne no chere mad more sadd ne lyght,
But all in on, to every wyght,
Ther was sene connynnge withe estate
In her, witheout noyse or debate;
For, save only a look peteus
Of womanehed, undispiteous,
That she shewed in countenaunce,
Far semed her hart from obeysaunce.
And not for that, she did her paine
Him to recover from the paine,
And his harte to put at large.
For her entent was to his barge
Him to bringe agenst the eve,
Withe sertayne ladyes, and take leve,
And pray him of his gentulnes
To suffer her thenceforthe in peace
As other princisse had byfore;
And from thenseforthe, for evermore,
She wold him worshipe in all wise
That jentylnes myght devise,
And payne her holly to fulfill,
In honor, his pleasure and will.
And duringe thus the knyghtes woo -
Present the quene and other mo,
My lady and many another wight -
Ten thousand shippes, at a syght,
I sawe come over the wavy floude
Withe sayle and ore, thatt, as I stoode
Them to beholde, I cone marvell
From whense myght come so many a sayle;
For sythe the tyme that I was bore,
Suche a navy ther before
Had I not sene, ne so arrayed,
That for the syght myn hart played
Two and fro withein my brest
Fro joy; longe was or it wold rest.
For ther wer sayles full of flowers,
Aftercastelles withe huge towers,
Seminge full of armes bright,
That wonder lusty was the syght,
Withe large toppes and mastes longe,
Richelye depainte; and ever amonge,
At certen tymes, con repayer
Smale burdes downe from the eyor,
And on the shippes bordes abowte
Sate, and songe withe voice full owt
Ballades and leyes, right joyouslye,
As they couthe in ther armonye;
That you to wright that I ther see,
Myn excuse is it may not bee;
For whi the matter were to longe
To name the birdes and wright her songe.
Whereof, annon, the thithinges ther
Unto the quene sonne browght wer
Withe many 'alas' and many a doubte,
Shewinge the shippes ther without.
Tho can the aged lady weppe
And sayd, 'Allas, your joye on slepe
Sone shal be browght; ye, long or night!
For we distroyed bene by this knyght.
For certes it may none other be
But he is of yened companie,
And thay be come him here to seche.'
And withe that word her fayled speche.
'Witheout remedy we be distroyed,'
Full ofte sayd all, and con conclude,
Holy at once at the laste,
That best was shett ther yattes faste,
And arme them all in good langauge,
As they had done of old usage,
And of fayre wordes make ther shoot.
And this was ther counsell and the knot.
And other purpose toke they none,
But, armed thus, forthe they gone
Towarde the walles of the Ile.
But or they come ther longe while,
They mette the great lord of above
That cauled is the God of Love
That hem advised withe suche chere
Right as he withe them angrye were.
Avayled them not ther walles of glasse -
This mighty lord lett not to passe -
Ne shettinge of ther yattes fast.
All they had ordayned was but wast;
For when his shipe had founde londe,
This lord anone withe bowe in hande,
In to this Ile withe huge presse
Hyed fast, and wold not ceasse
Tyll he come where this knyght laye.
Of quene ne ladye by the waye
Toke he no hedd, but forthe past -
And yet all followed at the laste.
And when he come where laye the knight,
Well shewed he he had great might,
And forthe the quene cauled, anone,
And all the ladyes everychone,
And to them sayde: 'Is this not rothe
To se my servaunte for his trothe
Thus lene, thus syke, and in this paine,
And wote not unto home to plaine,
Save onlye one, witheout mo,
Wiche might him helle and is his foo?'
And withe that word, his hevye browe
He shewed the quene, and loked rowghe.
This mighty lord, forthe tho annone,
Withe o loke, her feautes echeon
He can her shew in littell speche,
Comaundinge her to be his leche.
Witheout more, shortlye to saye,
He thawght the quene sonne shuld obye.
And in his hannd he shoke his bowe,
And sayd right sone he wolde be know;
And for she had so longe refused
His servaunte, and his lawes not used,
He lett her witt that he was wrothe,
And bent his bowe, and forthe he goethe
A paace or two, and even here
A large drawght up to his eare
He drew, and withe an arrow ground
Sharpe and new, the quene a woounde
He gave that pearced unto the harte,
Wiche afterward full sore can smarte,
And was not holle of many a yere.
And even withe that: 'Be of good chere,
My knyght,' quod he. 'I will the hele,
And the restore to parfyte wele.
And for eche payne thou hast endured,
To have two joyes thou ar ewred.'
And forthe he past by the rowte
Withe sobre chere, walkynge aboute,
And what he sayd I thowght to here.
Well wist he wiche his servauntes were,
And as he passed, annone he found
My lady, and her toke by the hande,
And made her chere as a goddesse,
And of beutye he cauled her princesse;
Of bountye eke gave her the name,
And sayd ther was nothinge blame
In her but she was vertuus,
Savinge she wolde no pitye use,
Wiche was the cause he ther her sawght
To put that faute owt of her thawght.
And sythe she had the hole riches
Of womanehed and frendlynes,
He sayd it was nothinge syttinge
To voyd petye his owne lodginge;
And can her preache and withe her playe,
And of her beawtye tolde her aye,
And sayd she was a creature
Off whom the name shuld longe dewer
And in bookes full of plesaunse
Be put for ever in remembraunce.
And as me thowght, more frindlyely
Unto my ladye and goodlelye
He spake, then any that was ther;
And for the apples, I trow yt were,
That she had in possession.
Wherefor longe in processyon,
Many a paace, arme under other,
He walked, and so did with none other.
But what he wold comaunde or saye
Forthewithe neades all must obeye;
And what he desyred at the least
Of my ladye, was by requeste.
And when they longe together had bene,
He browght my ladye to the quene,
And to her sayd: 'So God you spede,
Shew grace, consentes, that is neade.'
My ladye, tho, full conninglye,
Right well avised and womanlye,
Downe cone to knele uppon the flores,
Whiche Aprell nurrished had with showers,
And to this mightye lord cane saye,
'That pleassethe you, I woll obeye
And me restraine from other thowght;
As ye woll, all thinges shal be wrought.'
And withe that word, knelinge, she qwoke.
That mightye lord in armes her toke
And sayd: 'Ye have a sarvaunte, one
That trewer livinge is ther none;
Wherefore, god were, seinge his trothe,
That on his paynes ye had rothe
And purposed you to here his speche,
Fullye avised him to leche.
For of one thinge ye may be suer:
He wil be youres while he may duer.'
And withe that word, right on his game,
Me thowght he lowghe and tolde my name,
Wiche was to me marvell and fere,
That what to do I nist there,
Ne whither me was better or none
Ther to abyde or thence to gone.
For well wend I my ladye wolde
Imagen or deme that I had tolde
My counsell hole, or made complainte
Unto that lorde, that mightye saynte;
So verelye eche thinge unsawght
He sayd as he had know my thought,
And tolde my trothe and myn unease
Bet then I couthe for myn ease,
Tho I had studied all a weake.
Well wist that lord that I was syke
And wold be leched wonder faine.
No mane me blame; myne was the paine.
And when this lord had all sayd
And longe withe my ladye playd,
She can to smyle withe sprite glade.
This was the answere that she mad,
Wiche put me there in dowble paine,
That what to do, ne what to sayne,
Wist I not ne what was the best.
Fare was myn harte tho from his rest:
For as I thowght that smylinge sygne
Was token that the hart inclyne
Wold to request reasonable,
By cause smylinge is favorable
To every thinge that shall thrive,
So thowght I tho, anon belyve,
That wordeles answere in no towne
Was tane for obligacyon,
Ne cauled sewertye, in no wyse,
Amonges them that cauled bene wise.
Thus was I in a joyous doubte,
Suer an unsurest of that rowte.
Right as myn hart thowght it were,
So more or lesse woxe my fere,
That yf one thowght made it well,
Annother shente yt everye deale,
Till at the last I couthe no more,
But porposed, as I dyd before,
To serve trewelye my lyves space,
Awaytinge ever the yere of grace
Wiche may fall yet or I sterve,
Yf it please her that I serve,
And served have, and wil do ever.
For thinge is none that me is lever
Then her service, whose presence
Myn heven is hole, and her absence
An hell full of diverse paines
Wiche to the deathe full oft me straynes.
Thus in my thowghtes, as I stode -
That unethe felt I harme ne good -
I sawe the quene at littell paace
Come where this mightye lord was,
And kneled downe in presence there
Of all the ladyes that ther were,
Withe sobre countenance avised,
In fewe wordes that well sufficed,
And to this lord, annon, pressent
A byll, wherin hol her intente
Was writton, and how she besowght,
As he knew every will and thought,
That of his godhede and his grace
He wold forgeve all old trespace,
And undispleased be of tyme past,
For she wold ever be stedfaste,
And, in his service, to the deathe
Use every thought wall she had breathe,
And syght, and wepte, and sayde no more.
Withein was wrytton all the sore.
At wiche bill the lord cane smyle,
And sayd he wold withein that Ile
Be lord and syr, bothe est and west;
And cauled it ther his new conquest,
And in great counsell toke the quene.
Longe were the tales them betwene.
And over her bill he rede thrise,
And wonder gladlye con devise
Her features fayer and hir visage,
And bad good thrifte on that image,
And sayd he trowed her complaynet
Shuld after cause her be corseint13
And in his sleve he put the bill -
Was ther none that knewe his will -
And forthe walked apace abowte,
Beholdinge all the lustye rowte,
Halfe in a thowght, withe smylinge chere,
Till, at the last, as ye shall here,
He torned unto the quene agayne
And sayd: 'To morne, here in this playne
I woll ye be, and all yours
That purposed bene to were flowers
Or of my lustye collours use.
It may not be to you excuse,
Ne none of youres, in no wyse,
That able be to my service.
For, as I sayd have here before,
I woll be lord for evermore
Of you, and of this Ile and all,
And of all youres that have shall
Joye, peace, or easse, or in pleasaunce
Your lives use witheoute mischaunce;
Here will I in estate be sene' -
And turned his visage to the quene -
'And you geve knowledge of my will,
And a full answere of youre bill.'
Was ther non 'ney,' ne wordes none,
But very obeysaunt semed eche one,
Quene and other that were there.
Well semed yt they had great feare.
And toke lodginge every wyght;
Was none departed of that night.
And some to reade old romansys
Hem occupied for ther pleasaunces,
Some to make virleyes and leyes,
And some to other diverse pleyes.
And I to me a romaunse toke,
And as I readinge was the booke,
Me thowght the spere had so rone
That it was risinge of the sonne,
And suche a presse into the playne
Assemble con, that withe great paine
One might for other go ne stande,
Ne none take other by the hand
Witheouten they distorbed were,
So huge and great the presse was ther.
And after that, within two oweres,
This mightye lord, all in flowers
Of diverse coloures many a payer,
In his estate up in the eyer,
Well to fadome as his hight,14
He sett him ther in all ther syght;
And for the quene, and for the knyght,
And for my ladye, and every wyght
In hast he sende, so that never one
Was ther absent, but come echeon.
And when thay thus assembled were,
As ye have hard me saye you here,
Witheout more tarringe, on hight,
Ther to be sene of everye wyght,
Up stood, amonge the presse above,
A counseler, servaunt of Love,
Wiche semed well of great estate;
And shewed ther how no debate
Ofte ne goodlye might be used
In gentullnes and be excussed.
Wherefore he sayd his lordes will
Was, every wyght there shuld be still
And in peace and one accorde,
And thus comaunded at a word.
And cane his tonge to suche laungauge
Turne, that yet in all his age
Hard I never so coninglye
Man speke, ne halfe so faythefullye;
For every thinge he sayd there
Semed as it insealed were
Or appreved for very trew.
Shuche was his conninge langauge new,
And well accordinge to his chere,
That, where I be, me thinke I here
Him yet alwaye, when I my one
In any place may be allone.
First con he of the lustye Ile
All the astate in little while
Reherse, and hollye every thinge
That caused ther his lordes cominge;
And everye wele, and every wo,
And for what cause eche thinge was so,
Well shewed he there, in easye speche;
And how the syke had nede of leche,
And who that whole was and in grace,
He told playnelye how eche thinge was.
And, at the last, he con conclude,
Voydinge every language rude,
And sayd that prince, that mightye lord,
Or his depertinge wold accorde
All the perties ther presente,
And was the fyne of his entente:
'Wittnesse his presence in your syght
Whiche syttes amonge you in his might.'
And kneled downe, witheowten more,
And no o word spoke he more.
Tho can this mightye lord him dresse,
Withe chere avised to do largesse,15
And sayd unto this knyght and me:
'Ye shall to joye restored be.
And for ye have bene trewe, ye twayne,
I graunte you here for every payne
A thousand joyes everye weckee,
And look ye be no lenger syke;
And bothe your ladyes - lo them here! -
Take eche his owne. Beth of good chere!
Your happye daye is now begonne
Sythe yt was rissinge of the sunne.
And to all other in this place,
I graunt hollye to staund in grace
That servethe trewelye witheout slowthe
And to avanced be, by trothe.'
Tho can this knyght and I downe knele,
Weninge to do wonder well,
Sayinge, 'O Lord, your great mercye
Us hathe enriched so openly,
That we deserve may nevermore
The least parte, but evermore
Withe sowle and bodye trulye serve
You and yours till we sterve.'
And to oure ladyes, ther they stood,
This knyght that cothe so mikle good
Whent in hast, and I allso -
Joyeux and glad were we tho,
And as riche in everye thowght
As he that all hathe and owe nowght -
And them besoute, in humble wise,
Us t'accepte to ther service
And shewe us of ther frendlye cheres,
Wiche in ther treasure many yeres
They kepte had, us to great paine;
And told that servauntes twayne
Were, and wolde be, and so had ever,
And for the deathe chaunge wold we never,
Ne do offence, ne thinge leke yll,
But full ther ordinaunce and will;
And made oure othes freshe new,
Oure olde servaunce to renewe,
And hollye thers for evermore
We ther become, what might we more,
And well awaytinge that in slowghth
We made no faute, ne in no trothe,16
Ne thowght not do, I you ensure,
Withe oure will while we may duer.
This season past, againse an eve
This lord of the quene toke leve,
And sayd he wold hastelye retorne
And at good leasure there sojorne,
Bothe for his honor and her ease,
Comaundinge fast the knyght to please.
And gave his statutes in papers,
And ordayned diverse officers,
And forthe to shipe the same nyght
He wente, and sone was owt of syght.
And on the morrow, when the ayere
Attempered was and wether fayer,
Erlye at rysinge of the sonne,
After the nyght awaye was ronne,
Playinge us on the rivage,
My lady spake of her viage,
And sayd she made smale jorneys
And held her in straunge conteryes;
And forthewithe to the quene went,
And shewed her holly her entent,
And toke her leve withe chere wepinge,
That petye it was to se that partinge.
For to the quene it was a paine
As to a martyre new slayne;
That for her woo, and she so tender,
Yet wepe I ofte, when I remembre.
She offered ther to resyne
To my ladye, eyght tymes or nyne,
Th'astate, the Ile, shortlye to tell,
If it might please her ther to dwell;
And sayd forever her linage
Shuld to my lady do omage
And herrs be holl, witheowten more,
They and all thers for evermore.
'Naye, God forbyd,' my ladye ofte
Withe many connynge wordes and softe
Sayd, 'that ever suche thinge shuld bene
That I consent shulde that a quene
Of youre estate, and so well named,
In any wise shuld be entamed!
But wold be fayne withe all my hart,
What so befell or how me smarte,
To do thinge that you might please
In any wise, or be your ease.'
And kysed ther, and bad goodnyght.
For wiche leve wepte many a wyght.
Ther might men here my ladye preysed,
And suche a name of her arrayssed -
What of connynge and fryndlyenes,
What of beautye withe jentulnes,
What of glad and frendlye cheres
That she used in all her yeres -
That wonder was here every wight
To saye well how they did ther might.
And withe a prese, uppon the morrowe
To shipe her browght; and wich a sorrowe
They made when she shuld under sayle,
That, and ye wyst, ye wold mervayle!
Forthe goethe the shipe; owt goethe the sonde;
And I, as wood man unbownde,
For dowbte to be behinde there,
Into the see, witheowten feare,
Annone I ranne, till withe a wave
All sodenly I was overthrowghe;
And withe the water, to and fro,
Bacwarde and forward, traveled so,
That mynd and brethe nyghe was gone,
That for good ne harme knew I none.
Till, at the last, withe hockes twayne
Men of the shipe withe mickle paine
To save my lyve dyd suche travell
That, and ye wyst, ye wold mervell;
And in the shipe me drew on highe,
And sayden all that I wold dye,
And layd me longe downe by the maste,
And of ther clothes uppon me caste.
And ther I made my testament,
And wyst my selfe not what I mente;
But when I sayd had what I wolde,
And to the mast my wo all toulde,
And tane my leve at everye wight,
And closyd myn eyne, and lost my syght,
Avised to dye witheout more speche
Or any remedye to seche,
Of grace newe, as was grete ned,
My ladye of my paine toke hede,
And her bethought how that for trothe
To se me dye it were great routhe;
And to me came in sobre wyse
And softelye sayd, 'I praye you, ryse.
Come on withe me; let be this fare.
All shall be well. Have ye no care.
I woll obey, ye, and fulfyll
Holly in all that lordes will
That you and me, not longe ago,
After his liste comaunded so,
That ther agayne no resistaunce
May be, witheout great offence.
And therefore, here now what I saye.
I am, and wol be, frindlye aye.
Ryse up! Beholde this avauntage
I graunt you in erytage,
Peaseble witheowt stryve
Duringe the dayes of your lyfe.'
And of her apples in my sleve
One she put, and toke her leve
In wordes few, and sayd, 'Good hele,
He that all made you send, and wele!'
Werewithe my paines, all at once,
Toke suche leve, that all my bones
For the newe ourewse pleasaunce,
So as they cothe, desyred to daunce.
And I, as hole as any wyght,
Up rose withe joyoux harte and light,
Hole and unsyke, right well at ease,
And all forgett had my diseace;
And to my ladye, where she playd,
I went annone and to her sayd:
'He that all joyes, persones to plese,
First ordayned withe perfyt ease,
And everye pleasure cane departe,
Send you, madame, as large parte;
And of his goodes suche plentye
As he has done you of bewtye,
Withe hele and all that maye be thowght,
He send you all, as he all wrought.
Madame,' quod I, 'Your servaunte trewe
Have I byne longe, and yet woll new,
Witheowten chaunge or repentaunce
In any wise, or variaunce,
And so wool do, as thrive I ever;
For thinge is none that me is lever
Then you to please, however I fare,
Myn hartes ladye and my welfare,
My lyfe, myn hele, my leche also
Of every thinge that doth me wo,
Myn helpe at ned, and my suertye
Of everye joye that longes to me,
My succors hole in all wyse
That may be thowght or man devise.
Your grace, madame, suche have I found
Now, in my nead, that I am bound
To you for ever, so Christ me save,
For hele and lyve of you I have;
Wherefore is reason I you serve
Withe dew obeysaunce till I starve,
And so wil do by my trothe,'
Quod I, 'Madame, witheout slouthe,
And dead and quicke be ever youres,
Late, erlye, and at all owers.'
Tho can my ladye smyle a lyte,
And in playne englyshe on consyte,17
In wordes fewe, holl her entent
She shewed me ther, and how she ment
To meward, in every wyse,
Holly she can all ther devise
Witheout prosses or longe travell, 18
Charginge me to kepe counsell
As I wold to her grace attayne;
Of wiche comaundemente I was fayne.
Wherefore I passe over at this tyme,
For counsell cordes not well in ryme,19
And eak the othe, that I have swore,
To breke me were bet unbore;20
Whi for untrewe for evermore
I shuld be hold, that nevermore
Of me in place shuld be reporte
Thinge that avayle might or comfort
To mewardes in any wysse,
And eche wyght wold me dispice
In that they couthe, and me repreve,
Whiche were a thinge sore for to greve;
Wherefore, hereof more mencyon
Make I not now, ne longe sermone,
But shortlye thus I me excuse:
To ryme a counssell I refuce.
Saylinge thus, two dayes or thre,
My ladye, towardes her cunterye,
Over the waves highe and grene
Wiche were large and depe betwene,
Uppon a tyme me cauled, and sayd
That of my hele she was well paide;
And of the quene, and of the Ile,
She taled withe me longe while,
And of all that she there had sene,
And of th'astate, and of the quene,
And of the ladyes, name by name,
Two owres or mo, this was her game.
Till at the last the wynde can ryse,
And blew so fast, and in suche wyse,
The shipe, that every wyght con saye:
'Madame, or eve be of this daye,
And God tofore, ye shal be there
As ye wold faynest that ye were;
And doubte not that withein six owres
Ye shal be ther as all is youres.'
At whiche wordes she cane to smyle,
And sayd that was no longe while
That they hur sett, and up she rosse,
And all abowt the shipe she goes,
And mad good chere to everye wyght,
Till of the londe she had syght;
Of wiche syght glad, God yt wote,
She was, and abasshed annon a boote
And forthe goethe, shortlye you to tell,
Where she accostomed was to dwell,
And recyved was, as good right,
Withe joyeux chere and hartes light,
And as a glad newe aventure,
Pleasaunte to every creature.
Withe whiche landinge tho I woke,
And found my chaumbre full of smoke,
My chekes eke, unto the eares,
And all my body weate of teares;
And all so feble and in suche wise
I was, that unethe might I rise,
So fare traveled and so feynte,
That neither knew I kyrk ne saynt,
Ne what was what, ne who was who,
N'avysed what wey I wolde goo.
But, by aventures grace,
I ryse and welke sawght paace and pace,
Till I a windinge stayer founde,
And held the vice ay in my hand,
And upwardes sauftelye so can crepe
Till I cam where I thowght to slepe
More at myn ease and owt of presse,
At my good leysure and in peace,
Till somewhat I recoumfort were
Of the travell and great feare
That I indured had before:
This was my thought, witheowt more.
And as a wyght wittles and faynte,
Witheout more, in a chaumbre painte
Full of storyes old and diverse -
More then I cane now reherse -
Unto a bed full soberlye,
So as I might full sauftelye,
Pace after other, and nothinge sayd.
Till, at the last, downe I me layde;
And, as my mynd wolde geve me leve,
All that I dremed had that eve
Before, all I con reherse,
Right as a childe at skole his vearse
Dothe, after that he thinkethe to thrive,
Right so did I; for all my lyve
I thawght to have in remembraunce -
Bothe the paine and the pleasaunce -
The dreame, hole as yt me befell,
Wiche was as ye here me tell.
Thus in my thowghtes as I laye,
That happy or unhappy daye -
Woote I not, so have I blame,
Of the two wiche is the name -
Befell me so that ther a thought
By processe new on slepe me browght,
And me governed so, in a while,
That agayne withein the Ile
Me thawght I was; where of the knyght,
And of the ladyes I had a syght,
And were assembled on a grene,
Knyght and lady withe the quene;
At wiche assemble ther was sayd
How they all content and payd
Were holly, as in that o thinge,
That the knyght ther shuld be kynge,
And thay wold all for suer wytnes
Wedded be, bothe more and lesse,21
In remembraunce, witheout more;
Thus they concente for evermore.
And was concluded that the knyght
Departe shulde the same nyght,
And forthewithe ther take his viage,
To jorneye for his mariage
And retorne withe suche an ooste
That weddid might be lest and most;
This was concluded, writton, and sealed,
That yt might not be repeled
In no wyse, but aye be fyrme,
And all shuld be withein a terme
Witheouwt more excusacyon,
Bothe feast and coronacyon.
This knyght, wiche had thereof the charge,
Annone into a littull barge
Browght was, late ageynst an eve,
Where of all he toke his leave;
Wiche barge was a manes thowght,
After his pleasure it him browght;
The quene herselfe accostomed aye
In the same barge to pleye.
Yt nedethe nether mast ne rother -
I have not hard of suche another -
Ne master for the governaunce;
Hit sayled by thowght and by pleasaunce,
Witheowt labor, est or west
All was one, calme and tempest.
And I wente withe, at his requeste,
And was the first prayed to the fest.
When he come in his cuntrye,
And passed had the wavy sea,
In an haven, depe and large,
He left his riche and noble barge,
And to the court, shortlye to tell,
He wente, where he was wont to dwell;
And was receyved as good right
As heyre and for a worthi knyght,
Withe all the stattes of the lande
Wiche come annon at his first sende,
Withe glad spirites, full of trothe,
Lothe to do faute, or withe a slouthe
Attaynte be in any wyse -
Ther riches was ther olde service,
Wiche ever trew had be founde
Sythe first inhabyte was the lond.
And so receyved ther there kynge,
That forgotten was nothinge
That owe to be done, ne might please,
Ne ther soverayne lord do ease,
And withe them so, shortlye to saye,
As they of custome had done aye.
For seven yere past was, and more,
The father, the olde, wyse and hoore
Kinge of the lande, toke his leve
Of all his barones one an eve,
And tolde them how his dayes past
Were all, and comen was the laste;
And hartelye prayd hem to remembre,
His sonne, wiche yonge was and tender,
That borne was ther prince to be,
Yf he retorne to that cuntrye
Might, be aventure or grace,
Withein any tyme or space;
And to be trewe and frindlye aye,
As they to him had bene allweye,
Thus he them prayd, witheowt more,
And toke his leve for evermore.
Knowne was how, in tender age
This younge prince a great viage,
Oncouthe and straunge, onors to sekche,
Toke on hand, withe littull speche;
Wiche was to seke a princes
That he desyred more then riches
For her great name that flowred so,
That in that tyme ther was no moo
Of her estate, ne so well named,
For borne was none that ever hir blamed;
Of wiche princes, sumewhat before
Here have I spoke, and sonne will more.
So thus befell as ye shall here.
Unto the lord they made suche chere,
That joye was, there to be presente
To se ther trothe and how they ment;
So very glade they were echeone,
That them amonge ther was not one
That desyred more riches
Than for ther lord suche a princes,
That they might please and that were fayer;
For faste desyred they an heyer,
And sayd great suertye were, iwis.22
And as they were speakinge of this,
The prince himeselfe him avised,
And in playne englyshe und |